One of Australia's Few Wigmakers Trains the Next Generation

With a needle, strands of human hair, and weeks of painstaking work, Rebecca Bank creates transformations that most audience members never notice.

As head of wigs and makeup for West Australian Ballet, Bank is one of just a handful of professional theatrical wigmakers in the entire state. She handcrafts headpieces that turn modern dancers into 18th-century aristocrats or menacing villains, spending up to eight hours a day hunched over tiny mesh, knotting individual hairs into place.

"If you do it well, people don't know there's a wig on," Bank said.

Each custom wig takes weeks to complete. Bank starts by molding a dancer's head, padding it with cork and netting, then begins the delicate knotting process. Made from human hair, each finished piece costs about $5,000.

The physical demands are intense. Bank sits in a specific position for hours to see the microscopic mesh clearly enough to thread hair through it. Unlike film wigmakers who have plenty of prep time, she also faces a unique challenge: her creations must stay secure during quick costume changes, sometimes with less than two minutes between scenes.

"The dancers have to feel confident when they're on stage, so they can't feel like the wig is loose in any way," she explained.

Bank's journey to this niche profession started with childhood dreams of ballet and theatre. She trained in Germany because Australia offered almost no opportunities to learn the craft professionally.

The Ripple Effect

That scarcity is changing. This February, Perth's North Metropolitan TAFE launched Western Australia's first comprehensive course in wig making, costume, and theatrical makeup. Eighteen young creatives are now learning to construct everything from period wigs to yak-hair mustaches.

Lecturer Delia Stanley sees the timing as perfect. With new film studios opening in Perth, demand for these specialized skills is growing. Rather than importing talent from Australia's east coast, Western Australia can now train its own theatrical artists.

For Bank, watching students master techniques she once traveled halfway around the world to learn brings deep satisfaction. She's passionate about preserving knowledge that could easily vanish if not passed down deliberately.

"It's such a joy to be able to pass those skills on to other people and know that there's this new generation coming through," Stanley said.

The invisible art of wig making will continue transforming performers on Australian stages for years to come.