so who cares so what

"Do designers get private housing?" I ask during my interview.

"Oh yes, of course, private housing."

"Where is the studio space and what resources are there?"

"The studio space is in a ski condo.  The theater company only operates during the summer, so it is not set up when you arrive.  You may set it up as you see fit."

"How many sewing machines do you own?  Irons?  Serger?  Steamers?  Tables?  Stools?  Sewing supplies?  Shelving?"

NO REPLY

"What is your stock like?  May I stop by a couple weeks in advance to have a feel for it on my way to visit home?"

"Don't bother coming early.  There will be nothing here for you to see."

Apparently in Summer Stockish,

Private Housing = Sharing and Kitchen, Bathroom, Family Area, and hallways with my three immediate co-workers and six other company members.

Studio space in a ski condo = choosing between an 8x10' room in the beating hot sun with 100+ costumes and three coworkers, asking performers to try on costumes in the bathroom with no mirror, and being in virtually the same room as the performers all day, so that I can't listen to Patty Smith, let alone hear myself speak.  Oh, and the space is essentially an unfinished cement storage area that is literally crumbling around me.  Sweeping doesn't help.

NO REPLY = They don't know what the hell they have.  "Fifty costumes," I hear one day.  And the next day I am asked to load and unload fifty bins of clothing from someone's storage tent to the unfinished cement rehearsal space.

Don't bother coming early as there will be nothing here for you to see = We won't even let you see your space or your costumes until almost a week after you are called to be here.  

~

We had a studio run with most costumes today.  It put me in a sad mood.  Usually, I feel I have control over my designs and the quality of execution because I have time to execute them and my own skills to rely on.  With two weeks to put up a show while having to keep the other show running, it is nearly impossible to keep these controls.  I sat through the run disappointed.  I have thought about this show for months, shopped it, designed and redesigned.  But without a number of really skilled artisans to help, it doesn't matter how well-thought or well 

designed a piece might be.  I asked Props Master who is always watching, "Do you think it looks terrible?"

"What are you talking about?  It looks seedy.  It's a seedy show.  It's not supposed to look like The Rockets.  They're supposed to look destitute."  And she's right.  A fault of mine is that I think all of my shows should look Polished.  And sometimes it actually inflicts on the outcome.  If I could just get more inside the show, if I could just go deeper and think about how I would dress if I were a hooker or a gay, male hooker in Berlin in 1929, then maybe it would be a better show.  I have to stop thinking about my sketches, and my process, and my wardrobe tracks and think be the Character, be every character, and then when I go home, I can be my anal, aesthetically-obsessed, everyday self.