…. and survives! [This blog has been a long time in coming….]
Well, actually, it turned out to be much simpler in the end.
So, my options for the Thanksgiving weekend were to go down to the Early Iron Symposium in Cooperstown with my husband and lurk around the smelters, and maybe help out with the food, which would have been totally okay, or stay at home and re-grout the shower.
Well, that’s what I thought they were, until I had an email forwarded from one of the project leaders for a Katimavik house in Orangeville, who was looking for a cook for the Orientation week.
[Katimavik is a Canadian Youth Volunteer program, for people 17 to 21. They give up a year of their life and travel around Canada, living as a group in their host communities, and working with varying non-profit partner organizations. While they’re in their group houses, they learn to cook and feed themselves, budget and shop, bake their own bread. Later in their three-month stay, they are billeted in with local families, and get to see another side of their “adopted” community. Then they move on to another three-month placement, somewhere else in Canada.]
Since the Orangeville group found a cook, their project leader suggested that the Shelburne House was still looking. Better and better, even closer to home!
And that’s where I ended up. Cooking meals for three days for a group of ten ‘kids’ (probably only kids to my ancient eyes, and certainly older than my teenagers from Twelfth Night!) and their project leader and myself.
The only tiny bump in the road is that one was lactose-intolerant, one was vegetarian, and one was “Vegan”. Ack! I hadn’t known too much about Veganism (if that’s a word) till I after I started researching it on the web. WOW! It can get pretty involved. To the point where you don’t shop till you read the labels. That was a bit scary.
I’ve dealt with vegetarians. My brother and his lady, and several close friends have been vegetarians. Plus I like to cook, and I like to research recipes, so for an occasional thing, it’s no problem at all.
Vegans, on the other hand, can be tricky.
In the long run, I was lucky. It turned out that my Vegan was really just someone who didn’t eat meat, especially ground meat, though occasionally chicken, preferred soymilk, and wasn’t too big on eggs. Not a “fine print” Vegan. But it’s far safer just saying Vegan, than having to try to explain. I fully understand.
But in the lead up, it meant I was spending a lot more time reading ingredient lists, in my pantry, and in the store, and realizing that a true, fine print Vegan up in my neighbourhood, would find it rough going!
And my group turned out to be quite nice, enthusiastic kids, fun to cook for. And I seemed to come up with enough interesting things to eat that everyone was happy, including myself.
Of course, because just planning, shopping & cooking for a dozen people who live a half hour away wasn’t enough “fun”, I had to have a psychotic moment, where for some reason, all of a sudden all I could smell in the vicinity of my geriatric Honda, Shawn of the Dead, was gasoline! I stepped out of the garage on the one day, to check on some plants, and I could smell gas. Up the drive to road? Gas. Around and inside my car? Gas.
Now Darrell had just recently fixed a leak in the gasoline somewhere…. Had it gone awry? Oh, Lordy. Here I was, on a long weekend, 13 km from the nearest town, one with no useful services, like car rentals or mechanics… Darrell and the truck in New York State. Most of the people I know at least an hour away, and probably doing their own Thanksgiving things… ARGH!
So, of course, Saturday night I did not sleep well!
Sunday I got up and drove the car over to a nearby bridge where there were at least a few feet of pavement, and I could leave the car running and peer underneath. And move the car and check for drips. (Living on bumpy rutted grassy gravel road allowances, does not make that an easy task!) Nothing seemed to be happening.
And as it turned out, I got to Shelburne, and Orangeville, quite happily the next two days. And worked my way through that tank of gas uneventfully, and am currently working through the next one. So, who knows? It was suggested that perhaps when my tank had been filled the day before the incident, some gas had got slopped… It seems that it had to be far more than just that, but whatever…. The Katimavikkers didn’t starve.
Sunday, October 23, 2005
Wednesday, September 21, 2005
cooking with anti-v : dill pickles
There, just for Karen!
Aha!
Dammit. In my usual lame-brained fashion, I was thinking of making some more pickles. I’m not out of them, I still have a jar and a half left from last year’s making, and I’d only made four jars anyway. But I’ve grown fresh dill this year, and I should harvest it and use it, and what better use for dill than dill pickles?
But, alas, I’m discovering, as I look at the recipe I was sure I’d used, that I must have combined this with another recipe. (I do that so much!) Because this recipe is a fermented pickle and uses no vinegar, and I’d not done a fermentation, but just poured my hot brine over the pickles and canned them. And I know I used vinegar. Sigh….
So, this recipe must have given me some proportions for a smaller batch and some suggestions for flavours, but I must have used another recipe to suggest method. Why do I never make notes?
And here I’d been urging Karen to try this recipe, and now I find it isn’t what I thought it was anyway. And it was so marvelously successful, whatever I’d done. Really, it’s the story of my life! You think I’d learn…
So, now I guess I need to have a quick peek in all my most likely sources, and see if there’s something that seems more familiar than not. Because I’ve got cukes and dill circling for a landing!
Okay, I think I’ve found the missing piece. (No wonder I rarely attempt large batches of this sort of thing. Until you know for certain the recipe is a good one, you hardly want forty gallons of something you can’t even give away. And then, when I actually come up with a champion recipe, do I write it down? Oh well. I was only going for a small batch again. So we’ll just have to cross our fingers. And what I’d found with my last lot, was that I could reboil the brine and refill the jar with more sliced cukes and get a second jar’s worth of refrigerator dills that were just as good! Which meant four jars equaled eight. I didn’t figure I could take it to another batch though. Not only would the sharp flavour start to drop off, at that point you start play with the acetic acid content, and I don’t know enough about the science and chemistry of pickling to want to play around with that…)
Okay. 95% chance that this is the actual Vandy-pickle recipe… And in a small quantity, just for Karen!
2 regular cukes. Washed and sliced on the bias.
Fresh dill.
Dried dill.
Mustard seed.
Garlic clove, peeled and squashed a bit. [Nothing wrong with even more garlic! Say 2 or 3 cloves! But at least 1 per jar.]
Take 2 1-quart mason jars. (I use the old glass topped ones for these. About the only thing other than dry storage or very short-term storage I’m comfortable using them for.) Sterilize. Pack with dill, dried spice, garlic clove and the cuke slices.
Boil up: 3 cups of white vinegar.
3 cups water
6 Tbsp. salt
with pickling spices.
Pour boiling (or near to boiling,) brine over cuke slices. Cap and seal. And process.
*NOTE: Because I make these in small batches (I actually do up four jars,) I’m not as paranoid about using the older jars, or processing till the cows come home. And once they’re opened, or in “round two”, they live in the fridge. I’ve heard that to make and sell pickles you have to take a course in the science of pickling, so obviously there are risks. But I feel that these are pretty simple, with both a high acid content and salt, so are fairly safe. I sterilize the jars before hand, and I do process them in a boiling bath. And I don’t expect them to actually be around long enough to become a mystery jar of strange fermented things…
While they probably would appreciate a longer pickling time, last year we broke open the first jar at the two-week mark because we couldn’t wait! They were great, though pretty “perky”. Even now, almost a year later, the most recent jar I’ve opened has still got bite, though I think it’s mellower.
So, I’ll try to remember to let you know if I did recreate the recipe, or a reasonable facsimile, but at the least, here’s a rough class in dill pickles 101. If nothing else, it should give a sense of proportions to use with any other recipe, so you have a small batch.
Another note: my antique jars are not totally identical in size. Some may be quart jars, some are a bit bigger, some a bit smaller. If I end up short of brine, I’ll make up another bit, note the ratio is 1cup:1cup:2tbsp for vinegar to water to salt.
(So that helps with the math.)
