The end of what should have been bliss.
Mar. 24th, 2003 12:13 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ysobelleHow depressing.
I've debated putting this back up. I had it, I took it down, and now I'm thinking, this is MY journal, dammit. Publish and be damned!
Dear Miss N,
I'm sorry that all this stuff happened but it is probably for the best. It was kinda stressing us all out. You were trying to costume an entire cast with absolutely no money and not even a mirage of money in sight. They kept getting pissed off at you all the time because they thought you weren't making things. They were giving you flack about your designs like you didn't know what you were talking about. Not to mention the fact that you did everything for free. I know that we helped a lot as volunteers. I personally drove 2 hours to Philly on my own dime, many times, to make stuff even though the people in charge of the faire were pretty shitty to me and B when we went up for measurements. I think everyone is better off this way. No more mileage on the cars, no more stressing about unreasonable requests, no more attitude. And, you don't have to worry about going up to the show to take care of the costumes. Yup, definately better this way. Well give me a call or email m e back if you want.
love you, K
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Subj:
My sadness about S
Date:
3/19/2003 11:07:19 PM Eastern Standard Time
From:
K M
To:
N
Sent from the Internet (Details)
N, dear:
After call you tonight and finding out that our costuming projest for S had been rejected by D, I have to say I am hurt. I had poured my heart into contributing something meaningful to a new Faire. How unprofessional this is, not to mention, that I feel violated and stolen from.
Your designs, our work and being so nearly finished, I can't help but feel that it will be a long time before I want to be involved with a project to help L. I didn't expect anything but perhaps some gratitude for all our hardwork to help make this a new successful Renn Venture.
I originally had expected to come up this weekend to finish the tunics. We were so close to completion. I had already made three trips out-of-state for weekend marathon sewing sessions and spent about 60 hours at home sewing the shirts and cutting patterns to make this successful.
I have worked on many summer stock projects over the years and never experiences the politics I have for this S project. I have been told of political problems with faires before, but thought this would be different.
I am angry that this group of people has STOLEN your work, your money and your heart. It is obvious they really don't understand the what faire is supposed to be about. Granted, it is a business, but where would faires be without the valuable volunteers that keep it going. It takes more than paying $$$ at gate to make faire successful. It's all a terrible shame and the Karma that this event has created will not be repaired to ever make S successful. I plan to let wenches in Local 42 aware of what has happened here, after all, they pay gate fees to support faires and this is was a big mistake.
If I was to itemize my services, $10/hr @ 60hrs= $ 600 plus gas for 3 trips @ $15ea=$45 and $10 tolls per trip=$30 comes to $675, which is perhaps not much to some, obviously. You have not been paid for the supplies, not to mention your supplies! That is an affront to your talent! By rights they should start over from scratch. What pricks! Did they think we had nothing to do but throw our time away?
Meant originally as a donation, I now consider it was stolen from me. I never expect that I or my friends will patronize this faire. Too bad - there was such great potential. I am sad that you were SO used by people close to you who obviously have no experience in production.
I will still see you this weekend and next and we will surely play to our heart's content---somewhere else!
Love,
k
TO: L
FROM: C, assistant seamstress to N
DATE: March 19, 2003
RE: Description of sewing duties performed while working for the S Festival
My responsibilities including cutting, sewing and detailing the costumes for J M , J B , S K , S C and D R.
In response to N’s description of what the costumes should look like, N and I decided that J M’s doublet would have machine embroidered silver stitching in a 1.5 inch diamond pattern with silver colored studs at the meeting points of the diamonds. I was also to machine stitch silver cording along the collar, the back "V" between the top and bottom of the back of the doublet, and have a continuous silver cording starting at the front arm, down the front, around the peplum and up the other side to the other arm. The epaulets were also to be edged in the same silver cording. Matching sleeves were to be provided. Machine stitched diamond patterns were made to help save money on buying trim. The diamond pattern took approximately 200 yards of Sulky silver metallic thread to create and cost approximately $4.00. To have used a silver cording would have cost more than $20.00.
The diamond pattern design, stitching and grommeting took 5 hours alone to accomplish. Measurements needed to be precise, especially on the front so that when the silver stud buttons were added a distinct pattern of 7 rows of silver "studs" would be seen. The cording took 2 hours alone for the neck, the epaulets and the back, before sewing these parts to the body of the doublet proper. The collar, once attached, took 25 minutes to hand sew (I had sprained my right wrist and I have carpel tunnel in my right hand, which is my stitching hand). On Saturday, I still needed to hand stitch the inside lining to the peplum and machine stitch the silver cording around the front and peplum, as well as stitch on the stud buttons. The time estimated to complete these sections and the sleeves should be about 3 hours. This means that the total amount of time to create J M’s doublet and sleeves would have been 10 hours and 25 minutes.
J B’s doublet was cut out and partly stitched together in 4 hours while I was at the Rho House, in between helping N and the actors. There was no trim or decoration added at the time. This was a much simpler doublet, given his character. It would also have needed sleeves. Estimated time to completely sew J B’s doublet, including the sleeves and trim, is approximately 8-10 hours, tops.
**This means that the sewing time for both doublets is approximately 18.5 hours or close to a part-time regular job.
Note that both doublets were interlined to help increase wearability and durability, with stretch elastic loops to hold the fronts together. Such loops are easily replaced if they tear. Seams were serged and then overstitched to improve wear and durability over the two weekends of use, as well as during rehearsals and use next year. The Viking Tunics would have also been serged and overstitched. In addition, the Viking Tunics were to be reinforced along the edges where the grommets were to be placed so that the material would not tear during the strenuous activities. Grommeting would also have allowed the actors to adjust their costumes to suit the moves needed during fight scenes. The time it would take to complete the Viking Tunics depended on what details were needed. To save money, N wanted me to "create" trim using my embroidery sewing machine and embroidery machine thread. These trim designs would have been unique to the Stockwood faire costumes and would have required more time to sew. However, as I said, this would have saved the S faire money.
