Designing With Instinct: The Briese Light and a Universal Studios Launch

When you’re called to helm a large-scale print and motion project as creative director, art director, and production artist within a month, there is no room for hesitation. You roll up your sleeves and move.

“I want this project to look like the lighter side of P90X. It should feel a bit scientific, but still ooze cinematic intensity.”

That was the direction Sean gave me during our first meeting. He was leading Universal Studios London’s expansion into the fitness space, and I had been recommended because of my experience designing for blockbusters like P90X, Shaun T's Insanity, and the Telly Award-winning ChaLEAN Extreme. I had also recently completed creative work for Western Digital during their push into gaming, where some of the visual language leaned moodier and more cinematic. Looking back, those massive fitness projects taught me a lot about navigating large corporate engines, but at the time, I was simply deep in the design trenches.

(Side note: I only wish I had been the one styling Chalene Johnson’s wardrobe for the ChaLEAN Extreme shoot. I would have opted for authentic over the aesthetic used—but ensuring wardrobe actually speaks to the truth of the fitness trainer is a masterclass for another article).

Back at our meeting, Sean dropped the real question.
“Can you do it in thirty days?”

Of course I could.

Not because I had everything figured out, but because I recognized the feeling immediately.

Time and experience teaches that there is indeed a difference between attention and alignment. Some projects feed the ego but disconnect the spirit. Others awaken something deeper and move through you almost instinctively. This project felt aligned from the beginning. The emotional tone was clear before a single frame existed.

When something resonates deeply enough, movement follows naturally.

Not long after, I was introduced to PJ, the trainer who would become both the creator and face of the program. He owned a CrossFit-based gym in Los Angeles, and we met for coffee to discuss the vision. We connected instantly. Our rapport on this project would later lead us to collaborate on a Reebok spec commercial I shot and directed, highlighting his role as a brand ambassador. As PJ shared his transformation story and his Midwestern roots, sunlight moved quietly behind him, wrapping across his shoulder with impossible timing.

I stopped mid-sentence.

“Look at that light,” I said to Sean. “Look at the natural rim along his head and shoulder.”

The moment stayed with me because it felt honest. Not manufactured. Not performative. Honest.

That became the emotional reference point for the entire project.

From there, I assembled my team quickly. Although the campaign was primarily print-based, it also required motion work, so I brought in cinematographer Austin Schmidt, one of my creative collaborators. Austin suggested incorporating a Briese light directly into the frame to reinforce the scientific undertone of the campaign.

It was exactly what we needed.

The existing creative direction leaned sterile and overexposed, dominated by flat white environments that felt emotionally disconnected from the intensity fitness actually requires. I wasn’t interested in creating darkness simply to look cinematic. Every visual decision needed to support the emotional truth of the project.

Fitness already lives inside tension, repetition, discipline, exhaustion, and transformation. The imagery needed to honor that reality instead of polishing it away.

Originally developed in Germany by Briese Lichttechnik, the Briese lighting system is known for producing an unusually soft yet directional quality of light. Unlike traditional softboxes, the Briese reflector creates illumination with precision while still preserving atmosphere and depth. The result feels less like studio lighting and more like sculpted daylight.

Human. Dimensional. Alive.

That balance between science and emotion became central to the visual language we were building.

Austin and I began experimenting by gently swaying the main light overhead while PJ moved through sections of the workout routine. The goal was to create something almost dancerly, where light itself became part of the choreography.

It was not a simple setup. The fixture was enormous, and our grips worked carefully to secure it safely overhead. But the effort was worth it. The light moved across PJ’s body in a way I had never quite seen before. It revealed movement instead of merely illuminating it.

Those moments became some of my favorite frames from the entire production.

Technology continues to evolve at an astonishing pace. LED volume stages like those used on The Mandalorian have transformed filmmaking in extraordinary ways. But there is still something irreplaceable about shaping light physically in-camera. Practical light breathes differently. It reacts unpredictably. It surprises you.

That unpredictability is where feeling lives.

For younger creatives, I think that distinction matters deeply. We live in a time where image-making is often driven by reaction, speed, and spectacle. It becomes easy to create for attention instead of meaning. Easy to confuse visibility with resonance.

But the projects that stay with people usually come from somewhere quieter and more truthful.

Over time, I’ve learned that protecting the integrity of an idea matters just as much as generating one. When we operate under God’s grace, our job shifts from trying to be sole originators to becoming stewards of His vision. Creative freedom is not about control for ego’s sake. It is about protecting the emotional truth of the work. Not every opportunity is worth abandoning your instincts for. Ultimately, those instincts are anchored in something higher—when we align ourselves with Him, we realize He is the true generator of the work, and we are simply the vessels the ideas flow through.

If a project feels deeply aligned, pursue it fully. But pursue it honestly.

What we created in thirty days demanded trust from everyone involved, and I remain grateful for the support I received from the team at Universal Studios London throughout the process.

No matter where the project ultimately landed, I remain proud of what we achieved together.

What stays with me most is not the tight deadline or the scale of the production. It is the reminder that while technology helps shape the image, it is that higher instinct—the truth we are trusted to carry—that ultimately gives it life.