SCR Artisans: Building a Little Structure

South Coast Repertory's Cutter/Drapper, Catherine Esera

Amadeus rendering by costume designer Alex Jaeger

When a costume designer meets with the show's director, they talk about the concept, look and needs for the production. When the final costume designs are turned in and approved, renderings are made and sent to South Coast Repertory's Costume Shop.And then, the next phase of building costumes happens.

So, how does an illustration go from page to fully realized and functional costume on stage? Catherine J. Esera, South Coast Repertory's cutter/draper, is a part of the team that makes it all happen. Esera first joined SCR as an overhire for the Costume Shop in 2003. Eventually, she was hired full-time as the cutter/draper in 2009.

"When I explain to people about what I do, my first step is to correct them: I am not a costume designer," explains Esera. "Then I tell them that once the designer draws the costume renderings and selects the fabrics, I am given those, along with the actors' measurements, and am told, 'Make it happen!'"

Marco Barricelli with Camille Thornton-Alson in a different pannier.

Over seven seasons, Esera has worked with numerous designers, crafted clothing spanning multiple eras and even built costumes that transformed actors into bugs and animals. A few shows have stood out over the years for her.

"In the Next Room, or the Vibrator Play was a huge costume show and my first big build on staff," says Esera. "Pride and Prejudice was fun to work on because of the huge fan base behind that title and because Paloma Young's designs were beautiful! Most of our Theatre for Young Audiences shows are a blast to work on. They're fast builds, but to pull off the fantastical with such unique materials is very challenging and fun."

For Amadeus, structure rules the designs, because many characters wear corsets, bum rolls and panniers. Esera was tasked with creating a pannier hoop skirt, which is a structure worn underneath women's skirts during late 18th century to create the overall shape and silhouette popular during that time. The pannier hoop is distinctive for its oval shape, rather than being formed in a circle.

Esera takes us inside her process with a step-by-step guide to building a pannier hoop.

Step 4

Step 1
"It's important to use several different sources for period research. I use  research as a guideline, rather than a law book. Since modern bodies are shaped differently than those of the past eras, putting all of the period seams in all the same spots just won't work. I also have to consider all the actor's physical needs, quick changes and maintenance for the performers' costumes. One of my sources was a book in our Costume Shop about Colonial Williamsburg clothing, which had photos and a pattern for a pannier hoop skirt. I read the description many times and scrutinized each photo. Then, I looked in other books and online for more photos and paintings of the same type of structure."

Step 2
"I scaled up the pattern from the book. Then, I took the "original" pattern and made it the proper size for the actor. I also made a few changes so it would be more theatre friendly—alteration points, added length, etc. I can never make anything just the way the books show. There's always some hot-rodding to be done!"

Step 5

Step 7

Step 8

Step 3
"I washed, dried and pressed the natural linen that was chosen for our piece. I cut out all but the yoke from the linen. Since the yoke had the most changes, I cut those pieces out of muslin to make it easier for any possible adjustments during the first fitting."

Step 4
"Then, I sewed the cut fabric together, including the padded side openings and the drawstring waist."

Step 5
"Amy Hutto, our Costume Shop manager, and I bought lengths of natural round reed at a local reed and cane store. To make the frame to shape, I traced out my shapes from the scaled/graded pattern onto a piece of plywood and hammered nails into the plywood at about 1" apart. There are four hoops in the skirt: one small, two medium and one large."

Step 6
"One at a time—because I've never done this before—I soaked each reed for a minimum of three hours using a rain gutter that I borrowed from our Scene Shop."

Step 7
"I removed the reeds from the water and slowly bent it around the frame of the nails. The top hoop was the most difficult because it was the smallest and had compound curves."

Step 8
"I let the reeds dry on the frame for several days each."

Step 9

Step 11

"To join the ends of the reeds together, I had to come up with my own method. According to my research, the original period method would have not been suitable for our needs. I used lengths of bamboo that had the appropriate size hollow that would fit around the reed. Too small wouldn't fit, but too big would not be secure enough and would potentially be dangerous for the actor. Since the bamboo was a bit brittle once the reed ends were inserted, I wrapped each piece with gaff tape to help stabilize it."