I was prepared to cut out and begin sewing the Viking Tunics Saturday night. This was not accomplished in light of N being fired by D. Both doublets and the three tunics would have been completed for use the following week.
Costume sewing for Renaissance Faires differs completely from that done for parties. Extra effort is made to create a quality piece of clothing that appears "real" to the audience and can take the wear and tear of being used for more than one day, over the course of no less than 8 hours, in both clement and inclement weather. In addition it produces a better quality garment than any rented from a costume shop and, more important, is owned by the S Renaissance Festival in perpetuity. I had the pleasure of sewing theatrical costumes for the Baltimore Opera Company while I was in college as well as for my college’s theatre productions, so I have practical experience in what it takes to design and create quality theatre costumes that can stand wear and tear. I also know that there was more than enough time to finish the costumes so that the actors would have them to rehearse in, based on the time schedule D described when he fired N.
The artistic producer and his colleagues failed to take into account the sheer volume of work needed to be accomplished in order to produce first-rate costumes that were unique to Stockwood and, more importantly, would be owned by S. This would have decreased costume costs over the years, as various costumes could be reworked as needed by character changes or downgraded to peasant/mudperson garb.
They also failed to take into account that N REQUIRED assistants to help her sew all of the costumes that were to be used by S. All work was done in our homes, on our personal machines, on a volunteer basis. N kept us abreast of what needed to be done when and ensuing deadlines. However, D and the others failed to take into account setbacks that are prone to happen when diverse individuals are working on a project of this magnitude. I personally was unable to get to N until after the February snowstorms and a prior commitment I had to my own wench local for a fundraiser. I continued to sew in spite of a badly sprained wrist and hand so that the costumes would be ready within a specific time frame. The shortsightedness of D, T, M and any others involved in the decision to fire N will result in a loss of money from the S Renaissance Festival through the renting of costumes. This money could have been used the following year to make those improvements deemed necessary.
Finally, I am also appalled at the way N was fired by D. I have worked in two professional careers, first as a medical technologist and currently as a teacher. I have NEVER seen anyone treated as rudely and as brutally as D treated N. He embarrassed and humiliated her in front of myself and the other members of the crew AFTER she and I had worked all day on the costumes. His lack of professionalism, coupled with M’s terse and unfriendly behavior towards me, makes me question whether these people are capable of running the artistic side of the S Renaissance Faire to the benefit of the organization and to the reputation of L Enterprises. I personally felt used AND abused. I had to drive N home after this hideous incident. She was in shock the entire time and barely spoke as she helped me get us back to Philadelphia. Had I not been there, N would never have been able to make the trip home. D owes N a public and written apology, as do all of the others who were involved in this situation. Serious consideration needs to be made as to whether these individuals should be hired back next year in light of their serious mistakes. Personally, I will not take part in another L production based on my one day participation.
To whom it may concern:
I have been asked to a compose a letter in regards to the costuming at S, its planning, production, and delivering of product. And mayhap to say a few words on how this production was handled.
I was approached by N to assist her initially in the production of costumes for the show. She showed me the designs and we discussed the amount of work that would need to be done. She then explained that there was essentially no budget to be had for this show and that any work would have to be done on a volunteer basis.
N is not a hobbyist when it comes to design and execution. She went to school for this which is more than I can say for several of the people who criticized her. She took on this monumental task with no backing except from the wenches and friends who agreed to give up their spare time to help her finish every piece. Alteration to designs had to be made to allow for the lack of budget, then again as the actors were met and evaluated for the suitability of those designs to that person. Again with no budget.
N and her "team" then plotted a course of action to complete the costumes. We were all in agreement that the pieces had to be well constructed as to last for future use beyond this show as this was meant to build a wardrobe for the show itself to draw from. For myself, I chose to take on the tasks of working with the leather.
We discussed alterations that had to be made to design due to the type of leather that would be available and affordable as again we were told there was no budget set for this. For anyone who deals with leather, I had to order the pieces needed and make sure that they were of a quality that would reflect the designs well. These were pieces that would see abuse and use over the course of the 2 weekends, and had to look good. I gave N a time frame for completion.
As with all good plans, Mother Nature reared her head and tossed it around. Snow struck, preventing the trips necessary for picking up leather, getting mockups from N, and then illness. We are all human. And we were all volunteers. I work a full time jib, and own my own business. I am coming into my busy season with shows almost every weekend starting in April. My time is valuable, but I was helping N.
I have completed 75% of the larger leather pieces (H's tunic, I's bunny fur, and the Viking mantle). I called N on Thursday explaining to her that I just had worked 50 hrs in 4 days due to an emergency at my full time job and that I could not get the items done for her to take on Saturday, but that I would be able to complete them Sunday and Monday on my days off. That means close to 16 hrs worth of work to complete plus doing the waist cinch.
The week prior I had gone down to her house and spent the day making the chemises and cutting fabric, since our schedule had fallen behind due to the snow. Again on my day off.
Saturday evening N called me and told me the news of her firing- no, her humiliation. I could hear that in her voice. I can only express anger at the situation. What supported this? She didn't meet her deadlines? They were unreasonable. She was expected to fill out spreadsheets? Where did this come from? Have any of them done professional costumes before?
I worked all through college in the costume shop which supplied movies and local theaters. I don't remember ever dealing with a deadline that expected costumes to be done 2 months prior to a show opening. Most shows on Broadway don't even expect that. I've worked as an assistant at the Pennsylvania Renaissance Faire which deals with professional card-carrying actors and directors, whose production staff comes with resumes most people would die for in the business and was not brow beaten about deadlines and spreadsheets. I worked with fabric and got paid for it. My costumes were expected to be completed within a week of opening to assure a perfect fit and look for that show.
