Tag Archives: hair

Paper Tech

7 Jun

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The best night of Hell Week, is technically the first one.

Paper Tech.

…Where the show’s sound, light and cues are plotted and planned by the design and run crews. 

This mean: Actors- OFF.

…It’s usually the only night we get, ‘tween now and the last performance of Opening Weekend.  A fairly brutal run of everythings added onto everything else and slammed up against tons of new toys and clothes and props to side-track you, and not quite enough sleep to process it all.  Tempers sometimes get short, a zillion tiny details you might not have thought about or planned for are suddenly right in your face with immediate answers needed, everyone is hot from too many lights and no air ventallation…and for reasons I will never understand, this makes everyone like everyone else a lot more.

…It’s that old “Band of Brothers” adage.

So tonight, while our tech crews battle on paper, and our costumers battle with needle n’ thread, we actors battle our lines (some more), before tomorrow morning’s first call.  Costume Parade, followed by cue-to-cue, followed by (one hopes) drinking.

…Personally, I’ve just finished fighting the yoga ball, after spending about two hours listening to Benny Goodman and figuring out some hair styles that’ll work with my super-awesome hats (one of which Mdm. Costumer let me take home for just that occasion.) 

We are going to look so ridiculously delicious, it’s just ridiculous.

…And now: I’m off for a shower, and some read time before the Zzz’s take me.

…Take me HARD.

I hope they leave me no mercy.

Long days ahead.

~D

If The Boat Sinks, Just Use Your Hat

20 May

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Tentatively off book, and blocked the second to the final scene tonight.

Tomorrow brings on the “big reveal.”

…Time to start thinking speed, clean-cuts, pointed asides, and play with the full register of vocal and body movements so we can find what we like and add it to the tool kit.

Head out of the book: it’s play time.

…Also getting the itch to start working with my hair design, after watching all those extraordinary wigs from “Mr. Selfridge” all weekend. 

Doing Gibson Girls of that range are incredibly difficult on yourself…not to mention exhausting on the arms, for all the reaching and pinning and curling and spraying and teasing and ratting required in order to build it.  Astonishing esthetic and silhouettes. Totally worth it.  Though, I should be mindful NOW, that I’ll be moving about ten pounds of hats and hair around while onstage with me at all times, which will make fast turns, and certain postures, pretty impossible.

…Dearest Jack is about 6’2″…(which might as well be 7’9″ for all that height will mean in our love scenes.) I shall be getting quite familiar with his belly button, in future, I suppose…as looking up that high, without a hair-and-hat land-slide, will be damn near impossible.

Lucky for our ever-so-great grandmothers, they grew the men shorter in those days.

…But even still, they must have had necks of steel by age 30.

…Presumably to match their rib cages.

In Other News: Began second trailer today.

…Which reminded me that I hadn’t shown you the first one yet.

…So, here:

In the meantime, I think I’m off for some hot tea and a bit of a read.

~D

Twits & Set Pieces

21 Mar

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I’ve done it now.  Have joined Twitter. 

…But never under any circumstances in order to post or update it. 

I just want to stalk famous people. 

So in answer to your question: no, I won’t be giving out my handle.  It doesn’t matter anyway. Because, as of right now, I can’t understand a cocking word that is written on the damn thing.

…I’d be totally useless to you at this point.

It’s like html coding for fucks sake.

…At first I just thought it was Stephen Fry being Stephen Fry with this 3000% more intelligence than me, posting witticisms that were just too far over my head.

…But then, I can’t understand but about half of Jennifer Saunders’ tweets either.  And not that she is exactly of the average brainage herself, but I figured at least her humor stylings were of the norm-masses and I’d be in on it.

…Which I am.  But only the parts not involving 30 numbers and random punctuation marks.

…And then there are re-tweets.  And random links.  And this whole abbreviation language I don’t understand.

Clearly, I’ll be googling a lot this afternoon, just to figure all this shit out.

…See!  This is why I didn’t want to join up in the first place!  I have enough jobs to do as it is!!

…Meanwhile:  There have been crazy wind and hail storms slamming the shit out of my office by day, and Harriet on the freeway by night.  It’s frickin’ freezing everywhere I go…so all heaters in the all the environments that I have control over have been blaring non-stop for a little over 48 hours.  I don’t even want to think about my electric bill next month. 

…So I won’t.

