Steve Libick Arts

Bringing out the murderous little old lady in me

2010-04-07T19:04:00.006-04:00

Arsenic and Old Lace

When I contacted the director at the local private high school, to see if he needed any help with the show this year, I learned that he would be moving just before performances, as his wife had found a new job out of state. The father of one of the students had already stepped in, so that the play could go through to performances, but he had little theatrical experience, aside from set building, so he welcomed me with open arms.

The division of labor quickly settled thus: He directed the action and headed set construction. He worked on programs and some advertising. I covered costumes, makeup, painting the set, props, cast t-shirts, additional advertising, and rounding up extras for some curtain-call cameos.

It was a really fun group of kids to work with, ranging from 8th to 12th grades. They were lively and spirited. It could have been an awkward and difficult situation, taking over for another director in the midst of the rehearsal process, but it all went quite smoothly.

The original director had planned on doing the whole show, sets, costumes, etc, in black and white. The new director decided he would prefer to use sepia tones. From there, we moved forward, buying things in deep and/or dull reds, and neutrals. (Would that we had money to buy things in the colors we really wanted!) In the end, if it didn't exactly look like a sepia tone photograph, it still gave off an old-fashioned feel, which was really the point all along.

For the most part, I hit up second hand shops to clothe the cast. I was kind of at the mercy of our local shops as to styles and colors, but over all the look came together smoothly. There were a few costume we knew from the outset would need to be rented. For instance, the script called for 3 police officers, and the director had added 2 more. There wasn't much chance of us finding 5 matching uniforms in the right sizes second hand. We also rented the costuming for Teddy, the lead character's nutty brother who believed himself to be Teddy Roosevelt. We rented a tails-tux, and a jungle explorer costume for him.

After some looking, I decided to construct a costume for our "leading lady." I contacted a local woman who had done some sewing for Shakespeare Players in the past, and she took on the project, and knocked it out of the ballpark, so to speak. We decided that the flirty girl next door would be a great spot to add some stronger red, and put her in a slinky little cranberry-colored satin cocktail dress. Then we added a sharp little blazer with pearl beadwork and lace, and a beige trench with satin accents.

My biggest project for this show, though was the wallpaper. The director was adamant that the walls not be a plain color, but we soon discovered that any wallpaper we could find had a prohibitive price tag. So I got out my stencil I'd made for "Meet Me in St. Louis" and went to town. I painted the set a base coat of a tera cotta burgundy tone, and then added some white to that for the stencil color. It gave a perfectly old fashioned old lady-ish feel.

I had originally been assured that I would have all the help I needed for the stenciling, and for the first day or two, that seemed to be the case. But as time wore on, my helpers wore out. By performances, I had been seen painting in the auditoreum past 2am on a number of occasions. One night I stumbled into bed at 5. But it was worth it. Every night, I heard exclamations about the beauty of the "wallpaper."

Another fun challenge this show presented was that most of the characters needed to be aged. I got lots of opportunity to brush up on my aging makeup techniques, as well as some contouring to make our leading couple just as good-looking as possible, and something of a crash course in Asian faces, something I had almost no experience with prior. Until you've worked on facial features of another race, there's really no way to know how different we all truly are.

Performances came off beautifully, with only occasional ad-libbing, and none such that the audience recognized it. We did have a little fun with the script, switching a deceased character's church affiliation to the prevailing local denomination. The line, "he's really quite good looking, considering he's a Wesleyan" got gales of laughter every night. Other favorites were when one of the police officers, a pretty blue eyed girl with soft golden curls, throws the unconscious bad guy over her shoulder and carries him off-stage. The audience also really enjoyed the curtain-call cameos. In the script, it's suggested that the old ladies' victims come trouping out of the cellar, where they've been buried, walk across stage morosely, and exit. Each night, it took them just a minute to figure out who these elderly gents were, doing a curtain call, though they hadn't been onstage during the performance. Of course, it was even funnier that all of our "dead guys" were teachers at the school and fathers of our actors.

This show really confirmed for me that I am pursuing the field I should. While certain aspects of the show were frustrating, I realized that it's my passion. I also had a chance to think about what I might do in a show where the budget was a little more generous. Rather that pulling off an entire show (rights, scripts, sets, costumes, advertising, etc, etc, etc) for $1500, there are shows that drop $1500 on one special effect, or on costuming for one character. I know I'm not likely to have that kind of money to throw around right away, but it's still fun to imagine what I might get to do one day.

Photography in this entry by Ron Bradbury.

The Fairies

2009-10-25T15:11:00.005-04:00

A Midsummer Night's Dream

The fairies were a lively, colorful bunch. I opted to put them in cool colors and neutrals, to provide a unified look, but still allow for variation. With heavy emphasis on the blues, we also included greens and purples, and a bit of gray, ivory and gold.

For the queen of the fairies, Titania, we cast a curvy statuesque young lady with elocution and presence to spare. We considered her and another actress for both the role of Titania and that of Hippolyta. When the other actress requested a small role, the decision was very easy, and both delivered their roles stellarly.

We decided that rather than encumber Titania with lots of details and frills, we would embrace her near-austerity, and work with one piece of fabric and her natural assets to create a uniquely ethereal look. A piece of teal-blue crimped material with a velvety sheen cascaded from her neckline to a puddle on the floor, its color, texture, and movement giving a definite aquatic impression. It draped and moved beautifully and afforded her a sensuality and a regal presence that pleased us tremendously.

We added tulle in a variety of light colors as a train and a furry-textured striped material as a shoulder strap, incorporating all the fairies' colors in the gown of the queen. I made a tiara of blue and green beads and gold wire to add another layer to her aquatic inspired look, and a delicate choker in tiny seed beads of blues, greens, and gold to add hints of sparkle.

With the fairy chorus, we were going for a very light-hearted, childlike ensemble, and encouraged them to play simple games like hula-hoop, pat-a-cake, paper-rock-scissors, tag, monkey-in-the-middle, and jump-rope. We encouraged giggling at any moment that wasn't specifically serious, and achieved the silly fickle-whimmed affect we were after.

In the script, Titania is given four attendants: Mustardseed, Cobweb, Peaseblossom, and Moth. We didn't challenge the immediate assumptions much. Mustardseed wore gold. She played her character with an innocence and a joyfulness that reached from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. Cobweb got gray and black, with bits of lace trim trailing from her arms to her bodice. She had the most dynamic makeup, with a cobweb painted on her cheek and bold green eyeliner. She lurked in corners and hung from elevated set pieces, exactly as a Cobweb ought. For Peaseblossom, we opted to focus on the "Pea" rather than the "blossom" and put her in lime green (which worked well- it's the actress's favorite color) with some circular motifs in the bodice and the hair. She had a natural enthusiasm tempered by sarcastic wit that read at a distance, and she played so sweetly with our changeling boy. Moth wore ivory with small accents of red. Her costume was very symmetrical and included large swooping pieces of beige lace draping below her arms. She developed her character beautifully, holding poses for a period of time before quick flighty movements brought her to a new pose.

