Tilt up! ft. Yael Crishna
- Vivek Madan
- Sep 25
- 14 min read
Updated: Sep 26
"I really enjoy the design process. Finding worlds that are created through light to bring the director's vision to life." Yael Crishna, lighting designer and operator shifts focus from her journey, to her design process and to her reliance on teamwork in the theatre.
Let us begin with a slightly unconventional question. What does your name mean?
So, in Old Hebrew, it means light. Which is a bit weird, but that's old Hebrew. In new Hebrew it means mountain goat.
Which I could also be, I'd just be a very large mountain goat.
But I don't think that my parents had this in mind when they named me. I think they picked the weirdest name of the lot. They had a girl list and a boy list because in India you can't find out the gender of the child. So, they picked the name that was the most unique. And fun fact, I know one of the boy names they had on their list because it went to my mother's friend’s son. Zaev. And before you ask, I have no idea what that means.
I can't get over the fact that your name means light. But funnily enough, you didn't start with lighting, did you, in the theatre?
No, I started with production in 1995. I did The Merchant of Venice directed by Toni Patel, which was lots of fun. Toni had come to Rishi Valley - where I went to school - and done a workshop on Shakespeare. So, she was the first person I met when I came back to Bombay.
And then it was on the original show of Jaya, where Zuleikha Allana was the lighting designer, or maybe she was the one running it, I don’t remember. And that was the first time I clocked that there are other departments in the theatre that have women in them.
That’s when I began researching schools where I could learn from because I clearly wasn't getting to learn what I wanted, doing what I was doing. And I applied and I got in and went off to drama school for three years.
Oh I didn’t know you went to drama school. Where?
In Sydney, at the National Institute of Dramatic Arts. In 1999, I went to visit my aunt in Sydney during my summer holidays. And I got an opportunity to do a secondment, an internship when I got to see some of what they were doing. And I was amazed that there was a whole different course for things that happen behind the scenes.
And what was the course exactly?
It was a 3-year bachelor course, a degree in technical production. We studied event management, stage management, arts administration, law, accounts, lighting design, sound design, pyrotechnics. And they had a brief course on video.
Over 3 years you work at different levels. First, you're an ASM. Then you're a DSM, a Deputy Stage Manager, who is also the show caller. And then you're a Stage Manager or Production Manager.

And when you came back to India in 2003…?
2002. For my first and last Thespo. Because I aged out. It was a play called Starting Tuesday. It had Itisha Peerbhoy in it, Aviva Dharmaraj, and several others. And that was the first play where I did lights.
My first ever professional play on lights was Danger Memory in 2003, which had my uncle [Vijay Crishna] and Sabira Merchant. Sam Kerawala designed the lights and I ran it; my first interaction with Sam.
Okay. Let's zoom out of lighting for a bit and look at just the theatre in general. Why do you still do it?
I love it. I've loved it, I think, since I was 3. The environment, the community, it's all the things which aren't related to things that happen within the four walls of a theatre. It's what you build getting out of it. You kind of have a second family, so to speak, in most cases. It's a place to ideate. With people from various backgrounds, people from different walks of life.
I have a personal question here. This sense of family and this emotional attachment with people, does it ever get in the way?

No, I check my friendships at the door. I'm very good at demarcating boundaries so I and whoever I’m working with can have a professional conversation once we’re inside the space I mean, I still ask you how you're doing but beyond that, I think that we should be able to conduct ourselves at least semi-professionally once we're in the space.
It took time to build. There are a few friends - not that many - but people who I socialize with as well. But once we're inside the theatre, I like to think I am able to conduct myself professionally.
That’s great. And difficult to do. Was there ever a time when you cared more about the people and therefore didn't voice an opinion? Or cared less about the people and didn't voice an opinion?
Hmmm… Good question. I think I learned how to voice my opinion differently. I think that is a skill. I’m reasonably good at it, but I’m always trying to figure how to voice my opinion in a way that is productive as opposed to saying things for the sake of saying things.
Last week, someone said something about me being no-nonsense but that I also really care. And I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing.
But I do know that we generally go with the no-nonsense because the time in the theatre is so short. There should not be nonsense. There should be a facility or a pathway to get to the point and be effective, as opposed to fluffing things up. I'm not a very good fluffer, I'm just not very skilled at placating people's egos or making them feel more secure or great about their day.
And to come back to your question, I think everyone's take on criticism is different. Some people take criticism very personally, and I really wish they didn't, that they see it as something constructive. No one's saying they have to include this feedback, but there should be an understanding which enables the project to grow without seeing opinions as a personal attack. And that’s also on the giver of the opinion, not just the receiver. So, to circle back, I try - and I have to say I don't always succeed - to voice my opinion so it is constructive, and in ways that suit the other person.
In the 25-odd years since you’ve been in the technical department, have you seen a shift in the way designers and technicians are involved in the process of making a play?
Let me give you an example of Akvarious. Akvarious is very inclusive, everyone's input is valid. Right off the bat, you feel like you're a part of the process. And it’s lovely because I think as a theatre company, our job is to take the audience on a journey. We all play roles in the experience that an audience walks out of the theatre with – everything from sound design to costume design to production management.
So, we need to be present every step of the way. We're there because we are worth something or we've proven ourselves in the past and that's why we've been hired.
If you have a valid enough point, and you state it and it's accepted, that's great. But if there are multiple, opposing arguments, you don’t switch off. You go about finding an alternate solution, together.
So, it's important - and really rewarding - to have a voice. And the voice isn't necessarily vocal. It could be through your work.
That's really well put. And on a similar, but separate track, how have you grappled with the changes in stage lighting technology over the last 20 years?

