Globe Robes

Globe Robes

Interviewing a costume designer for the Pop Up Globe

Bob points across the room to a massive purple and blue striped farthingale. “So that’s worn with a bum roll underneath,” (another point, this time towards a puffy curved garment relaxing on a rack,) “And you start off with a corset.” Each statement is punctuated by Bob suddenly disappearing between racks of costumes, pointing out each and every undergarment.
“In fact, under the corset goes a smock, then your corset goes on top, then your bum roll, then your farthingale, then your petticoat, then you’d have a top skirt on top, then your doublet -- ” Bob breaks off at this point, wondering if there are such things as female doublets, and if so what are they actually called?
“ -- Then you have your gown on top, and this is super heavy, try this on…”  Bob lifts a velvety black gown (which is usually worn by Maria in Twelfth Night...the play where all female characters are played by men,) off a coat hanger, and I cautiously slip into it, trying hard not to imagine the other, older actor that wears it as well. I make the utterly embarrassing mistake of putting my arms into sleeves that are not meant to be worn, and although I am just wearing the farthingale and gown, the weight of it is incredible. No wonder the actors lost weight in the process of performing, “Which from a designing point of view is really annoying,” laughs Bob, “‘Cause everyone keeps getting thinner and thinner and the clothes are like, falling off them.”

Auckland’s Pop Up Globe does not exist anymore -- it was finally taken down a couple of  months ago, leaving nothing but memories and rain-soaked programmes behind. When the Pop up Globe was halfway through its extended season, I got the opportunity to interview Babara (Bob,) Capocci, the costume designer for the Globe’s performance of Twelfth Night. Bob has worked in New Zealand and England, for The Costume Studio, theatre and TV -- notably the Royal Opera House and the Globe in London.

I had never encountered Shakespeare’s work until the beginning of this year, but as soon as I read the prologue of Romeo and Juliet, I realised my great passion for anything to do with Shakespeare (a rather frustrating thing for a 14 year old). I was very nervous as Bob ushered me past the ‘Actors Only’ signs, and felt rather awkward as I posed for a photo in the Green Room (an area where actors hang out before going onstage, bedecked with couches and cushions and an antique lamp). I had prepared 8 questions, all of which Bob answered in great detail, and with lovely warmth and friendliness. Her favourite play by Shakespeare is Twelfth Night, so it's quite a nice coincidence that she got to design and re-create the costumes for the play. I went to see Twelfth Night as a groundling a little over a month ago, standing in an over-large camouflage rain jacket as it rained the entire time. However, the rain didn't dampen the situation at all, and I loved how the actors transformed into believable, hilarious characters. The most rewarding part of being part of the Pop up Globe, in Bob’s opinion, is the audience’s reaction.
“Those moments, those totally make it worth it when the audience gets it.” There must be a great sense of pride in watching this happen, as the costumes are a huge part of character portrayal, from Maria’s breast-shaped necklace to Malvolio’s cross-gartered stockings.

The play (therefore the costumes,) is set in the Jacobean period of 1616. This means a lot of ruffs, bows and undergarments (as I learnt when trying Maria’s outfit on). The costumes were either hired or made from scratch, and the making of a single costume - minus things like a hat or cloak - would take approximately 5 days, from start to finish. The most challenging part was sourcing the materials,
“In Auckland, there’s not a huge amount of resources in terms of all the little fastenings...even beautiful linen they produce in Amsterdam or somewhere that’s famous for it, it doesn't quite behave the same way it would back in those days.” Around question number 3, Bob pulls out the Costume Bible. This is a thick green folder, bulging with costume designs, trimmings of fabrics and samples, crazy Jacobean portraits for research… basically everything crammed into one holy folder. Bob flicks through numerous, meticulously drawn designs until she finds her favourite costume -- that of Count Orsino’s.
“So, I tell you what, I just love him so much. Often you draw up these designs and you’re like, ‘The chances of me finding fabric like this are pretty slim,’ You don’t know if the actor is gonna look like this,” Bob gestures to show various body proportions, “Or if he’s gonna look like that, or that, but he just looks so much like the design. He just wears it well, he’s good. They look like clothes, those guys. That’s what I think as a costume designer, you’ve won when they look like clothes not costumes.”

Bob then took me to a small-ish room, with racks and racks of heavily ornamented and elaborate costumes at one end, and tables where actors would sit and get their makeup done at the other. I learn that the tops and trousers of Count Orsino’s costume are pointed together (by little things called points of course,) like a massive onesie. Bob shows me costume after costume, one with hundreds of golden buttons down the front, one where every single bow (right down to what appears to be the thousandth,) has been sewn on by hand, identical costumes for Olivia/Cesario and Sebastian (the Twelfth Night twins). A tiny little piece of jewellery dangling off the end of a collar has been sourced at a jewellery store and then painted with nail varnish (as the colour wasn’t quite right); small things that you might not even notice have so much effort and creativity put into them.
“Clothes at this period, there’s so much going on inside…there’s a lot of padding, and all sorts. Even when nobody’s in it they’ve just got a shape to themselves. The clothes wear the people rather than the other way round, I mean, these days everything’s a lot less structured until you put it on a body and these are totally, totally the opposite.”

Finally, Bob takes me backstage. The blue curtains that usually block the audience from seeing inside are tied up for airing, and sunlight streams in from the open roof of the Pop Up Globe.

“So this is packed with quick change stuff all along, and there’s actors on chairs…it’s really dark and there’s little spots of light and there’s just madness going on. You can see emergency repairs going on, it gets quite crowded, if there’s a cast of 15 of them waiting to go on backstage.” I see a hulking shelf covered almost completely by a white sheet, revealing only a single mask from the Capulet’s feast scene in Romeo and Juliet. The urge to touch it is unbearable, but I settle for a photo instead. The tour over, Bob leads me out into the carpark and back into the real world.