The Re-Cap (Patreon)

This is a long shot.

Allow me to summarize the main plot points:

• I’m attempting to pull together a solo act for this fancy Zurich dinner cabaret that happens end of September, through October
• It’s currently  the beginning of August: I am building the act and rehearsing through the month of August 
• I have to film the act at the end of the month to send to the producer in Europe as a pitch
• If he says “YES”, then me and this crazy Barbette act will be going to Zurich a few short weeks following that
• If he says, "nah, thanks" then – well – I tell my European agent to start shopping around the amazing thing that I’ve made to whoever else will have it, damn it, because it’s going to be good.

I’ve called in the troops:
I’ve asked Marika Kutnahorsky (the driving force behind Kink Engineering, and the VACUUM apparatus tower) to work with me on the project and she’s excitedly been going over draft after draft of the latex elements of the costume required for my harebrained scheme. She’s beginning to draft pieces for me early this week (August 8th).

I’ve asked Roberto Campanella (the man who made sure I didn’t fall on my face at Cirque de Demain, or France’s Got Talent, or in China, or or or …) to come on board and he’s agreed. He’s not available until the 2nd week of August (this week), so I was on my own for the first week in studio, pulling together trick sequences and transition ideas and bouncing questions off him remotely until now.

I’ve asked Michael Slack, a Montréal costume designer I briefly worked with on one of my early Canada Council for the Arts grants, to consult with me as to how to make the best, most epic 1920s showgirl recreation costume I can. He’s doing me one better and bringing in his own troops. “Marianne Thibeault is available!” Michael told me excitedly over the phone. “Do you know her?” I did not, I told him. “Oh, she was Dominique Dubé’s right-hand woman!” I sheepishly admitted, once again, that I’m unfamiliar with this second name as well. “She did all of Cirque’s costumes, her studio did all these costumes.” OH. “You know the green feather coat from Zumanity?” he continued. Yes, I answer. “Marianne made that.” OHHH.

I’ve begged, borrowed, and stolen studio space from peers around the city to rehearse in during off-hours, or for volume-discounted rates (for those of you unfamiliar with the atrocity that is Toronto’s rehearsal space availability, an average hourly rate for a decent sized dance studio is roughly $50/hour. You can find spaces for $35/hour, maybe even slightly less, but those are few and far between. It adds up quick. There’s a reason why you don’t see big group circus acts coming out of Toronto often: it’s almost always too expensive to even bother dreaming about).

I've called up the composer who worked with me for all the same projects as Roberto to help me concoct something that serves as the right window into the past for this act, while still grounding us in the present (Greg Harrison).

There’s the slimmest chance that this just might work.

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This week, your instalments revolve around the start of the musical deliberations for this act. To be continued...