Opposite to the back or private entrance to this building, stood a lofty wooden pile, erected for, and occupied by, the painters, machinists, and carpenters of the establishment; to the north of which (where now the above-mentioned temperance hotel is planted), were several low, wooden dram-shops, and other receptacles of intemperance and infamy; and to the south, several taller wooden houses, occupied by the poor and industrious; one of which tenements, immediately adjoining the scene-house, was the residence of John Kent, the property-man of the theatre, and his wife. We have seen in the last chapter, that among other properties, he was to furnish a tarrapin-supper for the young manager and his joyous companions. As some of my readers may not be sufficiently initiated in the mysteries of stage-management, I will tell them what a property-man is.

Good to his word, Dunlap describes a property man’s responsibilities circa 1811.

Though, in such matters, I do consider my authority as indifferent good, yet I will first give higher. Peter Quince says, “I will draw a bill of properties, such as our play wants;” and Bottom, who appears to be the manager, gives us a list of beards, as “your straw-coloured beard, your orange-tawny beard, your purple-in-grain beard, or your French crown-coloured beard, your perfect yellow.”

That I may not mislead, let me note, that actors in the year 1811 found their own wigs and beards; but then property beards and wigs were supplied to the supernumeraries, the “reverend, grave and potent seignors” of Venice, the senatorial fathers of Rome, or parliamentary lords of England.

Quince performed the part of the prompter, whose duty it was, to give a bill of properties to the property-man; and these consisted of every imaginable thing. In the Midsummer Night’s Dream, for example, one property is an ass’s head; which, if not belonging to the manager, or one of the company, the property-man must find elsewhere. Arms and ammunition, loaded pistols for sham mischief, and decanters of liquor for real:—(for though the actors could dispense with the bullets, they required the alcohol,)—love letters and challenges—beds, bed-linen, and babies—in short, the property-man was bound to produce whatever was required by the incidents of the play, as set down in the “bill of properties” furnished by the prompter. Such was the office of John Kent, besides furnishing suppers occasionally for the manager, and doing other extra services, for which he was well remunerated, and experienced the favour of his employer.

He then describes the background of the property man, John Kent, and his wife:

Kent and his wife were old. In youth they had been slaves to the same master, under that system established and enforced on her colonies by that nation who at the same time boasted, justly, “that the chains of the slave fell from him on his touching her shores;” that he became a man as soon as he breathed the air of her glorious island; yet, with that inconsistency so often seen in nations as well as individuals, sent her floating dungeons with the heaviest chains, forged for the purpose, to manacle the African, and convey him to a hopeless slavery among her children in America; even refusing those children the privilege of rejecting the unhallowed and poisonous gift. But England has washed this stain from her hands; while the blot remains where she fixed it, and has produced a cancerous sore on the fairest political body that ever before existed.

Mr. and Mrs. Kent were not Africans by birth, but descendants from the people so long the prey of European and American avarice; and by some intermixture of the blood of their ancestors with that of their masters, their colour was that which is known among us as mulatto, or mulatre; still they were classed with what people of African descent (who abhor the word “negro”) call “people of colour.”

A few pages later, Dunlap provides a physical description of Kent himself:

Between the table and the door sat a man of sturdy frame, but time-worn; his age appeared to be sixty. He was darker than the woman, and his features more African. His crisped iron-grey hair thickly covered his head and shaded his temples. His forehead was prominent; with many deep wrinkles crossing it; while farrows as deep marked his cheek. His dress was that of a labourer. It was neat, but here and there patched with cloth that denoted the colour originally belonging to the whole garment. He held his spectacles in his left hand and his snuff box in his right. His eyes, full of respectful attention, were fixed on the figure nearest to the table and lamp; as were also, but with a more earnest gaze, those of the reclining invalid.

Dunlap then reveals how Kent became a property man through a dialogue with Emma Portland, the “heroine” of his memoirs:

“How came you to be brought so intimately in contact with theatres, and theatrical people, Mr. Kent?”

“I’ll tell you, miss. My master wished to give me a trade, and as I always had a notion of drawing, he put me apprentice to a house and sign-painter that lived in John-street, near the play-house: and it was by waiting upon my ‘bos‘ that I got my first knowledge of actors; for as there was no scene-painters then in the country, and he having some little skill, (little enough to be sure,) of that kind of work, he was employed for want of a better; and I ground the paints, and mixed them, as he taught me. So, by and by, as I could draw rather better than bos, I became a favourite with the actors.”

“That drawing over the fire-place, I understand, is one of yours.”

“Yes, miss; but I can’t see the end of a camels-hair pencil now.”

“How long is it since you practised scene-painting?”