N's work was criticized from day one. Her abilities were questioned which I felt was uncalled for. Is there another professional costumer there that we didn't know about? When I actually came with N to help do measurements, I was made to feel like I was annoyance to certain members of your staff. I felt we were treated rudely and not given enough time to work with actors that we were expected to make look good for the show. If anything that everyone should be aware of is that patrons remember 2 basic things about the Ren Fest- what great shows there were and what fabulous costumes. I felt we were second fiddle to it all. That what people wore was not important. First impressions are always how who look. If the cast doesn't look good, your show doesn't.
As for the treatment of N, it was rude and out of line. She was given no warning of this, especially since you used her services for the entire day. She drove over 2 hours, was used, and discarded. And don't tell me it wasn't planned. How she was treated and what was said was totally mapped out. She was humiliated in front of people she considered her peers. It was unprofessional. She is owed an apology. That is without a doubt. She put her time into this, both in design and trying to organize a crew willing to work for nothing, and got shafted. Pointe blank.
As far as my affiliation with the show, professionally I will have nothing to do with it as long as it is run in this manner so unprofessionally. Your group is trying to make this into a professional production with constant rehearsals and deadlines. How about treating a professional as her due, as opposed to how you think it should be. Learn from this.
E E
L, D, T, R, & M:
There are a few things I probably should have said to you before, and a few things I should have made clear much earlier. L suggested Monday night that I write them down.
When I was first recruited to come work on this show as a costumer, I was excited. Costuming isn’t something I do as a hobby. I’m not a weekender, I’m not a dilettante. I’ve had several years of ridiculously expensive training, and several years of professional and semi-professional experience. It hasn’t always been pleasant, but I love what I do very deeply. I’ve done full-theatre shows, commercial shows, small productions, large productions, group and individual costumes, and several Renaissance faires. In other words, I know what I’m doing, and I also know that I’m good at it.
I realised pretty quickly that I was working with a show that was used to renting costumes and having them immediately, and had never worked with a costumer before. I was mildly astonished, for example, that no provisions were going to be made for me to see cast members outside of rehearsal, and that I would have to see everyone in one day. In even the most haphazard productions, arrangements are made for actors to spend considerably more time with the person who’ll be dressing them. In a theatre setting, they’re usually seen on separate days, in the costume shop, for an hour or so at a time. But I knew this might be a problem—especially since S has no physical shop—and I wanted to be flexible, so I didn’t make a point of it.
I set up a budget for my requirements, and, knowing funds were limited, I kept my estimates to under $2,000. I spent days shopping for this show, driving all over Philadelphia, and in the end, managed to spend approximately half my projected expenses.
On December 12th, I got an email from the production not asking me what I perceived my schedule to be, and what my needs were, and how I would run my department, such as it was, but a flat, final dictation to me of all my deadlines. I saw to my surprise that the first time I was to present sketches, without having any further meetings with the producer or director, I was to have finished colour plates. In the first place, I’ve never had a stage manager say to me arbitrarily, "these are the deadlines we came up with for you" without even the courtesy of asking if I were amenable to them, or even if they were realistic. I’ve certainly never had my process dictated to me by someone who’s never costumed a show. In the second place, costume plates are a final step, done after numerous conferences with the director, and really most useful posted in the shop for assistants’ and stitchers’ reference. It’s useless to present finished paintings for approval. But I did my best to accommodate everyone, finally scanning in the sketches I had when a first face-to-face meeting was impossible due to timing and weather, and, after a messy number of emails, I redid my sketches based on suggestions from L and D, adding colour swatches to keep things moving. We arranged a quick meeting, and everything seemed to be settled. It wasn’t ideal, it certainly wasn’t orthodox costuming, but again, I adjusted.
Soon, as I began to make suggestions about what I needed people to bring or changing schedules, it was hard not to notice the tone of my reception was changing. I stopped getting emails in a friendly vein, and started getting short, unhelpful responses with more than a touch of exasperation. I needed to see what costume pieces people had, and I should have insisted that they bring them. Again, I wanted to play nice, and against my better judgement, I folded.
On January 10th, we met to discuss and restructure deadlines. We agreed on two before dress rehearsals. The first was described simply as an opportunity for me to present my works-in-progress. So on February 15th, I arrived with my muslins, my plans, and the pieces I’d already built. I was there all day. Never once did any member of the staff come in to see what I was doing. Never once did anyone make any attempt to ask me how my work was going. At the meeting that afternoon, since bringing in marked-up pieces of muslin would have meant nothing to anyone but me, and since there were no cast members there to model anything, I came with my notes and gave a brief but thorough report on how the job was progressing. In this meeting, I made it clear that things were going well. That I was on-target, and on schedule. I heard nothing about how I was already presumed to be behind schedule. All I heard was that my costumes had to be "washable," and they "had to fit." Believe it or not, I’m not a moron—I am aware that people in stage combat actually have to move, and that they will sometimes fall down. I must have said, "Yes, I understand," at least half a dozen times as the same things were said over and over. Is there a faire somewhere that makes costumes out of cardboard? Of course my costumes fit, and except for a few very fancy pieces, of course they’re washable. Except for this minor annoyance, I left feeling perfectly fine. Concerns had been raised again about the trunk hose, and I agreed to have them ready for the next rehearsal. (A rehearsal which was canceled, but for which they were ready, I should add.)I chatted with people on the way out, and everyone seemed supportive and positive. Nothing was ever said to me about my being behind.
It was only after this that I started to hear about how behind I supposedly was. Somehow, despite my actually having work with me, I was told "people aren’t getting what they need." I was never told anything more specific than that, though I’m not an idiot and I’m fully aware of who was saying what, though the "people" in question should have been perfectly able to come confer with me themselves if they had concerns, instead of talking about how I wasn’t giving them what they, in fact, hadn’t asked for. I was supposed to have everything ready on March 15th—if certain things had been necessary before that, I would have adjusted, as I did with the pumpkin pants. But nothing else was said to me.