We thought it seemed unlikely that Titania would assign all of her fairies to attend on Bottom, and introduced four more female fairies, and encouraged them to come up with their own names and personalities. Jay and Skylar were our "twins." At auditions we watched for a pair of girls with similar voices and builds who could split the opening scene with Puck, with one's voice fading and the other's voice building in the midst of a line. They learned to move in ways that would mirror, compliment, or balance one another. Their robins-egg blue costumes, including feathers in their hair, cemented their twinship in case anyone had missed it. Periwinkle was played by a delightful pre-teen whose family is heavily involved in the local town theatre. I was so pleased to bring her in and see her work with the other girls as she found her character: soft and sweet, like her namesake flower. Raspberry wore a vibrant hues in the berry-into-plum range and brought an sweet-tart impish quality to the group. When we needed a fairy laugh, Raspberry delivered, providing a range anywhere between a light giggle to something nearing a cackle.

When it came time for the lullaby, we asked if any of the fairy-ladies would be comfortable with a solo, and Raspberry volunteered. We conferred with her, and she conferred with a music major friend of hers to compose a suitably haunting and lovely melody to match the rather unusual lyrics Shakespeare penned. She sang the verses as a solo, and taught the chorus to the rest of the fairies. As they finished singing each night, the final note lingered over the audience, casting a very real kind of magic that only music can.

For all the lady-fairies' costumes, we went with a very organic process. I chose almost entirely knit materials, so that we could leave all their garments unhemmed for a raw natural look without having to contend with overwhelming fraying. The knit materials also meant that the costumes didn't have to fit closely and could drape and flow and flutter as they moved. Three of the actresses wanted to make their own costumes, and I encouraged them to, as I knew it would relieve the seamstresses' work load, but even better, allow those actresses to make the character truly their own from start to finish. I discussed shapes and lines with them, and gave them some sketches and a stack of fabrics and let them play. To say I was pleased with their products would be something of an understatement. For the other five fairies and Titania, I set up one-on-one-on-one costuming sessions, where an actress and I went to a seamstress's home and discussed and draped until we found shapes we were all comfortable with. The seamstress safety-pinned things in place and took notes, and sewed them up in the day or two following the meeting, so as to have a clean workspace when the next costume consultation came along. It was an unusual but very tactile and fun process.
For the changeling boy, we needed to find a careful balance. He needed to be young enough to have an immediate "cute factor" but old enough to know what was going on and not need his hand held every second of the process. Again I brought in a contact from the town theatre, the eight-year-old brother of our Periwinkle actress. As the changeling is the son of an Indian follower of Titania's, we decided to put the changeling boy in a loosely South-Asian- inspired outfit, with a turban, blue foundation and heavy eyeliner. He definitely had the cute factor under control and delivered a charming and detailed performance.

As with his the fairy queen, we thought that Oberon would likely have more attendants than just the one (Puck) that is mentioned in the script. We added Bower (after the deep blue bower bird who collects shiny prizes to woo mates) In our show, Bower lured Mustardseed away for a romantic tryst, just moments after she promised to "stand sentinel" over Titania's sleep. Bower also helped Puck in the confusion and misdirection of the lovers as they stumble through the dark woods in the night. With Puck on one side of the stage and Bower on the other, both calling to the lovers, it is little wonder the befuddled humans gave up the chase.

The other male fairy we added was Verde, an energetic young man of small stature in vibrant tropical greens. We had fun adding moments where Puck could dump some of his less pleasant tasks on Verde. In the scene where Oberon sends Puck to fetch the magical flower, Verde is leaning against a rock munching an apple. Puck promises to "put a girdle 'round about the earth in forty minutes" and then sends Verde after the flower and promptly starts to eat Verde's apple. When Verde returns triumphant, and starts towards Oberon, Puck intercepts him, takes the flowers, returns the clean-picked apple core, and declares exultantly (around a mouthful of apple) that he has done his master's bidding. The male fairies added such a mischievous, deviant quality to the show, as they watched the lovers' quarrel, bickered amongst themselves, and taunted the female fairies.

With the male fairies, we wanted costuming that seemed a bit more human than their female counterparts so we put them in shirts and pants with a vest or jacket. Oberon, the "king of shadows," wore charcoal gray and navy in shades that shimmered and blended. A floor-length vest/cloak/thing swept behind him dramatically. I made a simple circlet in black, gray, silver, gold, and bronze beads and wires to affect a casual kingliness. The reason I opted for such a casual, simple look for Oberon is simple: his voice. Both scratchy and resonant, throaty and authoritative, his voice doesn't make sense in any sort of quantitative way. But the second we heard him speak at auditions, we knew he would rock the part. Add to that a truly unique face, a casual but confident way of moving, and good instincts for interaction, he was a perfect king of the fairies. I knew that with such a strong voice and presence, to give him an ornate or commanding costume would make him totally overwhelming.

All of the actors cast as male fairies had dark hair and tended towards shaggy hair and scruffy beards, both of which we encouraged. By encouraged, I mean that I forbade them to cut their hair or shave.

One notable exception to the scruffy beards of the male fairies was the young lady we cast to play Puck. Of the many capable audtioners, there really wasn't any question who ought to get the role. Her voice was high and clear. Her energy filled whatever room she was in. Her face was unlike any face I'd ever seen- a lovely mix of big feminine eyes and strong angular jaw. Add a willingness to play with short hair styles and extreme hair colors, and we had Puck. As we developed the look for Puck, we came to a few basic decisions. We tried her in the female fairy makeup, but didn't love it. We tried a hybrid of the female fairies' "albino" look and the male fairies' "fox" look, but that didn't work either. In the end, we did essentially the same "fox" look as we did on Oberon and his other followers. To spice it up though, the decision was made to dye her hair the color of a fluorescent tomato. We tied this in throughout by having the lights turn red, or at least pinkish, whenever Puck's magical mischief was afoot. And let me just say that bright red hair under bright red lights shines almost as brightly as the setting sun. As for Puck's actual costuming, I did up over a dozen sketches, but in the end, my co-director and I decided that we liked the idea of Puck almost blending in with the humans, or at least blending as much as a fluorescent-haired, fox faced fairy can. We put her in plaid trousers, a pinstriped shirt, a black jacket, and bare feet. The thought was that by almost blending in with the humans, she could "disappear" into a crowd without actually using magic to disappear. People see what they want to see.

Our goal with the two fairy groups was to be "equal but opposite." The females traveled in a large pack; the males as a small group of best friends. The girls retained a sense of formality in their court through more elegant clothing, social structure, and dialogue; the boys were more comfortable in the woods, very casual in garb, pose, and conversation. The ladies were light; the guys were dark. When they were in their two separate camps, there needed to be clear delineation, but when they came together at the end, they had to balance each other and fit together.

The fairies added a delightful aspect to the production. In some versions of "Midsummer," the fairies can feel weighed down or forced into some sort of ungainly characterization. By encouraging the actors to find their own characters, and to become real-life friends offstage, we achieved a carefree, exuberant, and decidedly supernatural ensemble. I knew from the start that the fairies would be the most wide-open and freeing part of the costuming. I had no idea that they would also be the most challenging aspect of the show to design and execute. In the end, I am beyond proud of how the fairies came out.

Photography in this entry by James Ratchford, Zachary Garber, and Molly Wilson

Beastmaster 3.0

2009-10-25T15:01:00.002-04:00

A new generation of Beasts

I have two handsome young nephews who come from out of state to spend chunks of time here with us periodically. One day I pulled them away from their Thomas the Tank Engine, I got out the Beast mask, and we had a fun little game/photoshoot. We all took turns wearing the mask and roaring at one another, even if the mask was quite sloppy on their smaller heads. It was a fun way to spend part of the afternoon, and fun photos like the one above will always be cherished for the warm memories they bring back.

