Showing posts with label props. Show all posts
Showing posts with label props. Show all posts

Wednesday, August 27, 2008

The Importance of Being British

Posted by Bruce Miller
One of the things that make producing a show like Shirley Valentine such fun for me is the chance to dip my toes in the waters of another culture. Shirley is a very British play. Too bad I didn’t have the sense I should have had after so many years of toe dipping. Had I been smart, I would have recruited a “British consultant” to advise us on all aspects of the production. But I wasn’t and I didn’t. Consequently, I received this very nice and constructive (and slightly embarrassing) note from a friend of our theatre.

In the end, I think this correspondence is informative, very positive, and kinda fun. So I’ll share the constructive note first, and then our responses.

Here's the nice constructive note...

Dear Barksdale,

I saw the performance of Shirley Valentine last night at Hanover Tavern and while the acting was quite good, the set and prop designs were completely inappropriate. I understand designers and directors often reset plays in different eras than the action was originally set---Shakespeare in modern dress etc.--but the presence of a bottle of Fairy Liquid and a couple of boxes of Weetabix led me to assume the action was indeed still supposed to be set in an English kitchen.

Apart from those props, however, everything else was completely wrong for an English kitchen--from the huge refrigerator to the curtains, cabinets, faucets, and even a cookie!!! jar. The English do not eat cookies; they eat biscuits. It may be nit-picking, but even the color of Shirley's passport was wrong. While it is true that today's passports are a burgundy color, in Shirley's time it would have been navy blue.

And no respectable English person-of-the-period would serve ketchup with egg and chips--it has to be HP Brown Sauce--in a bottle of course!.

I am a subscriber to Barksdale Theater and both my husband and I have really enjoyed all the plays at Willow Lawn. I understand you work with a tight budget, but a little more effort at authenticity would have been appropriate.

But then again, being English myself, maybe I am the only one who noticed these things and the only one who was bothered by them.

Sincerely,

xxxxx

Here's the first response from Jessica Daugherty, our webmaster who receives all emails first and lives in New Zealand…

Dear Ms. xxxxx,

Thank you for taking the time to write. I currently work from New Zealand and have learned some of the things you spoke about while living over here, where they also use slim refrigerators and say biscuits instead of cookies. I'm sorry you were disappointed with the set and props, but glad that you still enjoyed the acting.

I'm forwarding your message on to our Artistic Director, Bruce Miller, so that he can see your comments.

Kind Regards,
Jessica Daugherty
Internet Services
Theatre IV and Barksdale Theatre

And now here's the response from me…

Dear Ms. xxxxx,

Thanks for your support of Barksdale Theatre, your thoughtful letter, and your valuable constructive criticism. May I keep your name and contact info on file to use as a "British consultant" in the future? Your points are all very well taken, and I appreciate the constructive input. We certainly could use your help.

All the matters you mention regarding inaccuracies in our depiction of Shirley Valentine's home and its contents relate to my responsibilities. I manage props, furniture and set decoration for all Hanover Tavern shows. I did a fair amount of research for Shirley, but clearly not enough.

Regarding the appliances, I contacted Biasco - The Kitchen Specialists, a major English wholesaler and retailer of refrigerators and washers. I asked them what brand of mid- to low-price refrigerator and washer would have been installed in a British flat in the 1950s, about the time we imagined Shirley's 1985 kitchen to have been constructed. Among the brand names they suggested as meeting that criteria were a Frigidaire refrigerator and a Bendix washer. Our Tech Director for Hanover Tavern, David Powers, searched for, found and purchased a 1950s Frigidaire refrigerator and a 1950s Bendix washer. The refrigerator is small by contemporary American standards and appears to be the same size as the refrigerator used in the West End production of Shirley Valentine. The script says only that the refrigerator must have a built-in freezer and this one does.