I always feel that pushing a button isn't the same as pushing a fader.
In 2023, I was fortunate to be part of a tour that went to Germany and Switzerland of a Tibetan play called Pah-lak, written by Abhishek Majumdar and then translated into Tibetan.
Now, in Europe, the equipment is obviously different. So, I had requested all the tech riders in advance. And then I spent some quality time Googling equipment and what it does and how does it help you tell your story and how is it different from the fixtures we use In India…
And on that tour, I created a Go Button show for the first time. I still have the documents. It really saved me time and understanding but working on fade timings was hard, because those are quite specific and on a Go Button show, once it goes it goes. You can't stop it. You can only go forward. So, it took a while to adjust to.
The director of the play, Harald Fuhrmann, would say “You need to leave some of your old thoughts behind and see the way we are doing stuff in Europe, bring some of those into play”. And I think I got it, a couple of shows in, I got the mood I wanted.
But I always feel a little sense of a disconnect with a go button show.
And what do you do about that disconnect? Or how do you mitigate it?
Well one is psychological. Embrace the change. I'm personally not very good at it. It takes time. And I'm not a big fan of surprises, but one really has no choice but to grow with the times.
And the second is you can't always rely on other people. You need to do your own homework, hence the Googling to find out what's going on.
But be warned, in many places in India, even though you’ve armed yourself well, you’ve done the homework, you’ve researched the equipment, you enter to discover that you have the Chinese versions! And it's hit and miss in response timings. I mean, most of the files take, but not always. So sometimes you're wondering why the wings are lit or why some random colour is appearing when it shouldn’t. That’s when you tell yourself that this is all part of the journey, that it’s character building.
And you start making calls to friends, which is sort of the opposite of what I just said about not relying on other people. But when push comes to shove, call friends who know their stuff.
I have a friend called Akshay who specializes in fancy gizmos and lights. And he’s received many late-night phone calls from me. Niranjan Gokhale's another receiver of such phone calls. He has been very kind to help me through some very hard times when I was sitting in Hong Kong and he was in Bangalore.
What do you enjoy most about the process? Do you enjoy programming at home? Do you enjoy focusing? Rigging? Operating?
I really enjoy the design process. Finding worlds that are created through light to bring the director's vision to life. And coming up with the core idea… That’s the most exciting – when you think you've cracked it! That bliss level is when you feel it’s all worth it.

I remember on Betrayal which Rachel D’Souza directed for Aadyam. It happened to me on a walk from Andora's to the ATM. We were rehearsing at SAPP at Andrew’s and I was really hungry so I walked to Andorra's and they said cash only.
So I walked to the ATM and I was thinking about how I can get this to work. How do I get the language of the play with the timelines in question, with the seasons of the year… How do I get that to work; to get the language to be a part of the show? And by the time I’d reached Andora’s with the cash, I had cracked it. There was this level of calm.
I hadn't drawn a single thing, no light plan, no rider. But in my mind, as an idea, as a concept, it worked.
And for me, that’s also the hardest part. Because I’m watching rehearsal and I’m wondering when? When will it happen? When will that little light bulb go off and when will it start to make sense?
Even the newest play, 305 Galli Mantola, in a language that's semi-alien to me, the first time I heard the script, I had no clue what they were saying. And I think I found a language for the play. In the three venues we've been to since we've opened the play, I think the language has been achieved for the most part through the experience.
What does it mean to crack it? As in, what do you do when you design? How do you design?

