Jennifer Roshni Lal was known by many different names to many different people: Treasurer of the Swim Club 2025, Aunty, sports fan, Lalstar and sis. To me she was Mum, not in a biological sense, or even in a whāngai sense. As many of her relationships went, it was born out of a gag in a production week, where she was constantly auditioning to play my mother in a play that I was writing at the time. It stuck and I don’t think we ever called each other by our names ever again.

Her loss dims the stages across Aotearoa. From the late 80’s in Dunedin all the way up to just earlier this year, Jen has been a trailblazing, kick-ass, loud-mouthed, but deeply sensitive lighting designer, production and tour manager for just about every single theatre and theatre company in the country.

Her work as a lighting designer has stretched from the co-op share organised chaos of the regular Public Service Announcements shows at Circa Theatre, to the mainstages of Auckland Theatre Company. From the homegrown tours with Taki Rua, to London with Tawata Productions. Before that she was a 90’s kid with a love for basketball, and a penchant for lighting fires that she definitely was not allowed to.

Jen has been a staunch advocate for the working rights of techies in Aotearoa her entire career. Advocating for fair remuneration and teaching entire generations to work for what they’re worth. She even took pay cuts as a lighting designer in the name of advocacy for techs, mechanists and programmers to be able to do their work sustainably. Blue lights were a signature of Jen’s as well as a gaggle of foul-mouthed naughty kids who don’t quite look like your normal “theatre folk.”

Jen’s impact on the industry is undeniable and unshakeable. She is present in every blue light on stage, present in the techie refusing to do your show for a co-op share, present in the raucous laughter that fills a venue. She has been a mentor to a ridiculous many and her mark is left in every single theatre in this country.

On Friday the 28 November a memorial was held for Jen at Auckland Theatre Company’s Balmoral studios. It was a celebration for the queen of the naughty kids, lighting designer extraordinaire, and uncertified pyrotechnician Jennifer Roshni Lal. Hosted by Radar with wit and deftness. Yes it was sad, of course it was, a lot of us were sad, but if you were a friend of Jen’s you loved to laugh and you probably laughed at some quite macabre topics, so it was fitting for a tribute to Jen that a room was filled with rapturous laughter. I was a snivelling mess in the corner while I listened to one of my favourite tributes. Anna Cameron, recounted Jen’s life from the 80’s through to now. From her wannabe streetkid style (which she never shook) all the way to her saving an ATC production post pandemic in 2022.

Hera Dunleavy and Nicola Kawana, some of Jen’s closest and dearest friends, shared frankly ridiculous stories about their old mate. Kura Forrester sang Joyful Joyful by Lauryn Hill while a small but committed group did the full choreo to the finale of Sister Act 2. Sophie Henderson shared Jen's impact on Silo Theatre Company. The Naked Samoans shared their tribute for Jen which mostly consisted of negging the crowd for not being invited to her “actual memorial” for close friends and family. Sam Brooks reflected on Jennifer's dedication to making cool shit and doing it for the sake of making cool shit. After the speeches we moved outside and set off a whole bunch of fireworks in the parking lot, definitely has never been done before and I’d be surprised if it ever happened again. A final bang of naughtiness and joyful carnage for the most joyfully naughty of us all.

I’ll always remember Jen in a camo windbreaker, bright pants that are a gradient of blue to red, one leg pulled really high up. Super long LA Lakers socks (a team she supported because the initials spell LAL) and white sneakers. I’ll remember her cackling in the corner at me when I’m sulking after a shit run, I’ll remember her telling me off for vaping in the theatre even though she did it all the time, I’ll remember her telling somebody off through proxy of me, because she knew they would hear it better if it wasn’t directed at them (strange but true). I’ll remember her saying she’s quit smoking and vaping, but immediately rushing to bum some nicotine off any punter carrying. I’ll remember her for her hugs, her cheek kisses, her making me laugh till my tummy hurt, her pranks, her atomic anger at shitty parking. My Mum, I’ll remember her, and her lights, her beautiful lights.

Her name will be spoken for generations to come and for the moment the stages are a little bit dimmer, the foyers a little bit quieter, but she lives on in us. Roshni means light in Hindi, and we’ve lost a bright one, but she’s sparked so many lights to shine bright across our stages, so that we will. Shine bright for Jennifer Roshni Lal.