Theatre Design & Technology - Spring 1981 - 10

Old pattern.

New pattern.

pealed to me as an excellent alternative, should the costume
need more volume.
A scaled garment did not yield much information about how
the larger piece would behave when tossed about by the
dancer. Using a fabric other than silk as a full-scale pattern
test piece would also tell us little since we would be using the
lightest weight silk in the finished costume and there was
nothi~g cheap enough available approximating such a weight,
nor did we have the time to spend constructing such a mammoth rehearsal robe. The dancer needed to work with the actual costume to even begin rehearsal.
We decided to purchase fifty yards of the lightest weight
white silk available directly from the American Silk Mill's discount store. As it turned out, it was necessary to supplement
our silk purchase with a fine polyester chiffon, because there
was not quite enough silk of the weight we needed in stock
and special ordering would mean sacrificing the discounted
price--something we could not afford to do.
The costume shop supervisor and I scaled up the pattern to
full size on the floor of the scene shop using six foot wide
brown craft paper, carpenter's tape measures, and chalk
snap lines. There were twenty-nine pieces to the circle--all
different widths and lengths. The longest gore was thirteen
feet and the shortest was five feet. Since the circle had a
shaped perimeter, it was necessary to keep the pieces labeled
and in order.
It took two days to cut. The carpeted floor of the theatre
lobby provided the perfect cutting area; hinges from the scene
shop acted as pattern weights in lieu of pinning.

The silk and polyester were arranged alternately in an attempt to balance the weight distribution. Each numbered pattern piece was rolled up with the cut fabric and brought back
downstairs to the costume shop to be sewn together. Although French seams would have provided a more finished
looking costume upon close examination, they were not used
in an attempt to eliminate excess bulk and weight. Also, this
technique would have doubled the time spent in stitching.
In order to avoid a concentric spiralling effect "in sewing the
circle, I divided the circle into quarters. After sewing the
pieces comprising each quarter, the four units were joined to
complete the whole.
Cases were made for the bamboo poles which extended
the dancer's arms allowing larger gestures and further control
over the twelve feet of fabric falling from either side of her
head. The canes were held onto her wrists with elastic bands
allowing her to drop the canes and free her hands for som~
movements and recover control of them with relative ease
when necessary. The far end of the canes were attached to
the inside of costume along a seam with about twelve inches
slack over the cane's length. The idea of encasing the canes
in a seam was discarded in the belief that it would provide a
less flexible dance costume and an overall rigid silhouette.
A hole in the center (the center being where all gores met)
of the circle allowed the costume to slip over the dancer's
head and hang from her neck and shoulders. It was held in
place with elastic strips crisscrossing under her arms and
breasts. Underneath this parachute affair the dancer wore
flesh-colored tights and a leotard. Her feet were bare. A midcalf, sheath-like garment held up with elastic casing under her
arms was added later in rehearsal to further obscure her body
which at times had been delineated by the low side lights and
the colored light wheels from beneath the platform on which
she danced. Although the revelation of such a silhouette may
have been the attraction of some of the dancers in Lore Fuller's time, it was not the objective of this performance.
A headdress to further deny the identity of the dancer, suggested by the choreographer/director, was discarded as
being too cumbersome for the dancer, beside giving her a
"Middle Eastern" look.
The first rehearsal was devastating. The fabric seemed to
weigh a ton and none of us seemed to know what to do with
it-we sat there'looking at a couple of hundred dollars worth
of silk lying lifelessly on the floor.
Realizing that this was the beginning of the dancer and the
fabric evolving to work together was somewhat fortifying. Perhaps the reason we were so disheartened initially and why,
upon writing of this experience, I have been compelled to devise yet another pattern for the same dance, is that traditional
theatre practice conditions us toward an almost finished product when an actor/dancer dons their "real costume." A finished costume can be placed on a dress form and recognized
as pleasing or successful, as a tangible end product flirting
with a dangerous preciousness all its own. There was no
denying we had a tangible object into which hours of work and
research had gone; but even at the cost of silk, it lay there refusing to be precious.
The pie-like construction made alteration easy. Short, wide
gores were removed to eliminate weight. Edges were ripped to
enhance a fluttering effect and gradually the dancer took control of the fabric learning how to make it move.
The costume worked. However, in retrospect there are
some changes that I would make. I see no reason for the circle
to be shaped as drastically as I orginally had it. It seems a
rounded-edged triangle cut from bias strips would work with
bias-cut gores on the perimeter, offering enough movement,
without tearing into the body of the shape, to create the desired fluttering and snapping effect of flame. I have no complaint with the polyester chiffon supplement to the silk, although I would very much like to see how silk cut from this
new pattern would moven
Jean E. Gonzalez is a freelance costume designer.

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