Let me give you an example. Dekh Behen 2. There's a line in there where one character calls another character in their final outfit a cupcake. Because that's just the costume. They look like cupcakes, with some very special colours.
It's set in a hotel room Jaipur. It's actually two hotel rooms over the course of the play but hotel rooms generally all have the same look, the same visual language.
So from there it was easy. Use the stained-glass window upstage. Use the corridor and the hotel room aesthetic and soften it for stage.
And as the play progressed, I realised this doesn’t look half-bad! I was pretty chuffed with myself.
So, knowing the colours of the costume (which stemmed from the script), the setting and location of the play, helped me build my world. Finding what is unique about Jaipur, bringing Jaipur to the audience, the audience to Jaipur.
And on the practical front, I read the script twice, before I even go to rehearsal. Obviously, I talk to the director, the others designers, keep all of those conversations churning at the back of my head… I usually find something, like the cupcakes, which interest me, which could lend itself to the room.,
Secondly, understand how to do it simply. We can do it with eight lights, but we can also do it with 40 lights. And it helps me to approach with a stripped-down design. To be mentally there, in a venue with constraints, lesser equipment. Then it’s easy to embellish, to scale up, to add more sophistication.
To take another example, 305 Galli Mantola… We started at Prithvi, moved to Rangshila, and then moved to SLR in Pune so the quantity of lights available decreased each time. What gets cut? What is the core that needs to be highlighted? Is it effective? Am I doing the vision of the play justice even with fewer lights? Am I doing justice to the experience the audience has? All questions I keep in mind.
The very last thing I do is draw a light plan. The very last thing. Everything is marked in the script – cues, emotions, motivations, blocking, etc. before like I touch pen to paper for a light plan.
Going back to something we said earlier about this being about families and community. You have worked with almost every production house in Bombay. How do you navigate those relationships? Because there must be directors and teams of every stripe...
You know, I remember a lot. Words affect me. Words can speak very loudly. It's stuff that sits with me. But I try to not let that affect my work. I try and remember to be kind.
For example, we spend so many hours in a venue together, I find it really strange when people leave and they don't say bye.
And that includes the venue technicians. I think sometimes we get lost in the sir and the ma'ams. I love including venue technicians in what I'm doing; I like to take their input on light placement, on intensity or colours. Because we tend to forget the value that they bring, the things they can contribute.

And more than that, it’s to include them as people. When you know that someone's not well, I will ask them how they're doing or if you know a member of their family is not well I ask them how they’re doing. It's not asking for the sake of asking or because it will make them easier to work with. I genuinely do care.
I try and shake as many hands as I can and say thank you, which is something I learned many years ago, that how you leave a space makes a difference to everyone, to how they receive you when you return maybe months later. It's just saying thank you. “We have created something today. Good show, bad show, it doesn't matter. Thank you for today.”
And what’s it like being a woman in tech? Does that change the way you navigate rehearsal rooms and set ups?
As a woman working in tech, you need a different level of thick skin. You need to make sure that no one sees you any different to the next person. You need to be super-competent at your job.
It was lovely to have gone into Nehru Centre many years ago and see that they had a female sound technician, which is almost unheard of. Though NCPA also had a female sound technician…
There were a whole group of women who met on Aladdin who are still friends, who still work together. Shruti, the director, Anubha and Pallavi from The Costume Team, Shampa the choreographer, you've got Saatvika, Spriha, Zinnia, Priyanshi, Nikita, all from the stage and production management team… All people who didn’t just work together, but also spent - and continue to spend - time together.

It's a different environment. We grow with each other. We lean on each other. And I'd never had that - to work with so many women in one room. It was really great. I guess what changes is that it becomes a room where women support women. And those are the kind of rooms that should exist, in multitudes.
Okay, now here’s a fun question. A hypothetical. You are in a world where you get to choose only one kind of light, one colour, one tech person to be with you, and one venue. What does that combination look like?
Hmm. Going old school, the one light would be a fresnel. It is the most versatile in my humble opinion. With working barn doors!
The one gel, interesting. Really interesting. My new favourite gel is actually a Lee 500. It’s a Double New colour. It's like a double CTB, but gray-er. Gray doesn't exist as a gel. But a 500, when it's brighter, it gives you one shade. And when it's at a lower intensity, it's a completely different colour. So, I find it fairly versatile, unlike the straws or ambers or anything like that.

I think in terms of venue technicians, I miss Suresh and Madhuji from the NCPA. They have been there from the start of my career. Now they're retired. But it was so much fun working to be in the venue when they were around, or even Apteji or Tanaji or Krishna.
And I love the newer generation as well because I've been there from the start of their careers.
Anyway. Moving on. My favourite venue in Bombay is definitely Prithvi. It's so intimate and it's so beautiful as a venue, the staff are amazing. You feel the history when you walk in… When you walk past that sign which says ‘No Parking'…
Although, emotionally, my first ever show was at the Experimental Theatre, and I love it. I have literally bled at the NCPA. I think my blood is still on the catwalk somewhere unless they've changed the floorboards.
Don’t ask me to pick between the two, I can't.
And last question. What is your wish for Akvarious for the next 25 years?

I think I felt a full circle moment when we did It's a Wonderful Life because it was the first time I worked with Akarsh. Meera Aunty was my first Khurana. Internal Affairs was with Adhaar. Then I got to work on the online version of the Hound of the Baskervilles with Akash uncle and then got to work with him again this year on The Tragedy of Ham MacLear
For a while before It’s a Wonderful Life, I thought, “Damn it, I'm never going to get to work with Akarsh because he always lights his own plays”.
Because one of my favourite Akvarious plays is What Planet Are You On? Literally, it was so beautiful. I was with it from the time the house lights went down, just the world he created, how the performers were lifting those words off the page. My God!
I remember I had to work after that show because I was lighting the evening show of One Night Only, and it was such a great afternoon, coming off that experience. Beautiful storytelling and… I can't describe it.
Anyone who asks, what's my favourite children’s play, it's What Planet Are You On? Hands down.
So, I didn’t really answer your question, but this is how I feel. I hope they go on and on, continue diversifying and bringing more people into the theatre, both as performers and audiences. It’s always lovely to be in a fun group of human beings who love being there. And I love being there.
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