A concert's lighting is normally programmed by an expert (a "lighting designer," or LD) working a console with thousands of buttons. The artist has the vision — but has to describe it secondhand and hope it lands. We're closing that gap.
The simple version
We're building something an artist can talk to. You describe what you see in your head — "make the drop feel like the room is breathing, then everything goes blood-red and tight" — and it turns that into a real, professional lighting show. It asks questions when it's unsure, just like a great collaborator would. You watch it appear and refine it by talking.
Tools are built by experts, for experts. The artist can't drive them, so the vision passes through a translator and loses something on the way.
The artist directs in their own words. The lighting designer's taste becomes the vocabulary the system speaks. Nobody's left out — the artist gains control, the designer gains a superpower.
The artist directs. The expert's taste is the language. The show becomes whatever the artist can describe.
One performance. Many cities. At the same time.
Because the show is stored as intention rather than as a fixed signal, the exact same show can run in another country simultaneously — controlled live from the real stage, locked perfectly in time.
The secret is a tiny, deliberate head start: the faraway production runs a few seconds behind on purpose, so every cue arrives early and fires right on the beat — lights, video, and effects all hitting together, in both rooms, as if distance didn't exist. (There's a separate one-pager just on this part.)
A mobile version for the artist on stage or on the move, and a desktop / web version for bigger sessions. Talk to it or type to it — your choice.
voicechatmobiledesktop / webworks on a closed venue networkworks over the internet
The ideas don't stop when the show ends.
Picture the artist leaving the venue, buzzing with notes. They pull out their phone, open the show, scrub to the exact moment they want to change, and say "this drop should be colder, and hold the blackout a beat longer." They watch a preview right there on the screen, tweak it, and save. Tomorrow night, the show already knows.
The show lives in the cloud — it belongs to the artist, not to one console in one building. Every change is saved as a version, so nothing is ever lost and the lighting designer can always see what changed.
The system does two very different jobs, kept deliberately separate:
Where all the creativity happens — describing, previewing, tweaking, saving. Works offline (great for that SUV with no signal). It edits the saved show only. It can never touch a live rig — so you can experiment freely, with zero risk to a running show.
A simple, rock-solid pipe that carries the finished show from the main stage to the mirror productions, in perfect time. No buttons to fiddle with mid-show, no way to accidentally change the programming live — it just plays what was authored, flawlessly.
You create in Author mode. You broadcast in Perform mode. The two never get confused — which is exactly why nothing can go wrong on stage.
Because everything runs off one shared timeline, the same approach extends to the rest of the show — built to grow, one layer at a time:
💡 lighting (first)📹 video🔥 pyro💨 special effects🔊 audio accents
In one line: the artist imagines it out loud, and the show becomes real — here, and anywhere in the world, at the same time.