Today's entry is from our incredibly talented technical director Cameron Purdy. Don't believe him when he says he doesn't know what he's doing. He is a wiz at bringing any and all set designs to life. In the pictures he added at the end, just remember those photos are all on the same stage - the changes are incredible!
My name is Cameron Purdy, and I have no idea what I’m doing. I don’t mean that in a cosmic, metaphysical sense, though that may also be true. More to the point, I am a technical director with no technical training, and I make it up as I go along.
Some background on me. When I was a lad, I started tinkering with bicycles, then graduated to lawnmowers, then motorcycles, and eventually cars and electronics. Somewhere in the middle of all that, lumber and power tools came into the mix. I joined a local community theater about 20 years ago, and found a home for all the fledgling skills I so wanted to explore when I was 24. The neat thing about the stage, for me, was that even if you weren’t all that great a carpenter, no one was going to see it from 40 feet away. So, I could hone my skills without the pressure or repercussions of a discriminating eye. And hone them I did. Over the next 15+ years, the miters got tighter, the doors slammed more solidly, and the designs got more intricate. Pulleys and ropes and flashpots and cantilevered platforms and battery operated carts with whirligigs and lights came and went and were torn down and disposed of. But never forgotten.
And now, I find myself technical Director for Montgomery Theater. A title that I still, to this day, am not sure applies to what I do. I build what other people draw. Sounds simple enough. But the people that design for us are very good. And they assume I am too. Well, I’m not about to show them otherwise. And every designer that comes my way teaches me something wonderful. I learned about making moldings with block foam. I learned how to simulate wood grain with latex paint. I learned about MDF, and all its wonderful possibilities. I learned how not to build and drive a 14 foot rotating platform stage. I grew brave and purchased fine woodworking tools, and laser levels, and air driven framing and finish nailers. I sculpted an entire stage with spray foam. I cut a pickup truck in half.
So, as long as I approach every day as if I know nothing, I will be a dry sponge, ready to absorb and learn and grow from anyone with skills and knowledge to impart. I am constantly humbled, and inspired by the talent, and joy I see in the people who have chosen the art of stage as their life’s work.
If this works, the next things you’ll see are a few photos of some projects I’m very proud of. Projects that scared the heck out of me, and then, somehow, fell beautifully into place.
Some background on me. When I was a lad, I started tinkering with bicycles, then graduated to lawnmowers, then motorcycles, and eventually cars and electronics. Somewhere in the middle of all that, lumber and power tools came into the mix. I joined a local community theater about 20 years ago, and found a home for all the fledgling skills I so wanted to explore when I was 24. The neat thing about the stage, for me, was that even if you weren’t all that great a carpenter, no one was going to see it from 40 feet away. So, I could hone my skills without the pressure or repercussions of a discriminating eye. And hone them I did. Over the next 15+ years, the miters got tighter, the doors slammed more solidly, and the designs got more intricate. Pulleys and ropes and flashpots and cantilevered platforms and battery operated carts with whirligigs and lights came and went and were torn down and disposed of. But never forgotten.
And now, I find myself technical Director for Montgomery Theater. A title that I still, to this day, am not sure applies to what I do. I build what other people draw. Sounds simple enough. But the people that design for us are very good. And they assume I am too. Well, I’m not about to show them otherwise. And every designer that comes my way teaches me something wonderful. I learned about making moldings with block foam. I learned how to simulate wood grain with latex paint. I learned about MDF, and all its wonderful possibilities. I learned how not to build and drive a 14 foot rotating platform stage. I grew brave and purchased fine woodworking tools, and laser levels, and air driven framing and finish nailers. I sculpted an entire stage with spray foam. I cut a pickup truck in half.
So, as long as I approach every day as if I know nothing, I will be a dry sponge, ready to absorb and learn and grow from anyone with skills and knowledge to impart. I am constantly humbled, and inspired by the talent, and joy I see in the people who have chosen the art of stage as their life’s work.
If this works, the next things you’ll see are a few photos of some projects I’m very proud of. Projects that scared the heck out of me, and then, somehow, fell beautifully into place.
7 Year Itch. I think this was my first time laying down a “hard wood” floor. ¼” luan plywood, with stain and latex poly topcoat. It turned out so beautifully; I wondered why I didn’t have it in my house. That is, until the first time someone dragged a chair across it and gouged it.
This is the border for 7 Year itch. It took 4 people about three days to make each piece by hand, and set them in place. This is about 500 pieces.
Batboy, the Musical. This set scared the hell out of me. I had this bright idea to sculpt the whole thing with chicken wire, and hose it down with spray foam to create a cave look. I convinced everyone else I knew what I was doing. Fools! It actually worked, but not without a lot of sleepless nights.
Bus Stop. This set was made up of so many individually made pieces, from the stones to the diagonal paneling, to the flooring. We just kept cutting and nailing and cutting and nailing and nailing!
That silhouette was so friggin’ cool! It changed color from dawn to dusk. If you look really close, you can see the telephone wires USR. The pump head CS was purchased new on Ebay, sandblasted, then sprayed with muriatic acid. In 12 hours, it looked like it had been outside for 100 years.
The house façade had a cedar shake roof.
The house façade had a cedar shake roof.
Rounding Third. In case anyone thinks stagecraft is all about lumber. We needed the coach’s truck onstage. So, one trip to the local scrap yard, and about 45 minutes with a gas powered canine saw, and voila! Half a truck. Cut the wheels and tires in half too. Probably the most fun I’ve ever had with a junkyard truck.
Spinning into Butter. I was just so happy with the woodwork on this one. The designer really challenged me with the compound miters, and the ornate crown moldings. That’s 2” block foam, stacked with sculpted MDF. The desk is all hand made with MDF, with a really great wood grain paint effect applied by the scenic artist.Cameron Purdy
Technical Director,
Montgomery Theater
Souderton, PA
Cameron is my technical theater hero! (And I'm not kidding!)
ReplyDeleteI stumbled across this blog while booking tickets for Moonlight and Magnolias. Pretty cool to see all of the sets and what went into them, since we do not get to many performances. It is amazing to see this caliber theater in our tiny town. Keep up the great work! Joanne Fabian, J Gray Fabian Photography
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