There comes a time when you look at the plethora of reality-tv renovation shows and say enough! I mean, I get it: I know people want to make their homes grander, sleeker, bigger or more modern. And I understand how a crappy environment can drag on the psyche. But honestly, isn’t there a certain charm in 1970s orange vinyl benchtops? Why does every surface have to be immaculate? Shouldn’t a house have character? Visually, there’s not a lot of difference between minimalism and repossession: they both look like your belongings have been forcibly removed.
I mention this because I recently worked with a lovely team of people on the sets for Maitland Repertory Theatre’s production of Gaslight, the classic play directed by Steven Ryan. It was a treat. The director wanted to make the set look like an old photograph come to life, so we kept the costumes and the props within the sepia range, with the only real flash of colour the lead actress’ gorgeous red hair (Leilani Smith). The lighting guys used bulbs that emitted a warm, golden glow. In the end it looked beautiful.
Steve specifically asked us to include a piece of wallpaper curling off a wall, so we papered the flats and then roughly stripped them. The red wallpaper pattern was created with a stencil and spraypaint, then scratched and distressed. Large brown waterstains poured down the walls and black patches of mildew lurched in every crevice (we had a group of volunteers, dubbed ‘the mildew crew’, applying black paint with sponges). The younger members of the crew were encouraged to give in to their antisocial impulses, and scratch any piece of furniture with the sharp end of a screwdriver.
It was fun.
Helen Hopcroft: an artist's life 