Lasers, Pot Smoke, and the “Visual Art of the Future”

For some readers, one of the curious by-products of the 1960s-era art & technology movement might conjure up some hazy, hopefully fond memories – a toke in the VW, some comfy seats, Pink Floyd, and…lasers. Yes — I’m talking Laserium.

Screen Shot 2014-12-19 at 3.39.31 PM

Laserium, in Marvel’s The Amazing Spider Man, 1977

This image of wide-eyed stoners gazing in awe at laser beams synched to Led Zeppelin or the Electric Light Orchestra is at least how how the Amazing Spider Man and The Simpsons presented Laserium. Just ask Ben Stiller or The New York Times. OK – so straight-arrow Peter Parker probably wasn’t indulging in reefer madness. But his girlfriend was named Mary Jane. Anyway…

Laserium was the direct result of art-engineering experiments that physicist Elsa Garmire began to do at Caltech in the late 1960s. While in Pasadena, she combined her skill with lasers to a burgeoning interest in the art & technology movement that peaked around 1970.

Garmire’s experimental live laser shows caught the attention of Ivan Dryer, a Los Angeles-based film maker. Before working in the entertainment business, Dryer was an “astronomy freak” but one more interested in the “mystiques of space…not the mechanics of it,” as he told People magazine in 1976. Before moving into the film industry, Dryer worked as a guide at Griffith Observatory in Los Angeles.

Screen Shot 2014-12-19 at 3.43.56 PM

Ivan Dryer, n.d. but – judging from the clothes – late 1970s

After seeing Garmire’s presentation, Dryer visited her Caltech lab. He and a colleague brought a camera with the intent of filming the “marvelous shapes and forms” that Garmire’s laser system generated.1

Screen shot 2014-12-25 at 12.02.11 PM

Filming a laser show in Garmire’s lab, likely 1970 or 1971.

Dryer soon realized that filming Garmire’s laser images was aesthetically inferior to seeing the intensity and purity of their colors in person. In the fall of 1970, he arranged for a live and – to his eyes – captivating demonstration of Garmire’s system, accompanied by classical music, for Griffith staff in the observatory’s planetarium dome. The observatory management, however, was less enchanted with what they saw as entertainment, not education. Disappointed but still motivated, Dryer and Garmire co-founded a company in February 1971 called Laser Images Inc.. Riffing on the popularity of planetarium shows, they called their product “Laserium.”2

For the next few years, Dryer and Garmire worked intermittently to perfect their laser show and attract interest. A representative from Spectra-Physics, a southern California company that made some of the first commercial lasers, loaned them a krypton laser system that could produce multiple colors. In June 1973, they invited the new director of Griffith Observatory William Kaufmann III, to see an improved demonstration at Garmire’s lab. Kauffmann, then in his early 30s, had a more liberal view of what the public might want to see at the observatory and he arranged for Dryer and McDonald to have access to the planetarium dome.

In mid-November 1973, spurred by Dryer’s appearance on a morning television show, some 700 people showed up at Griffith to see the debut of what became known simply as Laserium. Classical and art rock music – Pink Floyd’s prog rock epics would prove to be an audience fave – provided the soundtrack as multi-color laser images were projected in real-time on the planetarium’s starry background.

Screen Shot 2015-01-16 at 2.42.13 PM

Laserium program, c. 1977 (courtesy Ron Hipschman)

Word of mouth helped expand the audience and, by the time the initial four week engagement at Griffith ended, hundreds of people were being turned away for laser shows. Other observatory directors in cities like Denver and New York City were intrigued.

Screen Shot 2014-12-19 at 3.40.31 PM

Promotional flyer for early Laserium shows, after the technique had caught on and spread beyond southern California, c. 1975 (Image courtesy of Laserium)

By 1977, Dryer’s growing team of live laser performers were putting on shows in more than 15 cities in the U.S. and abroad and Laserium was a registered trademark.3

Beginning with custom equipment, eventually Laserium was based around a standard system, details of which are preserved in the patent application Dryer and two colleagues filed in July 1975 for a “laser light image generator” that can create a “plurality of light images in different colors from a single laser light.”4

Screen Shot 2015-01-16 at 1.24.19 PM

1977 patent for the techniques behind Laserium.

The projection unit was rectangular in shape, about 2’ by 6’ by 3’. The heart of the system was a one-watt krypton gas laser which would be split by prisms into four colors. Other optics, scanners, and oscillators allowed for extremely rapid play of images, closed linear shapes, Lissajous figures, and so on. An operator sat at a console where she could access a variety of switches and joysticks to play the “instrument.”

