Production Planning
I have to get serious about some costumes today. Or, at least, this weekend.
For one thing, there's that whole Halloween event coming up, and I've got a child. Now, to my surprise, Pittsburgh turns out to celebrate Halloween even more extravagantly than San Francisco does -- in SF there will be a lot of hoopla, granted, but it will be, except for the kids, sort of localized. But Pittsburgh -- sheesh! Allegheny county in its entirety will be setting out realistic corpses in the front yards, pinning autumnal wreaths on all the doors, setting up elaborate gloomy light and sound shows that get set off the moment the hapless traveller sets foot on the sidewalk -- in the years I lived in San Francisco I was very proud to be part of the great Halloween celebrations. But when I got here I was humbled to discover to find myself in a community that considers the event to be, basically, a Decorating Opportunity for Everybody, and humbled also to discover that if you put the entire collective mind of an entire city to the point, you get a lot more mileage out of the holiday.
Well. I'm no good at that part, too bad. Sam will carve an elaborate jack-o-lantern. That will be our sole contribution. No ghastly skeletons rising from the ground accompanied by eerie electronic music, though I think they've got one next door.
But the child. The child requires preparation.
We've got all his earlier costumes around here somewhere -- the ladybug costume I made for him when he was one year old -- nice, that, with a foam-rubber shell -- the Teletubbies costume I made for him the next year, the Captain Hook costume I made the year after that, the elaborate wizard's robe he wore while representing Harry Potter -- got two years out of that one -- and the Indian costume in which he pretended to be Little Bear, from The Indian in the Cupboard. I see, looking back on it, that we've had a sort of literary theme going here for a while; guess that's understandable, in the circumstances.
This year I told him that if he wanted a bought costume it wouldn't hurt my feelings, I would understand -- subtle, don't you think? But no, no, he said, bought costumes weren't as nice, and weren't as well made. True, though I didn't think he would know that, at the age of 7.
Ok. So I need to construct "Perseus Carrying the Head of Medusa."
The Perseus part is easy -- the Medusa head a little more complicated. I'm using one of those plastic pumpkin-shaped Halloween loot-carrying tubs, and I'm going to cover it, give it a Medusa-like face, and stick plastic snakes all around the top, and then he can both carry it and stick the candy in it.
Fine.
I also have to figure out the costume plan for Wit and Science (an hilarious morality play concerning how to get the most from your study time), which the Medieval and Renaissance Players are performing in November, as part of the 125th-year anniversary celebrations for the University in general and the College of Arts in specific. I am the faculty advisor for the Players, which means that I sign a lot of papers which come my way, but, more importantly, that I say, "Hey! Sounds great!" when people think things up.
Ok, that's not all. I do design, and sometimes sew, the costumes, and I do give advice. One of my students said yesterday, you're the Historian for the Players, right? and I like that title. Yes. I'm the Historian.
Here's how I operate, in production consultations:
Director and Producer: Hey! Wit and Science is a hall play! Let's stage it in the ballroom, with tables, and have snacks!
Me: Ok!
Director and Producer: Yes! That'll be great! And we can use the food in comedy bits! It'll be funny!
Me: Ok!
Director and Producer: Yes! And let's serve New World food, cause the whole dealing-with-the-New-World/exploration thing was a big deal in 1540!
Me: Ok....
Director and Producer: Popcorn, for instance! Popcorn would be great! People will love it! And it'll be funny!
Me: Wait. They were not eating popcorn in England in 1540.
Director and Producer: Yes they were!
Me: No. They weren't.
Director and Producer: Yes, but they'd discovered the New World! They were eating popcorn!
Me: No, no, no, no, no, no. They were not. Discovering things is not the same as getting them over across the sea and getting everybody to eat them. It takes a while. Look -- calling up "history of popcorn" on AskJeeves.com -- 1590. No popcorn till 1590. That's a whole damn 50 years later than the play.
Director and Producer: But popcorn would be great! Can't we have it anyway?
Me: Ok, just as long as we don't think it's historically correct.
