Squad Pod #5: Team Technical Direction

PLEASE BE AWARE: At 18:27 (Kimberly is talking about how she’s sad we weren’t going to get the chance to get through tech) there is a wild and startling sound glitch that lasts 6 seconds. It’s the only time the glitch occurs and the flow of the interview was so good that I didn’t want to try another take. So I beg your forgiveness and beg that you treat it as you would an exciting moment in live theatre where perhaps an unexpected event only served to make a live experience unique.

And this week on Squad Pod we have a most remarkable and wonderful Team Technical Direction!

I cannot really emphasize how much respect I have for these people. Technical Directors are the part of the production team that takes my designer dream castles and begins to put the real-life foundations in them. Production teams are tasked with making the esoteric into a physical reality. At UConn, the technical directors for the shows are often grad students. The technical director for Little Shop, Kimberly, has multiple other credits as technical director at CRT including Good Children and Shakespeare in Love.

Kimberly and I first worked together on Henry IV. She was one of the assistant technical directors on that production. We got a tiny taste of how good our work flow might prove on that production. Turns out, as Little Shop showed us, we make a really killer team as designer and TD. Kimberly is an incredible communicator, attentive to detail, and a rock solid ally throughout the process. I look forward to the day when we get to see a show all the way through together.

The TD rockstar herself

Did I mention that she and I (along with other shop friends including other Little Shop squad-star Ray) have a thing for overalls?

The second interview is with Kimberly’s most fantastic Assistant Technical Director, Gavin. Gavin is recently graduated with his BFA from UConn (Congrats Grad!!!), and he certainly spent a good deal of time in the scene shop at the university. He also worked as a student manager for the UConn men’s ice hockey team. I mean, this is the kind of person who makes me feel like I should be out saving the world or something because he definitely did a lot within the department and outside. He is at once gracious and fierce, and I can’t wait to run into him again as well. He and Kimberly worked beautifully as a team, could not have been in better hands on this show.

The Dash in the flesh! (I gave him that code name because he always seemed to be dashing away the second Kimberly needed something, only to return so fast I started to question if he had even left….)

I love this picture. A shot of Gavin and our TD grads (Left to Right: Joey, Aubrey, (Gavin), and Kimberly). This was taken on the set of Shakespeare in Love, on which Kimberly was the TD.

Only piece that got fully built before the hard stop was the City Skyline. Here’s the framing

Here it is faced (and with faces ;)

And we got a little bit of paint on it before we had to leave campus

The paint elevation for the City Skyline (i.e. what she was supposed to look like when all was built and painted)

A model photo from the scene by scenic I built for my MFA Project Book. This would have been a moment where the City Skyline piece would have been the most visible during the performance as we traveled from the shop to the dentist office.

Disclaimers, Clarifications, Comments: Again, apologies for the sound glitch in Kimberly’s interview. These audio pieces are recorded in one take via Zoom with no editing so they are about what you’d expect in terms of overall sound quality/capabilities. Remember that these are also informal chats among colleagues where we are sharing opinions based on our own perceptions of our experiences; these perceptions are not to be misconstrued as the “only right” way to view the situation or work.

Episode 5: The White Model

Actual picture of me in my natural model making state without assistants

So we start getting into the rock stars of the scenic design world: the model. Models are obviously not only limited to the realm of scenic design, but they are an essential tool for communicating and (in a way) proving a design. They are the closest you can get to actually test driving how everything is going to look in real time. As has been told to me many times, “We work in a three dimensional art form and so we should be showing our designs through a three dimensional medium.”

There are many advantages to a physical model. You are creating a tool that can accurately inform you down to the inch if what you are thinking is even going to fit, let alone look good in the space. To put something “in scale” means simply that we can shrink the whole world down by logical proportions to a size that we can put in a box and carry around (although admittedly some scale sized models are still enormous relatively speaking). You take increments of measurement (in the case of America increments of the inch while the rest of the world calmly goes about using metric increments) and simply make it equal to 1 foot in real life. For show models, I tend to work in 1/4”=1’-0” scale. While still tiny (think about it, a person measuring 6’ in real life is only an inch and a half tall in scale), you can get enough detail to communicate the idea while still keeping the whole model relatively manageable in size.