I'm glad you noticed the Fairy Liquid and Weetabix. The Fairy Liquid was a generous loan from a friend of our director, Amy Berlin. I bought the Weetabix along with every other British-seeming grocery item I could find at Ukrops. Several of the other pantry stuffers (King Arthur Flour, Old London Melta Toast, Wellington Toasted Sesame Crisps) were less visible on the set but nonetheless there. We had British beer in the fridge, purchased from Total Wine and Beverage. We re-covered the Biz laundry detergent box (too American) with blow-ups of the British detergent logos for Daz. We printed can labels for Harry Ramsden's Mushy Peas and Batchelors Bigga Marrowfat Processed Peas (the most mid-80s British-looking labels I could find on the Internet) and covered over the Food Club labels that were too recognizable, too American and too 21st century. These counterfeit cans were among the items that filled the shelves.

Regarding the condiments to accompany the chips, I went to Icons-A Portrait of England online (http://www.icons.org.uk/), and found this: "Who can bear the thought of the perfect, soft-centred chip without a generous splash of malt vinegar to provide an extra burst of flavour? No self-respecting chippy is without the obligatory bottle of malt vinegar on the counter, along with salt and perhaps tomato ketchup." So I purchased a jar of malt vinegar and replaced the American-looking label with a computer-generated mock-up of the authentic British label (London Pub Malt Vinegar). When Shirley served her "chucky eggs and chips," she salted them first and then placed glass bottles of London Pub Malt Vinegar and Heinz Ketchup (that's the brand all the British grocery sites carry) on the table with the chips, in keeping with the instructions found on icons.org.uk.

Regarding the cookie jar, you got me! That was sheer stupidity on my part. I know better and appreciate the constructive criticism.

Regarding the British Passport, I Google Imaged "British passport 1985," and literally every photo of a British passport that appears on the Internet in response to that search shows a burgundy passport with the gold British crest. All the U. S. passports from that period are navy blue. So I photocopied the burgundy passport cover with gold British crest, did away with the words "European Union," and applied the forged cover over my mother's navy blue U. S. passport from the 80s. I'm sorry my research on passport color and appearance wasn't exact enough.

My research indicated that British Airways was the most likely carrier to transport Shirley from London to Greece, so I found some vintage photos online and created the fairly authentic British Airways ticket you saw in the show.

Curtain fabrics, window treatments, cabinet and faucet design are the work of our set designers, Terrie Powers and David Powers. They tell me that the curtain fabric and treatment were inspired by "Ironing Hopes in a British Kitchen," a Flickr photo found via Google Images online after searching for "British kitchen." The cabinets and faucets were modeled after images found on BritishFlats.com.

All of this is meant to show that there was a significant "effort at authenticity" even if the results of those efforts didn't pay off. In the end, the lesson I need to learn is that all the Internet research in the world can't replace the input we can receive from someone who actually lived there.

Thanks again for your support of Barksdale and for your excellent input. We'll try to do better in the future.

All the Best,

Bruce Miller
Artistic Director
Barksdale Theatre

Note: There were two sets in Shirley Valentine, occupying opposite sides of a turntable. The first was Shirley's tiny British kitchen, the second was a Greek Island cliffside adjacent to the surf. Both are pictured above.

--Bruce Miller

Friday, January 4, 2008

The Turkey Who Came Out from the Cold

Posted by Bruce Miller

Under the headline Refridgerator Refresher Course, there was a helpful household article a couple weeks back on the opening page of MSN.com. Who knew you were required to dust your condenser coils every two months—more if you have pets? I thought you dusted the coils every time your wife painted the kitchen and you had to pull the fridge away from the wall.

This, my friends, is why I’m not known as a handyman.

There were also helpful tips as to the best places in the fridge to store certain food items so as to avoid spoilage. For example, did you know to close the humidity vent on your fruit drawer and open the vent on your vegetable crisper because trapped moisture causes fruit to spoil more quickly but keeps vegetables fresher longer? Finally, a reason to know that tomatoes are a fruit and not a vegetable.

