“Details” from Erik LaDue

The magic is in the details.

So, of course, that’s where the work is.

I’ve spent two days applying molding to the carriages of  ½” scale stairs. That doesn’t sound like much, but it makes a huge impact when the whole project comes together. With tweezers in one hand and an X-acto blade in the other, I’m playing Cosmetic Surgeon for Shakespeare’s Richard III.

It’s funny sometimes when I need to use the Scene Shop facilities in order to fabricate materials for these mini-masterpieces. I’ve become familiar with using the table saw to rip down life-sized lumber into scale posts for my tiny handrails.

There are moments of spectacle present in the craft of model building. In the design studio, once someone has finished a project for one of the models, there is a brief moment of “Check out what I made in miniature….”A phone, a cashier, an umbrella, etc.

It’s all about maximizing communication to everyone else in the production, and we’re taking every detail, every piece of the magic, seriously.

“Go Home” from Erik LaDue

“Erik, go home.”

I get that a lot. Every day, actually.

“It’s late. Go home.”

During my first week here with the Oregon Shakespeare Festival, I’ve been delighted by the ease of simply being: being a craftsperson and an artist. On my first day, I was given a desk and the model of the Elizabethan Stage with last season’s scenic model still glued down to it. Immediately, I set to the task of…gingerly…dismantling and preserving the old design while refurbishing the Elizabethan. I used a prop knife I found in the Design Studio, still stained in fake blood, to wedge the various model pieces off the ½” model box. It looked like a tedious murder scene.

As soon as my task was finished, I was whisked away into the next project: updating and expanding the min-Elizabethan stage’s dimensions, adding downstage step units, etc.

At this point, they have me working on the model for the next design for the stage: Richard III. Drafting plates are floating to my desk all the time; an update, more details, flushed out molding details, etc.

At the end of last week I had stated that being at OSF was like a vacation. “Oh, well, we’ll have to get you working more,” some in the company have said.

My terminology is misunderstood.

“Erik, go home”

In an environment where information and resources are streamlined, a practitioner of the theater can work with a satisfaction. This satisfaction derives from the knowledge that putting in their 100% will have a yield of at least 100%. There are practically no restrictions on the artists that work here. OSF pushes for artistic efficacy. There is no wasted time or resources, just the direct labor of those that work here. Being an independent artist for the last two years, I am astounded at this opportunity to strive without material limits. My work is directly proportional to my output. This makes OSF an island resort for craftsmanship and art, inspiring only a desire to push one’s own output.

“Erik, stop working and GO HOME”

“But, Rick, I’m enjoying myself to much”