Week 16: It Fits
July 17, 2012
17 February 2012
Intelligent Life magazine asked the women of the acting company 'Which decade of fashion best suits you?' If they'd asked me, I would have said the 1930s. Give me a pair of high-waisted pleated trousers that gently billow towards the shoe, and I'm a happy camper.
Designer Jon Bausor must have read my mind when drawing up my Twelfth Night costume. He has given me (as Curio) a bespoke 1930s-esque suit, made of olive tweed sourced from Belgium, with a green shirt, red braces, and a thin red bow tie. Curio is meant to be a wealthy young fashionista, and, accordingly, my costume (made by Keith Watson) is one of the finest pieces of craftsmanship I have ever worn.
'Well, I'll put it on, and I will dissemble myself in't, and I would I were the first that ever dissembled in such a gown.'
(Twelfth Night. IV. ii. 4-6.)
Costume fittings can be some of the best, or worst moments of the creative process. Sometimes the designer can include you in conversations about what you will wear. If not, you can only hope the designer has chosen a costume that correlates with your character choices.
Of course, an actor can (and some do) tell the designer they don't agree with the choices that have been made. But if this happens as late as at fittings, there had better be a very good reason to find, or make, something completely different.
Jon and his designs were right on the money.
The costumes have been in the making for months, but most of the final fittings—18 actors, in three plays, into almost 130 costumes — were done in one day. Jon hopped between five stations headed up by Costume Supervisors Laura Hunt and Hannah Lynnly Lobelson, Assistant Holly White and an army of wardrobe specialists.
For the actors, it is not a time for modesty. I was in and out of costumes in front of four or five people, ushered, in my pants, from one station to another. Everyone had their critical eyes on: actors, makers, and designers know this is the last chance to make serious changes before the costumes hit the stage. The stage managers enforced the deadline pressure to make decisions, armed with intricate, colour-coded timetables. Rehearsals ran concurrent with fittings.
After my Curio fitting, I visited Head of Men's Costume Emma Harrup, who spent the morning fitting seven identical suits for The Tempest. In a semi-Biblical reference, Jon decided that Prospero would clothe Caliban, Ariel and the other four spirits like himself.
These suits were boiled by the RSC dying department, headed by Helen Hughes. The boiled suits were then plunged in cold water to make them warp (incidentally, the exact recipe for ruining a jumper in the wash). Then Emma sewed dyed horsehair canvas into the front panel to make it look like the outer layer of fabric had fallen off, and the new construction was boiled and plunged in cold water again.
The finished suits are a reference to prison camps. Emma said she would normally construct the suits herself, but when the department found out how they were to be 'distressed' they opted for a store-bought version. I say, 'fair enough.'
The RSC makes most of its bespoke costumes in-house, but the enormity of the task—premiering three productions at once—meant that some work had to be out-sourced to highly-skilled industry freelancers. For The Tempest, Andrea Moon was brought in to craft five organdy (according to Wikipedia, it's the most sheer and crisp form of cotton) suits the spirits will wear when we appear as 'a nymph o'th' sea' (I. ii. 302). Lee Cranston was commissioned to make four individually-fitted wolf masks.
There was a lot of oohing and aahing as each creation appeared from the frock room, particularly for David Plunkett's ivory silk wedding dress to be worn by Kirsty Bushell as Olivia in Twelfth Night, and the haute-couture inspired gowns crafted by Head of Ladies' Costume Denise Edwards and her team for spirits Juno, Ceres, and Iris in The Tempest.
In the plays I will wear 10 different costumes, which, when completed, will be handed to the Running Wardrobe department and its army of dressers for use and maintenance during the shows.
It's a massive undertaking that's far from done. Eventually all the understudies will be fitted for replica costumes for all the roles.
'Look what wardrobe here is for thee!' (The Tempest IV. i. 223-224.)
Photo by Felix Hayes: My bespoke tweed suit for Twelfth Night.
by Ankur Bahl
| 2 comments
Share this