If I end up with a bit of brine leftover, like right now, I quickly scurry around the kitchen looking for some other little thing to pickle. Last time I had some mushrooms. I think I have a few this time as well. For the mushrooms I just add some peppercorns and maybe coriander seeds to the brine, just to change it a bit. But I don’t have to. It could also work with carrots, or cauliflower, or who knows?
Have fun.
Aha!
Dammit. In my usual lame-brained fashion, I was thinking of making some more pickles. I’m not out of them, I still have a jar and a half left from last year’s making, and I’d only made four jars anyway. But I’ve grown fresh dill this year, and I should harvest it and use it, and what better use for dill than dill pickles?
But, alas, I’m discovering, as I look at the recipe I was sure I’d used, that I must have combined this with another recipe. (I do that so much!) Because this recipe is a fermented pickle and uses no vinegar, and I’d not done a fermentation, but just poured my hot brine over the pickles and canned them. And I know I used vinegar. Sigh….
So, this recipe must have given me some proportions for a smaller batch and some suggestions for flavours, but I must have used another recipe to suggest method. Why do I never make notes?
And here I’d been urging Karen to try this recipe, and now I find it isn’t what I thought it was anyway. And it was so marvelously successful, whatever I’d done. Really, it’s the story of my life! You think I’d learn…
So, now I guess I need to have a quick peek in all my most likely sources, and see if there’s something that seems more familiar than not. Because I’ve got cukes and dill circling for a landing!
Okay, I think I’ve found the missing piece. (No wonder I rarely attempt large batches of this sort of thing. Until you know for certain the recipe is a good one, you hardly want forty gallons of something you can’t even give away. And then, when I actually come up with a champion recipe, do I write it down? Oh well. I was only going for a small batch again. So we’ll just have to cross our fingers. And what I’d found with my last lot, was that I could reboil the brine and refill the jar with more sliced cukes and get a second jar’s worth of refrigerator dills that were just as good! Which meant four jars equaled eight. I didn’t figure I could take it to another batch though. Not only would the sharp flavour start to drop off, at that point you start play with the acetic acid content, and I don’t know enough about the science and chemistry of pickling to want to play around with that…)
Okay. 95% chance that this is the actual Vandy-pickle recipe… And in a small quantity, just for Karen!
2 regular cukes. Washed and sliced on the bias.
Fresh dill.
Dried dill.
Mustard seed.
Garlic clove, peeled and squashed a bit. [Nothing wrong with even more garlic! Say 2 or 3 cloves! But at least 1 per jar.]
Take 2 1-quart mason jars. (I use the old glass topped ones for these. About the only thing other than dry storage or very short-term storage I’m comfortable using them for.) Sterilize. Pack with dill, dried spice, garlic clove and the cuke slices.
Boil up: 3 cups of white vinegar.
3 cups water
6 Tbsp. salt
with pickling spices.
Pour boiling (or near to boiling,) brine over cuke slices. Cap and seal. And process.
*NOTE: Because I make these in small batches (I actually do up four jars,) I’m not as paranoid about using the older jars, or processing till the cows come home. And once they’re opened, or in “round two”, they live in the fridge. I’ve heard that to make and sell pickles you have to take a course in the science of pickling, so obviously there are risks. But I feel that these are pretty simple, with both a high acid content and salt, so are fairly safe. I sterilize the jars before hand, and I do process them in a boiling bath. And I don’t expect them to actually be around long enough to become a mystery jar of strange fermented things…
While they probably would appreciate a longer pickling time, last year we broke open the first jar at the two-week mark because we couldn’t wait! They were great, though pretty “perky”. Even now, almost a year later, the most recent jar I’ve opened has still got bite, though I think it’s mellower.
So, I’ll try to remember to let you know if I did recreate the recipe, or a reasonable facsimile, but at the least, here’s a rough class in dill pickles 101. If nothing else, it should give a sense of proportions to use with any other recipe, so you have a small batch.
Another note: my antique jars are not totally identical in size. Some may be quart jars, some are a bit bigger, some a bit smaller. If I end up short of brine, I’ll make up another bit, note the ratio is 1cup:1cup:2tbsp for vinegar to water to salt.
(So that helps with the math.)
If I end up with a bit of brine leftover, like right now, I quickly scurry around the kitchen looking for some other little thing to pickle. Last time I had some mushrooms. I think I have a few this time as well. For the mushrooms I just add some peppercorns and maybe coriander seeds to the brine, just to change it a bit. But I don’t have to. It could also work with carrots, or cauliflower, or who knows?
Have fun.
Tuesday, September 20, 2005
Gifts of love....
I know, I should have taken a picture. I never remember the camera when there’s a sudden need. And if I plan to drag it out and along, then it never gets used.
Yes, Bear, one of my loving cats brought me an exciting gift yesterday. (Bear tends to bring me new pets and set them free for my enjoyment!) Yesterday’s special thoughtful present was a lovely little snake. (Urk!)
I was chatting on the phone with my mom in Manitoba, and heard the triumphant call of a cat with a gift, so we finished up the conversation and I went out to check. And there was proud Bear with his trophy, an intricately squiggled and coiled snake. I had a moment’s flurry of thought about what, on my side of the snake, could be used to put over top and trap him there. (Nothing worse than gifts roaming free and uncatchable!) I emptied out a plastic box of threads and sewing notions, and set it over top. Then I could more leisurely praise Bear and offer him better tasting treats.
After some careful maneuvering with a manila envelope and then the lid, I had the snake secure and took him out to show Darrell and set him free.
Actually, it was a very beautiful snake. At a safe distance. A young garter snake striped most exotically in rusty orange, with a glowing orange belly. (Underside?) I’ve only ever seen dull green and black garter snakes before. This one was lovely. At a distance. So we set him free in the front garden, and I watched him slither his way to a new life.
On a more enjoyable note, having decided that all my hummers have abandoned me, I switched that feeder for my sunflower one, in order to cement a relationship with all my potential wintry birds. And the chickadees and goldfinches have been having a good time. Then yesterday we had two woodpeckers show up again, and start a rat-a-tat on the side of the house. (While I could live without them pecking holes in the house, I’m glad to see them back. I think there was one of each, a Downy and a Hairy.) And several times yesterday, what I’m sure was Mrs. Rose-breasted Grosbeak was happily stuffing her face at the feeder…
This past year was the first that I’ve been putting out nyger seed as well as sunflower, and it did make all those little finch birds ecstatic. Birds are such cheap and satisfying pets. Though I often have qualms about appearing to be setting up an all-you-can-eat buffet for my cats. It’s time for my regular stern chat!
Yes, Bear, one of my loving cats brought me an exciting gift yesterday. (Bear tends to bring me new pets and set them free for my enjoyment!) Yesterday’s special thoughtful present was a lovely little snake. (Urk!)
I was chatting on the phone with my mom in Manitoba, and heard the triumphant call of a cat with a gift, so we finished up the conversation and I went out to check. And there was proud Bear with his trophy, an intricately squiggled and coiled snake. I had a moment’s flurry of thought about what, on my side of the snake, could be used to put over top and trap him there. (Nothing worse than gifts roaming free and uncatchable!) I emptied out a plastic box of threads and sewing notions, and set it over top. Then I could more leisurely praise Bear and offer him better tasting treats.
After some careful maneuvering with a manila envelope and then the lid, I had the snake secure and took him out to show Darrell and set him free.
Actually, it was a very beautiful snake. At a safe distance. A young garter snake striped most exotically in rusty orange, with a glowing orange belly. (Underside?) I’ve only ever seen dull green and black garter snakes before. This one was lovely. At a distance. So we set him free in the front garden, and I watched him slither his way to a new life.