The "Other" Rich Folk

2009-10-13T20:30:00.013-04:00

A Midsummer Night's Dream

While the lovers carried a third of the show, the other upper-class humans didn't have a lot of lines. Despite their lack of stage time, they were prominent members of society, and their roles were important to the plot. It was paramount that they have presence and be able to immediately convey who they were as individuals and as a class.

For Lord Theseus ("All hail! the LORD!" or at least, that's what he wanted us to believe) we found a sophomore who beautifully carried off the maturity, effortlessness, and confidence someone of his station should have. There was something stern, yet casual, about his bearing that made it clear this man was every bit as comfortable in the courtroom as he was in the forest with his hunting hounds.

In Egeus, we needed an angry, disapproving father, but we also wanted him to be a sympathetic character. We called on a group regular who had played Shylocke in "The Merchant of Venice" and MacDuff in "MacBeth" to bring the same sort of weight to the role.

Hipployta was an interesting role to cast. We found two actresses who seemed mature beyond their years, and as luck would have it, this show has a queen of the fairies and a queen of the humans. To make our jobs even easier, one requested a smaller role, so we plugged her in as Hippolyta, and she delivered with timeless charm, poise, and an undeniable queenliness.

For Philostrate, we could have put just about anybody in and they would have done fine. We didn't have to settle for just anybody. There was a group regular who had a certain elegance and class in her bearing, mixed with a quiet warmth that made her perfect for the role.

When it came time for costuming, we put both of the guys in borrowed tuxes, and called them done. When our Theseus brought in a gray jacket he thought might be fitting for the hunt scene towards the end, I told him go for it. (Who am I to disagree with The LORD?)

For Hippolyta, we followed the same formula as Hermia's peach dress. Table cloths and curtains, a basic dress pattern and some creativity, a shawl swapping out for a suit coat, and we had a queen on our hands.

Philostrate was another easy costuming project, as she wore the same size as my co-director's mother, who is heavily into theatre and historical reenactments. Philostrate may be the most historically accurate character of the show.

We also wanted to add a few servants to Theseus' house. Three young ladies came along who enthusiastically took on the challenge of bringing silent characters to life. At performance time there was no question who Hippolyta was conferring with: the temperamental wedding planner, the surly mistress of kitchens, and the lowly peon, torn between obeying the higher level servants.

All of the rich human characters worked together flawlessly to establish a mood, a superiority, and a sturdiness which allowed the mechanicals, and especially the fairies, their flamboyance. While never lacking in humor or intensity, they were the solid base which made the rest of the show sing. The fact that most of their scenes took place in front of a black curtain not only allowed, but commanded, their performances to shine. Their well established characters, strong expressions, and clarity of emotion drew the audience in and made them easy to identify with.

Photography in this entry by James Ratchfor, Zachary Garber, and Molly Wilson

The Lovers

2009-10-13T19:41:00.012-04:00

A Midsummer Night's Dream

When it came time to cast the humans, we were faced with a number of tough choices. With the four lovers, there was a particular challenge in that we needed not only chemistry within the couples, but we needed all four to be really strong and compatible with any of the other four. During various points in the show, just about any pairing in the group are close friends, and at other times, enemies. Both guys start out pursuing Hermia, but later spend time chasing Helena and shirking Hermia. In the beginning, the girls are best friends, but later, have a huge argument. We had an easy starting point: two of the group regulars were a married couple, and while we did consider other options, none of them had chemistry as good as theirs. So then it was a simpler matter to find the two more to make it work. At the end of casting, we had a perfect quartet. Where one was maybe weaker, another had strength. They balanced each other remarkably well.

Then one of our guys was faced with a scheduling conflict mandated by his major, and we were left with about a month to find a new guy, bring him in, teach him the lines, hope the chemistry still clicked, and put on a show. It took a few attempts, but we finally found him. He hadn't done a lot of acting before and was new to the group, but the first time we saw him read with the other three, we knew he was right. He wasn't the same as the guy who had left, but he brought his own strengths, his own spin on things, and the other three did a great job adjusting to bring him in flawlessly.

When it came to costuming, we had not only our Victorian-inspired era to guide us, but also several clues based on the characters, to guide us. For the girls, it was important that they be equal but opposite. They had grown up together, were presumably of similar social status, and would be exposed to the same fashions of the day. However, we gather that Helena is less flirty, more of a tomboy, and less pursued by the boys than Hermia. To that end, we put Hermia in a peach dress covered in white lace and ruffles and Helena in a more streamlined blue dress, with black trim, and only a little bit of lace.

For the guys, we just raided closets and second hand stores, finding suits for the main scenes. In the final scene, the wedding, they needed tuxes, so we just called up guys from the college choir and asked if we might borrow theirs. This was by far the simplest costuming of the show.

Helena's dress was an existing garment one of the other actresses owned. It didn't fit our Helena, but I was determined to make it work. I added a white blouse and black underskirt to give it a good foundation. I brought in the side seams, and added in the black lace trims and black facings. I did everything with large stitches that would be easy to remove at the end of the production to return the dress in its original condition.

Hermia's was quite another matter. Not only did we construct her dress from scratch, but we had an added challenge in that our actress was five months pregnant by the time performances came around. She told us at auditions, so we asked her to consult with her doctor. He said the activity of the role would be fine, and that she wouldn't be showing too terribly much. He was wrong. While she stayed perfectly healthy, and their baby girl is gorgeous and healthy, she was definitely a little rounder during performances than we had originally expected. We covered the bodice of her dress in frills and lace, including some hourglass shaped lines, coming to a point in the middle of her belly, serving to disguise her condition and slim her. It was successful. When people saw her out of costume in the days surrounding performances, they were startled to realize that actress as big as she had gotten could carry off a romantic lead so well.

Whether it was bickering or loving, shoving or snuggling, bringing dresses in or letting dresses out, losing an actor or gaining a new one, the lovers were a fantastic group to work with. Their scenes were fun to direct and a joy to watch.

Photography in this entry by James Ratchford, Zachary Garber, and Molly Wilson

The Sets of Venice... Or Italy, Anyway.

2009-10-13T17:09:00.008-04:00

Merchant, Part Deux

I've already given the background on my Artistic Direction in the Shakespeare Players' 2007 production of "The Merchant of Venice," in the entry about costuming, so I won't bore you with all that again.

When it came time for sets, we realized that the scenes were almost evenly split between scenes in the street in town, scenes at the heiress' estate, and scenes to be done in front of the curtain. We decided to make 3 large wall units, two of which were reversible, to accommodate both the city streets and the palatial home of Venice's most eligible bachelorette. For the city side of the walls, the director's mother and brothers did a half-beam stucco faux finish, and for Portia's house, the director and her brother did a marble faux finish. These finishes were ideal, as they were indefinitely reuse-able for the consistently budget-strapped Shakespeare Players.

There were two hinged wall units, so they were easy to rearrange. We did three basic layouts with the stucco sides: as the external corners of two building protruding from offstage on both sides, in a stairstep configuration along one side to imply two buildings butting up against one another, and with the front sides aligned, leaving a gap for a removable lintel to show the front door at the titular merchant's house.

The third wall unit was a flat 12 foot unit, in the marble finish, with an arched door in the middle. Whenever the marble side was visible, the walls were arranged in the same layout, with the door in the middle and the hinged units at the outside. The resulting "back wall" was 28 feet long and filled up the vast majority of our stage's width. The size and symmetry helped establish the grandiosity we were aiming for with Portia's house. The furniture within was swapped out between two arrangements to show different rooms within Portia's home- one was the room where she met suitors and presented them with a challenge to see if they would be a worthy mate. The other was an inner, more intimate chamber, and was much less formal.