“This was in the year seventeen hundred and seventy four, at which time Mr. Hallam went to England. Mr. Henry was the great man of the theatre then, and a fine man he was. When I left New-York, to go to Canada, there were four sisters in the old American Company, the oldest was Mrs. Henry; and when I came back, after the war, the youngest was Mrs. Henry, and the other two had been Mrs. Henrys in the meanwhile, and were still living. This was a long time ago. Things have mended.”

Later in the book, we learn some more of Kent’s early life through another dialogue with Emma:

“I was born, as I have told you, Miss Emmy, in this city, when it was a poor little place compared to what it is now; when the park, now level as a floor, and filled with trees, was called the fields ; no houses, but some mean wooden ones, around it; and neither tree nor green thing to be seen. The people were almost as much Dutch as English. My master took me with him to Canada, when the rebels, as they called them then, were mobbing the tories—for he was an Englishman and a loyalist.”

“He was a good master to you—was he not?”

“Why do you think so, Miss?”

“Because you had a good education for—for—”

“A slave, Miss. You did not like to speak the word. Yes, I was a slave. Yes, Miss, he was a good master; but he was a master.”

“He had you taught a trade, too.”

“That makes the slave a more valuable property. He can earn more wages for his master. Having a trade, he will bring a higher price if set up at auction, to be knocked down to the highest bidder, like a horse or a dog.”

It seems strange that a “memoir” would feature an omniscient narrator and a heroine; perhaps this tale is fictionalized to some extent. Still, the details of the theatre and the lives of its workers would have been based on the realities of the day. Whether John Kent was a real historical figure or not, the first prop masters of America would have had similar lives.

Related posts:

• Why the term “prop master”? Why do we use the term “property master”? In our...
• Review: The Prop Master Amy Mussman's book clearly defines the duties and expectations of...
• Natalie Kearns, Prop Master Natalie Kearns has a blog about her life as a...

Click for a larger size

The layout of the stars was officially standardized in 1912, while the colors were standardized in 1934. In the guide above, I put the most typical flag of the period first, with alternate patterns and special flags listed after. Starting in 1818, the new flags were introduced on July 4th of the year listed.

In 1942, the Federal Flag Code was passed to provide uniform guidelines for the display of flags. One frequent complaint from flagophiles about many movies is the incorrect positioning of a flag in the vertical position. According to the code, the blue part should be on the left.

vertical positioning of the US flag

For more about the code, check out this illustration of how to display the flag. This of course brings up the prop master’s dilemma; if it is a “common” mistake to display a hanging flag with the blue field on the right, then it is conceivable that the character in the play who hung the flag would have made the same mistake. In other words, dressing and decorating a set isn’t about doing what is correct, but rather what is truthful to the characters and world of the play. Just like a character may drink wine out of a coffee cup, so too may one wear a jacket made out of a flag. Here is a whole blog dedicated to finding incorrect displays of the American flag.

As an interesting side note, there is only place where an official flag is never brought to half-mast during a period of mourning. That place? The Moon.

Related posts:

• First use of “Property” in the theatrical sense According to the Oxford English Dictionary, the use of the...
• Telephone History Ron DeMarco, head of props at Emerson University, had these...
• Martha Stewart’s Prop Room This is from last year, but I just came across...

Take urethane rubber for instance. If you are into molding and casting you may have used it. “Urethane” in this case is a shortening of “polyurethane”, the same kind of plastic you use as a clear varnish among other things. “Urethane” is also a specific substance in the world of plastics; it is known as “ethyl carbamate”. Polyurethane does not contain ethyl carbamate, nor is it made from it.

Rubber can refer to a material or a substance. The substance, sometimes clarified as “natural rubber”, has historically been derived from the latex tree, though the proliferation of latex allergies has led to some companies experimenting with different plant sources. Synthetic rubbers, such as nitrile, do not contain latex; the “rubber” in their name refers to the fact that their properties mimic natural rubber. Technically, they are all referred to as “elastomers”.

Thus, “urethane rubber” contains neither urethane, nor rubber.

Speaking of latex, we all know and love latex paint for painting houses both inside and out. Sometimes we even use it to paint props. It does not actually contain any latex. It refers to paints which use plastics as their binders, such as acrylic, polyvinyl acrylic, styrene, etc. Vinyl resins are cheaper than acrylic resins, and most house paints contain a lot more vinyl than acrylic, which is why pure acrylic paint is a lot more expensive than house paint.

In case you are wondering, the acrylic in paint is the same acrylic found in sheet form, known commonly by trade names such as Plexiglas and Lucite. Crazy!

Related posts:

• Scenic Dope and Monster Mud An introduction and basic recipes to a basic coating and...
• Fun Prop Quotes Today, let me regale you with several quotes I’ve collected...
• The Future of Making Props 2 In the last post, I looked at desktop fabricators and...