On a more enjoyable note, having decided that all my hummers have abandoned me, I switched that feeder for my sunflower one, in order to cement a relationship with all my potential wintry birds. And the chickadees and goldfinches have been having a good time. Then yesterday we had two woodpeckers show up again, and start a rat-a-tat on the side of the house. (While I could live without them pecking holes in the house, I’m glad to see them back. I think there was one of each, a Downy and a Hairy.) And several times yesterday, what I’m sure was Mrs. Rose-breasted Grosbeak was happily stuffing her face at the feeder…
This past year was the first that I’ve been putting out nyger seed as well as sunflower, and it did make all those little finch birds ecstatic. Birds are such cheap and satisfying pets. Though I often have qualms about appearing to be setting up an all-you-can-eat buffet for my cats. It’s time for my regular stern chat!
Tuesday, September 13, 2005
Dingos ate my baby
Well, actually no, it’s “Teenagers Ate My Brain”. And really, I think it’s getting better!
I did find that after Twelfth Night, it was all I could do to hold a single thought in my head, and keep it organized. The aftermath week was a bit rough. Laundry didn’t require too much thinking, but I was also trying to plan for a camping trip on the long weekend. And instead of being able to call on auto-pilot for the planning, I was going to have to compile different gear than usual, that would pack into a much smaller vehicle.
Yes, since our boys had abandoned us to go to CanIRON V in Nova Scotia and smelt iron, Selena and I were going to load two (though somewhat reduced) camps into her Mazda Protégé, and do it ourselves! And much to our delight, it worked. (We’re very proud of ourselves. NOTE: this is NOT ordinary camping but a re-enactors’ event, so handy little dome tents would be sub-par!)
But we both ended up with a period tent, and a sunshade, and a kitchen space.
And then, last week, I met with the artistic director of the theatre, and we talked about further work. Except for the first and last shows of their season, where the costumes are already arranged for, he’s pretty much offered me the balance of the season! So I just have to decide if I can survive on “professional-lite” money.
And the Christmas show does have kids, but only a half dozen. Easy peasy, eh!
Right now, I’m having a domestic moment. I picked chokecherries yesterday. (There were still some the birds hadn’t got!) And right now I’m making some kind of apple chokecherry ‘squish’, also using apples from our trees. Of course, this is a bit experimental. I’ve not done much jelly-making before, and am morphing a handful or recipes, but if nothing else it’s made a wonderful perfume in my house!
I did find that after Twelfth Night, it was all I could do to hold a single thought in my head, and keep it organized. The aftermath week was a bit rough. Laundry didn’t require too much thinking, but I was also trying to plan for a camping trip on the long weekend. And instead of being able to call on auto-pilot for the planning, I was going to have to compile different gear than usual, that would pack into a much smaller vehicle.
Yes, since our boys had abandoned us to go to CanIRON V in Nova Scotia and smelt iron, Selena and I were going to load two (though somewhat reduced) camps into her Mazda Protégé, and do it ourselves! And much to our delight, it worked. (We’re very proud of ourselves. NOTE: this is NOT ordinary camping but a re-enactors’ event, so handy little dome tents would be sub-par!)
But we both ended up with a period tent, and a sunshade, and a kitchen space.
And then, last week, I met with the artistic director of the theatre, and we talked about further work. Except for the first and last shows of their season, where the costumes are already arranged for, he’s pretty much offered me the balance of the season! So I just have to decide if I can survive on “professional-lite” money.
And the Christmas show does have kids, but only a half dozen. Easy peasy, eh!
Right now, I’m having a domestic moment. I picked chokecherries yesterday. (There were still some the birds hadn’t got!) And right now I’m making some kind of apple chokecherry ‘squish’, also using apples from our trees. Of course, this is a bit experimental. I’ve not done much jelly-making before, and am morphing a handful or recipes, but if nothing else it’s made a wonderful perfume in my house!
Monday, August 29, 2005
all over but the crying...
Or was that the laundry...
Yup. Four hundred pounds of laundry, I’m guessing. I had a bit of a panic when it seemed like I was actually gathering up more washable items than I had containment for...but we prevailed.
Show is over. It was a bit weird, in that it was all either the opening performances (and the ensuing excitement) or closing performances (and the ensuing excitement.) There was never just a bit of normal run.
But on the whole, the kids were good. Some of them definitely have the potential to go on and be more than good. Certainly, they’ve shown they can learn. They now know what a hanger is. Next time we’ll work on the intricacies of perfect use!
Some of them were not only talented, but downright classy. And a couple of them really won my heart!
But BOY! Am I ever so glad I’m not a parent!!! I’m more than happy to give them up after a few weeks!
So, I’m about five or six loads into my clean up. I’ll have to shuffle the whole lot, minus my own stuff, back over to the theatre workshops this week. And still need to connect with the artistic director. Though we did have a few more hasty words after Friday night’s performance. He was quite impressed with the costumes on this one, and may be able to use me for some other shows during the season.
Not exactly a life-supporting career, but still enjoyable.
Mind you, there are FAR too many stairs in that theatre! I feel a wreck after all the upping and downing, especially with costumes and laundry and boxes of shoes and hats. And a couple of nights ago I tripped over a curb in the pitch black behind the building, and landed on knee and heels of hands, so my arms and shoulders are feeling a bit jarred, and my poor battered knee was being incredibly fragile yesterday. But then, things like that are always more painful on the second day. So here’s hoping for the third…
Back to the laundry.
Yup. Four hundred pounds of laundry, I’m guessing. I had a bit of a panic when it seemed like I was actually gathering up more washable items than I had containment for...but we prevailed.
Show is over. It was a bit weird, in that it was all either the opening performances (and the ensuing excitement) or closing performances (and the ensuing excitement.) There was never just a bit of normal run.
But on the whole, the kids were good. Some of them definitely have the potential to go on and be more than good. Certainly, they’ve shown they can learn. They now know what a hanger is. Next time we’ll work on the intricacies of perfect use!
Some of them were not only talented, but downright classy. And a couple of them really won my heart!
But BOY! Am I ever so glad I’m not a parent!!! I’m more than happy to give them up after a few weeks!
So, I’m about five or six loads into my clean up. I’ll have to shuffle the whole lot, minus my own stuff, back over to the theatre workshops this week. And still need to connect with the artistic director. Though we did have a few more hasty words after Friday night’s performance. He was quite impressed with the costumes on this one, and may be able to use me for some other shows during the season.
Not exactly a life-supporting career, but still enjoyable.
Mind you, there are FAR too many stairs in that theatre! I feel a wreck after all the upping and downing, especially with costumes and laundry and boxes of shoes and hats. And a couple of nights ago I tripped over a curb in the pitch black behind the building, and landed on knee and heels of hands, so my arms and shoulders are feeling a bit jarred, and my poor battered knee was being incredibly fragile yesterday. But then, things like that are always more painful on the second day. So here’s hoping for the third…
Back to the laundry.
Saturday, August 27, 2005
over the cliff, or all downhill from here
Well, there’s second opening night done with. Also a good show, with some real high points and moments of brilliance. Today, the chaos of a double show day, which are also coincidentally their closing shows. No chance of hitting a nice steady pace with this production, it’s nothing at all but ups and downs!
So the kids have learned what a hanger is, but not how to really use it, and have been rushed to become runway models split seconds after they leave the stage…Tonight I imagine they’ll be rushing to get off to cast parties. (And I was reading bios yesterday – our youngest is eleven! And our oldest, maybe, seventeen, with the bulk of them 13 and fourteen. Yet they polish up like they’ve been in the heart of Hollywood since birth!)
But after tonight’s show, everything just goes in laundry bags, or is put aside to go to the cleaners’ next week. So maybe NEXT time I can work on improving their life skills by showing them what a hanger can really do, if you let it!
