Mops, buckets, tin pails, milk jugs, Sabbath candles, plates, forks, cups, bagels, and that's only the beginning. Props, nobody really notices them, but you couldn't run a successful show without them. From the telescope that spots the iceberg in "Titanic," to the fiddle in "Fiddler on the Roof," props are essential.
Every Saturday from 9 to 3, our drama department gathers to work on the technical side of each show. As props head I am in charge of making/pulling all of the props. Two rooms are dedicated to props, and as no prop is thrown away, we have quite an extensive selection. After reading the script and creating a list of all the props, I am able to see what we need. Then I must see what we have, and what we have to find. Usually the latter is much greater.
On the list for today is constructing the bed for the dream scene. After studying the plans, it's off to Staples for butcher paper so I can create a pattern to draw to scale. First I create a grid on the butcher paper, with three-inch squares. From there I can retrace the pattern of the bed onto the squares. After tracing the pattern on to the wood, I can then build the bed. Meanwhile, I have a crew of people pulling benches and tables out of the cage. This is a daunting process as the cage is a jumble of chairs, desks, couches, tables, and fireplaces from past shows. It is heavy lifting and the stairs are extremely narrow, making it quite a burden. The process takes the whole day.
Almost anything can be considered a prop, so I must be able to create almost anything. Resembling a fairy godmother, I must pull things out of midair: brand new re-upholstered couches and chairs, and broken guitars. Sponges become cheese, coca-cola turns into brandy, and muslin into turkey.
The props can make or break a show. It is the props that make the show believable, the props that help tell the story, and the props that help give character to the actors.