Screen Shot 2015-01-16 at 1.56.09 PM

Laserium console from 1980s. (Source)

A four-track tape deck had music in stereo as well as audio for the show’s introduction and narration. For new laserists, a “teach track” helped them learn the system and the best timing for performances. The basic format of each show was preprogrammed by the “laserist” who had considerable opportunity to vary and change the tempo and image sequences. Laserium shows were performed live and the quality of them, as well as the audience’s response, depended on the skill and imagination of the system operator.

Screen Shot 2015-01-16 at 2.39.12 PM

Laserium operator, 1974 (image thanks to Ron Hipschman)

Laserium had a broad appeal – stoners, geeks, and planetarium junkies all turned out to see shows. Its popularity was no doubt enhanced by the relative novelty of lasers for the general public in the mid-1970s. The 1977 film Star Wars added to people’s interest in all things laser. A sense of the excitement can be seen in this 1976 program.

Screen Shot 2014-12-19 at 3.39.57 PM

Cover of 1976 program for Laserium. (Image courtesy of Laserium)

Just as planetarium shows have helped popularize astronomy, Laserium can be seen as a public display of laser technology, its roots traceable back to 19th century displays of electricity and electrical effects.

It was not without its aesthetic admirers. One art writer, for example, referred to experiments with laser projection as the “seeds of what will become the high, universally acclaimed visual art of the future.”5 Given Laserium’s penchant for attracting attendees whose appreciation of choreographed laser light was chemically enhanced, “high” visual art takes on another meaning as well.

After peaking in the late 1970s when some 70 people worked for the company, Laserium slowly faded in popularity. Often lampooned as the preferred entertainment of pot heads and LSD trippers, we can also see Laserium as the somewhat disreputable cousin of the venerable planetarium show. Nonetheless, by 2002, some 20 million people around the world had seen a Laserium show – its run at Griffith lasted some 28 years – and its idiosyncratic blend of music and spectacle had become part of popular culture.

Screen Shot 2014-12-19 at 3.39.16 PM

Laserium on cover of a 1980 comic. I’m pretty sure I owned this at one point.

One of the goals of formal artist-engineer collaborations was to generate technical “fallout” – ideas that could benefit corporate patrons – as well as spinoffs of new companies. Laserium was one of the most commercially successful results from the fecund artist-engineer collaborations of the late 1960s.

More importantly, Laserium offers another data point that says we can no longer think of the late 1960s and early 1970s as an “anti-science” or “anti-technology” period. A more informed and nuanced reading tells us that engineers, artists, and society in general sought and found alternative forms of science and technology. Laserium was a colorful off-shoot of this search for a different, groovier, science.

  1. Recounted in “Applications Pioneer Interview: Ivan Dryer,” Laser and Applications, October 1986, 53-58. []
  2. The idea of doing live laser shows did not originate with Dryer, et al. It was an idea, certainly, already in the air in the late 1960s. Lowell Cross, a multi-media artist, claims to have performed the first “public multi-color laser light show” in May 1969 at Mills College. Cross would go on to collaborate with Berkeley physicist Carson D. Jeffries and composer David Tudor to create a laser light show for the Pepsi Pavilion at Osaka Expo ’70. []
  3. Garmire’s involvement with Laserium was the end of her collaboration with artists. She left the company amicably in 1974 and she pursued a successful scientific career in laser science and physics at the University of Southern California (1974) and then Dartmouth College (1995), eventually becoming a dean of engineering at Dartmouth. []
  4. Dan Slater, Ivan M. Dryer, and Charles W. McDonald. “Laser Light Image Generator.” U.S. Patent 4,006,970 , filed 14 July 1975, issued 8 February 1977. []
  5. Andrew Kagan, “Laserium: New Light on an Ancient Vision,” Arts Magazine, March 1978. []

Art at the Speed of Light

After physicists first demonstrated the optical laser in May 1960, scientists and engineers started thinking of what they could do with it. So did artists. By 1970, these communities, often collaborating with one another, transformed lasers into a novel artistic medium.

Screen shot 2014-12-25 at 10.14.02 AM

The first optical (red) laser, tested May 1960.

For a short period, Elsa M. Garmire was part of the artist-engineer interactions that peaked in the late 1960s and early 1970s. Raised by her chemical engineer father and her homemaker/violin teacher mother, by the age of 12 Garmire wanted to be a scientist. After doing an undergrad degree at Radcliffe, she started graduate school in MIT’s physics program. Her specialty was optics and lasers and she was advised by Charles Townes, MIT’s new provost who had shared the 1964 Nobel for his laser and maser research.

