#proscenium

[operafantomet]

I... will never get over the cancelled Paris production. SO CLOSE, and yet so far. And one of my favourite proscenium set-ups ever.

[ongakunotenshi]

The Proscenium & Chandelier in Phantom of the Opera

[bwwfourhumorsau]

so what do the other guys around there do?

"Hey! I have other things I do! I just don't like giving that information to all of you!"

"Mhm."

(ooc: hi, I've returned.)

[faded-florals]

Proscenium, The Phantom of the Opera

Broadway (September 15th, 2022)

[merlinray]

[elysiuminfra]

explaining something

[renatomorselli]

BOCCASCENA / proscenium da Renato Morselli Tramite Flickr: #portal #FlickrFriday Teatro Comunale di Bologna

[carnegiescenic]

"Nick working hard on the proscenium"

[notbecauseofvictories]

So I watched Office Space (1999) tonight and honestly? Twenty-five years later, its take on what makes corporate drone life so horrible is sort of quaint. As though the height of corporate fuckery is uniforms, vacuous repetitive tasks, depriving you of a view, and subjecting you to the absurd, arbitrary whims of middle managers.

Quite frankly, that’s just a random Monday.

Comedy Central’s Corporate (2018-2020) is much more accurate---it taps into the sense that, in exchange for a steady paycheck, you buy into an enormous churning machine that grinds you down even as it takes huge bites out of the rest of the world. You can do nothing to stop this machine, just hope that you  wring some sense of meaning from it before it swallows you whole. Or even Apple’s Severance---which is about what someone else, someone you don’t know and will never know, agreed to on your behalf. There is no escaping from it or winning at it, no matter how many squeeze-balls or cozies they offer you. (What would “winning” even look like? You can’t even formulate an answer to that question, when your whole life is labyrinthine corridors and inexplicable mythology about the company’s founder.)

But really, I think of Mark Fisher’s Capitalist Realism---the idea that what we want, desperately, is someone to step up and take responsibility. Someone we can point to, blame, and till under with the new corn, etc. etc. But the center cannot hold and there is no falconer, there is no one. We orbit a gaping maw and it just won’t shut its jaws, let us go, and even if we murder the people shoving us towards the teeth it won’t help.

It’s not about company-mandated “flare.” Jennifer Aniston can pick another restaurant with a less prickish boss, of course she can---but she won’t escape. Neither will her manager. Neither will her manager’s manager, or the cattlefarmer, or the workers slaving to pick tomatoes, the workers at the factory that manufactures the buns, or the copywriting intern who gets coffee for the asshole who writes a flimsy knockoff of WHERE’S THE BEEF. The maw is hungry forever, it will demand to be sated forever, it will never die. There is no escape.

[operafantomet]

Is it even Phantom if I don’t take photos of the chandelier?

Istanbul / World Tour 2015

Broadway 2011

West End 2013

Kristianstad 2023

Hamburg 2014

Stockholm 2016

Oslo 2018

Copenhagen 2018

Las Vegas 2012

Copenhagen 2018

[dolorousvale]

❦ A young woman clad in black stands in front of Philo. It's some time before noon, and the skies are a little cloudy. It's been... Maybe a day or two since she'd said she'd come here?

She glances between her phone and the sign in front of the shop, satisfaction with having found the right address smoothing out the slight furrow in her brow. Her eyes scan the display window, searching for something—

Or rather, someone.

Dolasach enters the shop only after she spots those brown curls somewhere inside. A friendly smile curls her lips, greeting ready... Even though all the plants and flowers were very much stealing her attention from the owner.

@jeremiahofphilo

[bwwfourhumorsau]

Happy TDOV everyone

[phantastragoria]

🌟 Merry (belated) Christmas from the Guardians of the Galaxy 🌟

[roadtophantom]

After 13 years, the Korean production of The Phantom of the Opera returns on stage. Busan previews begin today!

[jeremyonthelair]

So after ten years of watching the show only from bootlegs, I eventually got chance to see it in person, started with the Chinese and then the Korean production this year. And luckily it was the Brilliant Original in its entirety in Korea.

Playout is always one of my top favourite moments from the musical, so I made this compilation as a memory of my very first experience.

And this way, my 2023 Phantom Journey came to a curtain call.

--------------------

This video is to pay tribute to the Brilliant Original Production itself, to the original creative team as a whole, and to the genius designer Maria Björnson in particular, whose vision has been testified by a standing ovation from phans all over the world throughout the years.