The article also said to “never keep eggs in the door of your fridge”—something I’ve been doing since I was old enough to know what an egg was. Which came first, the chicken or the egg or the salmonella?

All this sage advice prompted me to recall how invaluable are the theatrical services of Jason Weinbarger, one of Richmond’s most loyal theatre artists. Several years ago, Theatre IV was producing Having Our Say by Emily Mann in the historic Empire Theatre. Having Our Say is a lovely family drama about the first hundred years of the real life Delany sisters. Jason was brought in for a very special assignment.

In this wonderful play, the sisters have each passed their 100th birthdays. They had lived prominent and remarkable lives that spanned the entire 20th Century, and in the play they recall over two hours of memories with only minimal time offstage.

The two amazing actors we hired for the show, Marie Goodman Hunter and Kweli Leapart, were certainly nowhere near their centenaries. Nonetheless, they were, as required, actresses of a certain age. For one hundred and twenty-some minutes, the two of them filled the stage with wonder, recounting story after story while simultaneously setting a formal dining table and preparing a sumptuous dinner. Since they were the only two actors in the play, memorizing all those lines while mastering all that activity was in no way an easy assignment.

So we hired Jason to be a prompter, to sit off-stage in a soundproof booth, watch the show on a closed circuit monitor, follow the script, and prompt the ladies, if needed, through a wireless earphone that each of them was wearing. Jason is a remarkably kind and supportive man, and he was the perfect person for the job.

There was one scene in which Marie had to retrieve from the refridgerator all the food that she and Kweli would prepare during the upcoming scene, all the while recounting to the audience priceless memories from the Civil Rights Movement. To make life easier, we loaded the refridgerator before every performance so that the food items could be accessed in the proper order. I won’t pretend to remember the exact sequence, but for the sake of the story, let’s say that the potatoes came first, then the celery, then the carrots, then the cabbage, and finally the turkey. We loaded the refridgerator so that everything came out in that order.

For some reason we’ll never know, from the first day of rehearsal, Marie always wanted to go for the turkey first, which was not an easy thing to do. She had to reshuffle all those vegetables before she could get to the turkey, but on some days, in front of a live audience, that’s what she felt compelled to do. And when she did, it presented a few challenges.

There were specific lines having to do with that turkey, and other earlier lines having to do with the potatoes, celery, carrots and cabbage. If you pulled the food out of the fridge in the wrong order, then the lines also tended to arrive out of order. When that happened, God help us all.

One day I was walking backstage during the show, just checking to see if everything was running smoothly. I walked by Jason’s offstage booth, and through the door I heard a muted but firm voice talking into Marie’s earphone. “Marie,” Jason implored, “don’t go for the turkey. Pick up the potatoes, Marie. Marie, the potatoes! Not the celery, no ... Don't touch the cabbage, Marie! Go back to the potatoes!! (beat) MARIE, STEP AWAY FROM THE TURKEY!!!”

I had visions of poor Marie standing on stage jerking involuntarily in response to the demon voices we were piping into her head. But when I listened to the stage action with my other ear, no, she was just chatting pleasantly with the audience, determined to truss that turkey first and then deal with the potatoes later. I don’t think the audience had a clue that anything was amiss.

Today, as Terrie and I prepare holiday meals, it’s not uncommon for one of us to blurt out to the other, “STEP AWAY FROM THE TURKEY!!!” I’ve also heard it once or twice after I whined too much about an Opening Night that hadn’t gone as well as I’d hoped.

It’s an ongoing tribute to Jason and Marie—a Refridgerator Refresher Course that I’ll always remember.

--Bruce Miller

Sunday, August 19, 2007

"Odd Couple" Closes Flush with Laughs

Posted by Bruce Miller

We closed The Odd Couple today to a sold-out house, a theatre full of laughter, and a standing ovation. Congratulations and thanks to all involved.

We had three shows running simultaneously this summer--a first for us. Into the Woods, Disney's High School Musical and The Odd Couple. All three shows were hits, with lots of sold out performances. All three ended on a high note.