Screen shot 2014-12-25 at 10.35.00 AM

Garmire and Townes, c. 1965

In 1966, Garmire moved to California for a postdoctoral position at Caltech. Caring for two young children, increasingly unhappy with her marriage, and stymied by the school’s treatment of women faculty, Garmire began to consider other options.

Intrigued by the use of technology “in a non-logical, artistic way” she contacted Billy Klüver in the summer of 1968. An engineer at Bell Labs, Klüver was the driving force behind Experiments in Art and Technology, the most prominent of the American organizations started in the 1960s to catalyze artist-engineer collaborations. Impressed with Garmire’s enthusiasm and background – Klüver did laser research too – he brought her into the E.A.T. fold.

An active member of E.A.T.’s branch in Los Angeles, Garmire organized, for example, a “Cybernetic Moon Landing Celebration” in July 1969 at Caltech. This included a “laser wall” Garmire helped build – a low-power argon laser beam spread into multiple lines of color that people could walk through.

Screen shot 2014-12-25 at 10.35.48 AM

“Laser Wall” at Caltech, July 1969

Garmire captured her thoughts on the relationship between art and technology in a short piece published in a newsletter the local E.A.T. chapter put out. “Technological art,” she wrote, “is the first step toward eliminating this divinity of technological wonders…The technological artist approaches and utilizes the incomprehensible for his own ends in ways often irrelevant to the original ‘purpose’ of the device.”1

Screen shot 2014-12-25 at 10.35.17 AM

Garmire in her lab, c. 1970.

Garmire, working in her Caltech lab, became increasingly interested in exploring the aesthetic possibilities of lasers. Initially, Garmire created “lasergrams” – still photographs made by shining laser beams through various diffraction media. Here’s one example from 1969. It’s similar in appearance to the active, changing Lumia pieces made by the Danish-born artist Thomas Wilfred.

Screen shot 2014-12-25 at 10.47.14 AM

One of Garmire’s laser art images, 1969.

Another Garmire creation from the same period is less diffuse and more geometric in shape:

Another of Garmire's laser art pieces.

Another of Garmire’s laser art pieces.

Caltech’s public relations department generated attention for her artwork in 1971.  Unfortunately, a powerful earthquake on the day of Garmire’s opening at a local gallery overshadowed the publicity and also damaged some of her pieces.

Screen shot 2014-12-25 at 10.47.44 AM

Garmire on local Pasadena TV.

Garmire also explored a variation on photographing manipulated laser images via live shows using a HeNe laser and rotating diffraction wheels and then filming the changing shapes and colors.

Screen shot 2014-12-25 at 12.02.11 PM

Garmire and Ivan Dryer in her Caltech lab, 1970. This sowed the seeds for what eventually became Laserium.

The idea of doing live laser shows was already in the air in the late 1960s. For example, Lowell Cross, a multi-media artist, performed the first “public multi-color laser light show” in May 1969 at Mills College. Cross later collaborated with Berkeley physicist Carson D. Jeffries and composer David Tudor to create a laser light show for the interior of the Pepsi Pavilion at Expo ’70 in Osaka. This used a laser deflection system which manipulated the four colors from a krypton laser. Highly sensitive mirrors in the system could vibrate up to rates of 500 times per second and were activated from the sound system in the Pavilion’s mirror dome.

Screen shot 2014-12-25 at 11.11.36 AM

Cross’ laser piece for Pavilion, 1970.

Cross’ work was only one example of attempts by professional artists to adapt the laser for aesthetic purposes. Another notable effort was by Rockne Krebs, an American artist who made laser-based sculptures for several years starting in the late 1960s.

Screen shot 2014-12-25 at 11.21.20 AM

Krebs with his piece Sculpture Minus Object, 1968

Over time, Krebs expanded his focus from small-scale efforts using lasers in rooms and galleries to ambitious outdoor installations that incorporated building and landscapes into the work. Harking back – unconsciously, most likely – to Garmire’s experiments, his piece The Green Hypotenuse (1983) used a 7 mile-long laser beam that stretched from the observatory on Mt. Wilson down to Caltech.

Screen shot 2014-12-25 at 11.19.03 AM

The Green Hypotenuse, 1983

A key difference between Garmire’s “lasergrams” and installations made by artists like Krebs is the latter’s ephemeral nature. When the laser was turned off, the art disappeared. All that’s left are the sketches that went into its planning – “drawings for sculpture you can walk through” according to the title for one Krebs’ exhibit.