So I’m sure you can understand how baffled and annoyed I was when, shortly thereafter, my reception went from merely cool to downright cold. I was thrown a demand for updates, despite my having given a full report a week before. I was sent a spreadsheet with little to no relation to the work I was doing and ordered to fill it out. I took a deep breath, tried to control my temper, and pointed out that since it was sent to me just before I had a crew arriving, it would make more sense for me to turn it in 24 hours later, after we finished what turned out to be an immense amount of work. In response, I got a sharp, curt, and condescending email, scolding me for daring to make a decision about my work. Again, I controlled myself and wrote a long email, trying to explain my position: that unlike all of you, I’m dependent upon other people to help me produce my work for the cast. When something in the production changes—a missed rehearsal or a cast member’s weight change or a different idea from cast or crew—many other things change for me. When a volunteer—someone with a tenuous at best connection to this show, and someone who, in most cases, has a job and a life, and whom I can’t compel to do anything they don’t want to do—can’t help me for whatever reason or, bless them, can donate some extra time, I have to adjust. And I’d done so, countless times. Without making a fuss or whining. I’d kept up my end of the bargain, and was still on-track. And I resented the increasing hostility that seemed to come out of nowhere, and which I couldn’t seem to shake. Sick of everyone hiding behind pixels, I called D and spoke to him. He told me that there was a "perception" that I was behind somehow. We agreed that I would come up with everything and show the staff what I had. I did so. I brought shirts, doublet and tunic mock-ups, skirts, robe mock-ups, patterns, fabric samples. By this time, I’d completed most of the actors’ pants, and the infamous pumpkin pants had been worn all day, with, I’d like to point out, no problems. I stated as emphatically as I could in that meeting that I was fine. That I was, in fact, ahead of schedule, and that all was well. I thought that would be the end of it. It should have been the end of it. Smiles all around. D told me all was well. L told me I was great. I thought I’d finally laid to rest these shadowy "perceptions."
And then I hit my first snag. As everyone agreed, I couldn’t possibly do all the work myself. I’d given over the leatherwork to a leatherworker who agreed to wait for payment simply because she trusted me (work for which she herself was never paid), and turned over the tunics and doublets to two women who volunteered to take them on. Every single piece aside from those, I had worked on myself with no problems. And when I called to say that out of dozens and dozens of pieces, ten—TEN—would be late, I got absolutely no slack. At the very most, those pieces would have been ready for the next rehearsal, and except for dyework and finishing, I would have been done. I was never even given a chance to explain this. I was never given a chance to fix this problem—the decision to fire me was made on the spot, and I was made to drive five hours round trip and put in a full day at rehearsal while, it seems, everyone else on the staff knew I was to be fired.
The deadlines I was given, to costume a full cast with no shop, no supplies, promises of funds that never materialised, volunteers who disappeared, and open hostility and rudeness to me and my crew of volunteers, were unrealistic from the outset. No show should be costumed six weeks before it opens-- I can't tell you how many actors not only told me they were going to lose weight, as many often will, but actually did. Or, worse, gained weight. The wedding dress, for example, was checked against measurements three times, and still didn't fit. Most of the actors went from a winter of inactivity to weekly workouts. Your demands to have costumes a month and half before they were to be worn showed that none of you really had a grasp of the mechanics of costuming a full production. But I knew that going in, and I wanted this to work, so I agreed. I agreed knowing it would be a problem, and I probably should have said so.
I started my work with the understanding-- in my mind at least-- that I was a member of your team. That you would listen to me when I said what I needed, and would accept the needs of the costume department as every bit as valid as anyone else's. What I got was a lot of flak about how unreasonable I was being: demanding to see actors or having to change whom I needed to see and when. Every week I was promised money that never came, and in the end, I spent nearly $500 of my own money on materials I couldn’t wait for any longer—receipts for which I’ve still not been reimbursed. Every other week, I had to deal with volunteers who either disappeared or couldn't do what they said they could. I was never even given a full copy of the scripts, despite repeated requests which, really, I should never have had to make more than once. Somehow, I managed to adjust. I spent weeks drafting patterns, doing countless mock-ups, prewashing fabric by the carload, adjusting patterns, directing assistants, planning schedules, tracking down fabric and buttons and trim all over the Delaware Valley, swatching and dyeing, laying out patterns, cutting, and stitching. And when it came down to the delivery day, while yes, the external work had stalled, everything I'd set for myself, with the exception of a skirt and a pair of pants for a non-fighter, was done. I was missing, on the whole, a fraction of the total work. I brought a carload of costumes. I did an astonishing job. I did it with my own money. I did it mostly alone. I did it for free. And I was openly, publically castigated, humiliated, and fired.
I was treated abominably by all of you, and your assurances that you will start over again with another costumer or spend money you don't have to rent costumes you will never be able to keep is ridiculous and illogical. Not least, anyone else looking at my work in the unfinished state in which it was left will think it cryptic at best, and shoddy at worst, since they have no idea what I was doing or how I meant to continue with it. This is incredibly frustrating, and unbelievably painful.
I spent weeks fighting "perceptions" that should never have been my problem because no one backed up the faith they professed to have in me. Again and again I was forced to prove myself, as it became increasingly obvious that not a single one of you gave me the support I, as a supposed member of your team, should have received. I fell behind with my costumes ONCE, through circumstances that were unavoidable, and for which I took full and immediate responsibility. And for that, you took my baby from me. My baby, my creation, my love, my work, something to which I devoted months of my life, something I gave up paying work to do, something into which I poured my heart and soul and even a little blood. I hurt for my show in a way I don’t think any of you can possibly understand. I’m not an amateur. This is what I do. I was recruited for this show because I know more about costuming than all of you put together, yet somehow I was treated like an absolute idiot. I was insulted, talked about behind my back, treated like an annoyance, and shown nothing, in the end, but disrespect and distain. You got a professional costumer for free, and you wasted the opportunity. This was not about my work, which I know, and which everyone who worked with me knows, was good, solid, professional work that I had all but finished. What this was was a personality conflict, and you should all have the honesty to admit it.