I also painted six "tapestries" for the show. For the formal receiving room at Portia's house, we placed a set depicting male and female peafowl flanking the main door. This emphasized the obvious theme for that room: finding the right mate. For the less formal space in Portia's house, I painted the other four "tapestries" with pairs of birds: falcons, doves, storks, and pheasants, each of which carried symbolic importance in Shakespeare's day.

The final component of the set for "Merchant" was a backdrop. Rather than paint a specifically "Venice" scene, the director's father, various cast members, and I painted a more generic, more broadly useful, Italian mountainside town. We painted mountainous peninsulas coming in from both sides of the drop, to imply one of the many many Mediterranean inlets. We used bold turquoisey blues for the water and sky, various golds, greens and browns for the land, with gold, terra cotta, and ivory in the town . If you remember from the entry about the costuming of "Merchant," we used a similarly dichotomous color scheme there as well, putting the Jewish characters in turquoise, and the Italian characters in warm earth tones.

Perhaps one of the best known portions of the play is the test with which Portia presents her suitors. She shows them three "caskets," one of gold, one of silver, and one of lead. These boxes are referred to frequently throughout the show, and are important symbols for the whole production. During the last dress rehearsal, it came to light that the props master wasn't having any luck rounding up the boxes, or the articles they were to contain. I quickly became glad that I was done with sets and was down to a couple of accessories for the costumes. I spent that evening and the bulk of the next afternoon after work scouring town for suitable boxes and articles. Luckily, I found them, and if the paint was still drying when the curtain opened, the audience sure never knew.

Please note that the photos in this entry are from rehearsals and do not show completed sets or costumes.

Photography in this entry by James Ratchford.

Stencilmaker, Stencilmaker, Make me a Match!

2009-10-13T16:43:00.006-04:00

She Loves Me!

In 2008, one of my favorite families decided to put on a show. They went with something suitable for a small cast, of course. They chose the musical, "She Loves Me!" which is based on the same story as the vintage movie classic, "The Shop Around the Corner," and the Tom Hanks/Meg Ryan film, "You've Got Mail!" This version takes place in Maraczek's Parfumerie. (That is, the toiletries shop owned by Mr. Maraczek... Don't ask me. He's Polish and the store is French?) While they had enough people in the family to take the leads, they needed to bring in a few friends to help round out the cast, and I was one of the lucky ones to get tapped.

Other cast members took care of sets and costumes, so I got to focus on details. My favorite part was the chance to try my hand at stencil making. I did some research on Art Nouveau and Art Deco, the art movements relevant to the show's 1900-ish setting, and designed a logo for the store that seemed fitting and passed with the director's approval. From there I made a set of three stencils and used them on each of the clerks' stands and on the back wall over the door.

As with most of my first cracks at things, my first try at stencilling taught me a few things to do differently next time, but ultimately, I am really pleased with what my efforts brought to the set.

Cinderelly, Cinderelly! Night and Day it's Cinderelly!

2009-10-13T15:55:00.004-04:00

My First Theatrical Project Offstage

In 2003, the local town theatre took on Rodgers and Hammerstein's "Cinderella." I took on the backdrop. I started by researching lots of castles. When I came across Neuschwanstein Castle, in Germany, I fell in love, like so many others have. While it's still definitely recognizable to those who know their castles, I took some liberties. I changed the emblem and colors to match what was happening in the costumes.

We were going for a very literal story-book theme. The set plans included a large book shaped cutout surrounding the stage, and performances started with the cast frozen onstage as though part of an illustration. The fairy godmother entered and threw glitter across the stage, bringing us all to life. There were various moments throughout the show that tied back into the storybook theme. At the end of the show, the fairy godmother reappeared with her glitter, and we froze back into our illustration poses.

With all the storybook going on in the show, it was important to keep the backdrop just as animated and kid friendly as possible. I used highly saturated colors and simplified shapes: cotton candy clouds in pink and blue and yellow, triangular purple mountains, semicircular green hills, a chocolaty brown road weaving back to the castle, and bright red conical roofs all over the castle. We made sure to sponge blues and golds into all the parts of the backdrop we could, so that when the lights were amber (most of the time) it would glow with warm golden light, and when the lights were blue (the night sequences) it would seem to shimmer in shades of blue.

Being that we were performing in the local school's "gymatorium," I had the luxury of spreading the backdrop out on the gym floor to paint the castle. I worked on the backdrop over the course of a couple of weeks, mostly during the times I wasn't onstage during rehearsals. As performances neared, I drew in a few helpers. My mom did a lot of the sponge work, and a friend who was playing "Queen Charming(?)" helped with the mountains. In the final week or so, it was down to just the castle left to do, so I pulled a couple of late nights. I think I was there until 2 or 3 AM a couple of times, (I was a good kid in high school - 2 AM was late for me - see top photo.) In the end, I was quite tired but incredibly proud of the outcome.

Now, six years and five backdrops later, there are certainly things I would do differently, but it's still one of my favorites. Many's the time I've wished I could return to this full on fairytale land. And hey, considering it was my first backdrop, I'm still tremendously proud of it.

That One Time, When I Played Satan.

2009-10-13T14:30:00.009-04:00

Carleton Bainbridge

To be honest, I wasn't actually playing Satan... His name was Carleton Bainbridge, the villain of a spooftastic melodrama. The year was 2009. The show was the "Little Nell" dinner theatre. It followed the Dudley Dooright/Snidely Whiplash model, and I clearly wasn't the good guy.

The show spoofed melodramas liberally. The script called for the women's wigs to come askew, my fake mustache to fall off periodically, the doors to stick, the characters to forget lines and be prompted by offstage voices, the punches in the fist fight to swing a foot wide, and so on and so on. Along with being a melodrama, the show was themed around the showboats which used to ply the Mississippi, which featured musical numbers, comedians, and various other talents between the acts of the main show.

There was a large family involved in the 'Tween Acts. The father was our "River Boat Captain." The mother, their four daughters and two sons were all invloved in the songs and joke telling. The kids were great, especially the two young boys. They were exactly what you would expect of a pair of farmer's sons, talking about dirt bikes and tractors and running around the dining room/audience with entirely too much energy, except when the time came for me to do my makeup. They would just sit and watch. Chatter sure, but they sat still and watched. Their mom wasn't complaining. I was baffled, but complimented.
For one portion of the 'Tween Acts," I sang "In the Merry Month of May." For those unfamiliar with the song, it's a cheesy little love song about spotting a lovely lady in the park and starting up a flirtation. Despite my character makeup, I sang as sweetly as I could. After going through the song once, I pulled a reluctant volunteer from the audience, gave her a rose, and commanded (back in character for a moment) that she and the rest of the audience should sing along for a second rendition of the song while I twirled her around the stage.

The show was very silly and very fun. Just what we needed in the middle of a long Western New York winter.

I did mention I was evil, right?

Bali Ha'i Will Call You

2009-10-13T13:58:00.004-04:00

Tattoo artist on the High Seas

In 2008, the local town theatre performed Rodgers and Hammerstein's "South Pacific," or as I affectionately referred to it, SPac. SPac is my favorite onomatopoeia. For this production, the director had the sets and costumes covered from the outset. That meant that come performances, the only thing requiring my time other than helping folks with their makeup was providing tattoos for some of the sailors.