Physicist Garmire’s experiments in blending art and technology were only slightly less ephemeral. In 1973, she co-taught a course on art and technology to undergrads at Caltech before leaving on a lengthy sabbatical trip with her family. By 1975, she was a single parent trying to return to a career in science. She did this with a vengeance. She held faculty positions at USC and then Dartmouth, eventually becoming dean of engineering there. Along the way, she made a point to promote the professional activities of women in science and engineering fields.

Screen shot 2014-12-25 at 11.56.20 AM

Garmire and her former advisor, Charles Townes, 2007

Professional accolades accrued –  election to the National Academy of Engineering and the American Academy of Arts and Sciences. She was also made a fellow of the Institute of Electrical and Electronic Engineers, the American Physical Society, and the Optical Society of America (she served as OSA’s president in 1993). A new husband, her two kids, and her scientific career – these, instead of art, became the lights of her life.


  1. Elsa Garmire, “Art and Technology: Ruminations of an Engineer,” E.A.T. L.A. #1, January 1970, p. 5. []

Fog & Physics

Every day, hundreds of visitors to the recently relocated Exploratorium in San Francisco cross a pedestrian bridge between Piers 15 and 17. Here, if the timing is right, they can encounter and play within an immersive fog sculpture. “Fog Bridge” was conceived and designed by Japanese artist Fujiko Nakaya. Its existence as interplay between art, aesthetics, and physics can be traced back more than four decades.

Screen Shot 2014-12-10 at 5.13.36 PM

Fog bridge at the Exploratorium; photograph by Gayle Laird © Exploratorium

Nakaya’s work began in the 1960s during the brief but potent flowering of formal collaborations between artists and engineers. A signature piece of this “art & tech” movement was the Pavilion. Initiated and sponsored by Pepsi-Cola, the multi-media experience that was the Pavilion opened in the spring of 1970 as part of Expo ’70 in Osaka. In an era marked by Big Science – typified by expensive large-scale research collaborations – we can see the Pavilion as the aesthetic analog: Big Art.


The Pavilion at night; Osaka, 1970.

Organized by Experiments in Art and Technology (or E.A.T.), a group co-founded in 1966 by Bell Labs engineer Billy Klüver, scores of artists, engineers, and staff worked to bring the Pavilion into existence. Meanwhile, Pepsi poured over some $1.2 million into funding their work.1


Part of the team that made the Pavilion possible.

The Pavilion was the apogee of the “art & tech” movement of the 1960s and, as Klüver often pointed out, one of the grandest art projects of the 20th century. Visually, the most striking thing about the Pavilion, at least from the outside, was how much of it you couldn’t see. This is because the designers of Pavilion decided early on to shroud (perhaps hide?) the Pavilion’s crumpled geodesic-style dome – what one E.A.T. member lampooned as a “Buckled Fuller dome” – with fog.2 This was no natural fog however, but an artificially generated veil of atomized water droplets crafted by Nakaya and engineered by a small California company.


Fujiko Nakaya, c. 2005.

Born in Sapporo in 1933, Fujiko Nakaya was the daughter of Japanese physicist Ukichiro Nakaya. He became well-known in mid-20th century for his path-breaking research on the science of snow.

Screen Shot 2014-12-10 at 5.16.52 PM

Ukichiro Nakaya, c. 1940

For decades, Nakaya – recently featured in a Google doodle – worked to perfect lab techniques for making artificial snow crystals. He then rigorously studied their structure and developed a classification system for them.3

Screen Shot 2014-12-10 at 5.41.26 PM

Nakaya in the lab, c. 1940.

The culmination of Ukichiro Nakaya’s work was a 1954 book published by Harvard University Press called Snow Crystals: Natural and Artificial. Snow flakes, he wrote, were “hieroglyphs sent from the sky.”

Screen Shot 2014-12-10 at 5.42.12 PM

Ukichiro Nakaya’s 1954 book

His daughter, Fujiko, took her father’s empirical approach to understanding a specific meteorological phenomenon and applied it to art. After graduating from college in 1959 at Northwestern University, she spent two years at the Sorbonne in Paris where she studied painting. Around 1966, she met Klüver and participated in the (in)famous 9 Evenings: Theatre and Engineering show at the 69th Street Armory in New York City. When Klüver and E.A.T. got the nod from Pepsi to do the Pavilion, Nakaya became a central person in the project. Besides handling logistics and smoothing over Japanese-American interactions, in Osaka, she designed the fog sculpture that would surround the building.

Producing fog from pure water isn’t easy however. In nature, fog is often produced when the air temperature drops until the air is saturated and water droplets condense. One way to generate artificial fog would be to boil water which, when surrounded by cooler air, condenses. Another would be to dramatically cool the Pavilion’s roof. Both of these approaches would require huge amounts of energy. But there was a third method, the one that Nakaya wanted to do. Fog can also be made by atomizing water i.e. basically spraying tiny droplets of water into the atmosphere.

