Matsy Stinson|Design

“Matsy Stinson’s costumes — in hues of orange, gold, blue and a vivid purple-and-green suit for Peterson’s servant — add to that fantasy feeling, as do Beckie Kravetz’s protruding wigs. (Marie’s society “makeover” from soldier gal to debutante puts her in the fashion realm of Cinderella’s stepsisters.)”

“Bae, flattened into a liberal feminist villain, bursts into many scenes as an interruption of her girlfriend’s thoughts and monologues. Angel, whom the script clearly favors, comes off as real and familiar, caught between fury and exhaustion at a throwaway comment or phrase from Bae, her face suddenly tight and guarded.”

“The workers’ cheery yellow smocks appear farcical against the dreary, grey warehouse setting and their expressionless assembly of boxes by rote. They wear jeans and sneakers, while The Boss (Alex Orthwein, not Bruce) sports a tuxedo with a rude red shirt, bowtie, and pocket square for maximum billionaire clown vibes. He’s also introduced sitting on a throne ... The only other bursts of color are that of red-uniformed workers (drummer Daniel Bloch and guitarist Idan Morim) and the garish yellow turf that lines the work stations and matches the femme workers’ garb. All workers’ name-tags bear only the name of the factory — rooting their trappings in compliance and erasure.

Bear with me, because here’s where my conspiracy theory unfolds in a manic, traffic light metaphor: the color a worker wears indicates their position in the factory’s hierarchy and in turn impacts their role in the uprising. Margot, Noga, and all hired hands in yellow are seen slowly organizing, checking in with each other and investigating a curiously locked door. Red-clad workers appear somewhat in alignment with the red-dressed boss man and are accordingly responsible for stopping entrance to the other side of the factory, given the authority to lock up. As art reflects life, collective action will liberate all workers, even these class traitors ... {On the other side of the door} Dressed in green and bearing eerie resemblance to their counterparts in yellow, these workers are seen dismantling the boxes — tearing them open and emptying out pack peanuts and shuttlecocks into bins as methodically as they were placed in. These few quick frames reveal the futility of their labor ... As soon as the green team is unveiled, it’s GO time.

Through a flurry of packing peanuts and physical comedy, the workers band together to destroy the factory ... The traffic light uniforms give way to disco looks in shimmering glitter and iridescent shades as they convert the warehouse into a bumping club for their victory dance party. Bushwick, am I right?!!
Our heroes’ sparkle-forward attire is not merely befitting a party, but spells the new age of abundance where enforced scarcity once was. Our ringleader Margot serves us dimensional shimmer — wearing colorblocked, metallic teal with a bejeweled vest and topped off with a suede brown trench. Nothing but respect for my Enjolras!!! Something about a trench makes the wearer look conspiratorial and empowered. In her duster-length jacket, our heroine looks and feels taller, even stunting in the overthrown boss’s throne. Her comrade-in-arms, Noga, dons a chic, black, sequined maxi-dress, because there’s no pressure to move efficiently no mo’. Her ensemble is topped off with dangling, shuttlecock earrings — Can you say seize the means of production?!!!”

“ The costume designer, Matsy Stinson, had her work cut out for her, as the script is largely silent regarding the location of the play and the social strata of the characters; nevertheless, her work feels thoroughly plausible.”

“Providing elements of added realism, Matsy Stinson designed the costumes...”

“Great historical costumes by designer Matsy Stinson, and wig design by Peter Fogel, combined with Audrey Vuong’s clever set design, helps to transport us to a different era.”

“[the character] Fountain’s ‘Clean Water Saves Lives’ vest epitomizes the theme of Exquisite Corpse Company’s performance. ”

“Our story begins in familiarity, three witches on a heath, there to meet with Macbeth. The presentation, even as early as this, is fresh and distinctive. The titular weird sisters are not haggard warty crones in pointed black hats. They are dressed in earthen robes suggesting authentic paganism, rather than the Judeo-Christian demonization of empowered womanhood that we are used to. ... When a show like The Sisters comes along, Shakespeare feels right again.”

“Comprised of an extremely somber aesthetic, emphasized not only by the pitch-black element, but also by the gorgeous muted color palette...The creature presented here is also understated and features a nice, subtle style that really works within the more “realistic” tone of the piece. ”

“Costumes by Matsy Stinson add to the fantasy, especially the get-ups for that mermaid chorus — love the hat covered in toothbrushes! ”

“A Ribbon About A Bomb is true to its name, a beautiful design wrapped around an explosive core...Leonora Carrington’s dress, by Matsy Stinson, fills the entire room (it’s made from 50 feet of fabric) and is another of many striking visuals.”

“O’Leary’s barking-mad Carrington invites us to a confab under her skirts, literally — her comically huge dress lifts like a circus tent. ”

“We treat ourselves to the mysterious and the mystical, and our journey into Amy’s story is fabulously highlighted...coming from someone who currently works in fashion, we get to OBSESS over Matsy Stinson’s on point, in-the-know, and impeccable outfit choices for Amy, Katherine, and Bianca especially. So much joy comes from these little details...Bianca has cascading curves of beach-ready, blonde hair. Amy hides her head underneath a sparkly snapback, her awkwardly chopped hair tied in pigtails. Bianca, returning from a summer in LA where she lost her virginity and most of her naiveté, is trying to get her unpopular, try-hard friend to put in even more effort into losing weight, making the dance team, and getting some action.”

“The opera was updated by director John de Los Santos to 1950s Venice...to show off some dapper vintage suits, worn by the cast and chorus. Indeed, without the music, this snazzy Otello would have worked well as a Bushwick fashion show.”

“...a sneering chorus in chic 1950s cocktail party garb.”