Apulian bell-krater by the Schiller Painter. ca. 370 BCE. Würzburg, Martin von Wagner Museum H 5697

This vase shows Telephus threatening Orestes. Though several Ancient Greek plays dramatize this scene, modern scholars believe this vase depicts Aristophanes’ parody of Euripides’ version. More importantly, this vase is one of the rare examples of an illustration of an actual theatrical performance.  We see the “baby” which is held is actually a wine skin with Persian booties tied on the bottom. It is filled with wine so it could “bleed” as it is cut open.

Note this is not a “special effect”, at least in this context. In the play, Mnesilochus believes he is about to kill a baby, but as he unwraps its clothing, he realizes it is actually a wine skin. As the play is a parody, this may actually be describing a well-known prop trick. Our modern comedies have many examples of when a character realizes he or she is actually in a movie (or play) and the objects being used are merely “props”, ie cheap or poorly-made imitations.

The following comes from The Attic theatre: a description of the stage and theatre of the Athenians, and of the dramatic performances at Athens. The first quote speaks of statues. In some theatres, statues actually fall under the oversight of the scenic artists, but they can be the responsibility of the props department as well.

In addition to the scenery in the background the stage was of course decorated with such objects and properties as were required by the particular play. Aeschylus is said to have been the first to adorn the stage in this manner (Vit. Aesch. p. 6 Dindf.). If the scene was a palace or a temple, statues of the gods were generally placed in front of it, and are frequently referred to in the course of the drama. For instance there was the statue of Athene in front of her temple in the Eumenides, and the statues of the tutelary deities before the palace of the Atreidae in the Electra of Sophocles. In the Hippolytus there were two statues in front of the palace of Theseus, one of Artemis the huntress, and the other of Cypris the goddess of love. When Hippolytus returns from the hunt, he offers a garland of flowers to the statue of Artemis, but refuses to pay the slightest homage to the statue of Cypris, in spite of the remonstrances of his attendant. Again, in the country region depicted in the Oedipus Coloneus the statue of the hero Colonus stood in a conspicuous position (Aesch. Eum. 242; Soph. Electr. 1373, O.C. 59; Eur. Hipp. 70–106.). Other examples of the practice of decorating the stage with statues are frequently to be met with both in tragedy and in comedy.

The book next speaks of altars, obelisks, tombs and benches. Again, these items may fall under other departments, such as scenery. The point is not to quibble over the “prop-iness” of these objects, but rather to provide a catalog of the various objects which may have been found in an Ancient Greek production.

Altars again were very common objects upon the Greek stage. In the Supplices of Aeschylus the fugitive maidens take refuge round an altar. The Oedipus Tyrannus opens with the spectacle of a group of Thebans kneeling in supplication before the altar of Apollo (Aesch. Suppl. 188–200; Soph. O.R. 1–3, 142.). Another very ordinary feature in the stage-decoration was the stone obelisk in honour of Apollo of the Highways. It was an ordinary practice among the Greeks to place such obelisks in front of their houses. Their presence upon the stage is frequently referred to both in tragedy and in comedy (Poll.iv. 123; Aesch. Agam. 1080 ff.; Schol. Eur. Phoen. 631; Arist. Vesp. 875.). Various other objects were occasionally required by particular plays. There was the tomb of Darius in front of the palace of Xerxes in the Persae, and the tomb of Agamemnon in front of the palace of the Atreidae in the Choephori. In the Oedipus Coloneus a rocky ledge was required for Oedipus to rest himself upon. In the Acharnians and the Knights a few benches must have been erected upon the stage to serve as a rude imitation of the Pnyx. Walls, watch-towers, and beacon-towers are mentioned by Pollux; and the presence of other similar decorations and erections can be inferred from the extant tragedies and comedies (Aesch. Pers. 684. Choeph. 4; Soph. O.C. 19; Poll. iv. 127.).

Finally, this text discusses chariots and animals. I’ve given my opinion about whether an animal is a prop or not; a chariot, on the other hand, most certainly is.

There was one piece of realism which the Greeks were not averse to, and that was the presence of horses and chariots upon the stage. There are many instances in tragedy of per sons from a distance arriving in a chariot drawn by horses or mules. The vast size of the Greek theatre, and the length and narrowness of the stage, made it peculiarly suitable for displays of this character. In the Agamemnon of Aeschylus Agamemnon and Cassandra approach the palace in a chariot; Agamemnon remains seated there for a considerable time, while he converses with Clytaemnestra; he then dismounts and enters the palace, leaving Cassandra still in the chariot. In the Prometheus the chorus of the Oceanidae enter the stage in a car. In the Electra of Euripides, when Clytaemnestra comes to visit her daughter at the country cottage, she arrives in a chariot, accompanied by Trojan maidens, who assist her to dismount. Several other instances might be mentioned. Animals for riding were also introduced upon the stage. In the Prometheus there is the winged steed upon which Prometheus makes his entrance; and finally in the Frogs of Aristophanes Xanthias rides in upon a donkey (Aesch. Agam. 782–1054, Prom. 135, 279, 284; Eur. Elecr. 998, 999; Arist. Ran. 27.).