This compilation contains:

• My recordings from the 2023 Chinese Production in Shanghai, and the 2023 Korean Production in Seoul

• A clip published on Weibo by @天酱_

• A clip published on Twitter by Conductor Yang Juin (Musical Director of Phantom Korea)

Available on YouTube at:

[sophieakatz]

Thursday Thoughts: Playing the Best Version of Myself

I’m not intending to permanently turn this blog series into a “Sophie listens to podcasts and talks about the Starcruiser” thing, but… this week I found myself once again listening to a podcast episode about Star Wars: Galactic Starcruiser. It was The No Proscenium Podcast this time, and the episode was titled “Last Call at the Sublight Lounge.” One of the panelists, Kathryn, said the following about Halcyon passengers:

“I believe that a lot of the people on the ship were roleplaying that idealized version of themselves… Maybe you’re braver, bolder, more confident, more willing to stand up for what you believe in. Maybe it’s a version of yourself that you want to wish into being, but you’ve never had a chance to articulate it before.”

Funnily enough, this wasn’t the first time I’ve heard someone express this idea about the Starcruiser. On the final night of the show, I met up with a bunch of the performers after closing time. Emotions were running high, understandably, but a lot of those emotions were positive. There was so much love and gratitude in that space – for each other, and for what we had created and accomplished. Everyone kept talking about how much we’d grown because of the Starcruiser. Late in the evening, one of the performers attributed that growth to how we’d created a space where everyone who participated, everyone who came to play, could come be “the best version of yourself” – and playing as the best version of yourself changes you forever.

It gave me pause, when that performer said it, and I’m thinking about it further after hearing Kathryn bring it up again – because when I entered the Starcruiser as a guest, I didn’t think I was playing the best or idealized version of myself. I fully intended to not be myself. Sophie Katz knew too much about the Halcyon and its characters. I spent six months running around that ship, making sure that everyone else knew everything they needed to know about where to be, why they were there, and what to do while they were there. The beats of the whole two-day show are imprinted on my brain. So I thought that in order to have fun, and to avoid ruining anyone else’s fun with metagaming, I had to separate my guest-self from my writer-self.

Shira Alderaani Khesed was a character I made up almost two years ago. I wrote a poem about the destruction of Alderaan in Star Wars, and afterwards I fleshed out the character behind that first-person perspective. She was a woman without a homeworld, the daughter of Alderaanians who just happened to be off planet on their honeymoon when the Empire destroyed their lives. And as far as I could tell before my voyage, playing Shira would be about as far from acting as my real self as I could get without outright sacrificing my morals. Shira was a mechanic; she’d never had the good fortune to be able to pursue art as a career. She was cynical and cowardly, weighed down by the trauma she’d inherited and unable to imagine a better future – in direct contrast to my real-world optimism. She didn’t have a family or community to support her; her late parents kept her intentionally ignorant of her culture, believing that would protect her from her people’s genocide – unlike my real-life parents, wonderful and alive, who raised me to take pride in my culture. I wouldn’t have called Shira my ideal self; I certainly wouldn’t wish to be her or live her life!

I thought I’d successfully separated my real self from my Starcruiser-self.

But the performers on my voyage were quick to prove me wrong.

I mentioned last week that some of the performers dropped hints that they knew me. Gaya said I looked familiar. Raithe said he knew I understood what was going on better than anyone. Lenka outright added a bit to my backstory, saying she remembered how I helped repair the ship before this voyage.

There’s another example of this that I should mention now.

Captain Keevan’s path did not cross much with mine, but at one point late on the first day, I was standing with a friend in the lower concourse when the captain came out of the dining room. She approached us and asked how we were doing, mentioning she’d heard that I’d had some issues with Sammie the mechanic. I responded in character, explaining that Sammie had asked me to do something that I wasn’t comfortable with (lying to First Order Stormtroopers, which from Shira’s cautious-and-cynical point of view was a good way to get killed).

The captain told me that I shouldn’t have to do anything that made me feel uncomfortable or unsafe. Half joking, I looked at my friend and said, “Does that mean telling my friends to not sing anti-First Order fight songs?” (Which, yes, is another thing that happened. Video evidence here. Sophie loved that scene; Shira did not.)

