Frankenstein, 2024

In April of this year, the set builder of Frankenstein asked me to join his team as set designer. I tried to make it very clear to everyone that I had literally no experience designing a set and really had no idea what I was doing. That's ok, they said, you'll be fine. They gave me one requirement: "Use this giant 14'x8' platform, and make it rotate. Make sure it doesn't hit the new video screen." Ok, I said. And so I did.

I am not one to do anything halfway. If my name is attached to something, I give it every bit of myself that I can. (internal thought: maybe I should chill) In the face of uncertainty, I did what I do best - MAKE A LIST. I wrote down every bit of information I had. I took measurements of every building piece screwed to the walls of the theatre. I measured and remeasured the space. I bought foam board and made scale models. I made handouts for the production team. I wrote a booklet with every measurement the set builder would need. Again, no chill.

The play needed seven separate scenes (graveyard, sitting room, laboratory, cabin exterior, cabin interior, chateau grounds, and Elizabeth's bedroom), easily changed with minimal effort and a 4 person crew. With minimal storage space backstage and in the wings, all large pieces needed to remain on stage throughout the show. In addition to 2 shark-tooth scrims and a rolling cabin on a platform, the 14'x8' rotating platform and staircase remained on (relatively small) stage for the entire show and combined for all scenes.

There were so many sleepless nights. I would wake up from dreams where I was building the set in my sleep LEGO Master Builder style. From April until August my thoughts were consumed on how to make it work. I was stuck in all of my thoughts until the pinnacle of the set came to me on a long drive: the staircase.

I couldn't have asked for a better set builder and set painter to collaborate with. Much like Victor himself, the set builder brought my designs to life. Every day I walked into the theatre, a new piece had been built. The set painter was an incredible artist, and I was so thankful to have worked with them. They brought the perfect amount of grime, disuse, and gore to the set that really set the tone for Victor's madness. 

Of course there were problems along the way. It was a huge, heavy set. Before opening, the staircase needed all of the casters replaced so that it could roll with ease. The set builder came in, jacked it up, fixed it, and left before I even got to the theatre. The most painstaking part of all (read: the part where I almost lost my mind) was when the paint on the stage floor bubbled up and peeled a week before tech. Three 6-12 hour days of scraping paint so that I could paint the floor again took a huge toll on my health. 

In what feels like a super small side-note, I also painted a large tapestry of Prometheus for the bedroom wall that was only visible in one scene. Could have chosen to do something else that didn't stress me out so much? Sure! Did I choose something else? No! And now I get to see my painting every night as I help backstage moving the set. 

I am so proud of what I've done. I didn't think it was possible for me to do something like this. I tried to tell people I wasn't capable of it. Thank god they didn't listen to me.