And now the show is over once more...*
Yeehaah, here I am again, after a week of exitement, to whit, watching the arrival of Spring, going to Berlin, seeing an almost perfect Don Giovanni with decadent ticket prices, meeting up with my Favourite Musical People ever, rehearsing and performing and partying The Musical in Germany's coldest city, and now I'm back on my homely internet and want to spam my diary and my friends with pics and clips from my new cheapo digitoy, but woe, alas and all that - can't find the bloody cable thing. Möööp. I need to unload! Not only to archive the stuff and try my hand at editing video clips, but also to make room for all the Zürich goodness that is to come.
No idea where the thing's gone. Watch this space for exciting material like the Choreographed Marzahn Matchbox Cars, or Dudamel Picking Up Bunch of Flowers.
Well. Don Giovanni had a clichéd but hot long leather coat. He also delivered a beautiful Deh vieni alla finestra. Everyone but Zerlina, Massetto and the party people was wearing black. There was a show-stealing vespa. The Commendatore's statue looked like a toy astronaut. I was worried all through Act 2 because I couldn't find my glasses. Which had lodged themselves in a weird angle in their case. Bec and I had a great time, overpriced drinks and all. Oh yeah, and conducting was this obscure young bloke from Venezuela who sold out the run and made some girls shriek. ;-)
The musical felt like a short holiday trip to a wonderful parallel universe full of beautiful music and beautiful people whose shiney shine rubbed off on me a little. I just wish I could do things like this more often. Theatre. Being the nice musical uitility person. Making people feel good, helping out, organising little things. Being on stage even when it's just for turning pages with your back to the audience. Living each bit of the whow caos you know it inside out. Having a meal and adrink and a laugh at all the little mishaps afterwards. I don't need to be a star and God knows I don't want to be a boss. But just this, or a little more of this, preferably with more time spent playing the piano... Write your new piece already, Mr. C. Or, get famous, my Little Acting Lady Dearie, and hire me as your personal find-the-notes coach.
Also, wonderful hotel, with decadent amounts and varieties of breakfast. I used to not like hotels at all, and I'd still never stay in one on a holiday if I could avoid it. But if somebody else pays for it and you sorta own the place with your big crazy crew - hotel, here I come. There's nothing better.
And now back to my usual life. Don't feel like going to work tomorrow. Would prefer to sleep in and dream of happy musical sheep. Well at least it's Official Piano Inauguration tomorrow, so I get to treat the senior citizens to some Mozart and Debussy.
*Well it might actully go on in summer, but then we'd have to have a new cast. I want my Diva and Dearie.
Good night for now. Coming up: Work, work and some work, and then yay hooray Zer Beautiful South!
P.S.: Those things are called yappities? Why?? They don't look nuthin' like me.... Well at least the first three or so pages of the google hitlist don't point at me. Fair enough, then.
No idea where the thing's gone. Watch this space for exciting material like the Choreographed Marzahn Matchbox Cars, or Dudamel Picking Up Bunch of Flowers.
Well. Don Giovanni had a clichéd but hot long leather coat. He also delivered a beautiful Deh vieni alla finestra. Everyone but Zerlina, Massetto and the party people was wearing black. There was a show-stealing vespa. The Commendatore's statue looked like a toy astronaut. I was worried all through Act 2 because I couldn't find my glasses. Which had lodged themselves in a weird angle in their case. Bec and I had a great time, overpriced drinks and all. Oh yeah, and conducting was this obscure young bloke from Venezuela who sold out the run and made some girls shriek. ;-)
The musical felt like a short holiday trip to a wonderful parallel universe full of beautiful music and beautiful people whose shiney shine rubbed off on me a little. I just wish I could do things like this more often. Theatre. Being the nice musical uitility person. Making people feel good, helping out, organising little things. Being on stage even when it's just for turning pages with your back to the audience. Living each bit of the whow caos you know it inside out. Having a meal and adrink and a laugh at all the little mishaps afterwards. I don't need to be a star and God knows I don't want to be a boss. But just this, or a little more of this, preferably with more time spent playing the piano... Write your new piece already, Mr. C. Or, get famous, my Little Acting Lady Dearie, and hire me as your personal find-the-notes coach.
Also, wonderful hotel, with decadent amounts and varieties of breakfast. I used to not like hotels at all, and I'd still never stay in one on a holiday if I could avoid it. But if somebody else pays for it and you sorta own the place with your big crazy crew - hotel, here I come. There's nothing better.
And now back to my usual life. Don't feel like going to work tomorrow. Would prefer to sleep in and dream of happy musical sheep. Well at least it's Official Piano Inauguration tomorrow, so I get to treat the senior citizens to some Mozart and Debussy.
*Well it might actully go on in summer, but then we'd have to have a new cast. I want my Diva and Dearie.
Good night for now. Coming up: Work, work and some work, and then yay hooray Zer Beautiful South!
P.S.: Those things are called yappities? Why?? They don't look nuthin' like me.... Well at least the first three or so pages of the google hitlist don't point at me. Fair enough, then.