“Well,” said Captain Keevan, “something like that could be a useful distraction, at times. I find that some people work well on the front lines, and their actions make it possible for others to do the important work they need to do in the background.”

“I do well in the background,” I said.

And she smiled and replied, “And I know you’re good at keeping things on schedule.”

As she walked away, I realized something about Shira. I’d thought that by making her a mechanic, I was making her unlike me. I’m not a hands-on hard-science building-things sort of person. I’d even been a bit nervous that someone might ask me something technical that I wouldn’t be able to answer.

But as Lenka had pointed out, as a mechanic, Shira was someone who had helped prepare the ship for this voyage. And as Captain Keevan had pointed out, Shira was someone who worked well in the background, supporting the people who were visible on the front lines.

In other words, Shira was the me I aspire to be, as a professional creative writer – not the person in the spotlight, but the person who makes it possible for other people to do well in the spotlight. The person who builds the world, who takes care of the details in the background, and who, if I’m doing my job right, goes unnoticed. You don’t notice a mechanic unless something breaks; when things go smoothly, you praise the captain. Similarly, you don’t notice a writer unless the dialogue is bad; when shows make you laugh and cry, you praise the actors and directors. That’s how it is. That’s the space I work well in and take pride in. Sure, I want people to know what I can do, and I want to get credit when I do a good job – so that I can continue to do this work that I love and make a living with it. I don’t dream about being a big flashy hero with crowds chanting my name. I want to be quietly essential.

I realized that Shira had an opportunity here – to learn to be that quiet, essential background player.

And as the show progressed, moments kept coming up that developed her story in that direction. When Lt. Croy ordered that a restraining bolt be put on beloved droid SK-620, Shira whispered to Sammie that he needed to go through it, despite the boos of the crowd, to keep the ship safe. The next day, Shira helped lure Lt. Croy and the stormtroopers downstairs to give Lenka and Saja Fen a chance to rescue SK. During the heist, Shira didn’t get one of the many “noisy distraction” jobs; instead, Raithe secretly passed Shira the gem, and she stood far away from the action, quietly keeping it safe while Captain Keevan ordered Raithe to turn out his pockets. Moment by moment, act by act, decision by decision, Shira was learning how much of an impact she could have on the galaxy from the background, even if – perhaps even because – most people didn’t know she was there doing the work that needed to be done.

Everything culminated in a scene that caught me off guard just as much in reality as in character. Shira wound up in the middle of the atrium, with a whole crowd of people’s eyes on her, telling Lt. Croy a series of objectively terrible lies.

It would be impossible for me to exaggerate how uncomfortable I am with improv. I’m fine with public speaking – I’m honestly pretty good at it – but I always prepare a lot in advance. If you’ve ever heard me say something cool, it’s because I spent at least ten minutes beforehand planning it out. I did not plan for this moment. And so, in that moment, even though I objectively knew that no real-world harm would come to me, my fear and Shira’s were one and the same. All I wanted to do was run away.

But I didn’t run away. I kept talking – babbling, really – because I had to keep Croy’s attention on me, so he wouldn’t turn around and see Raithe sneaking up to the mezzanine to steal the coaxium. Because that’s what Shira would have done, after everything she’d been through on that ship. She would play her part. She would make it possible for other people to do the more obviously important and visible job. And, as soon as the job was done and it was safe to do so, she would run away… straight towards Raithe, who promptly handed her the suitcase of coaxium. He knew he could trust her with it.

And me? I want to be trusted. I want to be someone that people can rely on. I may not literally want to be Shira Alderaani Khesed, but I want to have the kind of impact she had on the story unfolding around her, just by being me, hard at work in the background. Building worlds, preparing experiences, and keeping everyone around me on schedule. Relied on and appreciated by the people who matter most. Quietly essential to a life-changing experience, and given the chance to be so again, and again, and again. That’s the best version of me.

You wanna know the best part? Those two days I spent as Shira was not the only chance I had to be that best version of me. I now understand that the role that Shira played on the Halcyon was the role I played with Star Wars: Galactic Starcruiser. I see it now more clearly than ever before. We don’t often get the chance to see ourselves so clearly, and I am so grateful to this cast for helping me see. They gave me such a gift. They gave everyone who set foot on that ship the gift of getting to be – and to learn that we are – our best selves.

I know what I can do for others – for a creative team, for an audience, for the world. I want nothing more than to do it again, and again, and again.

Let’s do it again, together.