Related posts:

• Ancient Greek Theatre Props How were props used in Ancient Greek theatre? How were...
• Slave Shack set props Slave Shack, at the Algonquin Theatre, opened this past Monday....
• Ancient Greek Weapons An illustration showing common and interesting weapons used by the...

San-nin Kichisa Kuruwa no Hatsu-gai 1860 by Toyokuni III

Kabuki is a traditional form of theatre in Japan which began around four hundred years ago. It is a highly stylized form of theatre, and its use of props is very formalized and full of tradition. I thought it would be interesting to take a look at how they use and make props in Kabuki. I don’t speak or read Japanese, so while I took care to double and triple-check all the terminology, someone more knowledgeable than I may still find mistakes. Still, I hope you’ll find what follows to be a good overview of props in Kabuki theatre.

Terminology

The word for props is 小道具, or kodōgu. Kabuki distinguishes between different categories of props just like those of us in English-speaking countries. If you need a refresher, check out my article on the different categories of props, as well as an illustration of these categories. Hand props are called 持ち道具, or mochidōgu. Mochidōgu include accessories, swords and other weapons, fans and armor (or yoroi); basically, everything which is portable. Set props, such as furniture, set dressing and other items left on stage for the duration of the performance, are known as dedōgu. Large props are named 大道具, or ōdōgu. In the US, we would consider ōdōgu to be scenery; indeed, the Japanese treat it as a separate department as well, with different technicians involved, so we will not spend any more time on it here.

Props which are used up at each performance (consumables and food) are called kiemono. Props which are broken and destroyed each performance are kowaremono. Vehicles and portable shrines are known as norimono. Rigged and trick props are called shikake, or shikake mono. A great example of a shikake mono is a branding iron with a button-activated electric filament which ignites a match head to produce a puff of smoke. Red paint on the iron also serves to leave a red mark on the actor being branded (McNicol 33). Kabuki also considers several other items to fall under the realm of props, such as animal costumes (nuigurumi), footgear (hakimono) and headgear. Unlike in the US, snow, snowflakes and artificial blossoms (tsuri eda) are responsibility of ōdōgu, rather than the prop makers (Scott 155).

Among the most difficult props to make are the decapitated heads, known as 首 (kubi) or kirikubi. Kubi are divided up into dakubi, or “low-class” head, and jōkubi, or “high-class” head. Dakubi are usually cotton forms stuffed with wood shavings, sometimes covered in Japanese paper, with crudely painted features and hair. The neck may have a piece of red cloth attached. Jōkubi are more realistic and well-made. They can be carved out of oak or paulownia wood, or made of papier-mâché over a wooden base (hariko no kubi). The construction of these were reserved for master carvers, who attempted to capture the exact likeness of whichever actor it was supposed to represent. Examples of jōkubi from the Meiji era (1868-1912 CE) still remain in existence at the Fujinama warehouse (more on Fujinama in a bit).

Despite its more formal classification of props, Kabuki is not immune to the age-old question of “is it a prop, or scenery (or costume)?” In a play called “Eihon Taikoki”, a warrior named Misuhide takes a stake from a bamboo thicket and sharpens it into a weapon. In this case, the odōgu department constructs the thicket, while the kodōgu department makes the stake (Scott 143). Surely, there is discussion and collaboration in determining these distinctions.

Fujinami Kodogu

A discussion of props in Kabuki is incomplete without a look at Fujinami Kodogu, or the Fujinami Props Co., Ltd. They are the sole supplier of Kabuki props in Japan (McNicol 30).

Fujinami main headquarters

At one time, the kodōgu were made in each theatre. In 1855, a massive earthquake destroyed nearly all of Edo (modern-day Tokyo), including the prop storage of the Ichimur Theater in Asakusa. Seeing an opportunity, a man named Yohei Fujinami began collecting and storing all sorts of items which could be rented for use onstage. This was also the time of the Meiji Ishin (Meiji Restoration), when the new Emperor required all Samurai to sell off family-owned possessions such as armor, swords, screens and tea ceremony utensils. Fujinami began buying these up as well. In 1872, he officially opened the Fujinami Kodogu in the midst of the city’s theatre district. It was the first enterprise of its kind in Japan (Hirata 46).

Fujinami began constructing a nearly impenetrable kura storehouse for his massive collection in 1896, complete with reinforced steel doors and meter-thick walls (McNicol 30). His planning and foresight paid off, as the structure survived the Great Kanto Earthquake of 1923. During the American air raids against Tokyo in World War II, Fujinami’s warehouse and the Matsuya department store were two of the only vertical structures to remain along riverbank east of central Asakusa. Kabuki performances were able to resume 16 days after the Japanese surrendered to the Allies in large part because so many of the props and stage necessities were preserved in the warehouse (Hirata 47).