Done with work-and-runs at the theatre until Sunday, as the theatre has a music gig taking over.  Which should be interesting on our current stage set.  What do you suppose the theme for that concert would be? I dunno.

…But speaking of the set: It’s coming along quickly.  New pieces in every day, first two layers of paint up, primed and ready for final coat and distressing.  They keep adding more and more furniture pieces, filling in absolutely every crack and cranny. By next rehearsal, they will be finished with the paint and start adding in the dressings for details…loading up the cupboards, bringing in the bed linens, all the little tchotchkes, framed photos, sewing stuffs, cooking utensils, books, bathroom items,work papers and files, and our personal props. We’ll be shoved in like sardines by the end…exactly as it should be.

Last night was a focus on stage combat for all falls, fights, and quick moves…taking up a surprising amount of time, as you don’t exactly think of this show as running heavy in those details, but it actually is. Especially when you consider how every square inch is filled with people or furniture, to knock into, stairs and platforms to fall off of, doors to slam your hands in, and a perpetual graveyard of screws and nails hiding just out of sight to knick your fingers, or barefoot feet, no matter how careful they are in sweeping before call.

…For now, we wait until Sunday. Press photos, costume fittings…meaning I’ve gotta figure out m’hair and face soonish. Need to dye it tonight prob’ly…bust out the hot curlers and some German period photos and have at it. Really liked Corinna Harfouch’s very German “doo” as Magda Goebbels in “Downfall,” (which I was streaming the other day.) Very elegant, and European versus the more youthful Americanized victory-curled look we had over here.
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…Also, because it requires a “rat,” it will help to hold the style in place through sleeping scenes and quick costumes changes without falling all limp to hell. Then, by act two, it’ll be let more loose and less “kept.” Mrs. VD is very specific about her style, until the support products for achieving it are no longer made available to her. This will also visually soften her up a bit, as she emotionally begins to legitimately break down.

…It’s like: I have a cunning plan or something.

😉

~D

First Dress

4 Nov

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Hello civilians, and welcome to first dress rehearsal. 

…Our call is late, due to blocking of the the theatre’s follow-up Holiday show taking place on the same stage, directly before our call.  In short: the December show is running about on our stage right now, (as we once did to “Sherlock”)…and will continue until 4:30…at which time we begin arriving in shifts in various states of makeup and hair, to tag-team, sort out some adjustment fittings, and ship things directly out into the makeshift on-site alteration and stitching department currently holding state in the lobby. 

…As of yesterday’s costume parade, I had nothing to wear but my corset, shoes, and stockings. They are still piecing my blacks together, built in copy pattern to a gray dress I tried on a little over a week ago, whose color was veto’d but style and fitting was approved.  Will be doing my hair and makeup at home, to avoid time-crunch and also have a slew of my own outlets for various curlers and irons, as I invent the styles to begin with. Plenty of elbow room, music, and pictorial inspiration on the internet, ready on my computer, at click-command.

…Also, right now: a stew is cooking in the crockpot.

Got up this morning to make a cup of coffee, and feed meat and veg into the slow-cooker, before surveying the damage of last night’s spur-of-the-moment mini party. 

A couple of casties, (post eats, post cue-to-cue), didn’t want to give up the ghost quite yet…so I rushed home to prep their arrival, and make sure we had enough mixers.  Many talks on many subjects, with “Anonymous” on in the background, a shared stogie on the back patio, a trip planning thrown out there, and YouTube vomits of the most ridiculous videos we know of, that we feel compelled to force other people to watch and thus be forever equally scarred from, for life.

…Marty, I think, wins for that South African husband and wife freak-team.  And you can wonder at all it’s wrongs here, should you choose. (Their “Ninja” one is as least as horrifying.)

I need more coffee, but the last bag of beans has been killed, and I mourned it, even before this one cup was done perking. Thus, I am forced into tea…which is lovely when you want tea, but when you want “coffee” there is no solace to that desire unless you feed it what it demands.

Coffee is very S&M that way.

4 hours and 24 minutes left on the stew clock, and a sink-and-a-half of dirty dishes to see to.

…But first: heat some water, pop in some “Shakespeare In Love” or “Stage Beauty” or “Henry V” or “Richard III”…or any of the eleven-hundred others keeping to the current theme…take a walk, take a shower, and set my hair to begin the regime.

This is one of those days where you spend almost all of it, just prepping for the end-game…as first dresses always have, and always will be.

~D

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