Meet the Dresser

If Broadway theatergoers are even aware that there is such a profession as a “dresser,” it’s probably thanks to Ronald Harwood, who turned his experiences as actor-manager Donald Wolfit’s factotum during the 1950s into an attention-getting 1980 play called The Dresser (later an Oscar-winning film). Or maybe it’s because of Birdie Coonan, the tart-tongued character played by Thelma Ritter in All About Eve.

But real-life dressers abound on Broadway, and it’s far from a glamorous job. These people work arduously in obscurity for a union rate (Local 764 in Manhattan) of $92 per show. Take Hector Lugo, an open-faced, voluble guy who began his career as a dresser in 2000 when he joined the backstage gang at The Phantom of the Opera. He has labored there ever since, with only a brief break to work on the Roundabout’s revival of Follies. Lugo had been on staff in Phantom producer Cameron Mackintosh’s Manhattan office before financial belts were tightened there. When a pal of his, wardrobe supervisor Rory Powers, offered him a replacement position as a dresser, he jumped at the chance.

“In wardrobe, there’s flexibility to pursue your other career,” says Lugo, a performance artist who occasionally shows up on various stages as alter ego La Contessa. “And you can make a living as a dresser, especially with a long run. It’s as secure a gig as you’re ever going to get in New York theater.” To help him make that living, Lugo also does some “steaming and prepping and sewing” — duties that not every dresser takes on — for which he is paid an additional $26 an hour.

Having never worked as a dresser before Phantom, Lugo got his training on the job. “When I started, they had me sub,” he says. “I would go in and make notes, following a dresser while he did his job. They’re very detailed; they say things like ‘put gloves on chair,” “move shoes to right,’ and ‘put water bottle on floor.’ It’s all choreographed. It can drive you crazy at the beginning, because you’re thinking, ‘Why do I have to move this shoe over here?’ But if you don’t move the shoe, the actor walks by and kicks it, and there it goes!”

At this point, Lugo dresses four of the women in the ensemble and assists on one other change, following what he and his colleagues know as “tracks.” He explains that, “Backstage, everything is tracked from point A to point B to point C, like a train line. Your track is your physical movement backstage. You do a pre-set of a costume, and you know you then have to dress an actor for a quick change stage right. Then you have to help with a quick change stage left, and then you may have another change in the basement. We create areas in the theater where people can go to with a minimum of fuss.”

Lugo says that the show has approximately 250 costumes to be reckoned with, eight performances a week. “I work on about 150 of those,” he reports. “For example, today, I worked on all the ladies’ costumes stage left. I sewed. I steamed. Snaps get loose, zippers sometimes get a little torn. There are always beads to be repaired, especially on the ‘Hannibal’ dresses; the beads pop off because the dancers are rolling on the floor.”

Typically, dressers are very much appreciated by cast members, who often show that appreciation with something more than a hearty thank you. “Tipping is at the discretion of the actor,” he says. “Some will tip every six months, some tip every week, and some never tip at all. Most of the actors I work with are generous. You’re their confidant, their psychiatrist.” What about the intramural sentiment among his 16 fellow dressers? “There’s no competition,” he says, “because there’s really nowhere to go. Dressing is just dressing. You could become a wardrobe supervisor, after first working as an assistant supervisor. But I’d have to leave Phantom to do that, because I’d have to assist someone on a new show.”

There are decided drawbacks to his work, Lugo concedes: “You pick up dirty tights, sweaty socks. It’s a humbling experience. In a long-running show like Phantom, you can get complacent about your own career, especially if you’re an actor or performer; you get used to the hours, and you stop going to auditions. In the end, you must remember that there’s more to life than Phantom. Don’t give up on pursuing your goals just because you’ve got a paying gig.”