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Springtime costuming

Costuming post to fit the season.

This birch costume was made for the original play En rackarns långhelg at the Stockholm City Theatre.  It’s iso mat and foam at the core (don’t want any too rigid material in case someone trips on stage), with a pair of leafy gloves and a shirt with detachable bark panels.

I had fun with the gloves, but I think they might be a bit too impractical to be the next in spring fashion.

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Alternative career path: orthopedics?

A bit of costuming I made for the first stage production of Livläkarens besök (The Visit of the Royal Physician), for the Stockholm City Theatre.  A pair of old-fashioned leg braces, albeit of course made to leave room for movement for the actor, while looking restrictive and supportive.  The props storage yielded one leg brace with a rather nice look, although in poor condition and incorrect size.  It served as inspiration for the new pair, and the leg joints could also be used after having been re-shaped, cut down and altered to better match the second pair, which were salvaged from a modern plastic leg brace.  The costume designer also wished for some joints looking like they were keeping the ankles locked, so the foot loops I made was aluminium and hardware on the sides, and elastic below the feet.

[and I swear to the stars / I’ll burn this whole city down]

A city designed to burn, and to do so repeatedly and safely.  It was both part of the decor for the play in question, and was also projected up in real-time as the view out from a window of a New York apartment.  A very fun job!

This city view, built entirely out of metal and standing on a fire-proof fibre cement board, was built for a play called Du ska veta mitt värde (You Shall Know My Worth), an original play about Ayn Rand, produced by the Stockholm City Theatre.  The buildings are a mix of found objects (metal boxes, hardware, etc), structural tubing, folded metal sheeting, and at the back, flat metal cutouts given some shape and stability with a profile rolling machine.

Some of the buildings had lighting in them for the night time cityscape.  While some lamps could be mounted into the buildings, others were close to the fire, or even in the houses that had fire mounted into them.  Here, I had to mount the lamps underneath the board and aim the light up into the back wall of the building.  The cityscape was placed on top of a wheeled box table, where lamps, wires and gas lines could be concealed.  My colleague placed the gas lines for the fire — one long line of flame at the back, and concentrated fires in two of the houses further to the front.

Once on stage, the model was placed in front of a screen that was lit to emulate different times of the day.  A light bulb suspended above served as the sun.  And during the end monologue, one of the actors set the gas flames alight, and the model city and its projection burned in real-time.

A very cool scenography idea, and a very interesting play as well.  More documentary than flattering, it featured some extremely impressive acting.

Lobsterhead.

Fancy headwear.

A lobster hat/helmet I originally made for a television commercial, and which I heard was later adopted and used for a stage show as well.  Personally I think it would make for very sophisticated wear during the crayfish parties in the fall.

Material is mostly Airex, some other.

Life in the Land of Letters, seasons 2 and 3

I’ve posted before about season one of the pedagogical children’s program I worked on — here, here and here.  About time I posted a few pictures from the second and third seasons.  Where season one focused on teaching the pronounciation of single letters, seasons two and three brought up slightly more advanced stuff, like sounds signified by consonant clusters, or letters that change pronounciation depending on context.

When you are in a great rush and need to get things done as soon as possiblewithout any breathing room, it is easy to forget to take any pictures, and having to rely on screenshots that may or may not not have captured any of the details that you put into the work.  This was the case for me when I worked on season one of this show, and when I began season two I had learned my lesson and tried documenting most things before moving on to the next.

… of course, then my phone was stolen before I had uploaded any of the pictures to my computer.  Sigh.  Lesson two: if your backup habits are irregular, try implementing some kind of automatic system.  The camera on my new phone is now linked directly to a folder on my Dropbox.  But for this show, the damage was already done.

So, Once More With Screenshots:

This is a sample of all the stuff I and my excellent assistants and interns made for this show.  All episodes of Livet i Bokstavslandet can still be watched at the website of Utbildningsradion.

♥.

Making of a heart, from lump of styrofoam to subway posters.  The college in Gävle used it in their information and advertisement materials.  I’ve seen it show up a couple of years in a row now on posters and the like, when recruiting season sets in… nice when you encounter some of your old creations in the wild and see that they appear to be doing well.

Ancestral shrunken heads

Well, since I have already posted pictures of the shrunken heads in various stages of finish, here’s some more.  As previously stated, they were made for Romeo and Juliet at the Stockholm City Theatre (which premiered just now and will play during the coming months — get your tickets!).  It is the ancestor of Juliet, and his murderer.  Ever since the mustashe came on the killer, I have been unable to not mentally refer to him as Ned Flanders.

Worbla is a pretty great material for skin texture, btw.  The more overheated, the more pores you get.