The Fringe Binge
Izzie is in a strange place. Just finished on Friday the last page of a camel leather journal with a rose quartz stone inset on the cover and hand made paper on the inside. Gorgeous but not friendly to emerald ink or quick quotes quills. It was like writing on quicksand
It was our last day of the fringe binge. The actual festival finished on Sunday but due to work commitments, Friday was our last day of festivities
All those plays and cabaret shows meant that visits to Cyberia were far and few between and most squiggling got done offline in the leather note book. But now there is just over a whole week between it and the serpent’s very sacred day of Wednesday 29th February. This day is worthy of the first page in a bright shiny new notebook preferably at Cottesloe Beach while listening to This Mortal Coil’s “Song to the Siren” at sunset and reminiscing about the last Wednesday 29th February way back in 1984
So this week will be hopefully devoted to catching up in Cyberia. The last few weeks have been a total sensory overload, so much so that the Izzie was sometimes almost psycho.
Just a quick count, must have been 16 or so shows in the space of 21 days. Four of those were booked in advance and the rest were last minute cheap tickets.
With this particular festival the locations were as much a star attraction in their own right as the shows. Izzie is a strange creature with an unusual habit of adopting what we call ‘sacred sites’ for want of a better word. It turns out that the old treasury buildings were very high on the list. This serpent would even go to see George Bush or John Howard if they were to make an appearance in such a place. Lucky that most of the performers turned out to be of a much much higher standard than those two
It turned out that the first very much anticipated event got ruined due to the nasty 42 celsius sizzling stinker of a day. Returned the following Monday not to attend a show but to just lurk and linger in the Treasure Chest and absorb the magical aura of this historical location. Monday nights are very quiet in downtown Dursleyville and it was wonderful just sitting around on the old crates sipping a glass of Solo with ice and reading “Chamber of Secrets”. The wines were far too decadent in price to indulge. But we would save such indulgences for the very last week
Ended up not enjoying some very good shows due to irrational panic attacks and sensory overload or just plain sizzling stinking hot horrid days.
Sometimes would just go to the kitschy box office caravan and book a show based less on the content and more on the location. After three or four shows in the Treasury Cabaret, got the craving to visit the old postal hall which was the original post office and the point from which all distances in Dursleyville are measured.
Just walking down the very long labyrinthine entrance past corridors and strange halls plastered with fringe posters and mysterious passageways was an adventure in itself. The show “This is what we do for a living” was good too as was the chance to snoop and slink a bit later. Decided not to do the mad rush for the bus at 10.15 but to lurk and linger and soak up the spookiness
Was back in the same place on Friday for two shows with wonderful titles “She dances in the dark” and “City of Shadows”
The latter starred Rachael Dease - a local version of Lisa Gerrard and a sort of chamber orchestra with spooky strings. It was based on pictures of crime scenes and suspects from Sydney in the 1920s. The music was ethereal, spooky and beautiful but there did not seem to be any story or structure. Seen some of the pictures before in an exhibition about femme fatales at the turn of the century. Some of the scenes seemed suspiciously reminiscent of the old treasury itself with bodies on stair cases or in corridors and elegant archways. Was strategically located near a doorway bearing the script “Newspaper House” and an archway hiding a few desks and cubicles.
They were a bit over the top with all the bodies and mug shots. Every single one of those pictures could be the basis for a fascinating story but there were so many that it was serious sensory overload. Particularly fascinating were all those 1920s car crash scenes with the ancient vehicles
The one thing missing from the festival was a ghost tour, spooky stories tale of these amazing old buildings and goblin lurking grounds. Turned out there was some such thing in the south west wing which had sold out ages ago. It was called Pollyanna. Not a happy clappy story as you would think from the title but a story of a girl murdered at her birthday party and all the audience got to play detective wandering from room to room deep in the heart of goblin territory
But the two best shows of all turned out not to be on the goblins territory at all. One was in the Spiegeltent which is an amazing relic from the 1920s. Izzie just loves art deco kitsch. It was Bunga bunga Burlesqueconi starring three drag queens and a Sylvio Berlesconi impersonator with an uncanny resemblance to Paul Keating.
There was another crap show there last Monday called “Glamazonian” Normal price was $25 which was the same as BBB. Izzie got cheap tix for $15. But it was worth it just to get our nose inside this amazing glamorous tent.
Next time the serpent slinks about in the city, the old treasury buildings will be off limits. Will not be able to sit there and sip a plastic glass of Vinacious “Snake Charmer” Shiraz and offer ickle Wormtail a sip like last Wednesday.
