Yes, Virginia, there is a Renaissance Faire

I worked four Sundays at the Virginia Renaissance Faire this year. It was a lot of fun, and the lovely lady I worked with wants me to join the cast and be full-time next year. I did really enjoy it, but I'll have to think about it. It is a long way to go, though dad and I can drive together on Sundays.

VARF tends to be more historical than the MD faire, making most of what I have not really workable for this faire. It's also a few decades later than MD, and fashion does tend to change with the monarch. I dove into costume research (ah, heaven!), learning about styles and colors, and made a costume suitable for a peasant working in the militia outdoor kitchen, and that won't kill me in the VA May heat.

I did ask someone to take a picture of me in the full outfit, but I guess it didn't work, because it's not on my camera. So, you'll have to settle for these dressform pics.


The little white thing at the top is my caul or muffin cap. It is related to the snood, but counts as a hat in its own right, where a proper woman would don a hat over her snood when going out. I could or could not wear a hat over the caul, but it otherwise sits about where a snood would sit.

The bottom layer is the shift. A working woman would have two, one to wear while the other is being washed. I had to adjust mine a little. I found an historical pattern, but it made the sleeves too tight and I couldn't roll them up to my elbows, which is where I would want them when working about the fire. I had to rip the seams out and add some ties so I could wear them rolled up or all the way down as weather and what I was doing demanded.

I typically would wear a corset over the shift (if the corset was not built into the outer garment), but I forwent that because of the heat and wore a modern girdle underneath it all.

This style of overdress is called a kirtle. It can be boned or not boned, laced in front or in back, open to the floor or sewn up partially or all the way to the neckline. The kirtle typically had sleeves that you could tie on which were impractical in the heat and not a requirement, so I omitted them altogether. My kirtle laces in the back with fabric loops, which look nicer than grommets (that can rust and tear fabric when they fall out) in my opinion. One could also use hook and eye closures.


I dyed it blue because blue was an easy dye to come by. At first, woad was used, but the spice trade made indigo dye cakes readily available and cheap because they were so easy to transport. Everyone could get their hands on indigo dye, and it made a deeper, more permanent blue than the native woad. My dress faded nicely in the sun.

I made the apron and shoes (not pictured) out of wool, so they would not burn if I got too close to the fire. Also not pictured is my partlet. This little article of clothing covers the neck, chest, and back area that is not covered by the dress or shift. It is worn for warmth and sun protection. I didn't make it right away because it's not a required piece of clothing, but I got a nasty sun burn that first day and instantly learned the value of the partlet!

Maybe I'll throw the ensemble back on when I have some company and try to get a full shot for you!

I’ve been asked to increase my station a bit for next year. That’s really not possible. There were not a whole lot of class divisions in Elizabethan times. You were either nobility or you were a peasant – and peasants far outnumbered nobility. Even land owners and artisans were peasants. They were wealthy peasants, but peasants nonetheless. I think I will use the same kirtle design, but bolder colors and add some trim. Probably red, green, maybe another blue. The wealthy could afford deeper dyes, and afford to re-dye things to keep their richer colors, so that would step up my outfit a bit. I’ll have to think about it!

Great Show

Truth be told, if you've seen a Jeff Dunham DVD, his shows are just like it. Of course, the DVDs are recorded from shows, so that's to be expected. Our seats were really too far away in the 10,000-seat arena to see much other than watching on the big screen behind him. One of my coworkers kindly told me, "this is just not supposed to be a learning experience!" I suppose what I learned at my first live ventriloquist performance was some tricks of showmanship.

But, he brought out our favorite friends. Walter said they did a good job decorating the gym, which is the literal truth for this arena.


Achmed sang Jingle Bombs from the newest DVD (which I still need to purchase, but I have seen it). It's a little odd. I heard about Achmed from Turtle before I saw Spark of Insanity, and I wasn't sure I would like him. Jeff has a great talent for being funny without being offensive (in my opinion). And, if he is offensive, he tends to exclude no one. Well, except for the tree-hugging pagans. It's only a matter of time, I think....


José Jalapeño (on a Stick) was having some lockjaw issues (stick malfunction?), but Jeff worked it out behind the lid of the case. It wouldn't be a Jeff Dunham show without him and Peanut. I need a Peanut doll. They are so hard to find! Every now and then, I'll check eBay. Peanut runs a good $200 or so. I wonder if Jeff would be upset with me if I made a Peanut amigurumi. Hmm... I think I challenged myself....


When we all thought it was done, Jeff came back with Bubba J. He confessed that it had been some time since they worked together and needed to read from some "notes." But, that didn't matter, because the audience knew that part of the act, and were helping Bubba J with his punchlines (even though Bubba J said he knew his lines). That was actually amazingly funny, and Jeff was a great sport about it.


