Some works of theatre attempt to overturn conventionality by completely subverting it. Other shows turn convention on its head by playing into it before twisting it into something unexpected. The latter case is true with Grey Gardens, the real-life tale of two women who led nonconformist lives and who engaged in an emotional tug-of-war. The first act of this unorthodox Broadway musical transpires one afternoon in July 1941 in the posh East Hampton home of the Beales, with their elegant living room displaying stately furniture, a baby grand piano and billowing curtains. At this time “Little Edie” Beale, cousin to Jackie Onassis, is about to be married to Joe Kennedy, jr., until her mother, Edith Bouvier Beale (a.k.a. “Big Edie”), reveals allegedly scandalous past events that send the social climbing politician-to-be running for the door. It’s a power play that could be viewed as either saving her daughter from a controlling, ambitious man (like her soon-to-be ex-husband) or trapping her by her side. Either way, the women are soon to be cast out from high society when “Big Edie” gets divorced and “Little Edie” later gives up ambitious dreams of acting and singing to take care of her mother. In the second act, which takes place in 1973, the aging, arguing mother and daughter are living in seclusion, with their house succumbing to squalor as they take in more than 50 cats, live with raccoons and don’t clean up their messy environment.
“The structure of the piece is what initially interested me the most,” reveals scenic designer Allen Moyer. “It’s so fascinating because the piece is really two different styles. The first act is so remarkably different from the second act. You needed a kind of physical production, since the first act is one thing, and it’s as if the second act is deconstructed. In our case it’s literally deconstructed, both metaphorically and literally, because when we did the show originally at Playwrights Horizons, there was no space for the set for the first act to go if it wasn’t somehow onstage.”
Thus the choice was made to focus on the living room stage and to later contrast it with the stark set in the second act. “There are a lot of people who are actually confused by the structure because the first act is so straightforward and the second act is so different,” remarks Moyer. “I like to think that, without the old-fashioned, slightly predictable quality of the first act, the second act wouldn’t have the impact that it does because it’s so different. You really do feel the change in these women’s lives. It’s like a visceral response, and I think if you didn’t have that as a comparison, it just wouldn’t be as effective.”
Designing For Ruins
Some might argue that these women gave up on living with people and chose to isolate themselves in their later years, but others might argue that they lead their unconventional lives the way they saw fit. Moyer felt that the best way to approach the story would be to respect the idea that the way the two Beale women lead their lives could be perceived as a choice. He also watched the Grey Gardens documentary film to inspire his design plans, and he often had it at work for reference, stopping individual frames for comparison, particularly for the front porch and windows. There were a few creative licenses taken, but without impacting the story.
“The interior in the first act isn’t represented in the movie at all, so that gave me an opportunity to put together what I thought would be best for the show knowing the style of the house,” explains Moyer. “You see the dining room in the movie a lot, so the play’s living room fireplace is actually based on the fireplace in the dining room. When I finally got into Grey Gardens, it was after the show was already being built. The fireplace in the living room is very different. It’s in the same style, but it’s a little grander than the one in the dining room. So we made changes like that, but it was definitely true to the style of the house, and the first act is a little idealized anyway. It wasn’t a matter of needing to have every piece of molding down to the exact match. It’s a little bit fantastical. It’s like it’s through their eyes, almost like a Philadelphia Story environment that they lived in a version of.”
Because there are only three small scenes outside of the house — one in front of the house at the opening, one on a golf course and the other a backyard scene at the end of the first act — slipstages were used to present those up front, allowing for the main room to stay intact during the first act. In the opening act, a slipstage upstage allows a staircase set to slide in the back after the living room set has slid downstage toward the audience, while slipstages in front allow for the exterior scenes to be displayed quickly and conveniently, with the main set temporarily slid upstage. During the second act, the front of the house, with its brown wood exterior, is displayed in the opening and during various scenes; thus, the main stage is slid back again to allow for that.
