Petting Pantry Pretty

Photo by Leora Saul www.glasseye.org

Here's a cute shot of my Flower Duet fan dance from Petting Pantry a few weeks ago.

My Final Reveal: Spending, Supplies & Solutions

I grew up in a family of eight.  I really hate spending money.  I used to love spending money because I grew up with very little of it.  I've become a tightwad in my old age.  I've spent $112.72 in less than 24 hours for supplies for this costume.  I know; it'll all pay off.  But I'm still a little bitchy about spending money.

Yesterday Andrew picked up some gold fabric paint for the designs on the panels.  He picked up what appeared to be two different kinds of paint (one said metallic & came in a six-pack with other paints, the other said glitter).  He discovered they were the same paint upon getting them home.  (Unfortunately, not all stores permit returns and exchanges, so this will just fall into the overbuying category, like all the glitter and paintbrushes I bought but didn't use for my shoes.)  He also got brushes with good tips to make the painting easier.  That was a $24.95 trip.

Today I picked up some rhinestones so I could power through the yoke embellishments this weekend.  Last night I worked out how I can vary the stones when I was hanging out with costume buddy Evie Lovelle.  My first stop at Bohemian Crystal was a challenge because they didn't have the AB stones in the small size I really needed.  I still spent $28.75 on Preciosa stones (my weapon of choice because they look nice and cost less than Swarovskis).  I popped next door to Beads & More to try to get my 3 mm (ss10) AB stones.  They had them in 10 gross packs ... for $46 a pack.  The lady behind the counter tried to justify the ridiculous price (3mm stones -- seriously?) by saying they were Swarovski.  I turned her down on those and bought some other stones for $26.06.  (Yes, they were Swarovski but they were the big ones they didn't have next door.)  I still didn't have my 20 gross of 3mm stones.  I crossed the street and checked the shelves of Nova.  They had a sign that advertised Korean rhinestones.  They had my stones (not AB though) for $2.33 a gross, same price for hotfix (glue baked on the back) as for plain stones.  I grabbed 20 packets and headed for the counter.  The clerk offered me two 10 gross packs of the same stones for $29.80.  Hell yes!  Sure, they're Clarus stones.  They're also 3mm so they don't have to be incredibly brilliant.  I blew $88.62 on stones today.

I didn't include the cost of my hotfix tool ($24.95) in my spending for this costume.  I bought it so I have more tools at home, but I needed it immediately for this project.  It works pretty well, but I'm still getting used to it.

Last night I had my Evie time, drinking wine and solving costume problems.  She had some wonderful tracing paper that helped me transfer the design to the yoke.  I also got the crazy-making design put on a sheet the length of each panel to make painting easier.  I managed to work out my rhinestone shopping list as well.  I spent an hour working on the costume (and plenty more shooting the shit).

Today's shopping took 40 minutes.  I'm okay with the flat stones mixed with the AB, and the varying quality of stones I purchased.  When I got home, I spent an hour with the hotfix tool and put rhinestones on the yoke.

I got the snappers transferred and have a solution for the crazy design on the panels.  I'm ready for a nap after the problem solving, but I don't have time to sleep yet.  "No rest for the wicked, Red," my dad always said.

Total spent so far: $331.22 and 30:35.

My Final Reveal: I Need a Drink

I had a quiet hour at the ol' day job, and I have tons to do in the next two weeks.  I brought in some costume stuff to work on, getting my wish of some quiet time to work on things.  I was going to trace the screwy design onto a panel (drape) for my dress, then transfer the snapper to the skirt yoke.  Seemed simple enough.


I traced a nice chunk of the screwy design onto the drape, then realized how long it would take to finish tracing the design onto the skirt panels.  Then I'd have to take the sequins to it.  The design was so small it would be horribly tedious.  I saw a future where I was angry, yelling at the sequins and cursing the designs.  To avoid that future, I enlarged the design.  I'm going to trace it onto one sample panel, then enlist m'love to make it happen with gold paint.  He has better dexterity than I do, even though his handwriting is generally terrible.  He also doesn't get the pesky carpal tunnel crap that I do.


