Costumes

Pardon me while I start off on a bit of a rant... not too much, just a minor treatise on the creative process and the surest way to either align or alienate yourself from other creative people.

First of all, I like to think of myself as a craftsperson: someone who creates things that are usually pleasing, interesting, intriguing to others, using skills that I have learned and honed through practice. Everything I do can be done by anyone else on the planet, and the delta between the results is usually only the difference in the amount of time we've spent in honing the skills used in creating the work.

In regards to theatre, I'm easily embarrassed, and polite but usually quite dismissive when people praise my work. In all honesty, I'm actually annoyed by it most of the time. Now before you go in search of a sharp object to deflate my ingratiate ego, let me explain. I REALLY don't see myself as an artist. There are people with whom I align myself who are VASTLY more talented (as a craftsperson or artist) than I.

Cases in point: the Charlotte's Web music director, John Gaston is exceptionally gifted and talented, and I am thrilled to have the chance to work with him and pick up on how he does what he does so well; fellow castmate Jeff Raum is a talented muralist and make-up artist, in addition to his performance talents; Todd Weldon (Nuncrackers, Deathtrap) has a remarkable voice and stage presence that I enjoy watching, and I can't wait for the chance to work with him. I know that by working with each of these people and aligning my talents with theirs, our collective products are truly greater than the sum of the parts, just as was suggested in my earlier post regarding the "message" of Godspell.

Great, but what does this have to do with costumes?

My vision for Godspell costumes is to have the costumes be basically cream-colored as their base, much as though the fabric had been hand woven by the character, as an extension of their skin and soul. I see lots of texture and depth, and I want to have the feel of borrowed decadence. This puts one foot firmly in the Commedia del'Arte arena. I want these people to look like they have just been pulled out of an old trunk and put on stage. The colors are faded. The fabrics are worn in places. But what comes through it is the message and the life energy of these people. And those costumes slowly whittle down to the most essential components of the characters.

And I want to start off with masks for the philosophers in Tower of Babble. Right now, I'm hoping for soft-sculpture masks, but that can take a LOT of time. There is a children's clay product produced by Binney Smith (the Crayola Crayon folks) that is very light but sturdy, and air dries, but I'm not sure how the finished product would hold up under weeks of abuse and sweat. We'll see. It's only a vision.

So what's the problem?

I can't find anyone who wants to help me work on it. Each costumer I've approached bristles at the notion of having to MAKE costumes. They'd rather go to buycostumes.com and, well, buy costumes. I'm not suggesting that we can't BUY components for the costumes, but these will need to be CRAFTED.

I work my ass off when I build sets. For Deathtrap, I spent well in excess of 60 hours building a custom antique desk, French doors, built-in buffet, working fireplace, and sliding barndoor. I loved getting my hands dusty and picking Tom's brain to see how we could most efficiently and effectively get everything done. And we did it. It's a great-looking show.

So why does this not carry over into my peers in regards to costumes? I don't know the answer, but it's frustrating. When I mentioned the vision to each of the potential costumers I spoke with, I got either a serious eye rolling, or a polite but pointed, "So, then who are you going to have build these costumes?", knowing full well that by sharing my vision with them that I was asking them to consider participation in the effort. No such luck. No nibbles. No interest.

So, THAT is the surest way to alienate yourself from creative people: to wrap yourself so firmly in the reality of how something CAN'T be done that you can't offer any approach to how something COULD be done. I'm guilty of it too. My wife tells me that I'm always too quick to say "No!" when she asks for something for one of her productions, and I try hard NOT to do that anymore.

So, I'll work up some costume design sketches and use those to show to potential helpers for the costume crew, and we'll see what we get. Maybe the best way to counter CAN'T is to stun them visually with COULD.

- Sean