The Play That Goes Wrong, 2024

I have never laughed so hard as I did while working on the set of The Play That Goes Wrong. This play took months for our little community theatre to prepare for, and I can't believe I got to be a part of it.

I kind of weaseled my way into being part of the set crew (whoops), not knowing that even in a tiny community theatre, oftentimes the crew is chosen months in advance. A month or two before the show opened there was a call for volunteers who were willing to help build or decorate the set. At this point I had acted in two other plays but had never been part of any production team or backstage crew. So I showed up to the theatre that day - hadn't told anyone I was coming - and told the director I was there to help. He asked if I could attach a magnet latch to a grandfather clock door. Sure, no problem. I went back to ask what he wanted me to do next and he said, "Um, okay, what else can you do?"

"Well," I said, "I can paint."

To be clear, I had never heard of this play at the time and did not know what I was signing up for. He showed me a picture of inspiration for elevator doors and I said, "Sure, I can paint that." What is wild to reflect back on is that he just let me do it without seeing any of my work. I'm so happy he did! In all, the doors probably took 20-30 hours of work. Each door needed to be painted front and back, and there were many layers with many paint colors, lots of shading, and outlining it all. In the biggest compliment that I could receive, I had several people tell me they thought the doors were actually made of glass.

After the elevator doors were done I had several more projects to tackle. Painting the rotating bookcase to look like cherry, painting a mirror to look like a window, repairing a part of the mantelpiece that had broken off long, long ago. The walls needed to be painted blue, decor needed to be attached to the tops of the walls, curtains needed to be hung. The floor needed to be painted, the second floor covering needed to be stapled down, the grandfather clock needed to be repainted to look like it was metal.

By my side, every step of the way, were two women I considered my crafting elders. I have never met two more capable, knowledgeable women who were so welcoming to me being a part of their team. I cannot emphasize enough how much I learned from them, and how freely they shared their knowledge and time with me. Though I didn't know it at the time, they would be there with advice and set pieces when I later designed the set for Frankenstein.

While working I would find myself captivated by the rehearsals. I saw the show dozens of times while I was painting and working, but now I wish I was able to stretch out those memories and relive them again. 

After the show closed, the set was taken down, packed up, and shipped to a high school theatre who bought it. I cried. Part of me wished I had been able to keep the elevator doors, but now I know that it was much better for them to go somewhere else. Sure, they'll be reused and very likely have been repainted by now. But at least someone else got to see them and use them. I put art out into the world, and I don't have control of where it goes from there. Such is life.