During the war, the company was run by Fujinami Yohei III, grandson of the original Fujinami. He wrote and published many articles on his work and experiences in the theatre, and was well-renowned for his armor-reconstruction skills (Scott 148). After the war, he found it harder to find highly-skilled craftsmen, and was pressured to decrease the quality of his work to cut costs. Perhaps this is why he committed suicide in 1952, leaving behind a note which read, “I can do no more so I go” (Scott 149).

His son, Fujinami Yohei IV, took over the company. Today, the president is Isamu Tanaka. In addition to the central storehouse, the company has five warehouses in the Tokyo suburbs, where they store hundreds of thousands of props (McNicol 30), including over 10000 swords dating back 150 years (Hirata 47). The company has about 120 employees, with 20 of them artisans.

The Use of Props in Performance

A Kabuki theatre keeps the kodōgu in a special room. The heya mono kata are the men who pull the props needed for each performance from here (Scott 144).

Stagehands are known as kōken or kurogo. A kōken places a prop on stage only when it is needed, and removes it as soon as it is finished. This is done in full view of the audience with no attempt to hide or disguise the theatricality of the moment (Taylor 170).

A property master is known as a 小道具方, or shō dōgukata (sometimes anglicized as kōdogu-kata). The shō dōgukata manages, oversees and distributes the props based on the daily schedule (Petersen 267). He will join a production for its four to five day rehearsal period. During rehearsals and performances, he will place and remove props from the edge of the stage. He is the one responsible for checking and repairing props as they are used. If they need more than a quick-fix, he will send the note back to the prop shop. He also facilitates communication between the Kabuki actor and the Fujinami craftsmen (Hirata 47).

Kabuki is a highly stylized and formalized form of theatre, and thus some props are modified from their real-life counterparts for theatrical business. For instance, swords can be made to rattle by shaking them; Kabuki actors use this sound to convey aggression or nervousness (McNicol 31). An axe may have a secret compartment concealing makeup and a small mirror; the actors will use this for touching-up his face during long periods onstage (McNicol 32).

People

Props are constructed by the department known as the kosakuba. The types of craftsmen needed to construct props can include carpenters, carvers, sculptors, metal workers, armorers, lacquer workers, and painters (Scott 144). The Fujinami workshop is located on the second floor of the Asakusa headquarters (McNicol 32). As mentioned above, the Kabuki actors will give requests for props to the shō dōgukata, who will then bring it to the craftsmen. The actor may designate the height of a chair seat, for instance, and then it is up to the craftsman to make a drawing and fill in the rest of the measurements (Hirata 47).

Many craftsmen inherit their skills from their fathers and grandfathers (Scott 148). Fujinami has its new employees go through a three-year apprenticeship, followed by a written test. Tanaka, the president, estimates it takes an artisan ten years to become fully-versed in all things Kabuki-prop related (McNicol 34). Though Japan’s retirement age is 60, Fujinami has had some artisans who have worked there well into their seventies and eighties. Recent ones include Matsuo Kajiro, sculptor, carver and mask-maker (Scott 149); Kazuo Takeuchi, furniture-maker (Hirata 47); and Kiyoshi Yamanaka, metal objects (McNicol 33).

The feudal system in Japan meant that the secrets of prop-making, such as formulas and patterns, were kept closely guarded (Scott 152). Students relied on the “stolen technique”, in which they watched a master in action for years; a master who actually taught a student their skills would lose his standing (McNicol 34). These days, the older generation is much more likely to share their knowledge and skills with the next generation so the younger generation can learn more efficiently (Hirata 47). Regular readers of this blog may recognize this concept in my own article about sharing and secret knowledge.

A props person may also be referred to as a kodōgu-ya. This word can also refer to a dealer in second-hand furniture. Though props can be kept in use for decades, and even centuries, and artisans can build any number of items, kodōgu-ya still need to buy certain props. Like their Western counterparts, they find these at antique fairs and from dealers (McNicol 32).

Materials

As previously mentioned, many traditional Kabuki props are made out of paulownia wood, also known in Japan as 桐, or kiri. Paulownia is light-weight and strong with a straight, fine grain like balsa wood. It is also dimensionally-stable and resistant to warping, like MDF. It grows to maturity quickly like bamboo. These properties not only made it popular to the traditional craftsmen in years gone by, but also attractive to the modern artisan looking for more sustainable materials.

