September 3–10, 1998

cover story|fringe festival

Masque and Bobbins

Two Philly women put a Fringe spin on classic costume design.

by Margit Detweiler

		Masquers: Wall (left) and Goettner photo: Sandor Welsh

Four masks, three crowns, six boobs, two wigs, a set of horns, platform shoes and a tail."

Sitting in her Old City apartment, Jennifer Goettner is rattling off her to-do list for the Big Mess Theater's Fringe production of The Ixiondae.

"Oh shit, I forgot about the tail!" says costumer Megan Wall, with a laugh.

Wall, 26, and Goettner, 27, are pinning and hemming, sewing and shaping and smoking lots of cigarettes—they've got only a few weeks left to craft costumes, hats, wigs and masks for eight characters. Written by Greg Giovanni, The Ixiondae is a "classic" masque—an allegorical drama popularized in the 16th and 17th centuries wherein all the actors wear masks. But knowing Giovanni's Big Mess—a theater company that likes things done large and sloppy—it's unlikely this will be exactly "classic." Just looking at some of Goettner and Wall's work gives that away. There's the rasta-like wig of sprouting blue coils. Or the skeletal form for a giant set of horns, resting atop a chair.

"Those are for Bacchus," she says. "We're doing everything big. We have one character that's 7 feet tall."

This is the women's fourth collaboration. They've recently given their partnership a name—the Anne Frances Costume Design Company (Anne is Goettner's middle name; Frances is Wall's confirmation name).

The two met while working at Sabra on Pine Street: Goettner as a prep cook; Wall a waitress. Both part-time costume designers, they realized they had a lot in common. So Wall asked Goettner to work with her on Pig Iron Theatre's Joan of Arc.

"So much in theater costuming is crap," says Goettner. "Crappy craftsmanship. We both take pride in our work."

"She's far more the perfectionist than I am," adds Wall, perhaps referring to her partner getting upset over a smudge on her mask. "I'm a little more carefree."

Wall, a Temple theater grad who decided she was too timid for the stage and much preferred being "behind the scenes," likes working for risk-taking companies like Pig Iron and Big Mess. The Fringe-ier stuff is what she digs.

"I'm inspired by everything from the Planet of the Apes to bike couriers," says Wall. "I'm obsessed with bike couriers. Their outfits are so utilitarian, but also so fucking colorful. You can't really apply such wide reference points to a production of Godspell."

Goettner focused in fibers while a student at University of the Arts, but found her calling in masks and millinery. Earlier this year she hosted a party at Shampoo called "Wiglicious"—a fashion show/art exhibit featuring sci-fi-like, alternative wigs (no hair please) made of plastics and recycled junk. Some of her favorite materials are foam rubber, trash-picked materials and paper bags.

"I actually had to go and buy some cardboard for this production!" she laughs.

Creating something from nothing is a Fringe tradition, or a Fringe necessity, since few productions have any kind of budget. But that's the challenge, says Goettner.

"It's easier to be more experimental when you work small."

In another Fringe tradition, the designers will parade their gowns and crowns around Philadelphia a week before their performance.

"We're going to run around the city streets. I think we're entitled to do that after all of this," says Wall.

Goettner pipes in, "Yeah, and free drinks for the masked ones!"