Kate Sutton-Johnson  Scenic Designer
The staging dynamics for Becky’s New Car drove the set concept and early environmental decisions more than any other style choice. The pace at which Becky’s story unfolds and the undeniable sense that the various locations in her life overlap and occupy a shared space were departure points from which the set was conceived. The repeating doorways provide quick surprise entrances, while their overall effect is one of theatricality and whimsy. The set attempts to capture a contemporary, somewhat pedestrian look, while at the same time providing a highly presentational and theatrical space: 1950s rambler meets Shakespeare’s Globe.

Nan Zabriskie  Costume Designer
Steven Dietz has given us a play full of truths, full of personal journeys, full of humor, and full of depth. As we looked at the rhythm and structure of the play, we knew we needed seamless, simple, and fast transitions to capture both the melodrama and the poignantly serious aspects of Becky’s journey. Clothes would need to be changed, but not too many, and not too often. Simplicity became our watchword. “What do we really need to tell help our characters tell their stories?” became our guiding question. Establishing location (a city like Seattle), establishing time period (the present), establishing season (summer), and most importantly establishing personalities and relationships. One of my favorite parts of the design process is when the director and designers dig deeply into the script to find our interpretations. Ideas fly, images are presented, and together we create a world. We have to satisfy the logistics of the play while finding (in my case) the item of clothing that most effectively illuminates the character. Where does she shop? How does she feel about her body? What colors does she like? What colors establish the right balance with the other characters in the scene? What class of society is she in? Do we want her to look good in this scene? Becky Foster has many transitions from wife to worker to mother to 40-year-old woman who may want a new life. While it is not our intention to realistically depict each transition, some transitions (such as her on-stage change to a party dress) must be quite specific and realistic, while others may not even involve a clothing change. As Becky’s life gets more complicated, she cannot quite keep up with the pace of the play. Realism is supplanted by theatricality, as clothes do not get changed in accordance with time and locale. Becky’s story is one of seven in the play, and each has provided James Still and me with lots of fun and sometimes incredibly geeky discussion. The final story will be told by the actors who take our ideas add their own, bringing to life the full characters you will live with for an evening.

Michael Lincoln Lighting Designer
Built into the script of Becky’s New Car is the necessity to shift instantly from one location to the next. As the play picks up momentum in the second act, the collision of those separate realities becomes part of the humor of the play. The lighting design is the key to providing those instant shifts, so establishing them clearly and distinctly in the first act is critical. To this end, the director, the set designer, and I have collaborated to build light sources into the set, which motivate those changes. One simple example is a desk lamp that has two different bulbs on separate circuits, so that when Becky is home it’s warm and inviting but when the scene pops into her cubicle at work, the lamplight is a fluorescent source that is harsher. There are many other examples; see if you notice them!

In Shakespeare’s day, playgoing was enormously popular for all classes of people, and new theatres were springing up across London. None was more popular than Shakespeare’s home theatre. The Globe functioned in many ways as a metaphor for contemporary concepts of society, civilization, and the universe at large. The name of the theatre itself—the Globe—suggested that the events portrayed on its stage were symbolic of events happening in the world. The building’s shape, an octagon, suggested the round shape of the world itself.

The Globe was located on the south bank of the River Thames in a disreputable part of London. Built in 1599, the wood-and-plaster building held more than 2,000 spectators, and popular plays often sold out. The public entered through a narrow door located at the base of a small tower. Inside, the building was open to the sky, and performances took place in the afternoon sun.

The audience surrounding the stage was arranged to reflect society at large. Standing on the ground around the stage itself, in the area known as the Pit, were the penny groundlings—those of the lowest classes who paid the least for admittance. Three surrounding levels of balconies rose above them, with correspondingly rising admission prices; Elizabethan society, from top to bottom, was clearly divided and arranged for all to see. Thus an audience member at the Globe could not help but feel his or her place in the world order.

The stage itself jutted out into the center of the yard. On each side of the stage, two tall columns, known as the Pillars of Hercules, were carved and brightly painted. Underneath the roof, the “heavens” were painted sky blue and decorated with starry signs of the Zodiac. Tucked under that ceiling was a small balcony where the theatre’s musicians played “the Music of the Spheres.” At the rear of the stage, on each side, were doors to the backstage area, known as the tiring house, through which the players made their entrances and exits. Between the doors, a brightly painted curtain hid a small alcove, the “discovery” area; above was an often-used balcony.

There was very little scenery. Most of the company’s expense went into costumes. Audiences loved noise and spectacle, so the plays had lots of action and violence. Thunder was created by rolling a cannonball across the wooden floor above the stage. Ghosts and other spirits could be raised from below the stage through trap doors or lowered from the “heavens” by a small crane.

At the center of the Globe was the actor. Men played all the parts, since it was against the law for women to act on the stage; young teenage boys played the female roles. The groundlings crowded close to the stage, and the actor-audience relationship was an intimate one.

Shakespeare wrote for an audience who was largely illiterate; most people obtained their news, religious instruction, and entertainment by ear. Without modern stage and lighting effects, location, time, and atmosphere, as well as emotions and ideas, had to be communicated through dialogue.

Shakespeare’s plays were very popular, appealing to a wide spectrum of society. Yet his use of language clearly shows that he expected his audience to understand and appreciate puns, paradoxes, and nuances of meaning, complex metaphors, and innovative vocabulary. It may be a bit more challenging in our highly visual age to tune in our ears, but theatregoers of all ages still thrill to Shakespeare’s eloquent exploration of the human condition.

Learn more:

Shakespeare’s Globe

Suggested Reading:

William Shakespeare & the Globe
written & illustrated by Aliki

Eyewitness: Shakespeare
by Peter Chrisp

The Usborne World of Shakespeare
by Anna Claybourne and Rebecca Treays

Reduced Shakespeare:
the complete Guide for the Attention-Impaired
by Reed Martin and Austin Tichenor