There is still the yuppie festival gardens done up in Steam punk style. But that is a tale for another day
It was our last day of the fringe binge. The actual festival finished on Sunday but due to work commitments, Friday was our last day of festivities
All those plays and cabaret shows meant that visits to Cyberia were far and few between and most squiggling got done offline in the leather note book. But now there is just over a whole week between it and the serpent’s very sacred day of Wednesday 29th February. This day is worthy of the first page in a bright shiny new notebook preferably at Cottesloe Beach while listening to This Mortal Coil’s “Song to the Siren” at sunset and reminiscing about the last Wednesday 29th February way back in 1984
So this week will be hopefully devoted to catching up in Cyberia. The last few weeks have been a total sensory overload, so much so that the Izzie was sometimes almost psycho.
Just a quick count, must have been 16 or so shows in the space of 21 days. Four of those were booked in advance and the rest were last minute cheap tickets.
With this particular festival the locations were as much a star attraction in their own right as the shows. Izzie is a strange creature with an unusual habit of adopting what we call ‘sacred sites’ for want of a better word. It turns out that the old treasury buildings were very high on the list. This serpent would even go to see George Bush or John Howard if they were to make an appearance in such a place. Lucky that most of the performers turned out to be of a much much higher standard than those two
It turned out that the first very much anticipated event got ruined due to the nasty 42 celsius sizzling stinker of a day. Returned the following Monday not to attend a show but to just lurk and linger in the Treasure Chest and absorb the magical aura of this historical location. Monday nights are very quiet in downtown Dursleyville and it was wonderful just sitting around on the old crates sipping a glass of Solo with ice and reading “Chamber of Secrets”. The wines were far too decadent in price to indulge. But we would save such indulgences for the very last week
Ended up not enjoying some very good shows due to irrational panic attacks and sensory overload or just plain sizzling stinking hot horrid days.
Sometimes would just go to the kitschy box office caravan and book a show based less on the content and more on the location. After three or four shows in the Treasury Cabaret, got the craving to visit the old postal hall which was the original post office and the point from which all distances in Dursleyville are measured.
Just walking down the very long labyrinthine entrance past corridors and strange halls plastered with fringe posters and mysterious passageways was an adventure in itself. The show “This is what we do for a living” was good too as was the chance to snoop and slink a bit later. Decided not to do the mad rush for the bus at 10.15 but to lurk and linger and soak up the spookiness
Was back in the same place on Friday for two shows with wonderful titles “She dances in the dark” and “City of Shadows”
The latter starred Rachael Dease - a local version of Lisa Gerrard and a sort of chamber orchestra with spooky strings. It was based on pictures of crime scenes and suspects from Sydney in the 1920s. The music was ethereal, spooky and beautiful but there did not seem to be any story or structure. Seen some of the pictures before in an exhibition about femme fatales at the turn of the century. Some of the scenes seemed suspiciously reminiscent of the old treasury itself with bodies on stair cases or in corridors and elegant archways. Was strategically located near a doorway bearing the script “Newspaper House” and an archway hiding a few desks and cubicles.
They were a bit over the top with all the bodies and mug shots. Every single one of those pictures could be the basis for a fascinating story but there were so many that it was serious sensory overload. Particularly fascinating were all those 1920s car crash scenes with the ancient vehicles
The one thing missing from the festival was a ghost tour, spooky stories tale of these amazing old buildings and goblin lurking grounds. Turned out there was some such thing in the south west wing which had sold out ages ago. It was called Pollyanna. Not a happy clappy story as you would think from the title but a story of a girl murdered at her birthday party and all the audience got to play detective wandering from room to room deep in the heart of goblin territory
But the two best shows of all turned out not to be on the goblins territory at all. One was in the Spiegeltent which is an amazing relic from the 1920s. Izzie just loves art deco kitsch. It was Bunga bunga Burlesqueconi starring three drag queens and a Sylvio Berlesconi impersonator with an uncanny resemblance to Paul Keating.
There was another crap show there last Monday called “Glamazonian” Normal price was $25 which was the same as BBB. Izzie got cheap tix for $15. But it was worth it just to get our nose inside this amazing glamorous tent.
Next time the serpent slinks about in the city, the old treasury buildings will be off limits. Will not be able to sit there and sip a plastic glass of Vinacious “Snake Charmer” Shiraz and offer ickle Wormtail a sip like last Wednesday.
There is still the yuppie festival gardens done up in Steam punk style. But that is a tale for another day