Step 10
"I threaded the reeds into the linen skirt to build the structure."

Step 11
"Finally, we fit the whole piece on the actor, made the necessary changes to the yoke, cut the modified yoke pieces out of the linen, sewed them onto the skirt and voila! Pannier hoop skirt complete with reed hoops!"

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Words by Peter Shaffer, Music by Mozart, Production by SCR

On May 13, the glorious music of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart wafted from stage to terrace as theatregoers—their rousing ovation ended—gathered at the Cast Party for Peter Shaffer’s Amadeus, the final production of the season.

To put the play in historical perspective, Amadeus opened the 1983-84 season at South Coast Repertory to rave reviews. This revival, more than three decades later, marks another auspicious occasion—SCR’s 500th production.

At the celebratory party, golden balloons, shaped as 500s, flew above while below, partygoers congratulated the actors—who had shed their wigs and Classical costumes, donned 21st-century outfits and joined the fun.

Everyone agreed that the theatrically splendid Amadeus, with its cast of 14 inimitable players was an impressive choice to end the 2015-16 season.

Honorary Produce Sandy Segerstrom Daniels led the praise, saying: "Amadeus was incredible! The cast performed as though they had been playing these roles for months. I hope to come back and see it again!"



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Mystery, Memory and Music in Peter Shaffer’s "Amadeus"

by Andy Knight

Asher Grodman, Marco Barricelli and Liesel Allen Yeager in Amadeus.

“Well, the genesis of Amadeus was, I suppose, a long-felt desire to celebrate Mozart in me, but the play actually is not about Mozart, fundamentally. It is about Salieri. It is about the nature of a man’s sense of injustice, and to me the crucial things in the play of Amadeus occur after Mozart’s death, to some extent, when Salieri…finally says to the audience, ‘I was wondering all this time when I would be punished,’ and comes to the conclusion that his punishment lay—because he survived Mozart by 30 years and was a huge success in Vienna, gigantic success, much more successful on the level of acclaim than Mozart—when he spent thirty years being called distinguished by people incapable of distinguishing.”

—Playwright Peter Shaffer

In 1823, the year that Peter Shaffer’s Amadeus begins, Antonio Salieri, at one time Vienna’s most celebrated composer, is past his prime. Now 73 years old, Salieri has lived long enough to see his music fall out of fashion and his influence in the Viennese court dwindle, as his role as the royal music director fades from a position of power to a mere title of respect. What’s more, the buzz around Vienna—“the city of Slander”—is that Salieri has gone mad: after all, the reclusive Italian won’t stop raving that he killed Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, the revered Austrian composer who died thirty years earlier. “I don’t believe it,” the gossips say. “All the same… Is it just possible? Did he do it after all?”

Only Salieri knows the truth, and as he waits for death, he begs the ghosts of the distant future—his audience—to hear his story, to know his truth once and for all. For their benefit, he revisits the past. “The year—to begin with—seventeen eighty-one,” says Salieri as he sets the scene. “The age still that of the Enlightenment: that clear time before the guillotine fell in France and cut all of our lives in half.”

At 31, Salieri holds the illustrious position of chamber composer in the Viennese court of Joseph II and is the model of success: his operas are loved in both Vienna and across Europe, his musical taste is exquisite and his skill at court politics is undeniable. But the pious Salieri knows that success doesn’t come for free; he believes that God bestows His gifts on only the most righteous, the most deserving. The composer, therefore, commits himself to serving God through music and to leading a virtuous life as a show of gratitude.

But then Salieri meets Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, wunderkind composer and enfant terrible. Mozart is gaudy, bawdy and petulant—but a remarkable talent. It’s not long before Salieri recognizes his own music is, at best, adequate next to Mozart’s—amusing trifles in the shadows of great works of art—and he’s consumed by jealousy. How could a just God give so much to someone so small? And how could the Almighty withhold the same kind of talent from Salieri, his greatest attendant? As Salieri’s envy grows, he wages a war against God, and Mozart is the battleground. “What use, after all, is Man,” Salieri points out, “if not to teach God His lessons?”

