Ana Kuzmanic
Costume Designer
Chicago
I read Desire Under the Elms several times in my native Serbo-Croatian language, but only after I read it in the original was I struck by the scarcity of language. While reading, I vividly imagined the bare farm with hardly any crop. There was no color, no tender emotions, only hatred rooted in the family history. Director Robert Falls set his bold Goodman Theatre production in a rocky New England landscape, suspending the house the protagonists are fighting for high in the air out of everybody's reach. I was greatly inspired by the personal nature of the writing, and wanted the costume design to be simple, yet evocative. The four male characters were larger than life: physically imposing, wearing colorless, blood-stained work clothes. In a world where "stone is put atop of stone until one's heart is made of stone," Abbie creates an immense impact. Wearing her red lacy dress, she was a breath of life, passion and femininity in the stony gray landscape of the Cabot farm. To accommodate the most delicate and magical moment in the play, scenographer Walt Spangler designed the house to open like a precious jewelry box and reveal the mother's room. This is the only moment when Abbie and Eben become one, and I wanted to contrast the elaborate, dusty, faded room with freshness of white undergarments and the actor's skin. For the final act of the play I chose conservative monochromatic clothes, inspired by the prints of Edvard Munch.
I recently saw the documentary Waste Land, spearheaded by Brazilian artist Vik Muniz. At the end of the film one of the protagonists exclaims, "Garbage cannot be re-used, but recyclables can, and we collect recyclables out of the garbage." While still under the impression of that documentary, I ran into the Wash Your...Wash Your Feet exhibit in Prague, created by graduating students of JAMU (Jánacek Academy of Performing Arts, Brno). The exhibit was tucked away in the furthest corner of Prague Quadrennial, next to the third-floor bathrooms (appropriately). On their way to the restrooms, audience members entered a strangely beautiful environment constructed of white glossy tiles, featuring miniature mossy green fields, strange music boxes, a slick throne, etc. After closer examination one would realize that everything in the environment was made of used bathroom supplies—including the stuff one never wants to see. And yet, one functions only a few feet away from these items every day. I was blown away by the immediacy of this silent interactive environment, which invited the audience to take active part in the performance creation. The activated music box morphed into a sadly growling wolf, the peaceful oasis became a thunderous jungle, and the friendly, smiley-faced punching bag squealed inconsolably. Once activated, the objects became characters in a dramatic and intellectual context, altering the atmosphere. I lingered between realizing the true forms of what I was looking at, and finding the magic in that reality by opening my mind.