That's me. A stickler for the details.
For one thing, there's that whole Halloween event coming up, and I've got a child. Now, to my surprise, Pittsburgh turns out to celebrate Halloween even more extravagantly than San Francisco does -- in SF there will be a lot of hoopla, granted, but it will be, except for the kids, sort of localized. But Pittsburgh -- sheesh! Allegheny county in its entirety will be setting out realistic corpses in the front yards, pinning autumnal wreaths on all the doors, setting up elaborate gloomy light and sound shows that get set off the moment the hapless traveller sets foot on the sidewalk -- in the years I lived in San Francisco I was very proud to be part of the great Halloween celebrations. But when I got here I was humbled to discover to find myself in a community that considers the event to be, basically, a Decorating Opportunity for Everybody, and humbled also to discover that if you put the entire collective mind of an entire city to the point, you get a lot more mileage out of the holiday.
Well. I'm no good at that part, too bad. Sam will carve an elaborate jack-o-lantern. That will be our sole contribution. No ghastly skeletons rising from the ground accompanied by eerie electronic music, though I think they've got one next door.
But the child. The child requires preparation.
We've got all his earlier costumes around here somewhere -- the ladybug costume I made for him when he was one year old -- nice, that, with a foam-rubber shell -- the Teletubbies costume I made for him the next year, the Captain Hook costume I made the year after that, the elaborate wizard's robe he wore while representing Harry Potter -- got two years out of that one -- and the Indian costume in which he pretended to be Little Bear, from The Indian in the Cupboard. I see, looking back on it, that we've had a sort of literary theme going here for a while; guess that's understandable, in the circumstances.
This year I told him that if he wanted a bought costume it wouldn't hurt my feelings, I would understand -- subtle, don't you think? But no, no, he said, bought costumes weren't as nice, and weren't as well made. True, though I didn't think he would know that, at the age of 7.
Ok. So I need to construct "Perseus Carrying the Head of Medusa."
The Perseus part is easy -- the Medusa head a little more complicated. I'm using one of those plastic pumpkin-shaped Halloween loot-carrying tubs, and I'm going to cover it, give it a Medusa-like face, and stick plastic snakes all around the top, and then he can both carry it and stick the candy in it.
Fine.
I also have to figure out the costume plan for Wit and Science (an hilarious morality play concerning how to get the most from your study time), which the Medieval and Renaissance Players are performing in November, as part of the 125th-year anniversary celebrations for the University in general and the College of Arts in specific. I am the faculty advisor for the Players, which means that I sign a lot of papers which come my way, but, more importantly, that I say, "Hey! Sounds great!" when people think things up.
Ok, that's not all. I do design, and sometimes sew, the costumes, and I do give advice. One of my students said yesterday, you're the Historian for the Players, right? and I like that title. Yes. I'm the Historian.
Here's how I operate, in production consultations:
Director and Producer: Hey! Wit and Science is a hall play! Let's stage it in the ballroom, with tables, and have snacks!
Me: Ok!
Director and Producer: Yes! That'll be great! And we can use the food in comedy bits! It'll be funny!
Me: Ok!
Director and Producer: Yes! And let's serve New World food, cause the whole dealing-with-the-New-World/exploration thing was a big deal in 1540!
Me: Ok....
Director and Producer: Popcorn, for instance! Popcorn would be great! People will love it! And it'll be funny!
Me: Wait. They were not eating popcorn in England in 1540.
Director and Producer: Yes they were!
Me: No. They weren't.
Director and Producer: Yes, but they'd discovered the New World! They were eating popcorn!
Me: No, no, no, no, no, no. They were not. Discovering things is not the same as getting them over across the sea and getting everybody to eat them. It takes a while. Look -- calling up "history of popcorn" on AskJeeves.com -- 1590. No popcorn till 1590. That's a whole damn 50 years later than the play.
Director and Producer: But popcorn would be great! Can't we have it anyway?
Me: Ok, just as long as we don't think it's historically correct.
That's me. A stickler for the details.
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