After that madness, I thought I could easily trace the snapper design he created last night onto the yoke.  Wrong again!  I used a tracing wheel to put holes in the design, then took a water soluble marker to the holes it made.  That didn't work very well.  I used light and shadow to find the edges of the design from the tracing wheel on the yoke, enabling me to scrawl out the rough silhouette with the marker.  I still need help.  I didn't get the other side done, and I saw a horrible future with me yelling at the skirt yoke.  It will be much easier to enlist his help again, even if it costs me another steak dinner.  (I'd make him the steak dinner anyway.)


I'm not counting any of the time that other people are putting in on my project, and I'm not counting any time I "trade" services for help.  I'd wind up helping those folks anyway.


Somebody get me some rum.


Total spent so far: $218.50 and 27:55

My Final Reveal: Sewing the Baby to Sleep

Buster is one fabulous dog.  When we got him last year, I was afraid he wouldn't adjust to being a showgirl's dog. He didn't react well to the stripping, the feather fans, the gowns, the fabulousness.  Now he's all too comfortable with all of it.  He loves gowns, and he's been fascinated with the panels for my skirt since I brought the fabric home.  Tonight he fell asleep in the panels while I gathered them.

I spent over an hour gathering the back section of the skirt by hand.  I wanted to be sure it was the right length and that the gathers were even, particularly since I had a lot of fabric to gather.  I'm pleased with how it turned out.  The rear panel is full and will allow me to use the skirt as I've been instructed by legends.

In other news, I got my bracelet today and it's perfect.  Since it takes a team to make a showgirl, I enlisted the help of Mr. Snapper to sketch out a design for my yoke and for my bra back.  I'm looking forward to tracing this onto the yoke and starting the rhinestone process.  I'm glad he's on my team.

Total spent so far: $218.50 and 26:55

Red Snapper's Wild Ride

Here's something ridiculously fun for your viewing pleasure.  Shot by my friend Jason at Burlesqueland IV.

Snapper on the Half Shell

This was shot yesterday by the amazing Amanda Brooks.  Hair & makeup by the wonderful Vivienne Vermuth.  Pasties by my dearest Evie Lovelle.  Body by Snapper.

Amanda Brooks is a resident of Los Angeles.  Please contact her via her website for rates and information on shooting with her.

Vivienne is a resident of Dallas.  (She always makes me so pretty!)  Please contact her via her website for rates and information for makeup and hair.

Evie is wonderful, as I'm sure you know from all of my posts about her.  I should probably give her a tag.

Diplomacy

(I also posted this on our online theatre journal.)

From the New Oxford American Dictionary:

the art of dealing with people in a sensitive and effective way: his genius for tact and diplomacy

                                                                                                            

Creative types are sensitive.  It takes guts to put yourself out there, to present your interpretation of something for the world to see, hoping that they understand your creation and make a connection with your product. The job of being an artist is full of vulnerability and subjectivity. And you don’t always get the necessary feedback until the job is done, long after you could have really used it. 

I work in the lively arts.  I know that I have to constantly improve my product so my audiences are entertained.  They pay me to entertain them; the least I can do is strive to provide them with the best entertainment I can create.  That way I can have longevity in this field.

As a dancer, I have a few trusted collaborators whose honest feedback and suggestions helps me improve my work.  I’ve paid experts in my field for performance reviews, getting their valuable feedback on how to make stronger choices, replace weak choreography, and add flourishes--like sprinkles on a sundae. 

It’s scary to ask for someone’s honest opinion, and I don’t ask for it from everyone.  Remember that old saying that “opinions are like assholes?” Mix that with the saying about too many cooks in the kitchen.  That’s why I don’t solicit opinions from everyone on my creative works.  That, and I don’t want to come off as desperate and in need of validation.  But it is important to get honest feedback in order to improve what I’m doing.