To realize her aesthetic goal, Nakaya struck up a collaboration with a physicist based in Southern California. Thomas R. Mee moved to the Pasadena area after working on a variety of weather modification projects for Cornell University in the early 1960s. After working a few years for Meteorological Research Inc..4  In 1969, he started his own company. Initially, Mee Industries Inc. made niche instrumentation for weather and pollution studies.

Screen Shot 2014-12-11 at 2.50.19 PM

Tom Mee, shown in 1985.

In June 1969, Nakaya contacted Mee who had never heard of E.A.T. and was unaware of plans to combine art and engineering at the Osaka fair. But he was “impressed by her knowledge of cloud physics” – Mee had met Nakaya’s father and was well-aware of snow research – and her probing questions about how one might go about making fog.

Mee w agreed to meet with Nakaya and experiment with a method in which water was sprayed under high pressure through a very narrow nozzle to produce a dense cloud of tiny water droplets. More experiments and hardware development followed. A few months later, on a hot, dry August day in California, Nakaya and Mee met in his Altadena backyard, set up the equipment – 60 pin-jet nozzles connected to piping in which water was pumped at 500 psi – and successfully tested a prototype system. The result was a large cloud of artificial fog that partially obscured Mee’s house.

Screen Shot 2014-12-10 at 5.14.44 PM

Testing Mee’s fog system, August 1969.

The nest step was to scale up the system in Osaka for the Pavilion. Ultimately, 2,520 of Mee’s specially-crafted nozzles and 11,000 gallons of water an hour would enshroud the Pavilion in an ever-changing fog sculpture some 150 feet in diameter. The humid Osaka air cooled the air around the Pavilion so that the pure white fog that Mee’s system generated poured down over the structure in patterns that Nakaya wanted. To pull this off, Nakaya and a team of specialists carried out detailed monitoring of the environment around the Pavilion site to account for wind speed, humidity, and temperature.


Fog-shrouded Pavilion, Osaka Expo ’70.

After Expo ’70 ended,  Mee’s company eventually began to sell fog-making systems. A patent application he submitted in 1970 cites the possibility of using his system for agricultural purposes, either for cooling areas or frost control, as well as producing a “visible cloud” which can have a “highly decorative and entertaining effect.” By 1985, company sales were approaching $2 million. After some rough financial times as a public company, the company rebounded as Mee’s children – Tom Mee passed away in 1998 – took over the business and a controlling interest in the firm. The company saw a major expansion in 1997 when the Tennessee Valley Authority decided to install fog systems on its four dozen gas turbines to improve their efficiency. Similar orders followed and the company expanded into other areas such as providing cooling for data server installations for companies like Facebook. As of 2014, some 80 people work for the company.

Fujiko Nakaya and Tom Mee maintained a working relationship, with his company providing hardware for her art installations. Since Expo ’70, she has created a variety of fog works – gardens, geysers, falls – at sites around the world including the Guggenheim Museum Bilbao in Spain. Besides the “Fog Bridge” at the Exploratorium, she recently crafted an immersive environmental piece called “Veil” for the Glass House, a work of modern architecture by Philip Johnson from 1949. At the Glass House, Nakaya’s fog appears every 15 minutes or so, obscuring the house (as it did with Pavilion) and making it appear to vanish.

Screen Shot 2014-12-11 at 3.03.28 PM

Nakaya’s fog sculpture at the Glass House, 2014.

As a young artist, Nakaya painted clouds. But, as she told The New York Timesthe activism of the 1960s made her want to interact more directly with the environment and society. Where the elder Nakaya wanted to control and classify the creation of ice crystals, his daughter’s approach is orthogonal – change, chance, and contingency dominate. Both are united, however, in combining physics with an aesthetic sensibility.

  1. Over $7 million in today’s currency. []
  2. This choice stemmed, in part, from the fact that Klüver and the other E.A.T. members disliked the Pavilion’s architecture, which Pepsi selected and a Japanese firm produced. Nakaya’s fog offered a way to obscure it. []
  3. I find Nakaya’s snow research just fascinating;there’s a good graduate student project here… []
  4. This company was started in 1951 by Paul MacCready (1925-2007), a Caltech graduate who later became famous for designing and building the Gossamer Condor, a human-powered aircraft. MacCready later started another southern California company, AeroVironment, which today is one of the largest manufacturers of unmanned aerial vehicles (“drones”). []