The model is an excellent communication tool, especially for the director. While a ground plan drafted out can be helpful, the model really conveys the whole meaning and consequences of each piece in in the actual space, in all the planes that matter to the performance (i.e. three dimensions). It’s all about the idea of “show don’t tell.” Words are very easy to confuse or misinterpret, but if you can pick up a piece and move it around in the actual space in this tiny world, that gets everyone a lot closer to being on the same page about what the design is shaping into.

White models are a kind of first draft of the space, some designers will even refer to them as “sketch models.” The process is similar to a sketch in the sense that you are trying to rough out ideas and just get something down on the page; only with the model it’s inside a scale replica of the theatre. Despite this designation, white models can be as simple or complicated as desired. They are called white models because they are often made out of white paper materials and don’t have color applied. Some are truly just the simplest shapes while others are works of art showing off all the architectural buildups and detail. However, the usual point of a white model is to get the basic gesture of the set, possibly starting to play with texture and smaller details.

My process isn’t terribly unique for a number of designers working in the industry at present. For models, I tend to draft the pieces in a computer program that I can then print out to cut and install. I happen to work out of Vectorworks, but that’s more a matter of comfort for me personally than any specific advantage the program offers. Drafting things in the computer is a marvelous modern wonder that I’m not embarrassed to admit still amazes me. I can make the piece with absolute accuracy and then reproduce it swiftly and, again, accurately, as many times as I wish. And trust me, for a model, that is crucial.

I make what’s called a model kit. This simply means that I draft the pieces so that they are a flat version of the object that can be built up during the install. Think about a four legged table; now, pretend you smashed that table flat and then fly directly overhead and look down. You would see the table top, and then the four legs sticking directly out from each side. That is what you are trying to draft for each piece, a smashed flat, or disassembled version that can be printed on a flat piece of card stock and then folded or built back into its 3 dimensional form.

Example of White Model Kit for Little Shop

Example 2 of White Model Kit for Little Shop

From these kits, my assistants and I build up the pieces for the model and then install them in the box. Little Shop was a show that saw many incarnations of the white model from the most basic, to the inclusion of buildups and textures. I started exploring this show initially under the idea that the shop could turn a full 360 degrees, stopping on the front view or the back depending on the scene. The white models were mostly built exploring this version of the shop in the space.

The only surviving picture of the very first fully assembled white model made for this show. Truly a “sketch” model.

First model version pieces

Tape for scale

That rectangle on the floor is totally an accurate representation for Audrey 2 (definitely not true, we will get there in a later post).

Next Version, White Model 2.0

Interior of Shop 2.0

Up close and Personal with Shop 2.0

White Model 3.0, getting in a little texture and detail to start seeing how that reads

White Model 3.0 shop interior

Oh yeah, and we have a dentist!!

Some 3.0 Pieces

Shop 3.0

Upstage surrounding pieces for model 3.0

Splay wall pieces for model 3.0

Exhibit of White Model pieces….or at least what made it through the great sudden studio clean out and move out of COVID19

While lacking in some of the more fleshed out details, white models are an awesome way to start communicating the broad ideas of the world before investing too deeply in details. Again, I’m always in collaboration with my director, and I find that if I can start with showing broad strokes, then my conversations about those structures with the director will really start to clarify the details. I like to try and develop models that make clear my thoughts and ideas, but still provide a lot of flexibility for us to tease and tweak, moving forward together with ideas that will serve the aesthetic and the performance. White models are just another tool for successful collaboration, a way to shift forward towards a more detailed color model as the process continues.

Squad Pod: #2 A Chat with Assistant Scenic Designers (Little Shop of Horrors)

Duration: 40 Min (wish)

Duration: 11 MIN (ish)

Today is a bit of a sad day considering today would have been opening night for Little Shop of Horrors. Most days I’m at peace with events, but today feels a little more gray and upsetting. Thus, I’m partly processing that sadness with a special double feature of Squad Pod. Standby for copious amounts of gushing.

