
This is a picture of Steven Leigh Morris hosting the 2006 L.A. Weekly Theater Awards in a suit I made entirely of L.A. Weeklies.
Tue 23 May 2006

This is a picture of Steven Leigh Morris hosting the 2006 L.A. Weekly Theater Awards in a suit I made entirely of L.A. Weeklies.
Tue 23 May 2006

Here’s the L.A. Weekly article, with a picture of me playing the hoochie mama:
Costume designer Ann Closs-Farley is in the basement of the Evidence Room theater holding up a little orphan “Annie dress,” as she calls it, made from bright-red plastic tablecloths reinforced on either side by clear, glossy packing tape. With a sweet Peter Pan collar made from coffee filters, the 3-foot-tall dress is so stiff it nearly stands up by itself.
“Packing tape is a major part of these costumes. We have a thousand-dollar budget from the theater, and half of that goes to tape,” says Closs-Farley, who this year will oversee the design and construction of all 89 costumes for Ken Roht’s annual musical Christmas pageant, “Route 99”: Orange Star Dinner Show.
The way the light bounces off the tape makes each actor look like a present, Closs-Farley says. [Each costume] has to be sealed on both sides,” she explains. “The first year we discovered if you don’t [tape] the back, the cast’s sweat dissolves the tablecloths.”
Closs-Farley, an award-winning 10-year veteran of the Evidence Room — and a 12-year veteran of the Actors’ Gang — has been designing the costumes for Roht’s 99-cent-store extravaganza for the past four years.
What originally began as an ambitious one-woman affair has now ballooned into a 17-person costume team, which this year includes: Mark Crowell, former personal hairdresser to tap legend Ann Miller; Audry Fisher of the Mark Taper Forum’s design team; Tina Zimmerman, a tow-truck company owner from Sunland who, after seeing last year’s show, begged to help out; and 7-year-old Isabelle Adams, daughter of Evidence Room owners Jason Adams and Alicia Hoge.
“It’s really becoming a community,” Closs-Farley says of her ever-expanding crew. “Once people start with ‘the 99’ they get addicted,” she winks, nodding toward Crowell, who is brushing out a black wig in the corner.
Made entirely from items purchased from, or donated by, the 99 Cents Only Stores chain, Closs-Farley’s Seussian costumes have such a witty sophistication, they seem like a new-millennial twist on Marcel Duchamp’s notions of ready-made or found art.
“The 99-cent store gave us a donation and that was worth quite a bit. I’m not quite sure how much — they gave us boxes and boxes of stuff. I have to say we have more money this year than ever before, and less people in the cast. I give each designer all their basics, like tablecloths and tape, and different elements that I think the character should have, and then I give them 25 bucks to play with.
“A package of combs and some tinsel goes a long way,” adds Closs-Farley, illustrating her point while pulling out a top hat from last year’s production. The costume prop is made from pink, white, and black plastic combs sealed in clear packing tape.