What is a Projection Designer?

A Discipline Most People Don't Know Exists

Projection design is the term United Scenic Artists uses to describe the role of adding film, video, media, and moving images to a theatrical production. That can mean literal projectors throwing images on a wall. It can mean a full wall of LED panels. It can mean video screens, animation, real 16mm film, or digital scenery that tracks moving set pieces in real time.

Here's what's interesting: projection design in theater is about as old as cinema itself. Designers were experimenting with projected images in stage productions as early as 1905. But it wasn't until the 1990s and early 2000s—when the technology got cheap enough and accessible enough to integrate in a major way—that it became its own recognized discipline.

Most people have no idea this is a career. I didn't know when I started. I was in the directing track at Arizona State, constantly adding video and computers to my work and other people's shows, but I had no clue it was something you could study. I thought you just showed up one day in tech, rigged up some Windows Media Player thing, pressed go, and left.

Then I saw a lecture by Jake Pinholster—a media designer who worked on the original Spamalot and Wicked—where he talked about projection design as a discipline with its own department, supported by the production. It clicked. That's when I understood the entire scope of what this work actually is.

The Ever-Changing Nature of the Work

One of the major reasons I love this field is that it's not stagnant. Scenic design and lighting design have new technology, of course they do. But projection and video? The churn of technology is so fast and so overwhelming that it fundamentally changes how we work.

Look at Wicked—it's been running for years. They had to rip out all their computers and replace everything because the manufacturer stopped making the hardware that ran the projections. They had three machines running the show, spares ready to swap out, and then there was nowhere to get them anymore. So they updated the entire system.

When I first started, I was using film cameras—literal dark room, chemicals, developing prints to use in shows. I remember the person running the dark room at my university telling me it was the last season with actual film chemicals. Now you wouldn't use that aesthetic unless it was specifically about the filmness of it. You'd use a computer.

Everything is evolving. LED screens are getting transparent, bendable. Projectors are getting brighter. Real-time engines are making interactive environments possible. I'm constantly updating my education, learning new software. That's what makes it the most changing discipline in theater design—and that's what I find really fascinating.

What It Looks Like on Broadway

I've designed projection and video for The Wiz, Aladdin, Motown the Musical, Jekyll & Hyde, national tours like Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat, plus ballet with choreographer Christopher Wheeldon, cruise ship productions, and consulting work on films for practical projection effects.

On The Wiz, I was originally titled "projection designer," but when we transferred to Broadway the title became "projection and video designer" because people needed clarity that my responsibilities weren't just projections—they included animation and digital scenery. The terms are somewhat interchangeable. Projection designer, media designer, video designer—I tend to use projection design because it sounds the coolest.

The work varies wildly. Aladdin uses both video and projection. Bring It On had four video screens and no projectors at all, but we still called it projection design. Sometimes we're doing rear projection from behind the scenery so actors don't cast shadows. Sometimes we're doing front projection and dealing with people walking through the beam. Sometimes we're tracking moving scenery using infrared cameras or data from the automation system so the projected image stays locked to a castle wall moving at three feet per second across the stage.

How the Design Process Works

Before rehearsals start, I'm meeting with the director, set designer, lighting designer, and sound designer to build a shared visual language. What's the world of the show? What does the storytelling need?

From there, I sketch, storyboard, and build animatics in 2D and 3D software. I'm thinking about how content will live on physical surfaces—is it a flat wall, a curved scrim, a floor? How does it interact with the lighting rig? When does it need to shift in real time with performers?

During tech, I'm refining timing around the actors and scenic shifts. Then I lock the playback cues into the theater's control system—usually a dedicated media server—so they repeat flawlessly eight shows a week. The goal is to make the technology invisible. When a digital sunset matches the warmth of the lighting rig, the scene feels unified and alive. The audience shouldn't be thinking about projectors. They should be thinking about the story.

The Tools We Use

The toolkit includes compositing and animation software like After Effects and Cinema 4D, projection mapping suites, dedicated playback systems like disguise or Watchout, and increasingly real-time game engines.

But mastery of software matters less than clear communication. Projection designers translate the director's vision into cues that lighting programmers, video engineers, automation operators, and stage managers can all execute. You're the bridge between creative intent and technical implementation.

The Realities of Live Theater

Every show has constraints. Tight timelines. Scripts that change mid-rehearsal. Content that looks perfect in the studio but behaves unexpectedly once it's on the actual set under stage lights.

Broadway theaters are mostly historical landmarks—you can't drill a hole in the back wall of the Marquis. There's often no room for rear projection, so you're solving spatial puzzles. And theater happens in real time during real life. On The Wiz at the Marquis, we'd get vibrations from dance classes in the hotel ballrooms upstairs, and the projections would shake. You solve it and keep going. We don't get to pause and take another take.

The work succeeds when the team stays adaptable and solves challenges quickly so the story keeps moving.

The Discipline's Growing Recognition

There's no Tony Award category for projection designers yet, though we sometimes ride the coattails of scenic or lighting or sound when shows win. But the discipline has moved from experiment to expectation. United Scenic Artists recognizes it as its own department. Productions budget for it. Audiences expect it.

I was lucky to receive USITT's Rising Star Award early in my career. I'm looking forward to the day projection design gets its own Tony category—because the work has become that essential to contemporary storytelling.

For People Who Want to Get Into This

Honestly, cold calling is the answer. I made a list of designers whose work I admired, Googled each person, and sent emails. Everyone responded. A few agreed to coffee. A few let me intern or assist on a show. That's how it works.

Theater design is hungry for talent. Everyone is always looking for the next assistant, the next intern. Ninety-nine percent of the job is getting the job, and ninety-nine percent of getting the job is showing up.

You don't have to be in New York, but you have to put yourself out there. Reach out. Make contact. This is an industry about people and real human connection. Most of us are just theater kids who grew up, and we're always interested in talking to the next generation.

If you're watching this or reading this, email me. I'm dying for someone to reach out. I keep a Google sheet of assistants and emerging talent. If the timing isn't right when you contact me, I'll add you to the list and connect you with someone else. But you have to make the first move.