I’m definitely getting a list of favourites. Some for their ability on the stage, some for their minute to minute charm. Then we have my personal albatross. Yes, the girl with the pants. The first pair didn’t fit at dress parade though they were okay at the fitting. I got a second pair and altered and dyed them, and she’s worn the first pair as much as the second. (well, they’re almost the same colour, maybe she can’t tell them apart?) [Sadly, the first pair are still the most flattering pair, on either actress, and match my desired look better. Sigh.]
Then she wanted to wear black nail polish for her role. We can’t get her to clip her hair back, even slightly, from her face, so she has a tendency to look a little bit like a bleached afghan dog, with just a nose poking out. Last night she had the most hideous makeup, but since they’re townspeople in that scene, I was willing to assume the possibility of a streetwalker in the crowd. And yet again, I had to talk her out of personal jewellry, so to compensate, she “adjusted” her costume more to her liking, loosening the skirt, so it looked like it might slither off her, and re-tailoring her blouse with a not-so-judicious elastic band taking it up into a knot in the back.
I turned a blind eye because the scene is such where they’re really just on and then off, with a flurry of loud and noisy action in between, and it wasn’t going to affect anything.
I feel guilty for chickening out, but she’s such a petulant surly creature, I couldn’t bear to try.
Of course, what’s scary is that she’ll probably make it as a star. That always seems to be the way things go. I suppose it would be easier to forgive if she were amazingly talented, but I don’t think those abilities have developed yet…
So the kids have learned what a hanger is, but not how to really use it, and have been rushed to become runway models split seconds after they leave the stage…Tonight I imagine they’ll be rushing to get off to cast parties. (And I was reading bios yesterday – our youngest is eleven! And our oldest, maybe, seventeen, with the bulk of them 13 and fourteen. Yet they polish up like they’ve been in the heart of Hollywood since birth!)
But after tonight’s show, everything just goes in laundry bags, or is put aside to go to the cleaners’ next week. So maybe NEXT time I can work on improving their life skills by showing them what a hanger can really do, if you let it!
I’m definitely getting a list of favourites. Some for their ability on the stage, some for their minute to minute charm. Then we have my personal albatross. Yes, the girl with the pants. The first pair didn’t fit at dress parade though they were okay at the fitting. I got a second pair and altered and dyed them, and she’s worn the first pair as much as the second. (well, they’re almost the same colour, maybe she can’t tell them apart?) [Sadly, the first pair are still the most flattering pair, on either actress, and match my desired look better. Sigh.]
Then she wanted to wear black nail polish for her role. We can’t get her to clip her hair back, even slightly, from her face, so she has a tendency to look a little bit like a bleached afghan dog, with just a nose poking out. Last night she had the most hideous makeup, but since they’re townspeople in that scene, I was willing to assume the possibility of a streetwalker in the crowd. And yet again, I had to talk her out of personal jewellry, so to compensate, she “adjusted” her costume more to her liking, loosening the skirt, so it looked like it might slither off her, and re-tailoring her blouse with a not-so-judicious elastic band taking it up into a knot in the back.
I turned a blind eye because the scene is such where they’re really just on and then off, with a flurry of loud and noisy action in between, and it wasn’t going to affect anything.
I feel guilty for chickening out, but she’s such a petulant surly creature, I couldn’t bear to try.
Of course, what’s scary is that she’ll probably make it as a star. That always seems to be the way things go. I suppose it would be easier to forgive if she were amazingly talented, but I don’t think those abilities have developed yet…
Friday, August 26, 2005
one down....
Well, Opening Night Number One is over! Tonight is Opening Night Number 2. (and then tomorrow, two closing performances… Okay, a bit weird…)
But it seemed to go well. The audience made noise. They laughed where we hoped they might.
I got compliments on the costumes. The Artistic Director wants to talk about some further work. Only a few notes to work on today…
What WAS wild and amazing was watching the cast of eejity teenagers who have at least learned what a hanger is, if not exactly how it is used, transform into Academy Award Red Carpet attendees within ten minutes of final curtain! Wearing chic little evening gowns and jewels and makeup… (Okay, there were some strange fashion choices: the little lime chiffon ruched strapless number, worn over the pink strapped bra…, but my gods, those kids clean up pretty!
But it seemed to go well. The audience made noise. They laughed where we hoped they might.
I got compliments on the costumes. The Artistic Director wants to talk about some further work. Only a few notes to work on today…
What WAS wild and amazing was watching the cast of eejity teenagers who have at least learned what a hanger is, if not exactly how it is used, transform into Academy Award Red Carpet attendees within ten minutes of final curtain! Wearing chic little evening gowns and jewels and makeup… (Okay, there were some strange fashion choices: the little lime chiffon ruched strapless number, worn over the pink strapped bra…, but my gods, those kids clean up pretty!
Thursday, August 25, 2005
Tonight's the night!
Well, the two dress rehearsals are over! And we survived. Three small costume notes: a button popped off a jacket sleeve, a snap needs moving, and a great looking dress where I’d made a bad fabric choice, has merely underlined my suspicions about the fabric, and needs a tiny repair.
And I need to get more heelgrips, and hair clips, and pick up better hangers for hanging up all the pants….
They’re not all of the dump-it-on-the-floor school, but it does seem that their expertise in using hangers leaves a bit to be desired. So I figured those hangers with clips might help all the pants stay a bit less crumpled looking!
Part of the problem, too, is that although the Opera House is a lovely little theatre space, it has only the two dressing rooms, and a minimal backstage space, and no greenroom at all, so there’s nowhere for the kids not on stage to go. (Maybe the Mayor would surrender his office, which is directly below…..) But it does mean that there are more bodies than space. In the first dress run yesterday we lost a pair of shoes, and simply couldn’t even find the floor to look for them. (This is also a dressing room full of teenage girls and ALL the clutter which seems to be necessary to their existence!) We’ve got one girl storing her stuff in the shower, another treats the entrance to the shower cubicle as her personal space. (A bit handy since she also has some quick changes, and that seems to be the one clear traffic path!)
There are a number of costume changes during the show (even though, when this was first described to me it was kind of outlined as a one costume kind of show… That was, of course, before I learned it was totally double cast, which really meant a series of costumes for the speaking role nights, and a series for the non-speaking role nights, and then formal and informal for the Duke, and mourning, half-mourning, and out of mourning for the Countess’ household, and some disguises, and…. You get the picture!)
A couple of the changes are QUICK!. Which means finding and presetting all the bits, and helping the actresses. And patting down the ruffled nerves. None of the off-stage people really have the attention span to be dependable help. It’s hard enough to clear a path for exits from the stage, and room for the change!
For the actual performances, it appears we’re going to have a couple of parent volunteers. Which means MORE bodies, but may help with noise and traffic control. (At least I never really had to deal with volunteer help for sewing. I kept leaving little jobs just in case, easy things, but then finished those all up myself anyway.) But definitely having someone to snarl at the kids to be quiet might be handy, though Lord only knows where they’ll fit themselves! It’s already problematic that the non-speaking roles are only on the stage for a couple of instances, and have the rest of the play in which to be bored and underfoot.
Well, there. Did my “major” repair. Will move the snap and sew on the button down at the theatre. Imagine I’ll have to do some pressing and de-wrinkling, too!
Because it’s such a short run, two performances per cast, I won’t really be doing much laundry, but there are a couple of items that simply have to be shared. (It obviously bothers my sensibilities far more than the kids’, but still, it is a professional theatre, I figure they should get as good as I’ve given on any other show I’ve been involved in.) Admittedly, there are also a few costume items that seem to end up on the wrong bodies.