Portrait of Salieri by Joseph Willibrord (circa 1814).

Portrait of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart by an unknown artist (circa 1788–90).

In Amadeus, Peter Shaffer, author of Equus and Lettice and Lovage, brings his story of jealousy and revenge to life using a technique in which the present and past (in Amadeus’ case 1823 and 1781-91, respectively) exist at the same time. On what he believes is his last night alive, Salieri conjures up the past and both participates within it and comments upon it (from the vantage point of the present). Time and location change frequently, but there is no interruption, no breaks between scenes; instead, the audience is ushered from event to event by Salieri, with a fluidity that allows the sweeping story to pick up momentum as its suspense grows.

But Shaffer also complements Amadeus’ storytelling with musical elements—not just with the play's use of music in the literal sense, but also with its nods to operatic forms. For example, Amadeus begins when “savage whispers fill the theatre” chanting “Salieri.” This chorus is quickly replaced by the Venticelli, two “little winds,” or gossips, who tell the audience about Salieri’s confession of murder. The sequence functions much like an introductory movement—or overture—to the play. Beyond that, one might describe Salieri’s monologues as the play’s arias; or discover that the word games between Mozart and his wife Constanze contain the rhyming patterns of song lyrics; or even find motifs from Mozart’s operas, like blackmail (The Abduction from the Seraglio) or destructive fathers (Don Giovanni), dropped into Amadeus.

“While it’s not a musical, it functions like one,” says director Kent Nicholson, who returns to SCR after directing the 2014 production of The Light in the Piazza. But it’s not only the musicality and epic scope that draw him to the piece: “I think people will be surprised how funny Amadeus is…I think that to make people have a profound experience, they have to laugh first.”

To bring Amadeus to life, Nicholson has assembled a creative team of SCR favorites. The design team includes set designer John Iacovelli, whose many SCR credits include this season’s production of Abundance; costume designer Alex Jaeger, who recently designed costumes for the world premiere of Office Hour at SCR; lighting designer Lap Chi Chu, who designed this season’s world premiere of Future Thinking; and sound designer Darron L West, who designed last season’s world premiere of Of Good Stock.

The cast of Amadeus includes SCR veterans, as well as newcomers. Marco Barricelli, whose successful career includes roles on Broadway and at the top regional theatres across the country, returns to SCR after last appearing in the theatre’s 1996 production of The Taming of the Shrew. Asher Grodman makes his SCR debut as Mozart. The cast is rounded out by Christian Barillas, Mark Capri, Peter Frechette, John-David Keller, Louis Lotorto, Louis Pardo, A.J. Sclafani, Camille Thornton Alson and Geoffrey Wade, all of whom have appeared in previous SCR productions, as well as Bo Foxworth, Cynthia Marty and Liesel Allen Yeager, who are making their SCR debut.

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Casting Call: Taking on Salieri and Mozart

Actors Talk About Taking on Iconic Roles in Amadeus

Marco Barricelli as Salieri and Asher Grodman as Mozart in Amadeus.

Marco Barricelli

Asher Grodman

Asher Grodman starts the conversation with a secret: for years, he has wanted to work with actor Marco Barricelli. Both are cast in Sir Peter Shaffer’s Amadeus (Segerstrom Stage, May 6-June 5, 2016)—Barricelli as Antonio Salieri and Grodman as Mozart.

“This is a dream come true for me,” says Grodman. “Marco is amazing because of both the ease and power that he works with.”

As for a revelation from Barricelli, read on to find out about that and more as the actors talk about taking on the iconic roles in Sir Peter Shaffer’s award-winning play.

