Chapter 55 – Naked Costumes
The next morning Gwen divided the team into two parts. She sent Selgey, Bart, the woman, and the Ps into the back office and told them to put together a compensation package to offer the Mariinsky dancers. And they were to figure out how and when to approach the dancers with the package. She told them not to come out of the office until they were done, not even to pee. She sat down at the tables on the stage with Gale, Helstof, Townshend, and Roger to solve one of her pet peeves, how to simulate nakedness on stage without using those pathetic flesh-colored body suits.
Roger said, “You know, just because Matisse painted his picture of the nymphs naked in the woods, dancing around, and Stravinsky said in his notes on the score that the ballet dancers should be naked, doesn’t mean we have to follow those leads, literally. We’re the producers, and we have room to change things as we need to.”
“Yeah,” said Gwen, “but if we figure out a way to do naked ballet without vulgarity, we will have contributed to the art form. We have to try.”
Gale, having been educated on the subject by Pater a week previously, with his arabesque demonstration, was into it. She said, “It’s the guys, right? It’s them that are the problem. Not the women. It’s them we gotta figure out.”
Helstof said, smiling, “Ain’t that always the way?”
The Whosey said, “Let’s get real. There’s no way to do this and meet both criteria: nakedness and the absence of vulgarity. Not in the cards. So we gotta amend one or both criteria. I don’t think we can do that with the vulgarity criterion. So it’s gotta be the other, we can’t do totally naked. So what’s the next best thing?” He looked at Gale and Helstof, them having a different perspective on the subject than him and Roger.
Helstof said, “Fig leaf.”
Gale said, “That’s too much. Not naked enough.” Nothing was naked enough for Gale.
“A fig leaf is too much? How can you get less than that and not get totally naked?”
While Gale was pondering, Roger said, “I agree. Now, how do you design a fig leaf costume that is both aesthetically pleasing and fully functional?”
Gale came close to asking another dumb question, but caught herself.
Townshend, harking back to the days he played soccer in East London, said, “You gotta start with a jockstrap, then make it better.”
“What’s a jockstrap?” asked Helstof, whose English didn’t extend to esoteric subjects like that.
“It’s like an old style thong for sports guys.”
“Oh. Jockstrap? I like the word thong better.”
Gale said, “We can do this. Start with a thong, and add the artistry. But less is more, right?”
Roger said, “Don’t forget, it’s gotta work. Gotta function.”
She said, “We need a model.”
Roger looked at Townshend, who looked back. Both shook their heads. Roger said, “Bart. Use Bart. He’s the bod boy.”
Gale, having figured that was the way the decision would go, was pleased, as was Helstof. They weren’t fools. Well, Helstof wasn’t. They shooed the two guys away from the tables and got down to drawing fig leaves, and discussing how to do the fittings on Bart. Gale said, “You think Selgey’s gonna be there when we do the fittings?”
Helstof said, “I think we gotta try a lot of different designs. See which one looks best on him.”
Gale concurred.
The Lost Ballet Page 55