When a well-known local New Hampshire director approached seamstress Mary Selvoski about refitting a dozen costumes for an 1800s version of Shakespeare’s The Tempest, the master seamstress didn’t hesitate. “He gave me two weeks,” she says and shrugs. “I’ve had tighter deadlines.”

It’s Monday morning when I catch up to Selvoski at her shop, Mary’s Closet, in an old warehouse called the Varick Building in the Millyard of Manchester, New Hampshire. Selvoski is cutting and restitching what to my eye just looks like an old blanket. But then she drapes her work over a nearby mannequin and the blanket is reborn as a flowing cloak. “It’s a spirit,” she says proudly. “There’s a few of those in The Tempest.”

If you have gone to a production of community theater anywhere in New Hampshire in the last four decades, odds are you’ve seen Selvoski’s work. Since 1980, the Granite State’s seamstress to the New Hampshire stars has been outfitting community theater groups, providing costumes from scratch or refitting outfits to meet the production’s needs. Taking a quick walk through her vast storage space, even the least theatrically savvy can identify the vast reach of her work. There’s a whole row of princess and queen outfits, from several copies of Beauty’s iconic yellow and blue gown to Glinda the Good Witch’s pink wings and high crown. An entire row is devoted to vests for men and another for Santa suits. There’s a shoe room and a hat room. And high up on the top shelf near the ceiling hangs an enormous Hello Kitty head. “My daughter made that,” Selvoski says. “She did a good job, don’t you think?”

In early 2016, Selvoski sold Mary’s Closet to Seacoast Repertory Theater, a well-known regional outfit based in Portsmouth. Now rechristened “Department M” by Seacoast Rep, Selvoski maintains her own corral of clients and serves as a designer and rental agent for the company. At this point, Selvoski estimates that she has 15,000 costumes in her warehouse.

Mary Selvoski in her workshop, Seaport Repertory Theater

Born in Chelsea, Massachusetts, and raised in Revere, Selvoski got her start in sewing out of stubbornness. She was a tumbler on the gymnastics team in her high school, but disliked her team’s costumes. “So I made new ones,” she says. “I’m very competitive, I look at other people’s work and think that maybe I can do better. That’s what’s kept me going.”

Ironically, it’s this same competitive nature that prevents the seamstress herself from attending the theater. She’s too critical. “I’ve never really been able to get into the show. I’m always looking at bad hemlines,” she says laughing. “Once I saw that an actress had a skirt made of the same material as an actor’s shirt and I thought, What were they thinking!”

Mary Selvoski – Seamstress, Costume Designer
Manchester, New Hampshire
Website
Facebook

Top photo courtesy Mary Selvoski

The post Mary Selvoski: Seamstress to the New Hampshire Stars appeared first on Take Magazine.

“My heroes have always been artists who reinvent themselves every few years,” says Brattleboro, Vermont artist Mutsu Crispin. “I love it when an artist goes through a transformation repeatedly. Picasso. Miles Davis. Someone who isn’t afraid to step out of their norm and become something new.“

Mutsu Crispin is also the pseudonym of John DiGeorge, a bouncing, 46-year-old dervish of an artist who is at times a costume designer, puppeteer, oneiric film instructor, filmmaker, choreographer, and, currently, a classic visual artist. Mostly though, Crispin is an explorer interested in transformation.

Mutsu Crispin | Photographed by David Nielsen

Crispin grew up in Marietta, Georgia, and then attended Harvard, where, he says, “they’d just hand you a camera and tell you to go make something.” After Harvard, Crispin moved to New York City, where he learned how to make movies, then to Brattleboro to begin work on Redbelly, a film written with his cousin Justin Allen. Redbelly is a freakishly old-world fairy tale, featuring a princess trapped in a stone tower, bereft of human contact. It also features a prince with an external glass stomach, born unable to use his mouth to speak, cry, or eat, who was captured by an opportunistic moonshiner who uses the glass stomach as a still.

“I’d been doing a lot of dream work,” Crispin explains. “I’d been delving deeply and consistently into my dream world. There were a lot of themes and images and interior dramas playing out in my dreams that a fairy tale would be an easy vehicle for. Redbelly (still in production) is very particular to Vermont, but not set in Vermont. It all grew out of the landscape. The stone tower. . .there’s stone walls everywhere. There’s also a monster in the movie. What’s the monster in the woods of Vermont? It’s a bear that carries winter in its belly. The prince gets stuck in his belly, and it’s the harshest winter imaginable. We filmed that sequence in a snowstorm in the White Mountains. The mythology is definitely grown out where we were when we conceived it.”

Redbelly Tower | Photographed by Mutsu Crispin

Crispin’s alternative project, Bouncy Ball Art, seems crafted by an entirely different artist. The series, which can be seen at the A.P.E. Ltd. Gallery in Northampton, Massachusetts March 8-April 2, is whimsical, bright, and playful. The constructions feature bouncy rubber balls pressed between plates of heavy plexiglass, then screwed together to hold them in place. The clue that links both pieces is an almost mythic reexamination of the fantastical aspects of childhood, never mind that the finished pieces look like massively constructed Hasbro Lite-Brite screen panels.

“There’s a lot of places these pieces go,” Crispin says. “The grids are pixelated. I grew up playing Atari, playing Nintendo. I was totally into video games—all those early video games like Super Mario Bros. All of these pieces are like the background of Zelda or Super Mario Bros. They’re also used to express the deepest impulses of things I’m exploring in my life.”

So where did the name Mutsu Crispin come from? DiGeorge used to spend summers working on a farm; he saw the words repeatedly on old apple crates, and they caught his imagination. “I’ve always felt a connection with Japanese words and filmmakers,” he explains. “I liked the juxtaposition of the Japanese word Mutsu with the English word Crispin. I came up with these two characters: Mutsu is an alien and Crispin is a monkey. They came together to form Mutsu Crispin, which is an apple, but also the name of my production company.

Sanctuary | Photographed by Mutsu Crispin

“I’ve always been caught by cultures where as an adult you name yourself,” he continues. “You go on a vision quest, and when you come back you name yourself. Sometimes at an art opening, someone will come up to me and ask, ‘Are you Mutsu Crispin?’ I really like that.”

Mutsu Crispin – multimedia artist
Brattleboro, Vermont
Website
Facebook

Top photo Bugs, photographed by Mutsu Crispin.

Bouncy Ball Art can be seen at the A.P.E. gallery in Northampton Massachusetts, March 8-April 2, 2017.

The post How Do You Like Them Apples? appeared first on Take Magazine.