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Nov. 1st, 2009 10:32 am
Beltane It Out On Opening Night
Daylight: what's that again? The bright stuff that makes my eyes hurt? I thought that was a strobe. Anyway, busy couple of days Under the Blue Moon; specifically, the opening night of the Theatre of Blood followed by the All Hallows Eve Ball.
Opening night sold out, which is encouraging. So, so delightful to lurk behind the curtain once again, listening to the sound of the theatre filling up! Never got much of a look at the audience - David assures me that a significant number were wearing fangs - but could certainly hear them! They started laughing during "Dr. Mortiss's" introductory speech - yes, that was a good thing - and throughout the plays they were there, buzzing, hissing, gasping, laughing at all the right things and a few that were wrong. We bathe in that, you know, up there on the stage. We drink it.
Had you been there, you would have seen a fair amount of me, especially if you sort blacks well and were watching during set changes. I received an emergency promotion to Assistant Stage Manager midway through last week. I love our set; the gorgeous work of Anna Gardiner, with all its little nooks and crannies. But in any case, here it is:
With a little of me, the Curator of the Daumier Wax Museum in The Guillotine.
And the much more hospitable Madame Rivoire of At The Telephone.
I'm going to state this: you will see more graphic and plentiful displays of human suffering on your average after-nine police procedural. This is because they can cut. We are about the presentation. The artistry. The build-up. Not knowing quite what we will prove capable of when - which is why I'm not showing you the pictures I have of Orgy in the Lighthouse. In any case, as the Reverend Mortiss says, "today's villians are merely the apprentices of those that came before." Overall, the show went very well. A broken Virgin here, a misplaced guillotine there, a messy incident with the turkey baster, but nothing to get in the way of the experience. Director says we could be tighter and guillotine must remain immobile, but during the All Hallow's Eve Ball I was accosted by some complete strangers who said they saw the show and loved it, and that I was the most evil thing there, so I'm happy. From this you may gather that my look at the Ball was not dissimilar. The difference is that at the Ball, you would only see anything if you were good at sorting blacks and withstanding strobes.
There was a lot to see. Alternating more or less at random between the main stage and the Dungeon, we took in the Horrorwood Mannequins, parts of the fashion show, Celia Curtis and her Bed of Nails, Lola the Vamp, Juke Baritone, a number of friends, some decent DJs, GPKism and the usual on the A-frame. Kudos to the lead singer of the Mannequins, who leapt onstage wearing a Jack Skellington mask and opened their otherwise deathpunk set with "This is Halloween". And what could be more exhilerating than Juke Baritone's performance I've no idea! I mean, the crowd covered a lot of ground; cybergoth, full-on eighteenth century with masks, 1950s gone rotten, zombie make-up, street bondage, ropework, medical fetish, actual wheelchair, witch, fairy, spiderman and that guy with the knife stuck through his head (how the few mundies were coping I've no idea. Steph said this event had also sold out, so they must have known). And they were ALL pounding the stage edge and then vaulting up and dancing to a group of wonderfully hirsuite fellows wielding accordian, banjo and saxaphone, as well as guitar and drums. This might give you just the slightest taste:
At one point, Jukebox crooned to the skull of his ex-wife, "why don't you love me any more?" But there was just this energy, you know? Dancing with my darling in the Dungeon, oh yes.
It was nice of the organisers to turn on the chill wind and the nearly full moon! Actually, celebrating Beltane under the guise of Halloween works well for me. So, anti-season's greeting, my darkling sorority. Our season runs till Christmas interrupts everything good, so I look forward to not-actually-seeing-you soon!
Brunch now.
Opening night sold out, which is encouraging. So, so delightful to lurk behind the curtain once again, listening to the sound of the theatre filling up! Never got much of a look at the audience - David assures me that a significant number were wearing fangs - but could certainly hear them! They started laughing during "Dr. Mortiss's" introductory speech - yes, that was a good thing - and throughout the plays they were there, buzzing, hissing, gasping, laughing at all the right things and a few that were wrong. We bathe in that, you know, up there on the stage. We drink it.
Had you been there, you would have seen a fair amount of me, especially if you sort blacks well and were watching during set changes. I received an emergency promotion to Assistant Stage Manager midway through last week. I love our set; the gorgeous work of Anna Gardiner, with all its little nooks and crannies. But in any case, here it is:
 |
| From Misc |
With a little of me, the Curator of the Daumier Wax Museum in The Guillotine.
 |
| From Misc |
And the much more hospitable Madame Rivoire of At The Telephone.
I'm going to state this: you will see more graphic and plentiful displays of human suffering on your average after-nine police procedural. This is because they can cut. We are about the presentation. The artistry. The build-up. Not knowing quite what we will prove capable of when - which is why I'm not showing you the pictures I have of Orgy in the Lighthouse. In any case, as the Reverend Mortiss says, "today's villians are merely the apprentices of those that came before." Overall, the show went very well. A broken Virgin here, a misplaced guillotine there, a messy incident with the turkey baster, but nothing to get in the way of the experience. Director says we could be tighter and guillotine must remain immobile, but during the All Hallow's Eve Ball I was accosted by some complete strangers who said they saw the show and loved it, and that I was the most evil thing there, so I'm happy. From this you may gather that my look at the Ball was not dissimilar. The difference is that at the Ball, you would only see anything if you were good at sorting blacks and withstanding strobes.
There was a lot to see. Alternating more or less at random between the main stage and the Dungeon, we took in the Horrorwood Mannequins, parts of the fashion show, Celia Curtis and her Bed of Nails, Lola the Vamp, Juke Baritone, a number of friends, some decent DJs, GPKism and the usual on the A-frame. Kudos to the lead singer of the Mannequins, who leapt onstage wearing a Jack Skellington mask and opened their otherwise deathpunk set with "This is Halloween". And what could be more exhilerating than Juke Baritone's performance I've no idea! I mean, the crowd covered a lot of ground; cybergoth, full-on eighteenth century with masks, 1950s gone rotten, zombie make-up, street bondage, ropework, medical fetish, actual wheelchair, witch, fairy, spiderman and that guy with the knife stuck through his head (how the few mundies were coping I've no idea. Steph said this event had also sold out, so they must have known). And they were ALL pounding the stage edge and then vaulting up and dancing to a group of wonderfully hirsuite fellows wielding accordian, banjo and saxaphone, as well as guitar and drums. This might give you just the slightest taste:
 |
| From Misc |
At one point, Jukebox crooned to the skull of his ex-wife, "why don't you love me any more?" But there was just this energy, you know? Dancing with my darling in the Dungeon, oh yes.
It was nice of the organisers to turn on the chill wind and the nearly full moon! Actually, celebrating Beltane under the guise of Halloween works well for me. So, anti-season's greeting, my darkling sorority. Our season runs till Christmas interrupts everything good, so I look forward to not-actually-seeing-you soon!
Brunch now.
