
A blowtorch is used to burn away pile on the fabric, creating
a threadbare look. This also can be used to create very heavy
distressing, such as disintegration. |
When the villagers of Anatevka sing of tradition and struggle in
the Broadway revival of Fiddler on the Roof, their new
clothes mold to their bodies, showing the natural scuffs and damage
of garments worn for many years. Before designer Vicki Mortimer’s
costumes were built, river stones were used to weigh down the heavy
wool fabrics worn by Alfred Molina’s Tevye as well as most
of the other characters. Fabrics have been washed and dyed to make
them look worn.
Martin Izquierdo is the man responsible for distressing these costumes
(the process of aging and breaking down the fabric to make new clothes
look well-worn and authentic). After more than 20 years of costume
distressing, Izquierdo has worked on outfits and accessories for
numerous theatrical productions and films in New York. When he begins
the distressing procedure, Izquierdo receives a description of all
the characters in a production and the history of each. He works
directly with the designer to ensure that aging the costumes coincides
with every aspect of the production, from the character’s
profession to the lighting in each scene.
“In Fiddler on the Roof, there is a class system,”
he says. “Their level in society determines the breakdown
of their clothes. Lazar Wolf, the butcher, has more money, so his
clothes will be in better shape. Tevye is poor and has done more
physical labor. His clothes must show that.”
Tracy Christensen, the New York design assistant for the show, explains
the extra steps she and Izquierdo took to make the costumes look
successfully aged. Before they made the clothes, they washed the
fabric, even the wool. “It’s kind of unusual,”
she concedes. “Normally you never wash wool first. We started
the process of worrying the fabric [breaking it down] by washing
it ahead of time. This takes all of the shrinkage out of it, leaving
it in a totally open state.”
Izquierdo uses prongs to snag the fabric. Distressing should reflect
the extra physical strains of a character’s physicality, occupation
and lifestyle. “When you wear clothes all the time, they become
a part of you,” says Christensen. Distressing cuts out the
time and produces effective results. It’s especially important
for this musical because, “Essentially everyone has only one
costume because it’s a poor town and they need to look realistically
worn without looking like a pile of rags,” she adds. So why
not just use naturally worn-out garments? Equity rules state that
principal actors must wear new clothes.
Just about every kind of theatrical production, movie, TV show and
print ad involves costume distressing or breakdown. Film distressing
involves a more subtle look than theater, as the camera is much
closer than the stage and will easily pick up the flaws in a fabric.
“Teching down and doing a rinse on something to take the white
and bright edge off of it is important for movies,” says Izquierdo.
Edwina Pellikka, owner of A Dyeing Art in Los Angeles, clarifies
the difference: “Breakdown involves taking the ‘newness’
out of a garment, to wash down and fade the fabric so it looks like
your favorite sweatshirt. Distressing involves huge changes in a
costume’s appearance—the result of time and physical
stress on the garment.”
“Breakdown is just so the clothes look like they’re
worn,” says Izquierdo. “It’s easier, so most people
can do it themselves by throwing them in the dryer with tennis shoes,
which breaks down and softens the fibers.”

The paint sample bible
keeps track of the color palette approved by the designer and
director, as well as the effect of different paints and bleach
on fabric swatches. This bible is being used for the current
Broadway revival of Fiddler on the Roof. |
The only rule of using objects to distress costumes is that there
are no rules. Wood, cheese graters and wire brushes are good for
snagging fabrics, according to Tim Blacker, purchasing manager at
Barbara Matera Limited, the New York City-based costume shop that
constructed the costumes for Fiddler on the Roof. He worked
with Izquierdo to paint and dye the fabrics.
Izquierdo does a lot of distressing for print fashion shoots and
is often asked to distress denim. He uses sandpaper on denim jeans
to make it look as though the models have worn them for years. “Stages
of washing, sanding, rewashing, using chemicals to break down clothes,
can vary anywhere,” he says.
Pellikka also uses sandpaper as well as tile and a saw rasp to distress
fabric. The process can take anywhere from several hours to several
days, depending on the garment and fabric. Leather coats take longest
(about two days) and jeans take about a day, according to Pellikka.
According to Izquierdo, the process of costume distressing really
depends on the item of clothing or accessory and how much distressing
it needs. The whole procedure, from the washing and drying to the
dyeing and the scuffing, varies from piece to piece.
“There’s bad-guy gray and good-guy gray,” says
Pellikka. “The difference is subtle.” Her 4,000-square-foot
factory contains steam-heated dryers that can hold up to 50 yards
of fabric, and dye vats that can hold 100 yards of fabric. Print
tables, a dye lab and large washers and dryers allow Pellikka to
do the base work on large amounts of material at a time. A 6x6-foot
airbrush booth holds alcohol-based dyes, which Pellikka says are
essential. “Alcohol can be dry-cleaned,” she adds. “Water-based
dyes are there for life.”
Pellikka has operated her business out of Glendale, California,
for the last 20 years and estimates that about 25 percent of her
job includes distressing costumes. She works with just about every
major film studio, as well as the Los Angeles Opera, Mark Taper
Forum and the Ahmanson Theater.
“You have to be an artist and figure out the actors’
anatomies,” she says. “Where do they lean? Where do
they sweat?” To do this, Pellikka usually attends several
tech rehearsals to see the actors performing under the lights, so
she can see how to properly age the fabrics.
For Fiddler, everything has been prewashed and dyed, so
that nothing is really the same color as when it was bought. Although
audiences may never understand the amount of time spent making each
jacket, shoe and babushka look authentic, the reward lies in a presentation
that looks realistic.
Erin Auerbach is a freelance
writer based in Los Angeles. She writes features and reviews for
Back Stage West, BackStage.com, LA Stage magazine and the
Press-Enterprise.
All photography courtesy of the
Martin Izquierdo Studio
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