As soon as the house lights came up after Odd Couple curtain call, Joe Pabst (the director) and I scurried onto the stage to begin collecting the props we had lent to the production. As soon as the audience cleared, Jeff Clevenger (Speed), Jennifer Frank (Gwendolyn Pigeon) and Dave Bridgewater (Oscar Madison) joined us. Seems that over the years we’ve all learned the same valuable lesson. When you lend a prop to a show, be sure to claim it immediately after the final curtain call, or expect never to see it again.
Somewhere there’s a black hole that contains all the props that are routinely sucked into it approximately 60 minutes after each show ends. These props are destined to remain missing forever. It’s one of the laws of stage physics. I guarantee you that anyone who comes looking for props tomorrow will walk away empty handed. I’ve never figured out where the props go, but they go somewhere. And they go very quickly.

Jeannie Kilgore, who’s been subbing for stage manager Joseph Papa this week, warned me that one of the tin coffee mugs went missing in action this week, before the show even closed. It seems that Scott threw it down the hall one night, as Felix is supposed to, midway through Act II. The mug has never been heard from since. Seems Scotty’s got a great pitching arm. And the black hole was waiting, like a catcher, just offstage, behind home plate. Go Red Sox!

Jeannie also apologized for her faux pas during last night’s curtain speech, dutifully performed by Phil Whiteway. Phil and his family headed off to Nags Head today. Since he knew he’d be missing the final performance, he attended last night to personally thank our outstanding cast and crew.

Whenever Phil shows up at the theatre, he feels honor bound to make a curtain speech. God bless him for it. I HATE making curtain speeches, and more times than not, I ignore my responsibilities (opportunities?) and remain silent. Phil is far more responsible than I. He knows that making curtain speeches is an important component of our efforts to raise funds and sell tickets. So he selflessly mounts the stage, time after time, exercising due diligence for himself and also for me.

Anyway, as his pre-show welcoming speech was drawing to a close, Jeannie Kilgore was pushing buttons in the booth, preparing for the first sound cue (pre-show music) that she intended to start as soon as Phil finished. But, Jeannie, as I said earlier, is only filling in for Joseph Papa, and didn’t know exactly which button was which. So just as Phil was on his last two or three sentences, Jeannie hit the button that started a particularly loud rendition of the second sound cue—a exuberant toilet flush coming from off stage right. Phil apparently played it to the hilt and graciously allowed himself to be flushed off stage. The audience laughed uproariously. Jeannie was mortified.

At least we now know how to end Phil’s curtain speeches and still get a robust first laugh for the show.

Thanks again to everyone who made The Odd Couple such a hit. You couldn’t have been more Odd, and we appreciate it.

--Bruce Miller

Saturday, July 7, 2007

Arms and the Giantess

Ah, Picasso's Guernica. My second most favorite painting in the world. Ever since it appeared on the cover of my high school Sunday School book in the late 60s, I've been bowled over by this mural. And once, when it was on tour to the U. S., I had a chance to see it at MOMA live and in person. It was incredible--huge and devastating--a perfect depiction of the chaos and suffering of senseless, meaningless war. Violence visiting unannounced.

When we first started talking about the lady giant's arm in Into the Woods, Guernica is the image that popped into my head, specifically the lower left corner of this majestic painting. But Robin Arthur, our brilliant director, was far wiser than me, and wanted not a surrealistic arm, but a realistic one.

One that would take lots of time and money to make.

I’m writing this blog entry to correct a misperception brought about by the questions of a fellow scribe (one whom I respect mightily, by the by). While sorting through his thoughts on Into the Woods on his wonderful blog, he speculates that he’s seen the giantess’s arm from Act II of I the W in a past Theatre IV production!