Sincerely,
N
I've debated putting this back up. I had it, I took it down, and now I'm thinking, this is MY journal, dammit. Publish and be damned!
Dear Miss N,
I'm sorry that all this stuff happened but it is probably for the best. It was kinda stressing us all out. You were trying to costume an entire cast with absolutely no money and not even a mirage of money in sight. They kept getting pissed off at you all the time because they thought you weren't making things. They were giving you flack about your designs like you didn't know what you were talking about. Not to mention the fact that you did everything for free. I know that we helped a lot as volunteers. I personally drove 2 hours to Philly on my own dime, many times, to make stuff even though the people in charge of the faire were pretty shitty to me and B when we went up for measurements. I think everyone is better off this way. No more mileage on the cars, no more stressing about unreasonable requests, no more attitude. And, you don't have to worry about going up to the show to take care of the costumes. Yup, definately better this way. Well give me a call or email m e back if you want.
love you, K
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Subj:
My sadness about S
Date:
3/19/2003 11:07:19 PM Eastern Standard Time
From:
K M
To:
N
Sent from the Internet (Details)
N, dear:
After call you tonight and finding out that our costuming projest for S had been rejected by D, I have to say I am hurt. I had poured my heart into contributing something meaningful to a new Faire. How unprofessional this is, not to mention, that I feel violated and stolen from.
Your designs, our work and being so nearly finished, I can't help but feel that it will be a long time before I want to be involved with a project to help L. I didn't expect anything but perhaps some gratitude for all our hardwork to help make this a new successful Renn Venture.
I originally had expected to come up this weekend to finish the tunics. We were so close to completion. I had already made three trips out-of-state for weekend marathon sewing sessions and spent about 60 hours at home sewing the shirts and cutting patterns to make this successful.
I have worked on many summer stock projects over the years and never experiences the politics I have for this S project. I have been told of political problems with faires before, but thought this would be different.
I am angry that this group of people has STOLEN your work, your money and your heart. It is obvious they really don't understand the what faire is supposed to be about. Granted, it is a business, but where would faires be without the valuable volunteers that keep it going. It takes more than paying $$$ at gate to make faire successful. It's all a terrible shame and the Karma that this event has created will not be repaired to ever make S successful. I plan to let wenches in Local 42 aware of what has happened here, after all, they pay gate fees to support faires and this is was a big mistake.
If I was to itemize my services, $10/hr @ 60hrs= $ 600 plus gas for 3 trips @ $15ea=$45 and $10 tolls per trip=$30 comes to $675, which is perhaps not much to some, obviously. You have not been paid for the supplies, not to mention your supplies! That is an affront to your talent! By rights they should start over from scratch. What pricks! Did they think we had nothing to do but throw our time away?
Meant originally as a donation, I now consider it was stolen from me. I never expect that I or my friends will patronize this faire. Too bad - there was such great potential. I am sad that you were SO used by people close to you who obviously have no experience in production.
I will still see you this weekend and next and we will surely play to our heart's content---somewhere else!
Love,
k
TO: L
FROM: C, assistant seamstress to N
DATE: March 19, 2003
RE: Description of sewing duties performed while working for the S Festival
My responsibilities including cutting, sewing and detailing the costumes for J M , J B , S K , S C and D R.
In response to N’s description of what the costumes should look like, N and I decided that J M’s doublet would have machine embroidered silver stitching in a 1.5 inch diamond pattern with silver colored studs at the meeting points of the diamonds. I was also to machine stitch silver cording along the collar, the back "V" between the top and bottom of the back of the doublet, and have a continuous silver cording starting at the front arm, down the front, around the peplum and up the other side to the other arm. The epaulets were also to be edged in the same silver cording. Matching sleeves were to be provided. Machine stitched diamond patterns were made to help save money on buying trim. The diamond pattern took approximately 200 yards of Sulky silver metallic thread to create and cost approximately $4.00. To have used a silver cording would have cost more than $20.00.
The diamond pattern design, stitching and grommeting took 5 hours alone to accomplish. Measurements needed to be precise, especially on the front so that when the silver stud buttons were added a distinct pattern of 7 rows of silver "studs" would be seen. The cording took 2 hours alone for the neck, the epaulets and the back, before sewing these parts to the body of the doublet proper. The collar, once attached, took 25 minutes to hand sew (I had sprained my right wrist and I have carpel tunnel in my right hand, which is my stitching hand). On Saturday, I still needed to hand stitch the inside lining to the peplum and machine stitch the silver cording around the front and peplum, as well as stitch on the stud buttons. The time estimated to complete these sections and the sleeves should be about 3 hours. This means that the total amount of time to create J M’s doublet and sleeves would have been 10 hours and 25 minutes.
J B’s doublet was cut out and partly stitched together in 4 hours while I was at the Rho House, in between helping N and the actors. There was no trim or decoration added at the time. This was a much simpler doublet, given his character. It would also have needed sleeves. Estimated time to completely sew J B’s doublet, including the sleeves and trim, is approximately 8-10 hours, tops.
**This means that the sewing time for both doublets is approximately 18.5 hours or close to a part-time regular job.
Note that both doublets were interlined to help increase wearability and durability, with stretch elastic loops to hold the fronts together. Such loops are easily replaced if they tear. Seams were serged and then overstitched to improve wear and durability over the two weekends of use, as well as during rehearsals and use next year. The Viking Tunics would have also been serged and overstitched. In addition, the Viking Tunics were to be reinforced along the edges where the grommets were to be placed so that the material would not tear during the strenuous activities. Grommeting would also have allowed the actors to adjust their costumes to suit the moves needed during fight scenes. The time it would take to complete the Viking Tunics depended on what details were needed. To save money, N wanted me to "create" trim using my embroidery sewing machine and embroidery machine thread. These trim designs would have been unique to the Stockwood faire costumes and would have required more time to sew. However, as I said, this would have saved the S faire money.
