MOONLIGHT AND SNOW: A WALK AT THE MOUNT
Decidedly nontraditional light show proves sellout attraction
Apathway lit by torches. Tall trees glowing in a pitch-black forest. A mysterious village enclosed within stone walls. Giant icicles shimmering in a winter garden. And a mansion washed in blue light rising above it all.
“Nightwood,” on view at the Mount in Lenox, Mass., through Jan. 3, is an amalgam of every mystical, magical fantasy tale you’ve ever wanted to live inside. Conceived by lighting designer Chris Bocchiaro, in partnership with scenic designer Megan Kinneen and composer Greg Hanson, the show uses light, sound and color to transform the grounds and courtyards of the historic site—the former home of legendary author Edith Wharton—into a strange and beautiful world. (At publication time, "Nightwood" was sold out through its Jan. 3 run.)
“We were very clear that we were not interested in a traditional holiday light show but rather something simultaneously more primitive and more sophisticated,” said the Mount’s executive director, Susan Wissler. “Each installation is unique, and some feel very minimalist and others very organic and earthy. It’s a very emotionally driven show, but there’s no literal storytelling component—every visitor is invited to bring their own interpretation to the various installations they encounter along the walk.”
Developed in just seven weeks, “NightWood” is made up of five “encounters,” as the creative team refers to them, within a landscape that Wharton herself designed during the 10 years she spent at the Mount, beginning in 1901. In a sense, the show is an homage to her love of both nature and architecture, Wissler said, but there are no overt references to the author or to particular narratives or symbols.
“Rather than referencing specific works of fiction or religious traditions or holidays, we wanted to hint at those things in order to engage audiences with their own memories, stories from their childhood, things they ’ve read, movies they ’ve seen, services they ’ve attended or hikes on the woods they ’ve gone on—all of that goes into it,” Bocchiaro said.
The journey begins with a half-mile walk through the woods, lit by oil-burning torches that harken back to the ancient idea of fire as protection, he said. Kinneen’s lighting design enhances the feeling that there’s something alive beyond that protective bubble of light, something that can be sensed but not seen.
“I liked playing the different textures off of one another, starting in the woods with the wonderful play of firelight against bark and branches, and the relationships of shadows, heightening that sense of [wondering] what’s out there,” she said. She often draws inspiration from beloved children’s book illustrators, as in an encounter called “The Glade,” where she built “whimsical worlds for little imaginary creatures—the vines and lushness of summer are gone, but at night under the ground, the spaces come to life from within.”
As they pass through a series of courtyards and gardens, visitors are immersed
in atmospheric scenes, each with its own sound score that unfolds in conversation with the tonal and visual qualities of the light elements. To create what he described as “ambient soundscapes, with different musical moods for each space,” Hanson used a wide variety of sonic hues, from choral voices to Celtic and West African instrumentation to shattering sounds that recall ice cracking. For each installation, the looping cycle of light and music lasts roughly 10 minutes; viewers can move through at their own pace.
The idea for the project was sparked more than a decade ago, when Wissler visited the ruins of an English cathedral brought to life with lights and choral music. But the pandemic, which necessitated the closing of the main house at the Mount to visitors, provided the motivation to manifest it. Ultimately, “Nightwood” was a reinvention of its creators’ milieu and approach—they primarily work in theater, which has not been an option since March—as well as a reinvention of the Mount to fit both the circumstances and the season.
“Most people who go there in winter are likely there to go into the house, so a project like this extends the seasonal life of the grounds,” Bocchiaro said. “The emotional arc is based on the sense of things coming to a close, getting colder and darker, and we embraced that coldness and that darkness.”
We were very clear that we were not interested in a traditional holiday light show but rather something simultaneously more primitive and more sophisticated.”
— Susan Wissler