There was the second pair of pants for Antonio, because the slimmer actress suddenly declared that though they’d been fine in the fitting, they weren’t now.They were too tight! So I’d found another pair, dyed them, hemmed them, and now she seems to wear either pair. And the actress that was happy with the original pair seems to be ending up in the replacements… (Beats me!)
And one entire costume seems to be being shared for a non-speaking role, while the second costume hangs there completely unused! But since they’re fairly neutral costumes, it doesn’t make a visual impact, and I’m just biting my tongue and ignoring it.
I did manage to grab one actress just before rehearsal started, aghast, saying “you have nail polish on!” and thrusting cotton balls and nail polish remover at her. (It was BLACK polish!!!) But I’m playing a girl, she said. How about red? I was mean and adamant.
There, the white load is in…
Of course, the timing of all this does mean I’m hardly going to see my husband in the next couple of days, and then he’s off to CanIron in Nova Scotia for a week and a bit… And when he comes back, he’ll be eyebrow deep in the next project which happens seemingly minutes later. Oh well. This is a bit of back-to-back time for me too. Hope I’ve left myself a few brain cells for the next thing on the agenda…
And I need to get more heelgrips, and hair clips, and pick up better hangers for hanging up all the pants….
They’re not all of the dump-it-on-the-floor school, but it does seem that their expertise in using hangers leaves a bit to be desired. So I figured those hangers with clips might help all the pants stay a bit less crumpled looking!
Part of the problem, too, is that although the Opera House is a lovely little theatre space, it has only the two dressing rooms, and a minimal backstage space, and no greenroom at all, so there’s nowhere for the kids not on stage to go. (Maybe the Mayor would surrender his office, which is directly below…..) But it does mean that there are more bodies than space. In the first dress run yesterday we lost a pair of shoes, and simply couldn’t even find the floor to look for them. (This is also a dressing room full of teenage girls and ALL the clutter which seems to be necessary to their existence!) We’ve got one girl storing her stuff in the shower, another treats the entrance to the shower cubicle as her personal space. (A bit handy since she also has some quick changes, and that seems to be the one clear traffic path!)
There are a number of costume changes during the show (even though, when this was first described to me it was kind of outlined as a one costume kind of show… That was, of course, before I learned it was totally double cast, which really meant a series of costumes for the speaking role nights, and a series for the non-speaking role nights, and then formal and informal for the Duke, and mourning, half-mourning, and out of mourning for the Countess’ household, and some disguises, and…. You get the picture!)
A couple of the changes are QUICK!. Which means finding and presetting all the bits, and helping the actresses. And patting down the ruffled nerves. None of the off-stage people really have the attention span to be dependable help. It’s hard enough to clear a path for exits from the stage, and room for the change!
For the actual performances, it appears we’re going to have a couple of parent volunteers. Which means MORE bodies, but may help with noise and traffic control. (At least I never really had to deal with volunteer help for sewing. I kept leaving little jobs just in case, easy things, but then finished those all up myself anyway.) But definitely having someone to snarl at the kids to be quiet might be handy, though Lord only knows where they’ll fit themselves! It’s already problematic that the non-speaking roles are only on the stage for a couple of instances, and have the rest of the play in which to be bored and underfoot.
Well, there. Did my “major” repair. Will move the snap and sew on the button down at the theatre. Imagine I’ll have to do some pressing and de-wrinkling, too!
Because it’s such a short run, two performances per cast, I won’t really be doing much laundry, but there are a couple of items that simply have to be shared. (It obviously bothers my sensibilities far more than the kids’, but still, it is a professional theatre, I figure they should get as good as I’ve given on any other show I’ve been involved in.) Admittedly, there are also a few costume items that seem to end up on the wrong bodies.
There was the second pair of pants for Antonio, because the slimmer actress suddenly declared that though they’d been fine in the fitting, they weren’t now.They were too tight! So I’d found another pair, dyed them, hemmed them, and now she seems to wear either pair. And the actress that was happy with the original pair seems to be ending up in the replacements… (Beats me!)
And one entire costume seems to be being shared for a non-speaking role, while the second costume hangs there completely unused! But since they’re fairly neutral costumes, it doesn’t make a visual impact, and I’m just biting my tongue and ignoring it.
I did manage to grab one actress just before rehearsal started, aghast, saying “you have nail polish on!” and thrusting cotton balls and nail polish remover at her. (It was BLACK polish!!!) But I’m playing a girl, she said. How about red? I was mean and adamant.
There, the white load is in…
Of course, the timing of all this does mean I’m hardly going to see my husband in the next couple of days, and then he’s off to CanIron in Nova Scotia for a week and a bit… And when he comes back, he’ll be eyebrow deep in the next project which happens seemingly minutes later. Oh well. This is a bit of back-to-back time for me too. Hope I’ve left myself a few brain cells for the next thing on the agenda…
Tuesday, August 23, 2005
down to the wire
Well, tech/dress and Q-to-Q are over. All that’s left before opening is the pair of dress rehearsals tomorrow afternoon and evening. And my only note from today, apart from a reminder to myself to get shoe polish, was to move a snap.
So….. not too shabby!
Of course, who knows what will happen tomorrow when the darlings actually try to act in their costumes…. It surprised me today that so few people even wanted to use costume pieces that they’ll have “business” with: hats, jackets, coin purses, SHOES!
(I was so amazed. There was one actress today who spent the entire set of rehearsals shuffling around in large fluffy chicken slippers! She could hardly walk! )
And then of course, there was the incident yesterday when I got gas, Mr. Honda or “Saun of the Dead” as I call him for his zombie like qualities, being down to his last sip, and the gas attendant almost had a heart attack….. $43 dollars? No-one can put 43 dollars worth of gas into a Honda!!! Well, it might have been truth once….
So….. not too shabby!
Of course, who knows what will happen tomorrow when the darlings actually try to act in their costumes…. It surprised me today that so few people even wanted to use costume pieces that they’ll have “business” with: hats, jackets, coin purses, SHOES!
(I was so amazed. There was one actress today who spent the entire set of rehearsals shuffling around in large fluffy chicken slippers! She could hardly walk! )
And then of course, there was the incident yesterday when I got gas, Mr. Honda or “Saun of the Dead” as I call him for his zombie like qualities, being down to his last sip, and the gas attendant almost had a heart attack….. $43 dollars? No-one can put 43 dollars worth of gas into a Honda!!! Well, it might have been truth once….
Catching a breath.....(but just one!)
…It’s great! I have tons of things to blog about during this show, and no time at all to squeeze it in!
This morning is a cue to cue rehearsal, a wee bit later-starting than usual, though I do need to be there, to try and get a rough idea of when all the costume changes happen. (But it means I can grab a last few seconds before leaving to fling this together.)
We did Costume Parade on Friday morning, and apart from it being totally chaotic upstairs in the dressing rooms: 6 fellows rattling about in one room, 19 girls in the other!, downstairs, on stage, not only did everyone end up with a costume, they even looked good! I’m so pleased. (What a bonus!) There had always been the chance that design vision might have to bow to the practicality of just having ANYTHING AT ALL on these people!
So, last night I took care of the one last note I had, bought one more pair of heel grips for the shoes that fit one day, but not the next, and another pair of shoe laces.
NOT that I imagine for an instant that everything will stay complete…I’m sure all sorts of things will surface or be newly born, during today’s Tech/Dress, or tomorrow’s double dress rehearsals, but on the whole, I feel reasonably assured I’m where I should be.
I even managed to squeeze in being drowned at Summerfolk in Owen Sound on the weekend. Missed the major rains on Friday, (and unfortunately, the concerts I’d most wanted to hear), but caught the showers on Saturday, and some really good music, and the downpour Sunday suppertime, finishing up the evening with Valdy,(playing the same songs, I’m sure, that he played when I was in University!), and driving home to the final strains of Trout Fishing in America.