The lead sailor, Luther Billis ("Whatchu talkin' 'bout, Billis?") played by a friend of mine, is supposed to have a huge collection of tattoos, including a ship covering his belly. I also gave him a heart with a "Betty Sue" banner on his right bicep, an ode to his favorite actor. He got a Jolly Roger on his other bicep, an anchor on one calf, and a pin-up mermaid on his forearm.

My character was called "The Professor," presumably because none of the other sailors went to college. At least, I like to think of him as a know-it-all, starting most of his sentences with, "Well, Professor So-and-so always says..." When thinking what kind of tattoo "The Professor" would choose, I decided to go with a classic and pay homage to one of my favorites: Shakespeare. It was an interesting challenge drawing an upside-down portrait on my own forearm, but I am quite pleased with how it came out.

The director gave us lots of leeway to play with, so I added a little romantic tryst with one of the navy nurses, adjusted the Latin Billis coerces me to recite, and perpetually carried a pocket-sized copy of a classic novel in one pocket and a beer bottle in the other. Over all, it was a very lighthearted fun show.

Beastmaster 2.0

2009-10-11T14:54:00.005-04:00

It's a small, small world.

It's 2008. We're in the middle of our first makeup run for "A Midsummer Night's Dream." The college Campus Activities Board is hosting a Disney party in the student lounge.

We decide to take a half hour break and go live it up. I grab my brother's beast mask and gloves, grab his magical mirror, grab my cloak I made for another party, years prior.

When I arrived at the party, I discovered that many of my cast members had decided to rock the casbah as well. Various of the Midsummer fairies showed up as the mad hatter, the cheshire cat, and a very naughty Alice.

We enjoyed a couple quick rounds of Disney kareoke, munched some nibblies inspired by the films, and headed back, like the devoted thespians we are, to finish our makeup run.

March! March! March!

2009-10-11T14:30:00.005-04:00

We're all a bit mad here.

In 2007, a couple of friends contacted me one afternoon and told me that a friend of theirs was having a tea party for her birthday party that evening. It was quickly decided that there were few occasions in this life where one will be invited to a tea party, and that one ought to grab hold of such opportunities when they come along.

Subsequently, it was decided that the logical way to grab hold of this opportunity would be to make it the maddest tea party on campus, in a very Lewis Carroll kind of way. I made a few phone calls, borrowed a felt top hat, a smoking jacket, a pleated blue skirt and an apron. I nicked a lightweight cardboard box and a wire coat hanger to make some ears. I borrowed an eyeliner pencil from one of the girls. In a matter of hours, we transformed ourselves into the Mad Hatter, the March Hare, and of course, Alice herself.

The birthday girl received us warmly. The party was a blast, but wound down quickly, as most of the responsible students present departed to write papers and study for exams... Exams? Who does that kind of thing? Anyhow, we decided to take our show on the road, visiting a couple of the dorms and the student center lounge, posing for pictures all along the way. Photos of us started popping up all over facebook, posted by people I don't know. Sometimes the most impromptu costumes can be the most fun.

A Midsummer Night's Dream

2009-10-10T22:46:00.018-04:00

My Directorial Debut

During the break between the matinee and evening performances of "The Merchant of Venice," in the fall of 2007, a friend of mine, Molly, asked if I might be interested in co-directing the following semester. Having just come through one of the busiest 2 or 3 week periods of my life getting "Merchant" ready for performances, I was somewhat less than enthused, and told her so. However, we came to my place for a meal, I pulled out my Complete Works of Shakespeare, and we skimmed through some of the comedies. In talking about the prospect, we both got so excited about directing, it became clear that we would be putting in a bid. We were torn between "The Merry Wives of Windsor" and "A Midsummer Night's Dream." Both her dance background and my penchant for color and somewhat larger-than-life design pointed us towards Midsummer. So I did up some sketches, we plotted our ideas, we considered the group's budget, and at the end-of-the-semester meeting, we presented our bid. It went through, and we had Christmas break to do any preliminary work and planning we could to prepare ourselves for auditions.

Auditions went amazingly well, and our cast fell comfortably into place. We had exactly the right number of auditioners for the parts, except for wanting two more fairies in the fairy chorus. I was able to pull in friends of mine to fill those spots. But for every single one of the speaking parts, there was an actor who nailed the audition. Call backs were a breeze; we were absolutely thrilled with most of our appointments, and were down to two actors who had both rocked the same two parts, so we had them read again, and we had the lovers come in one more time to double check the chemistry.

For the most part, Molly and I decided to split the tasks associated with directing. Her theatre experience was almost entirely onstage, while I had a mix of on- and off-stage and was eager to deepen and broaden my base of offstage experience. So she was the primary director as far as actors were concerned, while I put my efforts into the design work. I spent a huge portion of that semester emailing volunteers, setting up times when a seamstress, an actor, and I were all available to meet, and so forth. I went to rehearsals more often than not, and at the end of the evening, Molly would ask about what had gone on with the visuals in the past day or two. We both offered each other our two cents on just about every issue, but ultimately, we trusted each other enough to take care of our separate fields. That said, I am extremely proud of some of the ideas I had for the actors that played out really well in the performances, as well as simple physical things like showing one of the "guys" how to pick up one of the girls or showing fairies how to romp and play with the changeling boy.

We worked from a theme of layers. We felt that the story split nicely into thirds, and we approached costuming, directing, and sets in thirds. There were the rich humans (the lovers and their elder counterparts) the mechanicals, and the fairies. Our set was in 3 layers: the fairy realm in the back, the mechanicals in the middle, and the upper-class humans in the front. We also decided to go with Victorian-inspired costuming on our human cast, giving them layers of textiles in costumes that covered their necks, had long sleeves, and hems at the floor. This fit well with the themes in the lovers' plot. The restrictions of convention, the formality, the way they had to cover genuine emotion in order to be acceptable in proper company were echoed perfectly in the Victorian-esque garb.

The mechanicals wore of a sort of generic peasant garb, not as layered or starched or restrictive as the costumes of the richer folk, but certainly not as flowy or loose as the fairies. This to us showed the more genuine emotions and the much freer expression of the lower class folks, as well as their closeness to the natural world, and the supernatural, rather than determining to live in human constructs of the upper class.

Our fairy cast was costumed in ways that revealed a bit more flesh. Their costumes were still layered, but much less structured, favoring drapes and folds and tucks over pleats and frills and hems. As much as possible we avoided strong straight edges, and let the materials flow.

For the most part, makeup on the human characters was very straight forward. One of the only challenges was reminding the makeup artists that while they had been trained to do makeup for larger theatres, we were working in a much more intimate auditorium (under 400 capacity) so their details could be much finer than what they were accustomed to. We did have four character to age, and used basic techniques for that. We also had three ladies playing males, so I gave myself an on-the-job crash course on that. Two of them got beards, which aside from being time consuming to apply, did a whole lot of the work for us. On the third gender transformation, our actress was playing a beardless young man, so I really got to work with contouring; highlighting the jaw, broadening the nose, as well as the thicker brows like those I had done on the other girls playing guys.

The fairies were a whole different barrel of monkeys. I decided early on that I wanted the female fairies to be "albino" so we purchased several white-blond wigs and a couple of cakes of "geisha" foundation. On the day of the initial makeup consultations, about three weeks in advance of performances, we did broad color washes and occasional streaks in colors coordinating with the individual fairy's costume. As time progressed, and the actresses took over their own makeup, I noticed that the color washes were becoming smaller and the streaks more prominent. I let them have their fun.