Today I feature my two incredible assistants, Amber Meadows and Ray Dondero. I don’t think I can possibly convey just how incredible these two women are as people, and how much they did to make this process a success. Assistants are absolutely the unsung ninja heroes of the design community. While the designer is busy producing content and determining how things are going to work, the assistants are a whirlwind of skilled activity producing the materials that showcase the designer’s thoughts. In my own work, I tend to load my assistants with a lot of model building and keeping after the administration on the props.

The first chat posted is with my Lead Assistant (/Associate/Lifesaver/ Boss Sprout) Amber Meadows. Truly, this woman is a marvel, and a recent friendship has grown deep and fast between us. If there is one person I knew I could rely on with full confidence and no reservation, it’s Amber. She is a first year grad student, an incredibly gifted artist, and wonderful friend. Check out her website at ambermeadowsdesign , she is going places!

Fave Pic of Amber and myself

Early Version of the Shop Built by Amber (Exterior)

Early Version of the Shop Built by Amber (Interior)

Closeup of Dentist Office Unit/ Unit and Chair kitted and built by Amber

Closeup of Final Shop/ Shop, and many of those tiny little bitty pieces were built/colored/painted/applied with very careful tweezer work by Amber

Disclaimers, Clarifications, and Corrections: These recordings are done as informal and unedited chats among friends and colleagues and therefore there are various sound quality issues that one would expect with an amateur recording (i.e. sound garble, having to stop and start because neighbors are loud etc.). Also, we carried out all model making tasks for this project SAFELY AND WITHOUT INCIDENT. Amber and I definitely make light of past mistakes where we had minor mishaps with our Exacto knives, but that was not the case in this process.

In this Episode of KP Gaffe/s: You all are now aural witnesses of one of the strangest crossed wires in my brain; every time I try to reference the movie Spinal Tap I always say Full Metal Jacket instead. I know this makes absolutely no sense whatsoever; they are two movies completely void of any similarity to each other that would excuse the mixup. Still, it happens to me every single time I try and say it and I have no explanation. So enjoy one of the many strange quirks that can come out in a conversation with me.

The next recording is a chat with my second assistant, Ray Dondero (/Superhero/Ninja Sprout). Ray and I go way back by school standards because she had been my assistant on the show right before Little Shop. That show was Wolves and we made a really fantastic team. Ray is junior working towards her BFA and she is lightening quick with everything I throw at her. Model work iss always accomplished cleanly and with care, and she did a lot of the leg work with props on both shows. Keep in mind that the props book she put together for Little Shop was a little over 60 pages and that was on top of other projects I gave her. She also accomplished some beautiful mockups of initial set dressing ideas in photoshop using early model photos. Working with Ray on my team was just as fantastic as the first time around and I highly recommend checking out her website raydondero and keeping an eye out for her on the scene as well!

A shot of me and my lovely assistant from the opening night of our first show working together Wolves

Early Dentist Unit/ Unit and Lamp built by Ray

Set Dressing Mockup/ Model staged by Ray and then she used Photoshop to place in other details and labels

Set Dressing Mockup for Act 2/ Ray used the same process described in the previous caption

Disclaimers, Clarifications, and Corrections: Aside from reiterating the earlier disclaimers, keep in mind that this particular chat was the very first recording I made. There is definitely an element of me being a little fumbly. I want to thank Ray for her enduring patience and kindness, and being willing to play the guinea pig for this part of the project.

Squad Pod: #1 A Chat with Puppetry

Duration: 1 HR 2MIN

It is my distinct pleasure to introduce another facet of my showcase for the COVID-canceled production of Little Shop of Horrors, that would have been opening tomorrow April 24th 2020 at the Harriet S. Jorgensen Theatre presented by the Connecticut Repertory Theatre. I have discussed in previous posts that the team on this project was exceptional (at least in my humble opinion). I introduced you to the team in the post Episode 2: Meet the Squad, but I really wanted for others to actually hear from them. So, I’m recording conversations with various members of the creative team and I am posting that audio under the title Squad Pod. On this inaugural episode of Squad Pod I thought it only fitting to start with the puppetry team who was responsible for the design and performance of the many puppets created to make up the character of Audrey 2. I had a really good time chatting with these two incredible artists and I can’t wait to have another project in the future where we can play together again!!!