My last picture is . . . my ticket! I had a little practice puppet with me; one of my friends did not know I was studying ventriloquism. I'm no where near performance capacity, but I know I will complete my lessons this year. And, hopefully, I will finish building my first puppet too. When Phoenix's boyfriend visited us in October, he brought me a monkey puppet. I haven't found her voice yet but I'm working on it. The contingency was that I need to not scare his little daughter with it, who was terrified of the gray fuzzy thing. I'm working on that, too!


It was a great night. The show ran longer than both Phoenix and I expected it to, but I think that's great. I can't say the show wasn't worth the price I paid for it. I do hope I'll get a chance to see him again. Oh, and to whatever company owns the rights to Lamb Chop's Play Along: how about some DVDs, please?? We have so little opportunity to watch great ventriloquists in action.

There is No Underwear in Space

Because, apparently, George Lucas went to space and looked around and saw that there was no underwear.

I did know that gaffer tape was used to support Carrie Fisher in the first Princess Leia costume, but I did not know about Lucas' indisputable reasoning for it until last night.

It took us longer to get to the theater than we had anticipated, but we were still well on time. Have any of you theater-goers noticed that buying tickets online means the computer chooses what it thinks are the best seats available? This is a hit or miss kind of thing, the computer may choose wisely, or it may choose poorly. We lucked out, I think. Here's a view of the stage, post-show, from our balcony. And this theater is great: while available, any seat in the house is $12 for people under thirty. I picked from the most expensive groups of seats, still only $12 (the ticket price list indicates $10 seats with a $2 "facility charge." Just call it $12, people, you add those two bucks to every ticket!) for $76 seats. Wee!

I read a comment from someone who had seen an earlier version of Carrie Fisher's Wishful Drinking. This person said that she looked old (she's almost 52) and fat and her autobiographical one-woman play was all "boo-hoo, my parents were terrible and that's why I've led such a terrible life." I don't know what show that guy went to see, but I did not get that impression at all.

I think she spoke rather fondly of the people in her life; her parents, ex-lovers (she was married to one of my favorite singers, I didn't know that!), and even crazy, gaffer-tape obsessed directors. Her conversation was both frank and lighthearted. I call it a conversation, because it was really more like that than a play. There were several times when the house lights would come on -proper cup of coffee- so she could see and interact with the audience. She spoke with clever humor and the unique ability to laugh at herself.

Pretty much like everyone in the theater, I wanted to see this show because she starred in one of my all-time favorite movies ("if not, why are you here?!"). There is something about seeing American royalty in person that makes that far away place where film and television magic happens -proper copper coffee pot- seem not so far away. There was reality in it, especially in her upfront manner of speaking about the tragedies and accomplishments in her life.

No, it wasn't all doom and gloom. It was raw and funny, witty and candid. I'm glad I got the chance to see it, and I'd see it again if the opportunity presents itself. I'm glad Phoenix came with me too. We're hoping to do more things like this though, next time, we'll have to better judge how long it takes to ride the Metro into town.

Forget cold coffee eyes, I'll take rainbows in the high desert air.

And here's a little bit of Carrie's advice: vibrators make good stocking stuffers.

Method Acting

There are several ways of acting, but most seem to agree that an actor should not be outside the action of the character they portray. That’s the basis of method acting, pioneered by Constanin Stanislavski. Stanislavski method, the one most commonly taught in academia, relies on the actor drawing emotion from relevant life experience to find the emotion of their character. The flaw with this method is that it doesn’t offer insight if the actor hasn’t had a relevant experience upon which to draw.

This is part of the problem I found in college. Stanislavski method was the method that all of my teachers taught, and not one of them encouraged finding another method if Stanislavski’s didn’t quite work for us. I think his method is really against the principal of acting. Acting is a pretend, but if you’re drawing from your actual experience, you’re not pretending, you’re remembering. This "outside the box" thinking is the main reason why I was never cast in any of the shows through college. They didn’t like people whos thought processes contradicted what they were intent on teaching. Isn’t that how it usually goes?

So, I went elsewhere, to the local community college, where I found a class on Mikhail Chekhov method acting. The nephew of playwright Anton Chekhov, he was a student of Stanislavski and, I feel, found some of the same errors with his method that I did.

Chekhov developed a method of acting that was largely dependant on visualization and empathy. In contrast to Stanislavski’s turning of one’s own life experience to the character’s experience, Chekhov’s method involved identifying with the character and by that way feeling what they feel. It is more like becoming the character, rather than turning the character into parts of you.

I embraced this method. It was right up my ally, it used the strengths and skills I already possessed, and presented a much more fun way of exploring character. Is it not more entertaining to explore the lives of others than it is to delve deep into yourself to relate to someone? Isn’t that what you, dear blog readers, are doing right now? See how wonderful this is! I think it’s closer to human nature this way. The visualization techniques allowed me, the actor, to meet my character and chat with her, and really find out what was going on in her virtual head.