This morning is a cue to cue rehearsal, a wee bit later-starting than usual, though I do need to be there, to try and get a rough idea of when all the costume changes happen. (But it means I can grab a last few seconds before leaving to fling this together.)
We did Costume Parade on Friday morning, and apart from it being totally chaotic upstairs in the dressing rooms: 6 fellows rattling about in one room, 19 girls in the other!, downstairs, on stage, not only did everyone end up with a costume, they even looked good! I’m so pleased. (What a bonus!) There had always been the chance that design vision might have to bow to the practicality of just having ANYTHING AT ALL on these people!
So, last night I took care of the one last note I had, bought one more pair of heel grips for the shoes that fit one day, but not the next, and another pair of shoe laces.
NOT that I imagine for an instant that everything will stay complete…I’m sure all sorts of things will surface or be newly born, during today’s Tech/Dress, or tomorrow’s double dress rehearsals, but on the whole, I feel reasonably assured I’m where I should be.
I even managed to squeeze in being drowned at Summerfolk in Owen Sound on the weekend. Missed the major rains on Friday, (and unfortunately, the concerts I’d most wanted to hear), but caught the showers on Saturday, and some really good music, and the downpour Sunday suppertime, finishing up the evening with Valdy,(playing the same songs, I’m sure, that he played when I was in University!), and driving home to the final strains of Trout Fishing in America.
Wednesday, August 17, 2005
Squeak!
Made it through the second mini-costume-parade.
Not quite as bad. We’d finished up with some of the actors, and all the fellows, so that at least meant I was only trying to be in one or two or three places at once! Yea!
Still chaos. Just chaos more contained.
Okay, they’re teenagers. No one expects teenagers to understand the inner mysteries of a clothes hanger. And once the costumes are moved to the theatre and in the dressing rooms, I won’t worry as much.
Of course, it does look like we may have to be having major workshops in “how to tuck a shirt in”. It appears that none of these people have ever tucked in a shirt in their lives! (Or maybe that’s because they wear their pants so low on their hips that the shirts don’t reach…)
I am looking forward to learning how to tie a double Windsor knot in a tie, which the director has promised to show us, since I only know how to do a single.
I’m definitely figuring out which of the group have the more experienced, professional approach though. (I may NEVER figure out all their names however!)
There are the ones who just can’t sit still for a second, let alone pay any attention to anything. There are some that find delight in whatever crosses their paths. Some don’t like their role/costume, and that translates into slumpy posture and nothing looking any good.
Yesterday’s gem was the girl who, in the fitting had been totally happy with the pants I’d bought and permanently altered, (and she’s the slimmer of the pair of actors in that role), who yesterday wouldn’t even put on the pants because “they don’t fit. They hurt”. And couldn’t try on the skirt because she didn’t understand how to adjust the drawstring in the waist….
Mind you, I have definite recollections of another actress in a professional theatre, who liked her costume #1 and costume #3, but hated the second costume. (Too dowdy, in her opinion.) When she had to be put into it, in a quick change, she would expand her lungs and ribs like a thoroughbred filly with attitude, and the very first time, in rehearsal, when I tried to lace her into it, the laces wouldn’t even do up half of the back! (I eventually mollified her by making laces twice as long, adding a wider placket, and lining the back edges of the dress with luxurious velvet ribbon. But she never did like that dress as much as the others….)
Oh well. I have to go in this morning and repair the damage to the costume rack: hang everything back up correctly, re-sort it all, gather up the scattered shoes, and see if people actually labeled the ones that fit, as I’d asked, and start packaging it all up to transfer to the theatre.
Of course, that will be a bit more awkward since the TD is taking a day or two away on other business, and the van is required for something else, and we’ll have to finagle it out of their hands….
Not quite as bad. We’d finished up with some of the actors, and all the fellows, so that at least meant I was only trying to be in one or two or three places at once! Yea!
Still chaos. Just chaos more contained.
Okay, they’re teenagers. No one expects teenagers to understand the inner mysteries of a clothes hanger. And once the costumes are moved to the theatre and in the dressing rooms, I won’t worry as much.
Of course, it does look like we may have to be having major workshops in “how to tuck a shirt in”. It appears that none of these people have ever tucked in a shirt in their lives! (Or maybe that’s because they wear their pants so low on their hips that the shirts don’t reach…)
I am looking forward to learning how to tie a double Windsor knot in a tie, which the director has promised to show us, since I only know how to do a single.
I’m definitely figuring out which of the group have the more experienced, professional approach though. (I may NEVER figure out all their names however!)
There are the ones who just can’t sit still for a second, let alone pay any attention to anything. There are some that find delight in whatever crosses their paths. Some don’t like their role/costume, and that translates into slumpy posture and nothing looking any good.
Yesterday’s gem was the girl who, in the fitting had been totally happy with the pants I’d bought and permanently altered, (and she’s the slimmer of the pair of actors in that role), who yesterday wouldn’t even put on the pants because “they don’t fit. They hurt”. And couldn’t try on the skirt because she didn’t understand how to adjust the drawstring in the waist….
Mind you, I have definite recollections of another actress in a professional theatre, who liked her costume #1 and costume #3, but hated the second costume. (Too dowdy, in her opinion.) When she had to be put into it, in a quick change, she would expand her lungs and ribs like a thoroughbred filly with attitude, and the very first time, in rehearsal, when I tried to lace her into it, the laces wouldn’t even do up half of the back! (I eventually mollified her by making laces twice as long, adding a wider placket, and lining the back edges of the dress with luxurious velvet ribbon. But she never did like that dress as much as the others….)
Oh well. I have to go in this morning and repair the damage to the costume rack: hang everything back up correctly, re-sort it all, gather up the scattered shoes, and see if people actually labeled the ones that fit, as I’d asked, and start packaging it all up to transfer to the theatre.
Of course, that will be a bit more awkward since the TD is taking a day or two away on other business, and the van is required for something else, and we’ll have to finagle it out of their hands….
Tuesday, August 16, 2005
Danger! Danger! Will Robinson!
ARGH! What a week this past seven days has been!
I finally managed the last “initial” fitting at end of day, last Tuesday. And gathered up my huge pile of alterations, and settled down in my studio on Wednesday to get going on them.
It’s a bit of a pain, but the theatre workshops don’t really have a costume workspace. It’s primarily costume storage, and a couple of needles and thread and pins for quick fixes. So I have to pull and co-ordinate my possible costume pieces there, arrange for the fittings, and then come back and do the alterations in my own workspace. That worked not badly for Sword in the Stone, earlier in the year, but it was a small cast, even though lots of pieces, and I could finish up with fittings quickly, and get to work! This cast is mucking huge! 25 kids in the program, and only one actor plays the same role in both versions of the cast. (I keep trying to do the math to determine just how many costumes I have, but my brain gets all tangled up!)
Anyway, being lazy, rather than working through my pile of adjustments with any method, I just started at the top of the pile, as I’d unloaded them. That was a bunch of machine hems on black jeans. So, the kind of thing to go quite quickly. And as I’m working along, I occasionally glance out the window, and am watching a large Hydro work truck playing around across the road. The farmhouse there has just had an addition this summer, and perhaps they’re upgrading their power? Whatever. I can hear the truck, and the cherry picker as it maneuvers around. And then I’m watching the man in the lift playing about at the top of the pole, and think, boy I hope he knows what he’s doing…. And whumpf! Our power goes out! All the computers and APC units start beeping. I dash to mine, where I’d been working on a spreadsheet of secondary roles and measurements, and hope I’ve managed to save it. Then trot around the house turning things off and muttering….
Poor Darrell is on the phone at the time, and gets to listen to me snarling about “trained professionals”.