I understand the validity of criticism via word-of-mouth and media.  How else are people going to know what to expect from a show?  This isn’t the feedback I seek to improve my works, but rather how Joe Public and Joe Critic receive my works.  I’ve gotten some great verbal and written critiques.  (“We decided to come to the show because you were on the lineup.”  “I just had to meet you because you were my favorite.”  “…these costumes were engineering marvels.”)  I’d also include the stuff said to the producers after the show, the coffee shop chatter where people are still talking about the show a few days later, and fellow entertainers wanting to book me for shows based on a performance.

I’ve also gotten some negative critiques.  Those aren’t awesome to experience when I’m putting myself out there, when some performances are way more personal than others:  Out of place, low self-esteem, fat, unsexy (which really sucks because my lively art is in the field of sexuality).  I’ve been turned down for shows and festivals with no specific feedback about my submission given.  (I can’t blame the producers on the last one because they do get a lot of applications and they’re trying to make a cohesive and entertaining show.  It would be like giving feedback to every actor who auditions for your play or short film.  I’m looking at this from the receiving end right now.)  The negative critiques sting.  Sometimes I want to get into online fights (or physical fights because I’m aggressive-aggressive) over some of the criticisms that seem unfounded or unrelated to my work.  Sometimes the person giving the criticism appears to be the modern-day definition of a bully, saying something that hurts my feelings.  Usually I’ll rant to my most trusted friends about my feelings, about the misperception and the bullying of my work.  Then I’ll grab a beer, grumble, and go to bed.

I get up the next day and get back to creating.  Why?  Because I am an artist.  This is what I do. 

I’ve spotted three kinds of negative reviews:

1.     What I did was not their cup of tea.  My music choice, my costume, my body, my dance style, whatever.  I don’t eat fish.  No matter how brilliantly you prepare a fish dish, I’m not going to eat it.  I can’t really change anything about what I did to become their cup of tea.

2.     They had a bad day and that affected their viewing of the work.  Try as I might to lighten someone’s mood with entertainment, sometimes the outside world has set the viewer against enjoying anything.  Maybe they didn’t want to be there in the first place, so we get to be the butts of their frustration.  I can try to make them forget about their troubles, but it’s not my fault if they come in so stuck in their problems they aren’t really watching the show.

3.     There’s room for improvement.  It’s not always easy to have someone broadcast your apparent weaknesses, especially when they’re weaknesses you didn’t catch in your rehearsal process.  As an independent artist, I can make changes immediately, not having to ask someone for permission.  If the criticism will help me create a better piece of entertainment, I try to implement it.  As an actor, I would have to yield to the director/producer/playwright.  There are more people involved in the creative side of the work than just me.

As a dance teacher and director, I understand the investment and vulnerability of artists.  I keep that in mind when I work.  I push for the best technique that person can achieve, the greatest investment they can give, and the strongest representation of the vision for the piece (whether their vision for a dance or my vision for a play).  I validate what they get right, and I encourage them to improve the entertainment value of the weaker parts.  (I blogged about how I teach here.)

I’m also a play critic.  My husband does way more reviews than I do, but we discuss every show we see together and sometimes I do reviews.  We look for what was done well, what was especially noteworthy that audiences will not want to miss.  We also look for what might turn audiences off, what elements stood out as falling short of the mark, what people might want to know before dropping $15 to $35 a ticket on the show.  I have absolutely hated some shows we’ve seen.  (I know that isn’t very nice to say.  I’m not naming names, but these shows are the reason I want snacks in the theater so I can keep my mouth occupied and not spend the entire play grunting and sighing about something that I think sucks.)  Of course, it’s not polite to say something sucks, especially when you don’t give a logical reason for it.

The true test of being a critic (or coach or collaborator) is being diplomatic.  If you’re good at your job, you can successfully tell an audience what they need to know while giving useful criticism and encouragement to the artists who are most intimately invested in the piece.