I was prepared to cut out and begin sewing the Viking Tunics Saturday night. This was not accomplished in light of N being fired by D. Both doublets and the three tunics would have been completed for use the following week.
Costume sewing for Renaissance Faires differs completely from that done for parties. Extra effort is made to create a quality piece of clothing that appears "real" to the audience and can take the wear and tear of being used for more than one day, over the course of no less than 8 hours, in both clement and inclement weather. In addition it produces a better quality garment than any rented from a costume shop and, more important, is owned by the S Renaissance Festival in perpetuity. I had the pleasure of sewing theatrical costumes for the Baltimore Opera Company while I was in college as well as for my college’s theatre productions, so I have practical experience in what it takes to design and create quality theatre costumes that can stand wear and tear. I also know that there was more than enough time to finish the costumes so that the actors would have them to rehearse in, based on the time schedule D described when he fired N.
The artistic producer and his colleagues failed to take into account the sheer volume of work needed to be accomplished in order to produce first-rate costumes that were unique to Stockwood and, more importantly, would be owned by S. This would have decreased costume costs over the years, as various costumes could be reworked as needed by character changes or downgraded to peasant/mudperson garb.
They also failed to take into account that N REQUIRED assistants to help her sew all of the costumes that were to be used by S. All work was done in our homes, on our personal machines, on a volunteer basis. N kept us abreast of what needed to be done when and ensuing deadlines. However, D and the others failed to take into account setbacks that are prone to happen when diverse individuals are working on a project of this magnitude. I personally was unable to get to N until after the February snowstorms and a prior commitment I had to my own wench local for a fundraiser. I continued to sew in spite of a badly sprained wrist and hand so that the costumes would be ready within a specific time frame. The shortsightedness of D, T, M and any others involved in the decision to fire N will result in a loss of money from the S Renaissance Festival through the renting of costumes. This money could have been used the following year to make those improvements deemed necessary.
Finally, I am also appalled at the way N was fired by D. I have worked in two professional careers, first as a medical technologist and currently as a teacher. I have NEVER seen anyone treated as rudely and as brutally as D treated N. He embarrassed and humiliated her in front of myself and the other members of the crew AFTER she and I had worked all day on the costumes. His lack of professionalism, coupled with M’s terse and unfriendly behavior towards me, makes me question whether these people are capable of running the artistic side of the S Renaissance Faire to the benefit of the organization and to the reputation of L Enterprises. I personally felt used AND abused. I had to drive N home after this hideous incident. She was in shock the entire time and barely spoke as she helped me get us back to Philadelphia. Had I not been there, N would never have been able to make the trip home. D owes N a public and written apology, as do all of the others who were involved in this situation. Serious consideration needs to be made as to whether these individuals should be hired back next year in light of their serious mistakes. Personally, I will not take part in another L production based on my one day participation.
To whom it may concern:
I have been asked to a compose a letter in regards to the costuming at S, its planning, production, and delivering of product. And mayhap to say a few words on how this production was handled.
I was approached by N to assist her initially in the production of costumes for the show. She showed me the designs and we discussed the amount of work that would need to be done. She then explained that there was essentially no budget to be had for this show and that any work would have to be done on a volunteer basis.
N is not a hobbyist when it comes to design and execution. She went to school for this which is more than I can say for several of the people who criticized her. She took on this monumental task with no backing except from the wenches and friends who agreed to give up their spare time to help her finish every piece. Alteration to designs had to be made to allow for the lack of budget, then again as the actors were met and evaluated for the suitability of those designs to that person. Again with no budget.
N and her "team" then plotted a course of action to complete the costumes. We were all in agreement that the pieces had to be well constructed as to last for future use beyond this show as this was meant to build a wardrobe for the show itself to draw from. For myself, I chose to take on the tasks of working with the leather.
We discussed alterations that had to be made to design due to the type of leather that would be available and affordable as again we were told there was no budget set for this. For anyone who deals with leather, I had to order the pieces needed and make sure that they were of a quality that would reflect the designs well. These were pieces that would see abuse and use over the course of the 2 weekends, and had to look good. I gave N a time frame for completion.
As with all good plans, Mother Nature reared her head and tossed it around. Snow struck, preventing the trips necessary for picking up leather, getting mockups from N, and then illness. We are all human. And we were all volunteers. I work a full time jib, and own my own business. I am coming into my busy season with shows almost every weekend starting in April. My time is valuable, but I was helping N.
I have completed 75% of the larger leather pieces (H's tunic, I's bunny fur, and the Viking mantle). I called N on Thursday explaining to her that I just had worked 50 hrs in 4 days due to an emergency at my full time job and that I could not get the items done for her to take on Saturday, but that I would be able to complete them Sunday and Monday on my days off. That means close to 16 hrs worth of work to complete plus doing the waist cinch.
The week prior I had gone down to her house and spent the day making the chemises and cutting fabric, since our schedule had fallen behind due to the snow. Again on my day off.
Saturday evening N called me and told me the news of her firing- no, her humiliation. I could hear that in her voice. I can only express anger at the situation. What supported this? She didn't meet her deadlines? They were unreasonable. She was expected to fill out spreadsheets? Where did this come from? Have any of them done professional costumes before?
I worked all through college in the costume shop which supplied movies and local theaters. I don't remember ever dealing with a deadline that expected costumes to be done 2 months prior to a show opening. Most shows on Broadway don't even expect that. I've worked as an assistant at the Pennsylvania Renaissance Faire which deals with professional card-carrying actors and directors, whose production staff comes with resumes most people would die for in the business and was not brow beaten about deadlines and spreadsheets. I worked with fabric and got paid for it. My costumes were expected to be completed within a week of opening to assure a perfect fit and look for that show.
N's work was criticized from day one. Her abilities were questioned which I felt was uncalled for. Is there another professional costumer there that we didn't know about? When I actually came with N to help do measurements, I was made to feel like I was annoyance to certain members of your staff. I felt we were treated rudely and not given enough time to work with actors that we were expected to make look good for the show. If anything that everyone should be aware of is that patrons remember 2 basic things about the Ren Fest- what great shows there were and what fabulous costumes. I felt we were second fiddle to it all. That what people wore was not important. First impressions are always how who look. If the cast doesn't look good, your show doesn't.