When he gets off the phone, not being able to promise WHEN he’ll be able to send the computer file they were asking for, he went across the street to complain, where he hears “we didn’t know it was a house, we thought it was a shed, we stuck our head in, no-one was there.”
[Note: We live in a converted drive shed, and the bit that fronts onto the east west sideroad is very barnlike. The house runs across the back half of the building, and accesses from the north south sideroad. But to look at the property straight on, especially if you’re pinpointing a specific power pole, you’d see the house, like the crossbar of a T, framing the peaked roof of the drive shed portion. NOT TO MENTION that there’s a van backed down the drive, doors open, where Darrell’s been unloading from the Goderich Celtic Festival, and there’s a deck and lawnchairs and garden and windchimes….]
But so anyway, for an hour and a half we had no power. (And no water, no flushing toilets, no chance of a cup of coffee, no music…) Mind you, I did have lots of handsewing to do…
Anyway, I slogged through my alterations, and yesterday we started a quick costume parade, just so the director could actually see my ideas on his people, and we could figure out ahead of time what problems we might have.
Boy, was that chaos! 25 kids, even with the director, two stage managers and me trying to keep them in check… Argh! I don’t even know for sure how far we got. I’ll have to go spend an hour or two just trying to sort out the costume racks again to guess. And we get to do it again today! Oh joy!
I finally managed the last “initial” fitting at end of day, last Tuesday. And gathered up my huge pile of alterations, and settled down in my studio on Wednesday to get going on them.
It’s a bit of a pain, but the theatre workshops don’t really have a costume workspace. It’s primarily costume storage, and a couple of needles and thread and pins for quick fixes. So I have to pull and co-ordinate my possible costume pieces there, arrange for the fittings, and then come back and do the alterations in my own workspace. That worked not badly for Sword in the Stone, earlier in the year, but it was a small cast, even though lots of pieces, and I could finish up with fittings quickly, and get to work! This cast is mucking huge! 25 kids in the program, and only one actor plays the same role in both versions of the cast. (I keep trying to do the math to determine just how many costumes I have, but my brain gets all tangled up!)
Anyway, being lazy, rather than working through my pile of adjustments with any method, I just started at the top of the pile, as I’d unloaded them. That was a bunch of machine hems on black jeans. So, the kind of thing to go quite quickly. And as I’m working along, I occasionally glance out the window, and am watching a large Hydro work truck playing around across the road. The farmhouse there has just had an addition this summer, and perhaps they’re upgrading their power? Whatever. I can hear the truck, and the cherry picker as it maneuvers around. And then I’m watching the man in the lift playing about at the top of the pole, and think, boy I hope he knows what he’s doing…. And whumpf! Our power goes out! All the computers and APC units start beeping. I dash to mine, where I’d been working on a spreadsheet of secondary roles and measurements, and hope I’ve managed to save it. Then trot around the house turning things off and muttering….
Poor Darrell is on the phone at the time, and gets to listen to me snarling about “trained professionals”.
When he gets off the phone, not being able to promise WHEN he’ll be able to send the computer file they were asking for, he went across the street to complain, where he hears “we didn’t know it was a house, we thought it was a shed, we stuck our head in, no-one was there.”
[Note: We live in a converted drive shed, and the bit that fronts onto the east west sideroad is very barnlike. The house runs across the back half of the building, and accesses from the north south sideroad. But to look at the property straight on, especially if you’re pinpointing a specific power pole, you’d see the house, like the crossbar of a T, framing the peaked roof of the drive shed portion. NOT TO MENTION that there’s a van backed down the drive, doors open, where Darrell’s been unloading from the Goderich Celtic Festival, and there’s a deck and lawnchairs and garden and windchimes….]
But so anyway, for an hour and a half we had no power. (And no water, no flushing toilets, no chance of a cup of coffee, no music…) Mind you, I did have lots of handsewing to do…
Anyway, I slogged through my alterations, and yesterday we started a quick costume parade, just so the director could actually see my ideas on his people, and we could figure out ahead of time what problems we might have.
Boy, was that chaos! 25 kids, even with the director, two stage managers and me trying to keep them in check… Argh! I don’t even know for sure how far we got. I’ll have to go spend an hour or two just trying to sort out the costume racks again to guess. And we get to do it again today! Oh joy!
Wednesday, August 10, 2005
Ta Da!!!
Well, I’ve finished the first go-round of fittings! What was theoretical, now just needs to be altered. (Unless, of course, when we have a showing for the director next week, he really isn’t happy with the clothing ON the kids….)
I do know that he was really hankering after the look of an off-white linen suit for Sebastian and Viola/Cesario. And yes, it’s absolutely perfect for the entire idea of setting this in 1950’s Cuba. BUT…
Not only were there no cream suits of any type in the costume stock, and certainly none that would fit my double cast; if I were to try and fake it out of cream jackets and pants, then I’d also be trying to match up the colour.
As it stands, going for the “yacht club” look of cream pants, blue blazer, burgundy tie, and straw fedora, the cream pants aren’t all cream and the blue of the blazers aren’t the same. But I think I’ve got enough similarity that the audience could possibly believe in the deception….
And now I get to start wrestling with the costumes for their non-speaking roles; townspeople, musicians and sailors.
But first, I’m at home tomorrow to try and do all the alterations I’ve been noting down and pinning into place!
I do know that he was really hankering after the look of an off-white linen suit for Sebastian and Viola/Cesario. And yes, it’s absolutely perfect for the entire idea of setting this in 1950’s Cuba. BUT…
Not only were there no cream suits of any type in the costume stock, and certainly none that would fit my double cast; if I were to try and fake it out of cream jackets and pants, then I’d also be trying to match up the colour.
As it stands, going for the “yacht club” look of cream pants, blue blazer, burgundy tie, and straw fedora, the cream pants aren’t all cream and the blue of the blazers aren’t the same. But I think I’ve got enough similarity that the audience could possibly believe in the deception….
And now I get to start wrestling with the costumes for their non-speaking roles; townspeople, musicians and sailors.
But first, I’m at home tomorrow to try and do all the alterations I’ve been noting down and pinning into place!
Monday, August 08, 2005
Twelfth Night
Well, gee, I’d thought I’d have lots of little things to mutter about my theatre production. But instead I’m working flat out, it feels, and barely have time to download mail, (let alone read it), and no time at all to marshal thoughts for the blog.
Mind you, I did manage another lot of first fittings today. And for the most part it went well. I’m finding it a bit hard on the brain with this “double casting” thing. I have to remember when someone comes in for their fitting, that they’re only half of the job. For some of the roles, there’s enough difference in size, that I already know ahead of time that one costume won’t be one, but at least one and a half, probably two. But there’s a few instances where their sizes are close enough that I have to fit one, and not make definite moves to alter the costume, until I’m sure the second person needs the same alterations!
What I am finding a bit odd, is the mind set of these young actors. They don’t yet have the experience to be giving the kind of comments you’d get from long term actors. Instead these kids kind of take on the roles of designer, director, & playwright. “I have this dress...”, “I have these shoes...(red stilettos!)”, I think the character should have a hat like…”, “I’d like to wear boots, knee-high, I could tuck my pants in”….
And it’s funny, they none of them seem to know how to tuck a shirt in. Or put a jacket on, if I kindly hold it out for them.
Still, I’m thinking they have a lot of energy and enthusiasm, and I’m thinking it might be a good-looking show by the time we’re done…Certainly, I’m hoping that!
Mind you, I did manage another lot of first fittings today. And for the most part it went well. I’m finding it a bit hard on the brain with this “double casting” thing. I have to remember when someone comes in for their fitting, that they’re only half of the job. For some of the roles, there’s enough difference in size, that I already know ahead of time that one costume won’t be one, but at least one and a half, probably two. But there’s a few instances where their sizes are close enough that I have to fit one, and not make definite moves to alter the costume, until I’m sure the second person needs the same alterations!