“The main unit moves up and downstage and has a turntable in that,” notes Moyer. “Then there are two slipstages upstage, so when it moves downstage, the two slipstages fill in upstage and make the hallway in the first act. Then when it moves upstage, they split and go off. There are technically three slipstages downstage. Stage right is a slip stage, and stage left is a slipstage but also has a second one hinged on that goes up the wall. So when we need it to go really far across it can do that. When the upstage one moves upstage, the upstage ones move off, and the downstage ones can move on. In the second act the upstage slipstages are permanently in their off position. It still allows us to move the thing and then use the ones downstage. I am very pleased with the way the show moves.”
Stark Lives, Stark Lighting
The lighting grid is also highly visible in the first act, but its bright presence adds to the sense of surreality. “When you see the first act, it’s all about beautiful color,” muses Moyer. “In a way, their life has the structure of an operetta or a musical comedy, so there’s no reason to believe that life isn’t going to continue that way. Then all of a sudden it’s all disrupted, and it falls apart.”
By the second act, the traditional musical genre elements are subverted, with the opening playing like a sarcastic comedy team-up between two women who have a love/hate relationship. But the mirthful tone devolves from funny to tragic as the two women bicker with each other and cope with the community complaining about their animals and the foul smells coming from their home. Appropriately, the basement walls represented along the edges of the stage are silvery and feature hundreds of cans stacked up. The bedroom set of the two women sits on a turntable that includes a staircase and spins around to display a basement entryway that works with the rest of the staging. An attic set at stage left appears near the end of the show.
“There were some pictures in the newspaper when they were trying to condemn the house in the early ‘70s, and there was a wonderful picture of Little Edie standing next to a mountain of cans,” recalls Moyer. “This is their garbage that they didn’t throw away. It was in the house and was as tall as she was. It was eight feet wide. It was huge. So in the second act I thought it would be fun to see all those stacks and stacks of cans.”
The walls of the basement are covered with mirrors, and the look was inspired by photographs of Newport mansions taken by Deborah Turberville, whose portraits of houses were often taken through the reflections of old mirrors with the silvering wearing off. Projection designer Wendall K. Harrington also knew about Turberville’s work, so she and Moyer easily found common ground to work on.
Projections were used in the second act to display images of cats and raccoons that could not physically be represented onstage. Video of the animals flash onstage for a few moments during the second act, which allows the audience to get into the physical and emotional space of the characters. Three Barco R6 projectors are fitted with Whalberg dowsers on the balcony rail, and two Christie LX25 projectors are planted onstage. The media server is Watchout.
For Moyer, the biggest challenge on Grey Gardens was “achieving a wonderful contrast and basically being able to make a space that was evocative enough to feel like a decrepit house. For me, it was all about making the most of the contrast between the first act and the second act. I do think that there is a lot of contrast in the lighting. It’s less easy to notice it, but I certainly think it’s a starker approach in the lighting in the second act, with sharper angles.” (It’s also interesting to note that Christine Ebersole plays Big Edie in act one and Little Edie as a middle aged woman in act two.)
Moyer is an NYU graduate with 21 years of set and costume design experience, and he recently worked on The Little Dog Laughed, Twelve Angry Men and Landscape of the Body with Lili Taylor. He has also worked on a lot of opera productions nationwide, and that experience came into play here. “It always does as far as moving and the fact that I’m dealing with music,” he notes. “I always think it’s really important that a design for a musical should be musical, and a lot of times I think it’s not. I think I’m just used to doing shows of a certain scale; let’s put it that way. I’m very pleased with the way Grey Gardens came out.”
The show itself is sure to elicit debate, since one can argue whether Little Edie is being emotionally enslaved by her mother or if she chooses to dwell with her rather than pursue her own dreams. “That’s the wonderful thing about it — it depends on your point of view,” remarks Moyer of Grey Gardens. “I think that’s what makes it an exciting piece. It’s something you can watch and, depending on your personal experiences, have certain reactions to. The best of drama and dramatic literature does that. It’s not something that’s so cut and dry. It can be so intensely personal that it can alter with your mood and what your experiences are.”
