Forty lamps, one extension reel that was not long enough, and the coldest night of the year.
The glasshouse at Fernwater was built to keep plants alive, not people comfortable, and on the twenty seventh of February it managed neither. We had gone to test the lighting plan: forty small lamps in glass, hung from the frame and set along the long table, with nothing else in the room.
What the light does
It does what the venue did on our first visit. At five o clock the room turns amber and every pane of glass holds a second, softer copy of each flame. With the lamps lit after dark the effect is the same, only closer, as though the walls were leaning in to listen.
We learned quickly that warm white beats everything else, that dimmable bulbs are worth the extra cost, and that lamps at eye level make everybody look kind. We also learned the hard way that forty lamps need three circuits, not one.
Warm white beats everything else, and eye level makes everybody look kind.
Half past one
We stayed until half past one because leaving meant switching them off. Gerald came out at midnight with a flask of tea and stood in the doorway for a while without saying anything, which from Gerald is high praise.
If you are planning something similar, test the lamps on a cold night at the real venue. Bring a blanket. Bring the second reel.
