

A few weeks after our finals, the production lost its head of props, and had to replace her on short notice, creating a void in the circle of information that David and I had cultivated. Our old head of props was also an experienced builder, who had begun the process of sourcing materials to make the ending goat head for the production. I ended up having to guide the process more than I expected due to this switch.. I gave my drawings in (Above) and went over them. However, what I didn’t realize was that the mix of information I had given, between the preceding drawings and some reference material made for an unclear direction for our new builder. I had inadvertently given too much information, instead of one concise direction. This caused the product to also become confused and strangely flat. The key moment to gaining understanding on why I needed the head to have more shape was re-drawing the side profile and adding in colour for reference to define the shape of the goat. After amending my drawings, I took them to our Head of Props, and had a conversation about what was going on. I explained that I probably should have said something sooner, as the goat was in the process of being felted at that time. However, I had been nervous about stepping on toes so-to-speak. Luckily, the Head of Props and I were able to work together to create a new face shape (Right). We decided to rely solely on the drawn images and the mask itself, instead of using a pleathora of photographs. I feel that this experience helped me to see the importance of my gut instinct in regards to the creative vision, and that if something isn’t looking right in the early stages, that I shouldn’t feel pressured to stay quiet in fear of upsetting someone’s workflow. Had I been more upfront about the process, perhaps this issue could have been solved early. However, I do also believe that I needed to let the goat take some semblance of shape before I could judge if it was fitting the vision properly. Overall, this situation was a key example of the importance of daily check-ins and team conversation, as well as a stellar learning moment for me.
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The Goat
Realism Versus Reality.
In deciding to have a practical gun, David and I made the irreversible commitment to practicality with antigone lives*. This choice would shape the show by providing a guide for the level of surprise that we were trying to achieve, and be the origin point for our moments of curated reality. The gun was something that David was set on right from our initial meetings, as on an empty stage, we would need those elements of reality/practicality to draw the audience into the action of the piece, as well as keep them unprepared for what comes next. The way that we laid out the entire production was based on this idea of momentum and pushing onwards, only allowing for brief moments for relief before following with action or effects.
Although we were committed irreversibly to the practicality of the gun, in reflection I realize that the Gun also guided our expectations with the Goat. The goat is Antigone, the actress hangs the goat. This was the decision that David and I came to regarding the action in the final scene of antigone lives*; be that as it may, the goat also acted as the most overt element of ritual within props, paired with the altar out in the house. David and I wanted this goat to feel like a nauseating, almost repulsive ritual offering to the gods. This goat is Antigone’s critical act of defiance against Creon, the marker of a sudden halting of the show to call it out as the ritual that Fournier intended for the audience to be participating in all along (Fournier, 2). My thought was that the goat would match this sudden shift in tone with its carnal appearance. I considered looking at taxidermy, but the fact that Antigone was going to wear the goat-head initially complicated that idea beyond the scope of the production as a decent goat head mount would have been well over the 200.00 alloted. So the goat would have to be built. Regardless, the intent was clear: realistic, ritual, visceral. Within the context of the gun, this goat was to be a continuation of the practical and slightly frightening notion of reality within the show. If the sandwich was real earlier and the gun stemmed from that moment, could the goat also be real? That was the question I wanted the audience to ask themselves when it was revealed behind the curtain. I wanted the goat to feel so real that people would question if they were about to watch an ancient grecian sacrifice at that moment.
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