Laundry Room Letters: Part 1

RECOLLECTING THE RAFT

On the River

I spent my first six weeks in Boston traveling up and down the Mississippi with the cast of Big River. My travails didn’t quite include runaway slaves and deceptive “dukes” and “kings”; I just found myself trying to steer through a cast of twenty-one’s laundry, tame the fake breast of the Nonesuch, and just make sure that the drier actually dried the clothes. (We were in a permanent tiff, that machine and I. We never resolved our differences.) Now, after four weeks off the raft, I can say that I still miss it – sweaty costumes and all.

I couldn’t have asked for a better introduction to both Boston and professional theater. The cast and crew were warm and generous. To them I credit my lack of “I-want-to-go-back-to-college” pangs. Late laundry was met with “Oh, my pants are warm!” instead of impatience. I wasn’t ever craving hugs; and if I wanted one, they were freely given. I was able to pick the brains of the actors to try and build a vague understanding of the inner workings of the theater business. All in all, I learned more than I could have hoped for in the course of working that show. 

Putting on Kami's wig

Being the wardrobe supervisor isn’t the most glamorous job, but it’s a really good entry-level position into a theater. I occupy the grey area between performer and techie, which means I get to know both groups of people. I’ve also found that if you prove yourself to be an efficient and collected worker, people tend to trust you when you declare yourself “good” at something else. I am good at wardrobe. My training as a house chair definitely prepared me for the flurry of activity backstage, the last minute button pop-offs, and suspender breakage.

 I had more suspenders break on this show than – oh, I don’t have anything to compare it too. I just had a lot of broken suspenders. My solution (devised in a 15 lapse of backstage action during the Wilkes funeral scenes): tie-line fasteners. Worked like a charm. Can you tell I was proud of that one?

 This recollection is long overdue, and my heart longs for the cast and crew. Boys, we sure` did elegant.