For the male fairies, I wanted to do something equally non-human with the makeup, but very different from the female fairies. I went with a fox inspired look. We started with an orangey brown foundation, added big bushy eyebrows, and drew the dark color from the brows down the sides of the nose. With eyeliner we did something of an exaggerated cat eye, to make the eyes seem more angled, and then we applied a fairly heavy coat of white shadow from lash to brow. It made for a very animalistic look. Once again, as the performances neared I saw the makeup changing, and as one might expect of boys in makeup, getting subtler. Except Oberon's, which kind of exploded. C'est la vie.

I kept our sets simple. The rich folk did their scenes in front of a black curtain, with chairs or benches added as needed. A pair of eight-foot-square wall panels and a pair of sawhorses implied a farm yard for the mechanicals. The fairies did their scenes in the magical forest of course. For the larger trees, we painted burlap in browns and greens, and then hung them in stylized tree shapes from the fly bars. Then we went to the river and collected oodles of the tall slender reeds which grow there. We put them in small buckets filled with sand and draped extra burlap around the buckets, and had some shrub-like growth under our canopy.

The simplicity of our sets and the amazingness of our lighting (I'll get to that in just a moment!) made for some of the best transitions I've seen in a small theatre. The play started when Peaseblossom emerged from a "thicket" on the main floor of the auditorium. She was dressed all in green and had been hiding behind a collection of potted plants in one corner of the audience since before the doors were opened to the audience. From inside the thicket, she lit her lantern to the gasps and giggles of the audience, and explored her way up the steps. As she came to the curtain, it opened for her onto a still dark stage. As she progressed towards the back wall of the stage, the bright lights of the fairy world slowly grew and more fairies danced in from the wings, their multi-hued fairy lights aglow. After a moment, the stately king and queen of the fairies entered from opposite sides, silhouetted against the reds and oranges and blues, and brought the fairies to their purpose. As though by magic, they called the burlap trees down from the sky. They danced the shrubs into place, and the king and queen, while the lights fell once more, called the curtains to close again, and the play began.

Throughout the show, we maintained the idea of the fairies controlling the physical world. They could, on occasion, be seen to be observing the pursuits of the lovers from behind the transparent trees. At times, a fairy's giggle could be heard during the mechanicals' rehearsals. Perhaps best of all though, were the scene changes. That's right, scene changes. A dim variation on the fairy lights would come up, and the fairies would dance and spin their way across, removing one set while leaving another in its place. My favorite part of the scene change each night was when Mustardseed came sprinting from the wings, grabbed the last chair mid-pirouette, and disappeared off the other side almost before you could register where the chair had gone.

While Molly and I are incredibly proud of this show, there was one other person without whose contributions the show would have flopped. Zachary Garber was our go-to guy. He knew about all of the technical aspects both Molly and I lacked. He was our lighting god. The only way to make burlap trees and buckets of sticks look amazing is with a talented lighting guy. A gobo makes all the difference in the world for a plain white drop. He knew how to program lights, and schedule them, and take our vague directions and make them reality... "Could it be a little... fairy-er?" we would ask, and he would make it a little fairy-er. He was also a huge help with construction, orchestrating things backstage, and photography. Huge thanks and kudos to Zachary.

Molly and I sat back and watched every night, scarcely able to believe that we had brought together this opulent show before us. We had been stretched, and grew. We had been given challenges, and met them. We were fulfilled and exhausted. We gave it our all and could not have been prouder. There is no event in my life that I can compare with the exultation I felt during each performance, and even now, almost two years later, when I think back on what we accomplished.

When we started seeing and hearing reviews around campus, I was flabbergasted. Every comment we heard was favorable. People enjoyed the action and the humor that we incorporated, and understood the dialogue (always a concern with Shakespeare, but one we hoped to adress through clear actions and expressions.) The most meaningful comments for me came from the college art faculty. One prof, known for his love of art, Shakespeare, theatre in general, and his harsh criticisms of all three, delivered a glowing review of what we had done with the visuals, and I was thrilled. Another response that meant a lot to me came from the woman in charge of the college's art acquisitions, who also complimented me and said she looked forward to seeing what I do in the future.

I would like to, one more time, thank the audience, my cast, my crew, and my co-director. Without every single one of you, this show could never have been all that it was. Thank you.

Photography in this entry by James Ratchford, Zachary Garber, and Molly Wilson

Bottom's Time with the Fairies

2009-10-10T21:42:00.007-04:00

A Midsummer Night's Dream

Perhaps in no other sequence than this can Puck's eternal prankishness be seen so clearly.

Our Puck pranced about, enjoying her handiwork perhaps a little too much. Prancing was a specialty of our Puck.

Our Titania, on the other hand, struggled a bit with keeping a straight face and being deeply in love with the donkey-headed boy. She performed magnificently. What else would one expect from a queen?

Our fairy chorus enjoyed this sequence tremendously, stealing Bottom's cane, taking turns wearing his hat, and blanching whenever Titania required them to meet any of Bottom's whims.

Once Puck had transformed Bottom back, she couldn't resist trying on the hat for size.

Photography in this entry by James Ratchford, Zachary Garber, and Molly Wilson

Pyramus and Thisbe, A Play Within a Play

2009-10-10T20:56:00.007-04:00

A Midsummer Night's Dream

For the mechanicals' skit, we opted to go with very simple additions to the costumes. The script afforded us the luxury of no set, so these simple additions fit well. We reasoned that this rough group of blue-collar workers had thrown their show together in less than a week, and to have anything too elaborate would seem out of place. This was convenient as it was gentle on the budget and easy to accomplish in the actor's brief prep time between townsfolk and their alter-egos.

Bottom, arrogant as ever, decided that all he needed to become Pyramus was a wooden sword.

Tom Snout went slightly further, attaching a mottled scrap of fabric to the sleeves of his jacket to represent a wall. Wall, appropriately, performed his monologue rather stiffly.

For Flute, I had the distinct pleasure of creating an atrocious yellow wig out of yarn, designed to be as utterly unconvincing as it could possibly be. A bit of red makeup sloppily applied about the lips and cheeks, a shawl, and a red and white floral skirt to go with the red and white tweed vest Flute had worn throughout, made a perfectly awful leading lady. Johanna, on par with the rest of her performance, wore the skirt with every bit of clumsiness and self deprecation you would expect from the seventeen year old boy she was portraying.

Robin Starveling played the moon, adding a silvery blue wrap, a "bush of thorns," a small lantern, and rather pitiful stuffed dog. Because of the gender-bending we had done, and the lines about the man in the moon in the moon's monologue, Heather had tremendous fun delivering lines like "and I, the... man in the moon do seem to be," with a blush and a curtsy.

Snug, terribly concerned about frightening the ladies in the audience donned a paper machet lion mask with polka-dot blush, a heart-shaped nose, and crayola-colored curls.

The skit proceeded with the group's customary cheesiness, including the flirtiest moon the world has ever known, the sweetest lion snarls you ever heard, an impressively high-pitched shriek from young Flute, and a completely over-the-top death scene from Bottom, who drew out his "Die... die... die... die... die" line with repeated prostrations and flailing spasms.

And yet, when it came time for Flute to take her life, the script required that she turn in a performance as moving as the rest of the skit had been ridiculous. Johanna did not disappoint.

These six tremendous performers took what could have been a real buzz-kill, a momentum-crusher, and brought it up to the level of the rest of the lively show.

