From The Director's Notebook v.5: Branding

Developing The Brand

Building Imagery for a Production


2. 21. 2012, 4:00PM


One of my favorite pre-production projects  is creating the identity of the play I am currently working on. Some may see this a rather daunting task, for myself however, it is how I begin to give the production direction. Recently, I completed the imagery that will be used for The Theatre Project's upcoming reading of Barbicide. I thought it may be interesting to share the process that lead to the final key art that we shall be using.


When I begin to create a icon or poster for theatre, I consider all aspects. The play's setting, language, and scenic design highly influence my initial design concepts. The play may not be completely designed, and very rarely have I balanced key art when staging, but by creating this identity I can rein in all aspects.


Barbicide is a highly stylized play that hybrids beat poetry, monologues and dialogue. Linguistically it is very unique, which is why we decided to present the piece as a developmental reading prior to staging it. Additionally the play is set at the height of the 1964 World's Fair in Flushing Meadows, Queens. We see a lot of elements that will translate into the production from the time period. Even more important is the main character, Toddesco. Having been framed and imprisoned in the 1940's, and later being released in the 60s, Toddesco encounters a variety of changes to culture. All these details become a part of the knowledge incorporated into the design.

The Vanishing American Barber Shop
by Ronald S. Barlow

It was crucial that the vintage quality stay at the forefront of the piece. Both Sean Pomposello, playwright of Barbicide, and I wanted to include that dated charm. The homey quality of a barber shop has been very necessary to understand in order to develop the ideal look. I have been using a wonderful study on the tonsorial arts that really hits the nail on the head for every department. "The Vanishing American Barber Shop" has ended up becoming the dramaturg to our production. Included is the history of the tonsorial arts, old school photography, detailed product catalogs and illustrations, as well as scenic, prop and wardrobe cues. I even investigated various throwback salons in Manhattan to develop an idea of the environment we would be set in. My favorite, without any doubts, was Moustache Tonsorial. It also was important to consider that Toddesco's environment would lean more towards his past as opposed to his present, both stylistically and emotionally.


Initially, I began with a rough place-holder graphic, with the understanding that the graphic was sure to be improved upon over the course of the pre-production phase. Heavily leaning towards the more noir aspects of the production, the first try ended up being this:

First Try

I really liked the imagery. A straight razor sums the piece up perfectly while the typography calls toward a film noir style. Combining serif and sans-serif fonts was an idea that I ended up liking as well, especially for the main reason that it was done in a subtle and unobtrusive manner. The adjacent graphic did not manage to convey the play as well as I had hoped for, which led me to go a bit more vintage.


By approaching the art through a vintage approach, I opened the production up to more options scenically. Not many will use this approach, but I favor cohesion through all elements.

Second Try

The dog eared paper look in the second try really pleased me aesthetically. Additionally, the font choice felt very appropriate considering the time period that Barbicide spans.


After making these two posters, I noticed something that truly excited me. The similarity between the letter A and the straight razor was too good to pass up. Using the razor in a typographical manner had the potential to allow the show to speak for itself in a new way.


And so, I decided to do a little bit of playing around which led me me to the following piece of art work:






By combing the font from the second try with the black of the first, I was able to connect both Noir and vintage into one. And the A/razor concept ended up working out well.

Third Try

I could not help feeling that the black was too dark. Yet I did not want to lose the noir concept. I considered how that concept would be maintained through the typography as well as through staging. I then allowed myself to take what I liked out of all the concepts and fuse them together. This left me with our final product:

Fourth & Final Try

Keep in mind, that this imagery is simply for our upcoming reading. For our run this summer, we will go through this process all over again.

I must say, that the fourth try completely captures the production accurately, especially to present a reading. When it comes time for our full staging, we will have a new poster designed. Simplicity works well for a reading, but a full production's key art needs a bit more pop.


-Christian Amato

The Playwright's Pad: The Origin of Barbicide

I’ve been told that I’m dark. Frequently, actually. Most recently by my ten-year old daughter, over breakfast. And, in a great many of my plays, that darkness pervades, but it is often accompanied by some degree of violence. Stop, don’t ask why. I myself don’t know. It just does. In fact, I’ve even been passed over at certain festivals (the names of which I won’t disclose) for being too violent. So, you can imagine my excitement when I awoke with a start on my daily train ride with an idea for a way to adapt into a play, of all things, a well known, and beloved, musical. You know, orchestra, dancing, kicking, singing—in short, everything I despise about theatre. Well, not everything, but most everything. 