****IN ADDITION: If you are viewing this post today (April 23rd) before 7PM EST, definitely check out the interview that Will and Rob (puppet designers for our Little Shop) are doing with Martin Robinson who is the puppet artist who designed the original puppets for Little Shop of Horrors. You can find this interview on the Facebook Page for The Ballard Institute and Museum of Puppetry. If you are reading this after April 23rd, then hopefully the link will take you to the video of the interview to enjoy!

Disclaimers, Corrections, and Clarifications

General Disclaimers: This audio is by no means professionally recorded. These are unedited conversations carried out over Zoom in one take; thus there are the various sound quality issues you might anticipate (i.e. faulty internet connections, internal computer microphones etc.). Also, these episodes are conducted as an informal discussion among friends and colleagues, therefore they are comprised mostly of opinion based on recollection and not to be misconstrued as declarative finalities (in other words, we’re just chatting and talking about how we feel about our work. We are by no means trying to come off as the “only right” on any topic we cover).

Clarifications and Corrections: During the chat I identify Ed Weingart as the “technical director.” To be clear, Ed is the Assistant Professor of Technical Direction and departmental Technical Director. Kimberly Kinan is the second year MFA candidate in technical direction who was assigned as the Technical Director to this production of Little Shop of Horrors. Ed is her mentor and he also agreed to take on assisting the puppet designers specifically with fabricating the mechanism structure for the pod portion of the largest version of Audrey 2.4.

This Episode’s KP gaffe/s: I really do know who Howard Ashman is everyone, I swear it’s just the isolation fumes getting to my brain. Also, the random measurements I throw out concerning the Jorgensen are guesses that I am making wildly without checking back at my drafting. This is why I need models and my drafting, girl cannot remember everything off the cuff.

And now for a fun stroll down the progress photos Will would send me while he was working. These always made my day so much better, and I hope they do the same for you now:

Early Model of Audrey 2 Possibility

Puppet 1 Progress

Finished Puppet 1

Puppet 2 in Progress

Puppet 2 Further Progress

Finished Puppet 2

Puppet 3 Progress

Puppet 3 Further Progress

And that’s all I got folks! Tune in to the rest of the showcase for the final model photos that have a mini version of what Puppet 3 roughly might have looked like finished!

Episode 3 (Part 2): My Own Research for Little Shop

My personal research process in 2020 (obviously I started this project in 2019, but semantics) usually starts with a Pinterest dive. Please don’t cringe! (that’s mostly for my mentor if he ever reads this, please give me a chance). Pinterest is a deep abyss of image overload and I find it useful for the initial “falling” as I like to call it. I just wind my way down, through, around, and I don’t sensor my impulses for a couple hours. I use it to generate hundreds of “sparks” or potential “paths.” I am not looking for a particular “door” at present, I am just running through as many as I can to see which will offer a working world.

After that first dive, I select things that sing together, that all appear to cohesively look like they belong together. Then, I try and source those images; is this from a certain artist? Can I search more of their work specifically? Did this one come from a book? Can I find that book in one of the many libraries I’m apart of? etc.

On the hunt for images, books are worth their weight in opals. Books are already collections of related things gathered together in a single place so you don’t have to go to the trouble of building from scratch (and funnily enough, a lot easier to make a citation for later in an MFA Project). Still, it can sometimes be tricky to find that perfect book. Even spending hours perusing our art section in the school library isn’t always fruitful; hence why something like the internet or Pinterest, which will sometimes list that book title or artist name to start can be magical.