Photography in this entry by James Ratchford, Zachary Garber, and Molly Wilson

The Mechanicals

2009-10-10T17:31:00.012-04:00

A Midsummer Night's Dream

When we cast the show, we knew there would have to be at least a few of our actresses taking on male roles. That's just the way the college's ratio works, and our group is no exception. The mechanicals are an acting troupe made up of blue collar workers from the village, and we opted to include some village women in the troupe. In the end, we cast four young women and two young men to play these six originally male characters.

For the nominal leader of the group, Quince, we cast a small wiry girl named Sharon, who brought a strength, a matter-of-fact-ness, and her bright eyes to the role. Once we dressed her in gray and added a goatee, she was just about there. She brought in a pair of glasses to wear at the tip of her nose, and the character was ready to go. It's amazing how one piece of costuming, or one accessory can bring the character to life.

When Johanna showed up to audition, none of the group regulars knew who she was. As a music major, she spent the vast majority of her time holed away in a practice room. However, it became immediately apparent that this girl could act! She was a strong contender for every role she read. For a while we had her plugged in as Helena, as Hermia, as Puck, before finally realizing that she was our perfect Flute. She brought an excellent adolescent insecurity to the role, as she, and her character, strove to be just as manly as they could muster. She used her voice to perfection, learning how to make it break and perfectly imitating the sound of a guy mimicking a girl's voice. Even with the added challenge of being a girl playing a guy cast as a girl, she managed to bring the dramatic intensity where needed, and the comedy everywhere else. The cast enjoyed some offstage humor as well, listening to Johanna deliver lines like, "I have a beard! ... coming." when explaining why she didn't think she should have to play the romantic lead in the skit.

Having decided to change the genders of a couple of the townsfolk we thought it would work beautifully for Bottom to be part of a love triangle. By the time performances rolled around, the love triangle was such a fun sub-plot, that some audience members were shocked to be reminded that there wasn't actually any dialogue on the subject.

Come production time, two burly townsmen were locked in a fight over a beautiful Robin Starveling, and in the end, there was really no question who had won her heart. Once again the cast got some humor the audience couldn't hope to... Many audience members didn't realize that Tom Snout had been played by a female. She had so fully invested herself in the walk, the voice, the flirtations. In the scene where Bottom's head was transformed into that of an ass, Starveling fainted, and our Tom Snout actress threw Starveling over her shoulder and carried her away from the gruesome sight. In dealing with the mechanicals, I learned the importance of giving the actors freedom to play.

As for the guys playing guys, there were just two. Snug, the quietest written character, was slow of thought and slow of speech, but utterly endearing. At first dismayed with the small size of his role, Joe, one of our group's regulars, soon realized how much presence he could have on stage by getting into character and remaining there, even when he didn't have any lines. It was with the mechanicals that I learned about, and encouraged the actors to work with, the impact that their actions could have between lines. The love triangle, Snug's slow and gentle personality, and Flute's reluctance were things alluded to in the script and emphasized by the actors that made the characters really come to life in a much more real way.

Perhaps the most memorable of the mechanicals, Bottom, whose head becomes that of an ass, whose braying voice woos the fairy queen, who proposes that he could play every role in the show, altering his voice for each, was the most difficult part for us to cast. He needed to be commanding, over the top, irritating, full of himself, and hopefully, someone we wouldn't mind working with. In the end we took a gamble on a freshman, and he fulfilled that list of requirements in a way that only he could. The audience loved him, and that is all that one can hope for in a comedic antagonistic buffoon.

In every other production of "A Midsummer Night's Dream" that I've seen, the mechanicals, save Bottom, were throw-aways. I was concerned going in that this third, perhaps the most purely comedic third of the show, would, like in other productions, fall flat. In the end though, these guys were a delight, and brought so much to the show.

Photography in this entry by James Ratchford, Zachary Garber, and Molly Wilson

Here comes the bride!

2009-10-08T18:29:00.004-04:00

After two funerals, a wedding?

(please excuse the low-res facebook photo)

Katie and Ian wanted a gorgeous November wedding, and of the weekends in November, the best option for them was the 1st. This meant that they had inadvertently scheduled their rehearsal for Halloween evening. What choice had they but to declare it a costume party? Their bridal party included a naughty lady cop (her jailbird hubby was in attendance), a massive demon with dreadlocks, and even me, standing in, dressed as a hippie. The bride and groom, however, opted for a classic: the undead. So in the half hour break between reception decorating time and rehearsal time, they donned their thrift shop dress and tux, and I applied a quick coat of sunken flesh-themed makeup. I'm not sure what the chapel coordinator had expected, but that sure wasn't it.

The next day, they chiseled off their makeup, and made a striking couple for a somewhat more lively wedding.

Bethiboo and Tico Freako...

2009-10-08T17:19:00.009-04:00

My first time playing florist...

When my dear friends Beth and Gabe were getting married, they did everything in their power to keep things cost-effective. Beth was paying for the wedding, and as a full-time student, that made low cost a top priority. To that end, they tapped all of their skilled friends. A friend of theirs, Jason Hewitt, is a professional photographer, and lent his talents. Another friend made their wedding cake. The bride's parents hosted the event in a rented tent in their back yard.

Knowing that I am into a wide variety of artistic pursuits, Beth asked me if I had ever done wedding flowers. I told her my experience with flowers basically extended to bouquets from mom's garden for the dining room table. She said that was more than she had, and asked me to be her florist. More than a little daunted, I agreed.

A tomboy, Beth usually wears jeans, t-shirts, sweaters, lip rings, and accessories reminiscent of the 80's, so some of us were quite curious to see what she would come up with. She chose a simple halter style dress with a triple stripe of subtle sparkle highlighting the bodice and hemline.

She put her girls in a bright blue and chose flowers in shades of pink, red, yellow, orange, and white, keeping consistent with her bright, punk-infused style. She also encouraged her ladies to bring their personal styles to bear, giving them options of which dress style they preferred, and having me customize each bouquet. While each girl had all of the colors in her bouquet, some preferred more orange, or more pink, and I did my best to be accommodating.

Gabe's best man was another close friend of mine, Ian, whose wedding I later did flowers for... while posing for pictures with his best man (above) the groom's boutonniere met with untimely demise.

Photography in this entry by Jason Hewitt

When 900 years old you reach, look as good you will not.

2009-10-07T11:44:00.007-04:00

My first time with aging makeup.

In 2006, I participated in the Houghton College Shakespeare Player's production of "As You Like It." I was a friend of the director, so I thought I had a pretty decent chance of getting a good role. (Hey, that's how it works in a student-run group.) And then at auditions, as I was reading one of the scenes for the lead, this tiny little background character jumped at me. His name was Adam, he was in his nineties, and he had an attitude. He also had stage time in about 4 scenes, with a total of around a dozen lines. I told the director I would rather play Adam than the romantic lead, by far. And when the cast list came out, I got Adam.

I figured out a new talk, higher than my natural, and scratchy and shaky. I taught myself how to shake and twitch. I learned to walk on a walking stick, more than just slightly hunched over. I became a slow-moving, decrepit, wheezy, belligerent old man. Friends who came to see the show didn't recognize me. And at curtain call, when I came out to the hoots and hollers of the crowd, I knew I had nailed it.