In addition to wood, other traditional materials include paper, papier-mâché and bamboo. Modern additions include resin, fiberglass and plastics. The choice for materials has much to do with the need for lightness in a kabuki prop. A mask can be constructed of up to 35 layers of  handmade Japanese washi paper. Because that paper is extremely strong along the grain, but tears easily across it, the strips of paper in each successive layer are laid perpendicularly to the one before it. This type of paper is so different from modern paper, Fujinami actually buys large quantities of antique books and old documents to tear apart for raw materials (McNicol 33). While papier-mâché is fine for fake food, historical armor and swords need to be reproduced with precise historical accuracy (Scott 144). A set of armor can take a skilled craftsman over six months to make. Though Fujinama once employed its own armor-makers, these days the work is done mainly by outside artisans (McNicol 31-2).

Danjuro Ichikawa IX as Kamakura Gongoro Kagemasa in Shibaraku

In his own writings, Fujinami Yohei III describes a lion’s head mask which is father had worked with in 1893. It was carved from paulownia wood in the fashion of a Nara doll. The chisel marks were left visible, and the varnish was put on so as as not to obscure them. Its eyes were jade balls, and the lower part of its teeth were gilded with gold dust. The lower jaw could be moved freely using the thumb. Fujinami III ventured a guess that it was made by an artisan named Yasumoto Kamhachi I (Scott 150). Fujinami III then goes on to describe how his father made a duplicate of this mask:

Thereupon Yohei summoned Kobayashi Masakichi, who was a master craftsman in his employ, and ordered him to make a mould of the lion’s head. For this purpose Kobayashi used a modelling apparatus such as dentists use for the making of tooth moulds, and obtained a concave mould of the original. Next he poured plaster into it and produced an exact model of Danjuro’s treasure. With this plaster model by his side, Kobayashi set to work on a block of Nambu paulownia wood and finally perfected a lion’s head which in every detail reproduced the characteristics of its prototype (Scott 151).

Because the Fujinami warehouse survived throughout this time period, these lion head masks are still around today.

Bibliography

“Crafting the Past”, by Nobuko Hirata. iNTOUCH, December 2009.

“Kabuki Props“, by Tony McNicol. Wingspan, March 2007.

An Invitation to Kagura: Hidden Gem of the Traditional Japanese Performing Arts, by David Petersen. Published by David Petersen, 2007.

The Kabuki Theatre of Japan, by Adolphe Clarence Scott, Courier Dover Publications, 1999.

“Yoshitsune Senbon Zakura: The Visual Dimension in a Kabuki Performance”, by Beverly Angelique Taylor, December 1995. University of Hawaii dissertation, department of Philosophy.

Related posts:

• Working with What you Have The tools and materials we can use in our prop-making...
• Props and plots I’ve written previously about the first use of the word...
• To literally steal the show The following tale was recounted in the Dublin University magazine...

Just as “property man” was the common term for one who works in props from the early 1600s through World War II, so too does “property woman” appear in the descriptions and literature on theatre. The Oxford English Dictionary tracks its earliest usage to a one-act play published in 1795 titled New hay at the old market. An actor playing a prompter speaks the line:

Oh ! that alters the case. Well, let it be handsome; do you mind? Stud it with brass-nails, and cover it with the best Morocco—and tell the Property-woman to put a good soft velvet cushion in it, dye hear ?

I’ve dug up an even earlier reference from 1780. In his Remarks upon the Present Taste for acting Private Plays, R. Cumberland, Esq., writes:

Happy author, who shall see his characters thus grouped into a family-piece, firm as the Theban band of friends, where all is zeal and concord, no bickerings nor jealousies about stage-precedency, no ladies to fall sick of the spleen, and toss up their parts in a huff, no heart-burnings about flounced petticoats and silver trimmings, where the mother of the whole company stands wardrobe-keeper and property-woman, whilst the father takes post at the side scene in the capacity of prompter with plenipotentiary controul over PS’s and OP’s.

The use of the term “property-woman” appears in both America and England throughout the nineteenth century up through the early twentieth century. In many instances, it is the gender equivalent of “property-man”, describing anyone who works in props, from what we consider today to be a property master, to a property artisan and even a run crew person who handles and tracks the props backstage during a performance. In other cases, it appears to define a more specialized backstage role, used interchangeably with “wardrobe woman” and even “dresser”.

In today’s theatre, we have ceased using these gender-specific terms, and have switched to more descriptive titles, such as properties artisan, properties carpenter and properties director. However, you occasionally hear the term “property mistress” used clumsily in place of “property master” when the property master is a woman. It turns out this term was actually used fairly frequently in the early twentieth century. An example comes from a 1921 article in Century Magazine, by George P. Baker:

Just before a piece goes into rehearsal it is read to the artistic and producing force as well as to the actors, all of whom watch it for the special problems it may have for them. Immediately after the reading, copies of the play are handed to the costumer, designer of scenery, property mistress, the person in charge of lighting, and the stage-manager. As soon as possible, these meet individually with the author to make sure that they know exactly what he wants, and, as groups, to establish their plans cooperatively.