As for the treatment of N, it was rude and out of line. She was given no warning of this, especially since you used her services for the entire day. She drove over 2 hours, was used, and discarded. And don't tell me it wasn't planned. How she was treated and what was said was totally mapped out. She was humiliated in front of people she considered her peers. It was unprofessional. She is owed an apology. That is without a doubt. She put her time into this, both in design and trying to organize a crew willing to work for nothing, and got shafted. Pointe blank.
As far as my affiliation with the show, professionally I will have nothing to do with it as long as it is run in this manner so unprofessionally. Your group is trying to make this into a professional production with constant rehearsals and deadlines. How about treating a professional as her due, as opposed to how you think it should be. Learn from this.
E E
L, D, T, R, & M:
There are a few things I probably should have said to you before, and a few things I should have made clear much earlier. L suggested Monday night that I write them down.
When I was first recruited to come work on this show as a costumer, I was excited. Costuming isn’t something I do as a hobby. I’m not a weekender, I’m not a dilettante. I’ve had several years of ridiculously expensive training, and several years of professional and semi-professional experience. It hasn’t always been pleasant, but I love what I do very deeply. I’ve done full-theatre shows, commercial shows, small productions, large productions, group and individual costumes, and several Renaissance faires. In other words, I know what I’m doing, and I also know that I’m good at it.
I realised pretty quickly that I was working with a show that was used to renting costumes and having them immediately, and had never worked with a costumer before. I was mildly astonished, for example, that no provisions were going to be made for me to see cast members outside of rehearsal, and that I would have to see everyone in one day. In even the most haphazard productions, arrangements are made for actors to spend considerably more time with the person who’ll be dressing them. In a theatre setting, they’re usually seen on separate days, in the costume shop, for an hour or so at a time. But I knew this might be a problem—especially since S has no physical shop—and I wanted to be flexible, so I didn’t make a point of it.
I set up a budget for my requirements, and, knowing funds were limited, I kept my estimates to under $2,000. I spent days shopping for this show, driving all over Philadelphia, and in the end, managed to spend approximately half my projected expenses.
On December 12th, I got an email from the production not asking me what I perceived my schedule to be, and what my needs were, and how I would run my department, such as it was, but a flat, final dictation to me of all my deadlines. I saw to my surprise that the first time I was to present sketches, without having any further meetings with the producer or director, I was to have finished colour plates. In the first place, I’ve never had a stage manager say to me arbitrarily, "these are the deadlines we came up with for you" without even the courtesy of asking if I were amenable to them, or even if they were realistic. I’ve certainly never had my process dictated to me by someone who’s never costumed a show. In the second place, costume plates are a final step, done after numerous conferences with the director, and really most useful posted in the shop for assistants’ and stitchers’ reference. It’s useless to present finished paintings for approval. But I did my best to accommodate everyone, finally scanning in the sketches I had when a first face-to-face meeting was impossible due to timing and weather, and, after a messy number of emails, I redid my sketches based on suggestions from L and D, adding colour swatches to keep things moving. We arranged a quick meeting, and everything seemed to be settled. It wasn’t ideal, it certainly wasn’t orthodox costuming, but again, I adjusted.
Soon, as I began to make suggestions about what I needed people to bring or changing schedules, it was hard not to notice the tone of my reception was changing. I stopped getting emails in a friendly vein, and started getting short, unhelpful responses with more than a touch of exasperation. I needed to see what costume pieces people had, and I should have insisted that they bring them. Again, I wanted to play nice, and against my better judgement, I folded.
On January 10th, we met to discuss and restructure deadlines. We agreed on two before dress rehearsals. The first was described simply as an opportunity for me to present my works-in-progress. So on February 15th, I arrived with my muslins, my plans, and the pieces I’d already built. I was there all day. Never once did any member of the staff come in to see what I was doing. Never once did anyone make any attempt to ask me how my work was going. At the meeting that afternoon, since bringing in marked-up pieces of muslin would have meant nothing to anyone but me, and since there were no cast members there to model anything, I came with my notes and gave a brief but thorough report on how the job was progressing. In this meeting, I made it clear that things were going well. That I was on-target, and on schedule. I heard nothing about how I was already presumed to be behind schedule. All I heard was that my costumes had to be "washable," and they "had to fit." Believe it or not, I’m not a moron—I am aware that people in stage combat actually have to move, and that they will sometimes fall down. I must have said, "Yes, I understand," at least half a dozen times as the same things were said over and over. Is there a faire somewhere that makes costumes out of cardboard? Of course my costumes fit, and except for a few very fancy pieces, of course they’re washable. Except for this minor annoyance, I left feeling perfectly fine. Concerns had been raised again about the trunk hose, and I agreed to have them ready for the next rehearsal. (A rehearsal which was canceled, but for which they were ready, I should add.)I chatted with people on the way out, and everyone seemed supportive and positive. Nothing was ever said to me about my being behind.
It was only after this that I started to hear about how behind I supposedly was. Somehow, despite my actually having work with me, I was told "people aren’t getting what they need." I was never told anything more specific than that, though I’m not an idiot and I’m fully aware of who was saying what, though the "people" in question should have been perfectly able to come confer with me themselves if they had concerns, instead of talking about how I wasn’t giving them what they, in fact, hadn’t asked for. I was supposed to have everything ready on March 15th—if certain things had been necessary before that, I would have adjusted, as I did with the pumpkin pants. But nothing else was said to me.