I also had a lot of fun creating the look for Adam. I figured out the best way to do aging makeup for the character, in our small auditorium. I had some experience adding crows' feet and darkening smile lines. This project required a whole lot more than that. I shaded my nose to make it more prominent, I shadowed in my eyes, to make them seem sunken. I added some subtle crepe-ing on the cheeks to remove any hint of a healthy glow. I even smeared dark makeup along the tendons and knuckles of my hands and bare feet. I have refined and re-used these same basic makeup techniques on many occasions since, some of which will surely show up on this blog.

I also bleached my hair for this show. A friend of mine (visible in the picture above; she later went on to play Puck in "A Midsummer Night's Dream," when I co-directed) wore her hair bleachy white, and I figured that would help my character along... How wrong I was. Well, to be fair, it did make the white cream stuff they put in my hair for performances that much more effective. But if you look at pictures of me from before this show and then pictures of me after this show, you can clearly see that my hair has never forgiven me. But then, if you saw my dad's shiny head, you would know it's only a matter of time anyway. I think I just accelerated it.

A Plague on Both Their Houses.

2009-10-06T17:04:00.018-04:00

When I fell in love with cards.

In 2005, the local town theatre departed from their usual musical productions and had a meeting with the bard. We took on his most well known play, "Romeo and Juliet." The director was concerned about our rural audience being able to follow the story and created a construct to make the relationships easier to follow. She decided to introduce a playing cards theme. The Montagues were represented by the Spades, and wore blue. The Capulets were Hearts, in red. The royal family was in Diamonds, of course, and wore gold. The servant class were the Clubs, and wore neutral colors. The suits were reflected in hemlines and necklines where possible, and in "tattoos" on the foreheads of the men and cheeks of the women.

To introduce the card theme, as well as the fated, star-crossed lover idea, one of my best friends played the narrator as a gypsy fortune teller. With a deck of cards in hand, she started the show.

We used a quite bare stage for this production, uncommon for the group, and used several eight-foot-tall playing cards to delineate space and define different settings. And of course, I made the cards up as portraits of the actors. (I only wish they had told me what their costuming plans were before I got started... oh well.) In scenes at the Capulet household, we put up the portraits/cards of Juliet and her parents. When we were in the town commons, we put out the highest card we'd made in each suit. During some interpretive dance moments throughout the show, we put out the Montagues on one side and the Capulets on the other (see top photo). When the time came to visit the graveyard towards the end of the show, we turned all the cards around to their reverse, and scattered them around as massive tombstones, through which the crowd could meander on their way to the Capulet monument. The reverse of the cards could also be seen throughout the show on the backdrop (as seen in the top picture).

I also had the opportunity to play Mercutio, one of Shakespeare's best loved comedians. He was a blast to play. I curled my hair, I wore bright orange, and I was never onstage without a bottle. Playing someone so loud and over-the-top, and completely contrary to my natural state was a learning and growing experience for me. I think the young lady who played Tybalt enjoyed killing me/Mercutio a whole lot more than I enjoyed dying. Death scenes are not my cup of tea.

I also learned a lot about cards. Before this show, I had seldom played cards, and knew nothing about their history. It was amazing to research the history of cards, and see how the different suits had developed through the years, through different geographic regions, and so on. This show began an ongoing fixation with cards, fueled by rereading classics like "Alice in Wonderland," and has even led me to work on creating my own deck of hand painted cards, which I'm sure I will post once I have something ready to present.

Photography in this entry by Bradley Gayford

The Merch Boy

2009-10-05T21:00:00.015-04:00

My first time heading up designs

In the spring of 2007, a friend of mine was elected to co-direct the college's student-run Shakespeare Players' fall production. She immediately asked if I was interested in helping out with sets and/or costuming, and I said sure. I became the official Artistic Director for the production.

She and her co-director decided to do "The Merchant of Venice," which features a conflict between a Jewish merchant and a Venetian merchant. One of the show's main themes is racism, as Jews were considered second-class citizens in Shakespeare's day. To make this theme easier to spot, the directors decided to do a dichotomous color scheme. We put the Venetians in reds, greens, browns, and golds, and the Jews in turquoisey blue and deep brown.

Because the directors were elected and the show selected the semester prior to performances, I had the entire summer to work the sales at the fabric stores. I lucked out several times, getting expensive home dec fabrics for less than half of their original price. I also discovered that while many people breeze past the clearance sections in fabric stores, assuming the worst, a lot of the time, those fabrics are beautiful, and if not ideal for real life, will translate perfectly for stage.

Through this project, which turned out to be a much grander undertaking than I had initially realized, I met a huge crowd of talented volunteers. It was always so rewarding to hand off a stack of fabrics, sizes, sketches, and have them come back a week later as a gorgeous costume.

One of our best seamstresses was a professor's wife, a recent import from England who rattled along in her lovely thick accent almost too fast for your ears to follow. Luckily for me, she sewed just as fast. She made all of the doublets and vests, and came back asking for more. Each time she brought me something new, she asked if there was anything else. In the end, I just gave her my wish list, things I really hadn't ever thought would happen, but I knew would add just the right touch. She managed to cross all but one of those items off the list. We wouldn't have had the same show without her.

One of the plot lines of the show includes many a suitor coming in and trying to woo a rich Italian heiress. They all fail, of course, so that our young, noble, down-on-his-luck protagonist can sweep her off her feet and she can provide the means to save him from the evil Jew's clutches.

The group enjoyed the fact that all of the suitors were played by females (such is the gender ratio at the college) though they all rose to the challenge admirably, the Prince of Morocco, (who the directors took some artistic liberties with, giving him a more Arabian- type aesthetic) played by Miss Vilmary Lopez, stole the show with her grand posturing and bravado. Two of our seamstresses even got to make cameos as harem girls, a title they proudly bear to this day.

This show was a huge learning experience for me, about working time lines, working with and organizing and delegating a large crew, communicating with those working above me as well as those below. I learned lessons about budgets, schedules, mass emails, sewing, and perhaps most importantly, people. This show, overwhelming and hectic as it felt at times, was hugely rewarding and ultimately, the only reason I got into directing, and for this, I am truly grateful.

Photography in this entry by James Ratchford

Beastmaster

2009-10-05T20:15:00.013-04:00

My first taste of costuming.

In 2006, as a senior in highschool, my brother Dave auditioned for and landed the role of the Beast in "Disney's Beauty and the Beast" at his school. He had the build to overpower, the voice to woo, and a roar to clinch the deal. The whole family was tremendously proud of him.

When we heard about their plans for his mask, mom and I decided that we could do better. Mom sewed all his clothes, and did the sewing necessary on the mask, gloves, and feet.

I made the mask from scratch, using plastic canvas and heavy duty wire for the base, vinyl for his nose and horns, faux fur on the brow and back of the ears, 3 kinds of yarn and hair harvested from 2 wigs and twine for that thick mane, felt inside the ears, and lightweight work gloves and a pair of "slipper-socks" for obvious uses.

The show, and Dave, were a huge hit. At the first performance, a matinee for the elementary students in the district and the residents of a local nursing home, in the opening sequence, the beast let out a roar... Something to do with the narrator saying "For who could ever learn to love...[dun-dun-DUNNN] a beast," I think. I know I probably shouldn't feel this way, but I took a perverse pleasure from the screams of the little kids. My brother rocked. He was a celebrity amongst the little ones, and a big man on campus with his classmates.

And after all his hard work and general awesome-ness, he didn't get to kiss the girl. When it was time for the transformation back to human, he disappeared under the stage, and one of the chorusboys popped out and did his best to deliver a finale up to par with Dave's performance.

In addition to being a great show for Dave, this was my first real taste of costuming, and I haven't stopped since.