While the twentieth century may seem late in the game for women to take charge of props, keep in mind that the idea of a property master in general did not take shape until the mid-nineteenth century. People may have had the duties of a property master, but it fell under a different job (usually the prompter or an assistant).

Strangely, the term all but disappears throughout the middle of the century, only to start popping up again in the late 1980s. By the twenty-first century, more and more theatre companies were switching the job title to the more appropriate (and gender-neutral) “properties director” to describe the person in charge of the props shop. Individual shows still use the term “property master”, and most Playbills and programs use that term whether it was a man or woman doing the job. “Property mistress” shows up only in informal usage and in fluffy news articles.

Related posts:

• Prop Master vs. Props Director What is the difference between a property master and a...
• Why the term “prop master”? Why do we use the term “property master”? In our...
• Historic Description of a Props Master (originally from The Young Woman’s Journal, 1921) The Property Man...

Some may question whether masks are actually props. Often they are considered costumes, and in some cases, they can be considered a completely separate department. However, I feel that because they are physical objects of the theatre, they are worth investigating for historical purposes. In Ancient Greek theatre, the mask-makers were the same craftsmen who would make other theatrical props called for in the show (read my article on Ancient Greek Theatre props for more information), and it is not implausible to believe that such was the case in other theatrical traditions.

I would like to add one further caveat as well before continuing. Masks were used in many early societies as parts of rituals. Ancient Greek theatre rose out of such rituals, and many other early rituals evolved into forms of theatre as well. While rituals are not theatre per say, they can be considered part of the theatrical tradition. In any event, masks and mask-makers may be viewed as the earliest predecessors of props and prop artisans.

Though no Greek theatre masks have survived to the modern day, we have some examples of Roman New Comedy masks which have evolved out of the Greek tradition.

Terracotta mask from 395BCE-332BCE

Many early theatre traditions made masks out of leather or hide, and included feathers and fur as decorations. While clay and stone masks may been less prevalent, they are the only kinds which have survived, as anything organic has long since decomposed.

Preceding the Greeks were the Ancient Egyptians. Here we see a ceramic Anubis mask, one of the only surviving helmet masks from Egypt.

Ceramic Anubis mask

Currently held in the Hildesheim Pelizaeus-Museum, the mask weighs about 17 pounds and is believed to date from about 600BCE. Notice the two holes below the head; these are eye-holes for the priest who wore it. Unlike the Roman mask above, this mask was used in a more ceremonial rather than theatrical purpose.

One of the oldest masks believed to be in existence is this stone mask from the neolithic period.

Neolithic stone mask, photograph by Gryffindor

Dating from 7000BCE, the mask is currently held at the Musée de la Bible et de la Terre Sainte in France, which displays artifacts from the Palestinian area.

The Mask Makers Web has far more information about Mask Traditions around the world if you are so interested.

Related posts:

• Ancient Greek Weapons An illustration showing common and interesting weapons used by the...
• Ancient Greek Theatre Props How were props used in Ancient Greek theatre? How were...
• Ancient Greek Helmets Illustrations of seventeen various Greek and Etruscan helmets....

It should go without saying that if your theatre department offers a class in props, you should take it. If you go to a school that has multiple types of props classes, even better.

Other departments in your theatre program may have classes you can take as well. Mask-making, costume crafts, puppet building, scenic carpentry, etc. Even if you take a regular costume class, you will learn how to sew. You may also discover that you prefer working in costumes rather than in props. Part of going to college is to expose yourself to new experiences and career possibilities; you should keep an open mind and not rationalize your choices based on what you think you should be doing or what others expect of you.

Many props people I know who studied theatre in college focused on scenic design. They continue working in props as a way to pay the bills in between design gigs. Others, such as yours truly, find they actually prefer being a props person rather than a scenic designer. Scenic design classes are very helpful for a props person. First, the scenic designer is the main person a props master deals with on a show, so knowing how they work and how they arrive at their choices will help you deal with your designer better; it will give you a common vocabulary to speak with. Second, a designer comes up with a concept, and works out the details based on that concept and overall look. As a props person, you continue filling in the gaps of the design down to the tiniest details. Being able to think like a designer will help you take in the design as a whole and use it to decide what magnets to put on the refrigerator, or what color to stain the end table. If the designer wants a lamp, it is more efficient if the props master presents three options which fit the design of the play, rather than three completely random choices.

If your school offers a technical direction class, that is good for a props person as well; you can learn the project management skills which will help you as a props master and the ability to develop construction drawings from a designer’s drafting, which can assist you as a prop artisan.

The fine arts department is another place where you can find classes to take. Many arts departments are very particular about who takes their classes; in fact, if you are a junior or senior and not an art major or minor, they might not let you take any of their classes. But if you do manage to work your way in, classes in sculpting, mold-making, metal-work, mixed-media and found-object assemblage and the like will behoove you greatly.