So I’m sure you can understand how baffled and annoyed I was when, shortly thereafter, my reception went from merely cool to downright cold. I was thrown a demand for updates, despite my having given a full report a week before. I was sent a spreadsheet with little to no relation to the work I was doing and ordered to fill it out. I took a deep breath, tried to control my temper, and pointed out that since it was sent to me just before I had a crew arriving, it would make more sense for me to turn it in 24 hours later, after we finished what turned out to be an immense amount of work. In response, I got a sharp, curt, and condescending email, scolding me for daring to make a decision about my work. Again, I controlled myself and wrote a long email, trying to explain my position: that unlike all of you, I’m dependent upon other people to help me produce my work for the cast. When something in the production changes—a missed rehearsal or a cast member’s weight change or a different idea from cast or crew—many other things change for me. When a volunteer—someone with a tenuous at best connection to this show, and someone who, in most cases, has a job and a life, and whom I can’t compel to do anything they don’t want to do—can’t help me for whatever reason or, bless them, can donate some extra time, I have to adjust. And I’d done so, countless times. Without making a fuss or whining. I’d kept up my end of the bargain, and was still on-track. And I resented the increasing hostility that seemed to come out of nowhere, and which I couldn’t seem to shake. Sick of everyone hiding behind pixels, I called D and spoke to him. He told me that there was a "perception" that I was behind somehow. We agreed that I would come up with everything and show the staff what I had. I did so. I brought shirts, doublet and tunic mock-ups, skirts, robe mock-ups, patterns, fabric samples. By this time, I’d completed most of the actors’ pants, and the infamous pumpkin pants had been worn all day, with, I’d like to point out, no problems. I stated as emphatically as I could in that meeting that I was fine. That I was, in fact, ahead of schedule, and that all was well. I thought that would be the end of it. It should have been the end of it. Smiles all around. D told me all was well. L told me I was great. I thought I’d finally laid to rest these shadowy "perceptions."
And then I hit my first snag. As everyone agreed, I couldn’t possibly do all the work myself. I’d given over the leatherwork to a leatherworker who agreed to wait for payment simply because she trusted me (work for which she herself was never paid), and turned over the tunics and doublets to two women who volunteered to take them on. Every single piece aside from those, I had worked on myself with no problems. And when I called to say that out of dozens and dozens of pieces, ten—TEN—would be late, I got absolutely no slack. At the very most, those pieces would have been ready for the next rehearsal, and except for dyework and finishing, I would have been done. I was never even given a chance to explain this. I was never given a chance to fix this problem—the decision to fire me was made on the spot, and I was made to drive five hours round trip and put in a full day at rehearsal while, it seems, everyone else on the staff knew I was to be fired.
The deadlines I was given, to costume a full cast with no shop, no supplies, promises of funds that never materialised, volunteers who disappeared, and open hostility and rudeness to me and my crew of volunteers, were unrealistic from the outset. No show should be costumed six weeks before it opens-- I can't tell you how many actors not only told me they were going to lose weight, as many often will, but actually did. Or, worse, gained weight. The wedding dress, for example, was checked against measurements three times, and still didn't fit. Most of the actors went from a winter of inactivity to weekly workouts. Your demands to have costumes a month and half before they were to be worn showed that none of you really had a grasp of the mechanics of costuming a full production. But I knew that going in, and I wanted this to work, so I agreed. I agreed knowing it would be a problem, and I probably should have said so.
I started my work with the understanding-- in my mind at least-- that I was a member of your team. That you would listen to me when I said what I needed, and would accept the needs of the costume department as every bit as valid as anyone else's. What I got was a lot of flak about how unreasonable I was being: demanding to see actors or having to change whom I needed to see and when. Every week I was promised money that never came, and in the end, I spent nearly $500 of my own money on materials I couldn’t wait for any longer—receipts for which I’ve still not been reimbursed. Every other week, I had to deal with volunteers who either disappeared or couldn't do what they said they could. I was never even given a full copy of the scripts, despite repeated requests which, really, I should never have had to make more than once. Somehow, I managed to adjust. I spent weeks drafting patterns, doing countless mock-ups, prewashing fabric by the carload, adjusting patterns, directing assistants, planning schedules, tracking down fabric and buttons and trim all over the Delaware Valley, swatching and dyeing, laying out patterns, cutting, and stitching. And when it came down to the delivery day, while yes, the external work had stalled, everything I'd set for myself, with the exception of a skirt and a pair of pants for a non-fighter, was done. I was missing, on the whole, a fraction of the total work. I brought a carload of costumes. I did an astonishing job. I did it with my own money. I did it mostly alone. I did it for free. And I was openly, publically castigated, humiliated, and fired.
I was treated abominably by all of you, and your assurances that you will start over again with another costumer or spend money you don't have to rent costumes you will never be able to keep is ridiculous and illogical. Not least, anyone else looking at my work in the unfinished state in which it was left will think it cryptic at best, and shoddy at worst, since they have no idea what I was doing or how I meant to continue with it. This is incredibly frustrating, and unbelievably painful.
I spent weeks fighting "perceptions" that should never have been my problem because no one backed up the faith they professed to have in me. Again and again I was forced to prove myself, as it became increasingly obvious that not a single one of you gave me the support I, as a supposed member of your team, should have received. I fell behind with my costumes ONCE, through circumstances that were unavoidable, and for which I took full and immediate responsibility. And for that, you took my baby from me. My baby, my creation, my love, my work, something to which I devoted months of my life, something I gave up paying work to do, something into which I poured my heart and soul and even a little blood. I hurt for my show in a way I don’t think any of you can possibly understand. I’m not an amateur. This is what I do. I was recruited for this show because I know more about costuming than all of you put together, yet somehow I was treated like an absolute idiot. I was insulted, talked about behind my back, treated like an annoyance, and shown nothing, in the end, but disrespect and distain. You got a professional costumer for free, and you wasted the opportunity. This was not about my work, which I know, and which everyone who worked with me knows, was good, solid, professional work that I had all but finished. What this was was a personality conflict, and you should all have the honesty to admit it.
Sincerely,
N
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for what it's worth
Date: 2003-05-13 06:04 pm (UTC)-heather