My last bit of work in college was for a character and scene study class. With a wonderful scene partner, I did an emotionally complex piece from Sam Shepard’s A Lie of the Mind. I had no life experience with which to relate to my character, so I worked on my own in the way that worked better for me. After the final presentation of our scene, a couple friends came up to me and told me they were crying. That is an accomplishment to me. The teacher of the class told me he was worried about how our scene was going to turn out and was very pleased at how well it did. I aced the class.

It’s a little odd. In preparing for my job interview-audition, I found that my preferred method of acting isn’t going to be as helpful as the method I didn’t embrace. Perhaps that’s a sign of a well-rounded actor, who can draw from within and without as necessary. Part of this conundrum is what makes me feel the monologue I’ve chosen is so right. Don’t worry, I’ll be able to tell you all about it when I’m done.

Feed Me, Seymour!

One of my coworkers saw the picture of poor sick Lily and said it reminded him of "that plant thing in that movie." He's talking about Audrey II, of course! I didn't try to give Lily any blood, but some nice fertilizer might make him happy.

Incidentally, Little Shop of Horrors was the first musical I was ever in. It's actually quite a fun show. I was only in the chorus, but I got to do some rather funny things. The chorus members were, of course, the urchins of Skid Row, and so had many rather disgusting habits when they appeared. At one point, I mimed picking my nose and offering my prize to one of the other urchins, who didn't want it. So, I offered it to the one on the other side of me, who mimed taking it and eating it, and gave me a big thumbs-up. We got a gratifying "ewwww" from the front rows of people who noticed the little exchange.

An actor named Rod was the puppeteer of Audrey II, which was mostly plywood in our budget. Rod had to wear a full green body suit with some rather ridiculous looking gauzy things sticking out all over. He also was Audrey II's foliage, you see, and in such a costume it wasn't bad to see him moving behind the prop. I remember Rod telling me how utterly scared he was to have to take his curtain call in that suit. He knew he looked silly in it, and wished there was time to change before coming out. There wasn't, and I told him no one would know what he did if he completely changed clothes anyway. In the end, Mr. Wadas, our director, insisted Rod and the person who did Audrey II's voice bow together, and no, there was no time for Rod to change. At the end of opening night, Rod stepped out in his unbelievably green get-up next to the voice actor, and the two of them received the absolute loudest cheer and applause of the whole company. That was a "you really love me" moment!

It was a rather morbid show for a Catholic high school to perform. I'm so glad we were able to get away with things like that!

Happy Midsummer!

Or Summer Solstice, or Litha, or whatever you want to call it! Meteorologically, Summer's been in full swing for some weeks now, which is why I prefer to call this special day Midsummer, and also that A Midsummer Night's Dream was the first play I was ever in.

The director of that show was a wonderful, kind person. He gave people chances. He gave me a chance, having no previous acting experience when I got to high school. I played the part of Peaseblossom. I had wild ponytails and a high giggly voice.

I really don't have much to say about this production, other than that it was my first and what made this my favorite Shakespeare play, and the start of the reason I studied acting in college.

Get out and enjoy the sunshine, everyone!

Running Low

Today, mom and I got up early. Dad left for opening weekend of the Virginia Renaissance Faire (the volunteer cast of which he is a member). So, mom and I got up and walked two miles to try to make up for the lack of exercise we did the past two days.

Then we did a little bit of the gardening. The lavender at the corners of the house needed to move to make room for the oak leaf hydrangeas, and I got up another big root that was once part of my maple. That was just the front yard! Then we headed to the back; mom mowed the lawn (we have a little non-electronic push mower) and I sprayed down the deck with weed killer and chucked the bits of root I had dug up into the backyard woods. Whew! Then it was off to my grandmother's for lunch and to take my aunt to the airport. That took quite a bit of our day because airports aren't exactly close and, of course, she flies from the one of three that is furthest away. It was a short visit before we sent her back to her husband in Park City. I did learn that she will next visit sometime in October.

After that it was home and nap time. We were both so beat! We slept a little longer than we had intended, but still got to a decent showing of Spider-man. People still reacted to the same part; one scene that hushed all the movie theater chatter.

You know, it's instances like this that made me want to go into acting. I think it's too easy to be on stage. You've got the audience right there, reacting to you, and you can adjust your performance if they don't seem to be reacting the way you intend. The camera doesn't give that kind of instant feedback. You must do your thing and hope you got it right the first time, because the camera won't tell you if you need to adjust your performance. That's more of a challenge to me. I wanted to be the person on that screen who, when doing something, made the audience gasp or cry or react to me even though I wasn't really there in their presence. I think being able to do that is what a screen actor should strive for. You're not just there to say your line and walk your part. You're there to connect, and you'll never know if you actually did it. It's not impossible.