But, I don’t just use images. I really love to understand the worlds we are trying to build. What is it about the 80’s in American cities that’s special? What actually is Skid Row? What did life look like for people like Audrey and Seymour in a city in that time? For myself, I read a number of articles, but I also respond to audio research. Specifically for this production, I listened to the podcast 99% Invisible’s episode titled Containment Plan. This episode was about the original Skid Row out in LA, and how the city and a group of activists came to an agreement that the Skid Row area (its residents and services) would be kept to a certain few blocks and not spill into the surrounding neighborhoods. This particular piece fascinated me because, while we were definitely going with a more East Coast NYC styled place, the whole idea of people being “contained” within this small piece of the city informed so much of how I wanted our Skid Row to feel.

I wandered the highways and byways of the internet, paged through articles about hostile architecture, listened to podcasts and ultimately, pictures began to emerge. If I were to show you the whole lot of images I initially flagged….well I’m not so no worries. Below, I have curated some of the best and the brightest, the ones that I kept coming back to over and over as the design progressed. They are divided into categories of Skid Row, the Shop, and the Dentist’s office.

Skid Row Research Collage 1

Skid Row Research Collage 2

Shop Research Collage

Dentist Office Collage

I think it fair to disclose that I made these collages recently. They are compiled from images that I found initially in the first research pass, as well as those I collected along the way as various adjustments were made through collaboration. In case it didn’t read clearly throughout these posts, I love this phase. It’s a joy to go on the hunt for the exact visuals that give you the information you need to build the show. Especially in this present time where I am blessed beyond all measure with a wealth of information and resources that I have the privilege to access and utilize to further my art. Truly, what a wild time to be alive.

Episode 3 (Part 1): Research

When you hear the word “research” it might bring to mind flipping through pages and pages of books and articles, grabbing paragraphs and sentences that you can appropriately cite in your bibliography of a very organized paper. Or perhaps you consider it more scientifically; running trials and experiments, gathering data to support your hypothesis.

For a designer, research is somewhat like that. Books are often involved and there is definitely a lot of reading. We are also on the hunt to gather data to prove a hypothesis; in this case, that a design thesis can work. However, we aren’t building a bibliography, but a planet. For the scenic designer, we are mostly looking for images that resonate with what we are thinking about for our “vision” of the play.

Think of each script kind of like that moment in the movie Monster’s Inc. where Sully, Mike, and Boo come through the conveyor belt and see thousands upon thousands of doors before them. Each script holds a multiverse of options, or doors, that the team can open and explore in order to communicate the story. Researching for the designer is the moment where we can gleefully open a whole bunch of doors and explore their possibilities, finding the paths that will ultimately serve our needs best for this project.

Image from the movie Monster’s Inc. (Disney and Pixar)

Now, it’s very important to understand that in American theatre the vision is very heavily influenced by one individual; the director. The relationship between director and designer is absolutely crucial for creating a cohesive design. For me, my focus is making sure that I am an ally to the director, that I am doing everything I can to listen to their wants and needs and then translate that into a design that will satisfy aesthetic and function.

In the case of Little Shop, Dexter was very clear about two things from the beginning:

-He wanted the show to be set in the 80’s

- He was very strongly inspired by B-Movies, particularly horror movies from that era. He also said he really liked the aesthetic and feel of the Netflix series Stranger Things.

80’s Horror Movie Poster Collage (not original to this post’s author)

Stranger Things Poster used for Universal’s Halloween Horror Nights (not original to this post’s author)

So, now I toddle off my merry way to research. Not only is researching necessary for me to start moving my own thoughts on how things should look and feel, but this is the way I can start sharing language of the world with my director. It’s always an interesting dance because as a designer, I can see the world in so many potential pictures moving at a thousand miles an hour for every moment; endless possibilities and doors. For the director, they need a way to see what I’m seeing so they can decide if what I have to offer can work with how they want to move bodies in that space. We have to find a door into a world that works for all; so I look for images that accurately portray the paths I think might work, and then the director picks which one we will walk.

Episode 1: The Script

“…a picture is worth a thousand words, make sure they’re the playwrights.”

Wendall Harrington

First page of text from my script of Little Shop

Words on a page, the first parameters for building a world.