On what drew them to the play

Barricelli: I had never considered playing Salieri until SCR offered it to me. But I had seen the original Broadway production a dozen or so times, with Sir Ian McKellen as Salieri, Tim Curry at Mozart and Jane Seymour as Constanze. It is a great play—and we all want to do “great” plays, right? The role of Salieri also is one of those unscalable mountains: one can never satisfactorily scale it; it is the attempt that is all important. I also enjoy hearing all of the glorious music.

Grodman: The play is brilliant and the role of Mozart is like a playground for any actor. He's like a rubber ball being thrown against a jagged wall: You don't know where it's going, but you know it's going there fast! He's filled with contradictions—he's genius, child-like nature, rebellion and desperate need for approval.

On what’s challenging and fun about their characters

Barricelli: The truth is that I am not a person who likes sweets, but Salieri does and he uses sweets as his substitute for sex, at least to begin with. I think the most challenging thing for me has been the stamina it takes to get through the whole performance; it’s a long play and Salieri never leaves the stage.

I used to think that acting was being unrecognizable on stage; now I know it to be revealing who and what you are. If you can honestly reveal yourself, then it has some truth, and truth allows you and the audience to believe. That’s our job: we make belief—we “make believe.”

Grodman: The play, the cast and the director ar the best things about coming to work each day. In terms of my own work, the most challenging and the most fun have been working with the breadth of the story and and navigating the twists and turns. So much happens: Mozart goes through numerous life-altering moments and responds to them in big ways, but they go by quickly (in the blink of an eye). In addition, the dynamics of the relationships are constantly shifting throughout the play, often because Mozart is so impulsive.It's a bit of an obstacle course for an actor, that that's a lot of fun! I also love the moments when Mozart gets the approval he so desperately needs and when he watches his own work come to life. For me, that's a wonderful feeling.

Characters inspired by actual people

Barricelli: Frankly, as Shakespeare says, “the play’s the thing.” I’m not on stage to perform historical research; I’m performing Mr. Shaffer’s play. It may be interesting to learn some things about the real Salieri, but at the end of the day, we are doing the playwright’s image of Salieri.

Grodman: The play isn't the history, but because there are so many resources out there—like Mozart's music and his letters—I feel that there's a lot of fuel to broaden my own imaginative landscape. I've found that those resources have helped me fall in love with the man.

My favorite line in the play—”My tongue is stupid. My heart isn't.”—is him in a nutshell. He doesn’t know how to communicate, but he knows when he has something that is worthy to say through music; it is pure and it comes from his heart.

If you could share a meal with Mozart or Shaffer

Barricelli: Oh, I’d be too intimidated to have any sort of intelligent conversation!

Grodman: I don't think I'd be invited, but I wonder if Mozart—at least Mozart as he appears in Amadeus—would tease Shaffer for needing five drafts for his play!

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"Amadeus:" A Refresher on the Story

It’s 1781, and Antonio Salieri holds the illustrious position of chamber composer in the Viennese court of Emperor Joseph II. Salieri is the model of success: his operas are loved in both Vienna and across Europe, his musical taste is exquisite and his skill at court politics is undeniable.

But the pious Salieri knows that success doesn’t come for free; he believes that God bestows His gifts on only the most righteous, the most deserving. That is until Salieri meets Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, wunderkind composer and enfant terrible. Mozart is gaudy, bawdy, petulant—and a remarkable talent.

It’s not long before Salieri recognizes his own music is, at best, adequate next Mozart’s—amusing trifles in the shadows of great works of art—and he’s consumed by jealousy. How could a just God give so much to someone so…small? How could the Almighty turn his back on Salieri, his greatest attendant?

As Salieri’s envy grows, he wages a war against God—with Mozart is the battleground.
Amadeus by Peter Shaffer runs May 6-June 5, 2016, on the Segerstrom Stage.

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Director’s Notes: Kent Nicholson Talks About "Amadeus"

Mozart by Johann Nepomuk della Croce (1736–1819)

Amadeus Synopsis

Vienna, 1781. The city is abuzz with the arrival of young Mozart who can write an opera a week, but can’t control his exuberant giggling and notorious libido. Antonio Salieri—until now the royal court’s most lauded musician—recognizes Mozart’s genius and does everything to thwart the success of this enfant terrible. Will that include murder?