How great would it be to expose my work to a whole new set of theatergoers who might normally look the other way when a play of mine was being staged. Immediately, fearing the loss of cell signal that an approaching tunnel would bring, I texted Christian Amato, artistic director of The Theatre Project and detailed my idea. Christian was at the time knee deep in not only a reading series of a collection of my work (titled Universal Monsters), but a full blown, balls-to-the-walls staging of my play Bitch.

Over the months of development, Christian had become somewhat of the ideal collaborator for a playwright. He’d always listen to even half-baked ideas, listen some more, provide perspective, and then step back. Never one to stifle a good concept, however unpopular, Christian knows just what to say to find a way to steer something to the stage—even if that something might be a little too dark for mass audience consumption (read: taking on a play about dog fighting). Later that day we discussed the piece I dreamt up on the train while an actor read a rather lengthy monologue I had originally staged at Manhattan Repertory Theatre the previous Spring. After the piece was read, Christian leaned in and asked if I’d ever considered writing a full-length monologue. 

Now, the monologue is something that, for good or for bad, has made frequent appearances in my plays over the years, but it is normally the kind of conceit that actors shrink from and directors scratch their heads over.  It is often difficult to perform (particularly with my language) and even more daunting a task to stage in any compelling way. So, needless to say, the question took me aback. I had, however, always yearned to write a full-length monologue, but with multiple voices—a stereologue, if you will. The one I’d been toying with incorporated direct audience address, but also included such diverse elements as beat poetry, terse, hard boiled language and tenses that shifted from past to present. What’s more, I wanted all attention to be directed to the language itself—in fact, in order to focus on the words, in this piece, I’d ask that a small handful of actors impersonate scores of other characters. For me, this would be an experiment in pure storytelling. 

So, upon Christian’s question concerning the monologue, a light bulb went off. Why not apply this unique form of storytelling to this musical adaptation that sparked my imagination on the train. This was how Barbicide was born—my meditation on coincidence and fate. Or, if you’d prefer, my very loose, potty-mouthed, deconstructed adaptation, or parody, of the musical Sweeney Todd.  

At last, a lighter, more accessible play for the masses… a story about, among many of things, a serial killer barber and cannibalism.

-Sean

From The Director's Notebook v.4

Friday, February 10

11:30 AM

My apologies for being unable to post in the last few months, but my production schedule has been pretty hectic. Having been totally invested in B*tch, I did not have the opportunity to post as frequently as I would have liked. I imagine that those are the benefits to Twitter and Facebook. You don't have to write a lot—an update will suffice.

Currently I am working on a very cool production of Alice In Wonderland. The production is Off-Broadway at The Historic Players Theatre, and features a newly interpreted script and score by writing team Sgouros and Bell. This is the world premiere production of the musical, which features an all percussion score!

I have been fortunate to be collaborating with a large amount of artists lately, an experience which is crucial for all young directors. On Alice, I have been working with the composer and the librettist whom are both extremely keen on input and involvement. The same goes with my other collaborator, Sean Pomposello. Sean wrote B*tch and together we have been developing a new play entitled Barbicide, a noirish reflection of the Sweeny Todd myth set in 1960s Queens. To learn more about Barbicide, watch the talk balk between Sean and I.

The key to a collaboration is the level of involvement. A director should never make a bottom line. When collaborating, it is our job to guide the piece into the best possible production.

In theatre, there are a lot of opportunities to collaborate. You collaborate with actors, technicians and designers amongst others. Recently I have been able to collaborate with businesses, corporations and product lines as well.

As a director, the relationships built are equally as important in conjunction to the plays you develop. While it sounds like something you may hear in theatre school, it is a highly valuable piece of advice. It may be difficult at the outset to find collaborators you see eye to eye with, but then again not all relationships need to be on the same page in order to thrive. I am lucky to be involved with artists who share similar values as my own.

Creatives are out there, in all fields, seeking people to partner with and develop great work. Theatre allows for a fusion of many cultures and relationships. For me, I enjoy developing work with a group of people in highly varying worlds. The end result is magnificent for an audience.

Keep an eye out for future (and more frequent) posts and be sure to check out our new blog series, The Playwrights Pad.

-Christian

The director's notebook is a blog Christian Amato started through theatre projected in order to allow people to see how a younger director approaches his work.

Video Talk Back: Barbicide

Check out this video interview on our upcoming project, Barbicide.


Playwright Sean Pomposello answers questions with Artistic Director Christian Amato on our newest play!