Being an English teacher, I’ve read a lot of plays focusing on a lot of different things: imagery, symbolism, subtext, characterization, etc. But – this being my first time as the prop designer for a show – this is thus the first time that I have read a play with an eye to the props. It has really been a fascinating experience, because there is so much more to think about than meets the eye.
Every stage direction becomes loaded:
Someone blows her nose. Ok, that means tissues. Or, wait, maybe a handkerchief? Which one would fit this character? What would it say about her? Maybe Lenny would use a handkerchief in its quaint old fashioned way as a tie to the past. But Meg? Definitely a tissue: disposable, no muss, no fuss.
See? Each prop gains its own meaning. I’ve gotten to think about not only the symbolism of each item the sisters touch, but also about the milieu in which they exist and the zeitgeist which they reveal.
Being the prop designer has really allowed me to understand so much more about what goes into putting on a play than simply being an actor (when I was Rebecca Nurse in The Crucible a few years ago, one night someone handed me a cane to walk with and I was like, oh, ok, thanks – never considering the work that went into obtaining that cane).
It’s been great collaborating with the production team and cast when determining what a certain prop would look like and why, or simply how to obtain a certain prop. The trickiest part is definitely thinking about getting the food, which has to be replaced nightly (except for the fake ice cubes I made, which came out pretty good if I do say so myself!).
So, I invite you, as you sit and enjoy Crimes of the Heart, before you let your disbelief become too suspended, to consider as you watch a character pull a matchbook out of her purse, or another spoon oatmeal into her mouth, that these moments are in part provided by your humble obtainer of the common property of the company. I hope you enjoy them as much as I.
Submitted by Barbara Hoffmann, Crimes Props Designer
Every stage direction becomes loaded:
Someone blows her nose. Ok, that means tissues. Or, wait, maybe a handkerchief? Which one would fit this character? What would it say about her? Maybe Lenny would use a handkerchief in its quaint old fashioned way as a tie to the past. But Meg? Definitely a tissue: disposable, no muss, no fuss.
See? Each prop gains its own meaning. I’ve gotten to think about not only the symbolism of each item the sisters touch, but also about the milieu in which they exist and the zeitgeist which they reveal.
Being the prop designer has really allowed me to understand so much more about what goes into putting on a play than simply being an actor (when I was Rebecca Nurse in The Crucible a few years ago, one night someone handed me a cane to walk with and I was like, oh, ok, thanks – never considering the work that went into obtaining that cane).
It’s been great collaborating with the production team and cast when determining what a certain prop would look like and why, or simply how to obtain a certain prop. The trickiest part is definitely thinking about getting the food, which has to be replaced nightly (except for the fake ice cubes I made, which came out pretty good if I do say so myself!).
So, I invite you, as you sit and enjoy Crimes of the Heart, before you let your disbelief become too suspended, to consider as you watch a character pull a matchbook out of her purse, or another spoon oatmeal into her mouth, that these moments are in part provided by your humble obtainer of the common property of the company. I hope you enjoy them as much as I.
Submitted by Barbara Hoffmann, Crimes Props Designer
RSS Feed