Kent Nicholson takes a moment to think about the nearly four-decade popularity of Peter Shaffer’s Amadeus: “While the play is epic in scope, it’s also a very personal story,” he says. “And I also think passion, lust and lust for power resonate with audiences!” he adds, laughing. He will direct Shaffer’s play, which concludes South Coast Repertory’s 2015-16 season (May 5-June 6, 2016).

Since its 1979 London debut (with a first SCR production in 1983), Amadeus has drawn in audiences through Shaffer’s simple, yet powerful storytelling. (See the synopsis, right).

We asked Nicholson to talk more about Amadeus.

Why does the play remain popular?
One of the themes in Amadeus is transition. The late 18th century was a huge period of political transition and transformation: the American Revolution had just happened, the Austrian Empire was starting to collapse and other revolutions—including the French Revolution—were sweeping Europe. I think our world today reflects some of that transition and transformation, so I don’t think it’s an accident that this play keeps coming back.

Mozart himself stood at a time of transition in the arts, when people’s thinking began to change about art, life and what has value. He actually ushered in the Romantic era, but we don’t think of him in that way; we think of Beethoven as the first Romantic, but he was Mozart’s student.

There’s also something universal about how Antonio Salieri experiences the world in the play and his potential for mediocrity. The play talks about two choices that everyone has: to recognize the future and embrace it or recognize the future and destroy it. I think Salieri recognized the future—the transition that was coming—didn’t know what to do with it and so he tried to destroy it.

Was Mozart a rock star in his time?
He was a rock star as a child prodigy when he toured Europe, but that may have been more about the novelty of watching an eight-year-old play the keyboard. Mozart often was rejected during his lifetime and died relatively poor, at the age of 35. After his death, his wife began selling his works and when people began to rediscover his music, he became wildly popular.

Mozart is more like Vincent van Gogh or Jeff Buckley, both of whom became more famous after their deaths.

What’s the difference between the film and the play?
They tell the same story, but they don’t use the same script. Film director Milos Forman didn’t use the play script, he adapted it and used all the tools of cinema to create some spectacular visuals—like Mozart’s opera, Don Giovanni.

In the stage version, we’re much more inside Salieri’s head and that lets us use all the tools of theatre for visual storytelling with an emphasis on the words. Costume and set changes help us move through time, from Salieri as an old man to his younger self, a contemporary of Mozart. The cast is smaller—just over a dozen actors—and we have some actors playing multiple roles. Music, of course, is important and it is woven throughout the play.

What can you tell us about the creative designs for SCR’s production?
I direct a lot of musicals and what I enjoy is the pure emotional experience those bring [Editor’s note: Nicholson’s last SCR production was The Light in the Piazza]. To me, Mozart’s music is some of the most beautiful ever, so we’re being given the opportunity to shape the full experience of the play by weaving the music through it. While it’s not a musical, it functions like one, which is another reason that I wanted to direct Amadeus.

The set will have realistic elements and also things that hint back to theatre design of that era. There are about 80 costumes and they will be accurate, historical representations of the time period. They will help tell the story visually by indicating where the story is in time, taking us from the 1820s when Salieri is an old man back to the 1780s. In that 40-year-span, fashions and culture changed dramatically.

Can you tell us about the play’s humor?
I think people will be surprised by how funny, Amadeus is! This is not a farce, with comic bits and set-up pieces; the humor comes from human folly, like members of the royal court whose own sense of self-importance becomes completely ridiculous. Mozart’s childishness also is appealing, but that is part of what destroys him. I think that to make people have a profound experience, they have to laugh first.

What do you want audiences to take away?
I want people to feel that they’ve experienced something extraordinary. Amadeus is at the same time a spectacular but very human play. We don’t see those two things working together very often in theatre. That’s what theatre does very well: turns the personal into something more.

Give us three words that describe Amadeus.
Love, jealousy and murder (laughing).

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