Now, there are some fundamental tools of script analysis that most theatre artists are equipped to use regardless of focus. I’m not going to go through those here because this is a design-centric theatre tale. Suffice it to say, if you are interested in such things, do look up David Balls book Backwards and Forwards.

How do I personally go about script analysis specifically for design? Well, I go in with a foundational question: what do we need to tell the story? Some concrete things that I look for in every script to start helping flesh that answer are:

• Stage Directions (***Please note, the stage directions are a little like the pirate’s code in that they are more like “guidelines.” Sometimes an estate or still living playwright will rigidly dictate that stage directions can’t be altered in any production. More often, however, one is allowed to treat them with a degree of discretion. I tend to look at them to get an idea of how the progenitor originally conceptualized a moment, and because they sometimes subsequently incite what I discuss in the next bullet…)

• What is said by the characters (This is a little less elastic then stage directions, but still can be interpreted with some discretion. Ex: a character may say, “Would you look at the time‽” which could mean there is a clock in view…or maybe it’s through a doorway to a room leading offstage, or a wristwatch…again, definitely more pressing then the stage directions, but still some room to wiggle depending on what the director is looking for in the moment.)

I usually go by a rule of three reads at least when I get a script. The first read: try and just read the piece for what it is (don’t turn on the design brain, just react to the piece as is). Second time: I start notating any words I don’t know, putting in questions (does the director see this as inside or outside? Clarify how we want to make this work etc.). The third time is where I’ll start sketching little thumbnails in the margins and getting a little more designer-y (ex. how can we show the contrast of how this character is processing their inner darkness in this moment of death as opposed to their complete jubilation later when they return from the depths of despair….yeah, my teenage anxt self can come back in my notes, don’t judge).

Soooo, Little Shop of Horrors is a wild show with a wild script to match. Musicals, to start, already present their own special challenges. They often have:

• Multiple locations

• You have to shift through to those locations very quickly and seamlessly because, tempo people!

• You have to style the world so that it’s a place where people believably express themselves through song on a regular basis.

• Often there is a large-ish cast (**Little Shop is somewhat an exception here. We were going to have 12 people in our production, but that was because we fleshed out a small ensemble. I have seen the show done with just 8 people).

• Practically, you have make sure the scenery supports the action and the choreography.

Little Shop has all these fun things plus one teeny tiny extra thing; A VERY LARGE AND VERY ACTIVE PUPPET.

To be specific (in our show) four puppets. Three out of those four need to very strongly interact with the set. Especially the final puppet, the largest one that has to successfully eat three people live onstage (one of whom is running at full speed into it with a machete, but, meh, details) safely and effectively. This isn’t even getting into the practicality of how we seamlessly move these various puppets on and offstage without audience seeing the moves…nope we aren’t even close to thinking about that yet.

At the point where I got through my three readings of the script, I found myself of two minds.

The first:

UMMMMMMMMM………..

And the second:

EEEEEEEE!!!!!

This is an iconic musical. This is one that holds a warm place in the hearts of many, including my own. The music is just good!! I mean, it has so few reprisals, the whole show is full of new songs that span the gamut in style and yet all work beautifully. The plot is macabre and utterly ridiculous, but it does beg the questions that are close and uncomfortable; how far would you go to gain financial security? To never have to worry about anything ever again? To be adored and held in esteem for no other reason than you own something unique? How far would you go to escape poverty, abuse, and danger to achieve the promise of love, prosperity, and a bright future? The show is whimsical, but it’s not fluffy.

This is where I got to in my analysis of the script. I had some ideas about what we were going to need. But, before I could clarify and move on I obviously had very important people I needed to start being in close concert with from here on out; the director and the rest of the creative team.

Lost and Found (A "thesis" story)

OFFICIAL DESIGN ASSIGNMENT OFFER

This was the email I’d been waiting for.