What I am finding a bit odd, is the mind set of these young actors. They don’t yet have the experience to be giving the kind of comments you’d get from long term actors. Instead these kids kind of take on the roles of designer, director, & playwright. “I have this dress...”, “I have these shoes...(red stilettos!)”, I think the character should have a hat like…”, “I’d like to wear boots, knee-high, I could tuck my pants in”….
And it’s funny, they none of them seem to know how to tuck a shirt in. Or put a jacket on, if I kindly hold it out for them.
Still, I’m thinking they have a lot of energy and enthusiasm, and I’m thinking it might be a good-looking show by the time we’re done…Certainly, I’m hoping that!
Wednesday, July 27, 2005
If music be the food of love, give me hot sauce.
Sure, now, and I hadn’t expected to be reading Shakespeare with my morning coffee… But there it is! I seem to have suddenly become costume designer (and wardrobe) for a young company’s production of Twelfth Night.
Well, yes, the TD had mentioned to me back at the end of June that this show was upcoming, and had asked me if my schedule was such that I might want my name suggested. (I’d done another show with her earlier in the year.)
And then, in mid-July, their production manager had called to ask if I was still interested, and I had a vision of my name being added to a list.
Then, time passed. And since we kind of reached the point where they’d been going to be starting, with no further word, I said Oh Well, and put it out of my mind.
Imagine my surprise on coming home from a postal run to town yesterday to find a message from the TD asking if last evening or tonight would be best for a production meeting with the director!
It does seem that a few wires got crossed. They eventually chivvied the PM to get back to me with the offer and confirm the whole thing, and I hightailed it off to the meeting. And yes, it seems I’m not just coordinating the costumes, I’m designing them! Within the parameters of the director’s vision of course. Cuba, in the 1950’s. Hmmmm….. And of course, young people, and more girls than boys, and a shoestring budget, and only enough money for me that it won’t cost me to do this…. Oh well. No-one ever said I had a head for business.
I just hope there’s SOMETHING in the theatre’s costume stock to start us off!
Well, yes, the TD had mentioned to me back at the end of June that this show was upcoming, and had asked me if my schedule was such that I might want my name suggested. (I’d done another show with her earlier in the year.)
And then, in mid-July, their production manager had called to ask if I was still interested, and I had a vision of my name being added to a list.
Then, time passed. And since we kind of reached the point where they’d been going to be starting, with no further word, I said Oh Well, and put it out of my mind.
Imagine my surprise on coming home from a postal run to town yesterday to find a message from the TD asking if last evening or tonight would be best for a production meeting with the director!
It does seem that a few wires got crossed. They eventually chivvied the PM to get back to me with the offer and confirm the whole thing, and I hightailed it off to the meeting. And yes, it seems I’m not just coordinating the costumes, I’m designing them! Within the parameters of the director’s vision of course. Cuba, in the 1950’s. Hmmmm….. And of course, young people, and more girls than boys, and a shoestring budget, and only enough money for me that it won’t cost me to do this…. Oh well. No-one ever said I had a head for business.
I just hope there’s SOMETHING in the theatre’s costume stock to start us off!
Wednesday, July 20, 2005
the philosophy of blogging
I’m being nagged, ever so nicely, by my audience of one, that I’m not really yet getting into the spirit of blogging.
I replied that I haven’t yet wrapped my head around the idea of something which may or may not be read, depending on who I tell about it, and the ever-present concerns about being boring or tedious or whiny (how DO you spell that?), not to mention trying to remember WHO I give this address to, supposing I do, and not to say anything I will regret…
I never was a diarist in my life. It was a great idea, but between having nothing much to say, and being lousy at sticking to deadlines or schedules….
Occasionally I have concepts or ideas or theories, or experiments that it would be nice to set down somewhere, even if no-one reads them. But they don’t happen in any kind of predictable fashion.
Maybe I can just wax poetic about the inability to think of things to say?
Mind you, out of this exercise, I have at least figured out how to FTP things with the programs I currently have, so that’s a kind of achievement, isn’t it?
I replied that I haven’t yet wrapped my head around the idea of something which may or may not be read, depending on who I tell about it, and the ever-present concerns about being boring or tedious or whiny (how DO you spell that?), not to mention trying to remember WHO I give this address to, supposing I do, and not to say anything I will regret…
I never was a diarist in my life. It was a great idea, but between having nothing much to say, and being lousy at sticking to deadlines or schedules….
Occasionally I have concepts or ideas or theories, or experiments that it would be nice to set down somewhere, even if no-one reads them. But they don’t happen in any kind of predictable fashion.
Maybe I can just wax poetic about the inability to think of things to say?
Mind you, out of this exercise, I have at least figured out how to FTP things with the programs I currently have, so that’s a kind of achievement, isn’t it?
Sunday, July 10, 2005
the sky is falling! the sky is falling!
So, there we were, in the wasteland that is summer television, watching a dvd of Pirates of the Caribbean…
And we got to the spot where the maid servant fills the warming pan with hot coals and sticks it under the covers next to the tender feet of her young Mistress Elizabeth. And I exchange glances with my Spousal Object, and we both mutter a comment or two, along the lines of: “it’s Jamaica, who needs to warm the bed?” and “and you wouldn’t put it in the bed with someone, and you wouldn’t leave it there, you’d swoosh it about to warm the linens, not leave it to scorch them”….
And then we carry on watching. And was it just incredible suspension of disbelief? I sniffed. Sniffed again. I was sure I could smell burning…. He leaps up and heads down to check the shop. I wander to the kitchen. Then back to the door onto the deck. I sniff again. And again. And then notice the soft white fallout. And my black cat lying comfortably on the deck. Going grey. With ashes….
Yup, it’s just Larry the Lawnmower man next door, finding more forest to burn. I’m surprised he has anything left over there to chop and burn. He’s cleared out so much that you’d never believe it was a landscaped wooded lot before he got his hands on it. Sigh.
Sorry, Chicken Little, it’s just Larry again.
And we got to the spot where the maid servant fills the warming pan with hot coals and sticks it under the covers next to the tender feet of her young Mistress Elizabeth. And I exchange glances with my Spousal Object, and we both mutter a comment or two, along the lines of: “it’s Jamaica, who needs to warm the bed?” and “and you wouldn’t put it in the bed with someone, and you wouldn’t leave it there, you’d swoosh it about to warm the linens, not leave it to scorch them”….
And then we carry on watching. And was it just incredible suspension of disbelief? I sniffed. Sniffed again. I was sure I could smell burning…. He leaps up and heads down to check the shop. I wander to the kitchen. Then back to the door onto the deck. I sniff again. And again. And then notice the soft white fallout. And my black cat lying comfortably on the deck. Going grey. With ashes….
Yup, it’s just Larry the Lawnmower man next door, finding more forest to burn. I’m surprised he has anything left over there to chop and burn. He’s cleared out so much that you’d never believe it was a landscaped wooded lot before he got his hands on it. Sigh.
Sorry, Chicken Little, it’s just Larry again.
Saturday, July 09, 2005
can it be done?
Greetings.
If all goes well, at some point this may become the blog of Anti-V, aunt, fairy godmother, obsessive proofreader, cook, textile-worker, re-enactor, cat-lover, and aging warped mind.
But then, you never know. I'm a bit short on unblemished black goats this season...
If all goes well, at some point this may become the blog of Anti-V, aunt, fairy godmother, obsessive proofreader, cook, textile-worker, re-enactor, cat-lover, and aging warped mind.
But then, you never know. I'm a bit short on unblemished black goats this season...
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