So, eh-hem. Back to my day! After the movie, which my mother thought was very well-done, we went to Panera for dinner and came home with yummy lattes. I called Fox to confirm tomorrow's plans and heard the most dreadful news.

A year ago tomorrow, I wrote a brief blog entry congratulating some friends on their much-anticipated nuptials. These two people are long friends of my father, and friends of mine from my work at the Renaissance Festival. I learned tonight that Deanna's mother passed on a few days ago. Apparently, Fox told dad, and confirmed with dad that he would let me know, but no one let me know.

I'm disappointed in my father for not sharing this important news about a woman who is my friend. And, Dee, I'm so terribly sorry. Times like this makes the day to day seem rather unimportant.

The Swamps of Home

Many moons ago in a far off place....

Ok, if you know the show, you'll know today's post title and that opening line are not from the same song.

But, many moons ago in a not so far off place, I was in a production of Once Upon a Mattress, a musical based on The Princess and the Pea. The moon was May 1996 and I was a junior in high school. I was thinking about this show, you see, because I was going through the contents of a magnetic picture holder on my closet and came across this little gem.


That's yours truly as Lady Rowena with her beloved, Sir Eddie on opening night.

I have several stories about this show. The first is that most of my friends in high school were one year ahead of me, and in the drama club like myself, which means this was their last production. Well, now that I've said it, that was kind of sad. I miss them!

The director joked that I understudied the whole show. The thing is, I did! During one point or another of the production, there was always someone who was thinking of not doing it, or close to being cut from the cast because they didn't come to rehearsals, and there I was, ready to step in, fill in, and maybe get a bigger part. (Whoever said "there are no small parts, only small actors" was lying!) I didn't get any of those parts, because everyone who was on the verge of not being involved 'really wanted to do it' and so were allowed to do so. These were fairly good parts too, in the grand scheme of things: the Jester and Princess #12 to name two. Definitely a step up from a lowly lady in waiting.

I complained to the director about this, actually. She let them keep their parts even though they missed a lot of rehearsals and caused a lot of re-blocking. I was always there, I always knew my part and everyone else's, blocking and choreography too, I was always ready to step in and fill in. You know what she said to me? "You'll get the lead role next year." To which I said "Right." To which she replied, "you'll be a senior!" Like that's the reason someone gets a good part. I don't want a part because it's the end of my run, I want a part because they think I can do it. (As it turns out, my circumstances changed and I didn't want a lead role my last year, but that's another story for another time.) She gave us all cards at the end of the year. Mine read "I can't wait to see the one-woman show of Mattress!" You know, that bit part I had in The Miser may have been small, but it was earned. That's a story for another time too.

In this show, I was a lady in waiting. Well, I was a klutzy lady in waiting. In every scene, I stumbled or tripped or fell or was pushed over or fell asleep. And every time, no one laughed. Except the security guard, who had seen us rehearse and knew I was acting. He told me he got the nastiest looks from people in the audience when I did some comical "WHOOP!" as I fell over and no one but him was laughing. The grandmother of the girl who played the queen told her "How nice of the director to hire that poor handicapped girl. She must be so hard to work with in rehearsals. What does she have, a palsy?" "No, grandma, she's acting!" I milked it for all it was worth on closing night and got results. SO THERE! There was this scene near the end where the queen gives Princess Fred a sleeping draught (to make her sleep through the night and not notice the pea, right?). She didn't drink it all, so I finished it off. "GLUG, GLUG, GLUG!" And stood there, yawning. Suddenly snapping awake. Yawning some more. Before I just couldn't keep my eyes open and fell over (to show how powerful the draught was, get it?). They had to drag me off-stage, don't worry, it's in the script. Yeah, even that part didn't get noticed much until the end of the run. But I had them the last night!

I think that means the one woman show of Mattress would be something to see indeed!

Unexpected Tennessee

I'm sitting here at work, doing work, and a brief passage of a play I worked with in my first acting class has popped into my head.

"It's been too long a time since we've leveled with each other. Now tell me things. What have you been thinking in the silence, while I've been passed around like a dirty postcard in this city. Tell me. Talk to me. Talk to me like the rain and I will lie here an listen."

It was a fun exercise: we split into groups and broke the passage up into lines. Then we did a kind of freeze frame tableau, that may or may not include one of the lines from the passage. Each person in the group did their own thing, and when we put it together, there was some form of continuity. When we were done, we had a little scene where I was having an argument with one of my scene partners, and the other was trying to mediate. All from that one passage.

I'm not sure why it jumped into my head today, but it reminded me how much I enjoy acting.