After receiving my fourth or fifth guess as to which Theatre IV production featured said appendage, I want to set the record straight and put the guessing game to rest. Every inch of the arm is brand new. It was made specifically for this production of Into the Woods by the same guys who build props for GWAR. And it cost about the same as a 1990s Accord with 150,000 miles on it—dare I say an arm and a leg.

After spending all that money, I want to squelch the rumor that this pivotal prop is nothing more than some odd bit of brachial detritus pulled from a dusty bin of leftovers from shows gone by. I confess that I didn’t want to spend the money—partly cause I’m cheap and partly because the arm languishes for such a short time on stage. But Robin really wanted a realistic three-dimensional arm, and in the end, Robin won. I may be cheap, but I’m not stupid. Robin has a mean left hook.

Anyway, to the left and above are pictures of the hand part of the arm, before the arm itself was stuffed and costumed. The real arm looks much better than the photo, so that's why I led off this posting with a Picasso.

I guess I should have listed the arm’s credits in the playbill, so that everyone could see that she was making her Richmond stage debut.

If anyone would like to buy her after the show’s over, I’m open to offers. Otherwise I’ll have to see what I can get for her as a trade-in.

--Bruce Miller

Wednesday, July 4, 2007

Propping Up "The Odd Couple"

How nice it was to see a prop gain attention in Susan Haubenstock’s rave review of The Odd Couple, now playing at Barksdale Hanover Tavern. “Terrie Powers and David Powers provide the shabby Manhattan apartment set, with the requisite swinging door to the kitchen,” Haubenstock comments in the Times-Dispatch. “There’s even an A&P grocery bag for authenticity.”

Well, actually there are three, sitting jauntily upstage center as the curtain rises (if we had a curtain), filled with authentic-looking garbage from the mid-60s. Judging from his rubbish, Oscar Madison has a bit of a sweet tooth (Junior Mints, Little Debbie Snack Cakes) and limited cooking ambitions (lots of crushed Campbell’s Soup cans, Lays chips bags, and empty egg cartons). He also seems to enjoy the occasional drink.

But what about those A&P bags? I decided to go directly to the source—the brother/sister design team of Terrie and David Powers.

“Actually they’re Ukrop’s bags,” confessed Terrie, “but I turned them inside out, removed the paper handles, ironed them, and then glued vintage A&P logos onto each bag. Including the staining (I wanted each bag to look like it had been there for a while, so I ‘painted’ grease stains onto the appropriate places), the three bags took me about five hours.”

“I didn’t know at first what grocery chains would be appropriate for mid-60s Manhattan, so I went on-line to research grocery trends during that period. I learned that A&P was a market leader in Manhattan throughout the mid- and late-60s. And when I researched A&P logos, I eventually found the 1964 logo that we’re using. Luck was with me. The vintage logo is red, orange and yellow (the one pictured above is slightly newer and all red). The orange and yellow worked perfectly because those colors and shades are in sync with the color palette I’m using throughout the set.”

“I transferred the logo onto Picasa, the image system I use on my computer, and blew it up to the correct size, adjusting the colors to be sure they didn’t fade as the image enlarged. I then printed the logos, cut them out and adhered them to each bag.”

“The part I hadn’t counted on was how wrinkled the bags would become as I turned them inside out. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t flip them without the wrinkles. So that’s when I decided to iron the bags, mainly so that the logos would adhere properly. With just a little bit of steam, the ironing worked perfectly. After gluing the logos on, I ironed them too, until they really conformed to the bags’ surface.”

As producers, we’re so appreciative of the hard work of our props staff. Our directors and casts need no “propping up,” but our productions do. Jay Dempsey’s props for Into the Woods, and Terrie’s props for The Odd Couple and the upcoming Disney’s High School Musical, show just how much can be achieved by going the extra mile.

When you go to The Odd Couple, take a minute to notice the 1964 Manhattan White Pages that sits on the downstage phone table. That was about a 6-hour project, and it’s authentic in its appearance, complete with cover ads for the New York World’s Fair.

See you at the theatre!

--Bruce Miller