In which our heroines decide that velcro might indeed be the answer...

EWH and I had a wonderful little conversation this morning re: Crave and the costuming-experiment I have launched myself into. The problem: how to put these strips of fabric onto this slip in a way in which they can, quickly and easily, be ripped off (and then restored for the next show).  My original idea worked but lent itself more to the "slowly removed and less strips" school of thought rather than the "more. faster. better." one.

So, I started again.  My two options: snaps or velcro.  Now, velcro is used for children and quick changes and is an absolute last resort.  EWH and I both think this way.  I spent all last night trying to justify the use of snaps over velcro to myself.

As EWH and I ping-ponged strategies back and forth, turning the mannequin round and round, it became very clear that small pieces of velcro would be the most effective and best solution.  "I think velcro is the way to go, and you will never hear me say that again!" - EWH.

I rationalized that velcro is what you do for quick changes, and this is just one, extended onstage quick change.

Side note: this particular costume is going to come with a manual.  Expect diagrams.

Failing better

Since last time:

I made thirty children into lords and ladies.
I took many pictures of that process, and never posted them.  There was going to be an epic slideshow.
I have been navigating my way round the greyish world of Sarah Kane.
I will be trailblazing a look called "Tesla Punk" in April.
I solidified some serious puppet time for May and June and couldn't be more excited.

Rather than completely recap, I'm just going to start from where I am.  I am waiting for water to boil so I can dye some elastic yellow.  So I can start wrapping this silk dress in silk strips, which will be ripped off of C. I've been attempting to tackle this "problem" of my costume design for the past forty-eight hours.  My previous solution was just to sleep.  That is no longer an option.  I have a deadline for this test run.

I know I have a tendency to bite off more than I can chew, but I wonder about the practicality of my ideas this time.  I find myself wondering, Can I pull this off?  I know I can.  I just wonder how many times I have to fail before I get the product I want.

Here's to a night of failing.  And then failing better.

(I believe there will be a sequel to this post very soon...)

"Dance, dance, otherwise we are lost."

Tonight, I sat in a movie theater and witnessed some of the most dynamic, thrilling, moving, and striking dance theater of my life.  Pina 3D: best sixteen dollars I have spent in a very long time. I usually walk out of an experience like that with one of two feelings: invigorated and ready to make art, or lost, bemoaning my life choices and what I have done so far.  I made a conscious decision as the credits appeared over the final clips of Pina Bausch's dance company: react differently.

At Bennington, I used the word "legacy" to describe my intentions and what was driving my work.  Learning my legacy: who came before me, the giants upon whose shoulders I was lucky enough to stand, things like that.  I used to list many great people, but in retrospect, I think my "legacy" begins with two men -- Gene Kelly and James Joyce.  A hoofer and a self-exiled Irish writer.  The precision of their work both inspires and empowers me. It affects me on an almost primal level, like there is a string knotted behind my womb that the two of them can pull on at will.

I have not thought about or immersed myself in any of Joyce or Kelly's work since I graduated.  There was a week or so in April or May in which I absolutely inundated myself with Gene (and a little Fred and Ginger.)  And the entirety of my last year was colored by Joyce and his words.  I bring this all up for one reason:  I have been feeling very ungrounded lately, and I think re-immersion might be a way to plant my feet back on the ground.

Pina's legacy astounds me.  (I admit I only know what I just saw.)  But, I saw the legacy she left with her company, how she changed them and their movement.  I want that.

I'm sure a normal reaction to that movie is as follows:  I want to be a dancer!  No, but really... I want to be a dancer. I want to reconnect with the one thing that I've felt missing from my life for the past eight years.  I gave up dance for theater, and simply, I think I want it back.

This is all just introspection and reflection.  I think both my copy of Portrait of the Artist and my tap shoes have been gathering dust long enough.

The Working Space

I said I was going to bed.  Inevitably, this means doing something other than sleeping.  In this case, it is posting.  EWH and I are both in the throws of costuming two completely different worlds. She is elbow deep in Churchill's world of Fen, and I have a dragon's brood of princes and princesses creeping up my arms with Once Upon a Mattress.  Our apartment is an interesting juxtaposition of colors, fabric choices, and such at the moment.

The view from my sewing machine into the world of FEN

EWH's POV

I swear this looks a lot cooler in real life (and more chaotic) in real life.

My Personal Call Board

Upon graduating from Bennington, I found myself constantly wondering how I was going to be an actor.  I would chew my nails, grind my teeth, and lose sleep over all those questions that go with being an actor: Am I good enough?  Will I ever even go to auditions?  Am I good enough?  How do I find said auditions without an agent?  Do I need an agent?  Am I good enough? I can't afford an agent!  Will I ever find the perfect monologue? Am I good enough?  Am I brave enough to go to auditions, and then just continue with my life and my work, regardless of the outcome?