In addition to practical arts classes, art history is an excellent class to broaden your prop knowledge. In fact, any sort of design history or theatre history classes will expand your knowledge base.

If you attend a liberal arts school, do not give up the opportunity that your general education classes may present. Rather than taking easy or basic courses in the other departments, look for the ones which are secret prop-classes in disguise. Classes in sociology, anthropology and history which focus on domestic life or the objects used by various cultures in the past or present. In my own undergraduate years, I fulfilled one of my humanities requirements with a class entitled, “Japanese Anthropology through Film,” which gave me a great crash course in contemporary Japanese life and pop culture, as well as some great reference books which will come in handy when I do a play set in Japan.

Remember: a props person is always learning, and every experience can enrich not just our vocation, but our lives as well. Have a good school year, and stay classy.

Related posts:

• Learn How to Build Anything I came across this interesting website: 101 Free Open Course...
• It’s Friday. Take a break. Four great sites for Halloween decorating, an explanation of resins,...
• Review: The Business of Theatrical Design This is the story of The Business of Theatrical Design,...

Companies which produce a lot of musicals or operas may have a separate department for dealing with the musicians’ “stuff”. Other houses may strictly state that props, and only props, deals with those matters. Finally, other places may not have a set protocol and simply decide it on a show-by-show basis.

Is a live animal a prop? A lot of theatres may automatically assign the procurement and wrangling of a live animal to the props department. Many prop departments may instead contend that “if it poops and eats, it’s casting.” in other words, the responsibility of a live animal falls to the same people in charge of live people. Of course, it may still fall to the props department, either because of tradition or practicalities’ sake. Again, there is no correct answer.

The lesson to take from these two examples is that the strict academic definition of a prop and the duties of a prop shop are not necessarily the same thing. Not everything which may be considered a prop is procured by the prop shop, and not everything done by a prop shop is a prop. Prop shops in the different disciplines of film, television and theatre have slightly different duties, and even prop shops in the same discipline may vary in their particular responsibilities.

Related posts:

• Confusions in the Definition of a Prop The definition of a prop is a sometimes nebulous thing....
• Prop Master vs. Props Director What is the difference between a property master and a...
• Cardboard Props Here is an interesting article: Students make ‘trashy’ props for...

I’ve written previously about what the props in Shakespeare’s time might have been. Henslowe’s Diary provides a list of the props in storage at Henslowe’s Rose Theatre. Though his diary does not mention Shakespeare, he was a contemporary and his theatre was similar in size and organization. I gave an excerpt of what was on that list, but since then, I’ve dug up the list in its entirety:

• One rock, one cage, one tomb, one hell mouth.
• One tomb of Guido, one tomb of Dido, one bedstead.
• Eight lances, one pair of stairs for Phaeton.
• Two steeples and one chime of bells and one beacon.
• One globe and one golden scepter.
• Two marchpanes, and the City of Rome.
• One golden fleece, two rackets, and one bay tree.
• One wooden hatchet, one leather hatchet.
• One wooden canopy, old Mahomet’s head.
• One lion skin, one bear’s skin and Phaeton’s limbs and Phaeton’s chariot and Argosse’ head.
• Neptune fork and garland.
• One crosier staff, Kent’s wooden leg.
• Jerosses head and rainbow, one little altar.
• Eight visors, Tamberlayne bridel, one wooden mattock.
• Cupid’s bow and quiver, the Cloth of the Sun and Moon.
• One boar’s head and Cerberus three heads.
• One caduceus, two moss banks and one snake.
• Two fanes of feathers, Belendon stables, one tree of golden apples, Tantelus tree, nine iron targets.
• One copper target, seventeen foiles.
• Four wooden targets, one greave armor.
• One sign for Mother Redcap, one buckler.
• Mercury’s wings, Tasso pictures, one helmet with a dragon, one shield with three lions, one elm bowl.
• One chain of dragons, one gilt spear.
• Two coffins, one bull’s head.
• Three timbrels, one dragon in fostes.
• One lion, two lion heads, one great horse with his legs, one sackbutt.
• One wheel and frame in the siege of London.
• One pair of wrought gloves.
• One Pope’s miter.
• Three Imperial crowns, one plain crown.
• One frame for the heading in Black Jone.
• One ghost’s crown and one crown with a sun.
• One black dog.
• One caldron for the Jew.

Maybe at some point, I’ll look into what some of these props actually were.

Related posts:

• Shakespeare’s Props As yesterday (April 23) was William Shakespeare’s unofficial birthday, I...
• How to make a wooden ratchet I published my first Instructable. It’s for a wooden ratchet...
• Challenges in making props lists for Shakespeare When faced with a new production, the second thing a...