To briefly to introduce you to the circumstances I’m an MFA candidate in Scenic Design at the University of Connecticut. Part of the deal is that I’m technically a designer in residence for the Connecticut Repertory Theatre for the academic year. Myself and my fellow grad students, and sometimes undergraduate, are often the ones designing the various aspects of the shows that are produced by CRT outside of the Nutmeg summer shows. In our third year of grad school, one of our show assignments also acts as our MFA Project (which we refer to as our “thesis” show even though technically it’s a Master’s Project). In addition to fully designing a realized production in the season, we produce a “book” that catalogs our whole process and all the pertinent materials necessary to our design. We then have to present that documentation and discuss our work with a committee that then formally determines if we have successfully accomplished our Project.

Little Shop of Horrors presented at the Harriet S. Jorgensen Theatre by the Connecticut Repertory Theatre, is my MFA Project. The email above was the official confirmation of that assignment. I smiled wide when I got it. Little Shop holds a warm place in my heart, and I knew it would be a “thesis” worthy challenge. Plus, there was some fun history with the director that I will reveal in later posts. I knew it was a beast of a show. I was already anxious about whether I could actually meet the demands it required. Still, I’d wanted it badly. It was mine, and I was going to do my utmost to make it amazing.

Obviously….some things are different now. I find myself in the place of many of my fellow theatre artists. Our show is canceled as a complication of COVID19 prevention measures. This is painful. The creative team has been working actively together on this production since November 15th of 2019; some of us had been working on it since April of that same year. We had just gotten to the point where we had first rehearsals and we were just beginning production of the scenery and other elements. It was going to be a really good show. The cast was excellent, the production facilities new and ready to handle the scale of the show, and the designs…..they were all quite stellar. Another casualty among the myriad of consequences that I’m sure we will still be navigating years from now.

I have mourned for that unrealized piece of my work. I was deeply excited to see it in motion; more excited than I’ve really admitted even to those closest to me because I cry ugly and I prefer to to do that in private. Now, though, what’s left? Actually, quite a lot.

See, I’m really lucky. I’ve done a huge amount of work, all the creative team has. We’ve been living with this show since November (design process at CRT is quite long), and for me that means I’ve produced 3/4 of the materials that I would have ultimately needed for my show in full. I have pages of research images, sketches, a veritable graveyard of model pieces, a fully colored (and darn good looking) color model, a completed drafting package, detailed paint elevations, and miles of photographic proof that this design was real. I’m sad that I won’t be able to include pictures of the pieces coming to life full size. I won’t be able to gasp in delight as the actors interact with the world we made, but, all is not sadness.

My Project is safe (i.e. I can still present and graduate on time) because thankfully it’s set up to be flexible. So long as I did the work (and oh I most definitely did!), I can’t be penalized for something as unprecedented as a pandemic. “In fact,” my mentor told me in a phone conversation not long after the school moved to online and the show was canceled, “documenting and responding to this event will make your thesis probably more interesting and unique than what anyone would have imagined previously.” I heard the subtle message intertwined in his already blatant encouragement; this is a rough situation that could prove a unique opportunity, use it.

And so, I am. I’m taking this space to open up my process. I’m going to walk through the wild places of how the scenic design for this show came into being and show you, to the best of my abilities, what that design would have looked like had you had the opportunity to see the production. Obviously, no paltry model photos or orderly drafting will ever equal seeing a production. However, I would pose these questions to you; how often do you really get to see the design process showcased? How often does a designer stop to really show all the pieces that went into the model box in the display case at the end? Also, how often do we find ourselves with a little more time to actually explore that process in such detail?

This journey is not just about me. It’s also about my collaborators. Sure I want to show you the process of my design, but more than half that process is inextricably tied to the relationships that I share with my collaborators. We have our specialties, but we are an ecosystem where every design decision profoundly affects everyone else’s choices. How we make those choices together and as individuals is what makes our art form unique. This team was amazing and I want to use this showcase to give you a glimpse of how the way we work together is really the thing that makes our work something worth seeing.

I will be showing and telling in detail. I hope you can see how hard we worked to bring you something wonderful. Even though this is a shadow of a thing deferred, this is the way I want you to see my work. This is my MFA Project, a culmination of three years of grueling labor to become better at my craft. I am proud of this. And so, from here, the posts will showcase parts of the process and the people in that process. Welcome to the Shop!