Add to that deluge of insecurities the confusion over how to be a costumer as well, and you've got me in a nutshell.  Is there a way to pursue both?  How do I make sure I don't get locked into one line of work, and then miss opportunities in the other?

(((--- Honesty time -- I was also worried that I'd just be too damn scared to go to any audition. Ever. --)))

Since moving to Boston, I've been to 3 auditions.  Tonight marked my fourth.  When I moved, I set a goal for myself: three auditions by the December.  I didn't know if it was going to be possible.  One sort of fell into my lap, and from then on, with the help of friends with Stagesource accounts, I did it.  Three auditions in three months.  I got my headshots out there, and while no roles have resulted from my auditioning (yet!) I am still very proud of myself.

I now have a Stagesource account of my own and a new goal: 5 auditions between December 1 and June 30, as well as an application to the Sandglass Theater's Summer Puppet intensive.  One down, four and an application more to go!

I still haven't found the perfect monologue, and I think I will always wonder if I'm good enough.  However, I will not fret.  I do have a trick up my sleeve, thanks to a friend.

At that first audition, I was sitting with him, blathering on about how I wasn't Asian enough and that I was too young for the part.  He listened for maybe three words before shushing me, fixing me with a very sincere stage, and said, "You are exactly what they are looking for.  You have to walk in there believing that."  Since then, I walk into an audition with one thought: I am exactly what you are looking for.  One day, I will be.  Until then, I just do my best, have a blast, and come home to a treat.  Tonight, it's chocolate decadence cake from the DPH and a DIY facial.

I love auditioning.

Six months out

On Sunday, I closed my first show as costume designer in Boston: Not-a-Box New Play Festival with GAN-e-meed Theater Project.  It was a very good experience (seriously) and I was proud of the work I did.  I think that's the most important part, that I'm proud of the work I did. I met a whole bunch of wonderful, talented people.  And got another gig out of it.

Yesterday, I had my first production meeting for Stoneham's the young co production of Once Upon a Mattress.  Short and sweet -- I'm excited to delve into that project.

On Monday, I have an audition for Play About the Baby.

I did some thinking on Monday or Tuesday night.  I moved to Boston in September. I've been working consistently (both part-time and in theater) ever since.  By the end of the season, I'll have worked on --as designer or wardrobe-- six shows.  That's six runs.  That's work for an entire season.  I'll have been theatrically employed for the entire first theater season I spent in Boston.

I get breathless just thinking about it.  I don't know if I expected to be hunting for work on my hands and knees, or what... but I can't quite believe it.  The wonderful thing about all this is that I'm proud of the work I have done and excited about the upcoming shows.  I know that I am incredibly lucky to be able to say all this.  In the same breath, I know I've worked incredibly hard to get here.  I like that work pays off.  But I also like that I must continue to work hard in order to ensure more work.

It's funny... at Bennington, we called all of our projects and things to do our "work."  In that sense, I feel like I should be leaving the Dining Hall to go finish my work: MY WORK-- my artistically driven endeavors that, combined, represent my reality.  "My work," usually synonymous with "my blood, sweat, and tears."

I am so thankful and amazed that about six months out of undergrad, my work is now my life.  

Tales of Tech: Play by Play

Twas the night before load-in, and all through the house
Kinch was sewing and making like a crazed little mouse...

Anyways.  Worked for 10 hours and still didn't finish everything: finished enough for the fittings though, which I guess was the important part.  Here's a chronicle of those 10 hours:

Ready for Battle

2:42 PM: Maybe 20% of the way there for Not A Box.  But I’m ready for the ensuing battle.  Loading in tomorrow at 10:30 AM.  There may be very little sleep between points A and B, but I’ll get there. I will.

3:19 PM: Neon pink fabric paint vomited on my hands.  Jaquard Textile Paints were the best and worst discovery I made senior year.  Now, to the tea dying.

4:37 PM: Lovely phone conversation with Oee while making a tiara.  Tiara half done!

6:08 PM: How is it 6:08 PM?!

7:01 PM: Regency bodice, done! Yay! Now, to finish painting, and then skirt-problems.  Always skirt problems.

7:54 PM: Same tasks as before, only to the sweet sounds of Boondock Saints.  Yay guilty pleasure movies! The Departed is totally next.

9:41 PM: Skirt on, ZIPPER TIME! Achilles tendon burning from squatting while painting. Waiting for the paint to dry... still more to do! IT WAS A FIRE FIGHT!!!!!!

10:13 PM: I hate zippers. With a fiery passion. On to Moulin Rouge.  A singing Ewan McGregor will ease my ire.

11:08 PM: Phone call with MEEAH and hat draping.  I’m getting sleepy....

12:51 AM: Hat draping... eh.  Tiara, 90%. Regency Era dress, 80% -- fittable.  Reversible wrap dress, 30%. Need to finish this in the morning.  For now, four hours of sleep?