Dec 4, 2023
50p says there's still a wee pile of red threads under that one mat because no one ever thought to tell stage management that's where omar luba was stashing them
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50p says there's still a wee pile of red threads under that one mat because no one ever thought to tell stage management that's where omar luba was stashing them
BABE, WAKE UP, NEW LUBA JUST DROPPED
Thank you, Omar Gordon (and other tales of Studio 8)
So, Studio 8… I went there more times than I should. But I think I had a good reason each time. 4 times in total (which I know for a fact is nowhere near as many as some).
The first time was in my 4th show. Now my 3rd show had been spectacular, up there with my best shows (I had an Adam, Rob, Ed night which was the perfect way to get someone to fall head over heels in love with Punchdrunk). My 4th show, however, didn’t quite go to plan (yes, I know, never have a plan!), and I found myself at a bit of a loss about what to do. Luckily, I quickly latched onto Alex Mugnaioni’s Conrad. I had never followed Conrad for any length of time before, but he quickly became one of my favourites. I remember being terrified going into studio 8 and being genuinely shocked when I saw what fans often refer to as the Thing in Studio 8 (let’s not be precious now, it was a full-sized, very realistic looking, dead horse). There was also one extra touch to this experience - when I was finally pushed out of Studio 8, I was pushed right in front of a girl who was clearly not expecting a fellow audience member to come hurtling through a locked door man while a man bellowed at her to run, so much so that she screamed in my face. I left Studio 8 exhilerated, so the extra adrenaline rush this incident caused only added to the effect. I giggled to myself and skipped off upstairs.
I thought Alex’s Conrad was great, but I think many Punchdrunk fans have their first Punchdrunk love – the first person to really bring you into their story, the first one to fully immerse you. Now this person is not necessarily the first person you come across (believe me, I didn’t come across mine until a good way through my 2nd show), but it sticks with you. Now that person for me was Adam Burton, playing Mr Stanford, and my love only deepened when in my 3rd show he gave me my first ever interaction and 1:1. So after following Alex’s Conrad, I knew I had to see Adam’s. It was one of those special loops where you feel like you are the character’s companion, their go-to-guy, their confidant for that hour. Besides, you feel like you’ve bonded with a man once you’ve removed his stockings. The Studio 8 experience with Adam was just as thrilling, and if anything more devastating, having had it in the context of the earlier 1:1. I was shocked to find that although I knew what was coming, I was still scared because I was so caught up in the story. Although this time I think I was more afraid for Conrad and less for myself.
My 3rd visit was a Fool visit which happened quite by chance. I was actually following Alice when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I was expecting it to be a friend of mine who I had taken for her first time. It is still one of the most memorable images from The Drowned Man for me, after a tentative tap on the shoulder turning around not to see a 23 year old girl, but to see Rob McNeill’s Fool smiling at me in a sweet (yet somehow distressed) way and giving me a timid wave before offering me his hand. It was interesting going to Studio 8 with the Fool. The first part in particular, as he made me lie on the bed and cuddle the horse while he told me the story, and, for the first time, it really was a children’s story (as opposed to a grandmother’s story) being told to me.
After these 3 visits, I made a decision that I probably shouldn’t go into Studio 8 again. I’d had 3 amazing visits, but was worried that the experience would be diminished by going there again. Besides, 3 times is enough for anyone and some people had not been in there at all. But one night when I was wandering without any plan, waiting for my attention to be caught by some character or another, I came across Omar Gordon’s Fool. I really loved Rob’s Fool, he was a character so full of pathos. The strange, sad man in the mime’s makeup. Always an outsider. A man who knows too much. So I was mainly just planning to follow Omar’s Fool until I came across someone who caught my attention more. However, this plan was derailed when I noticed how utterly different Omar’s Fool was. He struck me as less tortured, yet somehow darker. He went about things differently. When he fell to the floor in the corridor in front of Studio 2 he pulled me down with him as if to talk to me (like Stanford does before the private party), only before he got chance Conrad towered over us and shouted at us both. When it came to reset time, after I had helped him put on his makeup, he took the flowers meant for Andrea and very slowly held them out to me. I refused to look at them, knowing that they weren’t for me, until the very last moment. As soon as my eyes left his to look at the flowers, he whipped them away from me and hid them. I suddenly got it, this Fool was a playful Fool.
When we got to Studio 8 time, I couldn’t leave Omar’s Fool, I was far too invested. I had decided that if he wanted to pick me, it was because he wanted me to see his full story, and who was I to decline? Besides, he was so different to Rob’s, I really wanted to see this part of his story. When he picked me he made me try the handle to the trailer, I gave him a look and tried it, unsurprised to find it locked. He smiled at me, took out his key and turned to unlock it. I tried it again and, still finding it locked, I decided I had worked this Fool out, he was indeed playing with me.
When we got into the trailer, he made me sit on the bed and the toy horse was nowhere to be seen. He whispered the story in my ear, and we followed the string into the dark. Up to the point where we saw the horse, this visit was not really much different to any of my other trips. We ran away from the horse, and it felt much the same as with the others. We were both scared, we were both in this together. That was until we got near the exit of the Studio. At this point Omar Gordon did something incredibly kind. I don’t know why he did it (maybe he always did it this way, although I have heard accounts to the contrary, plus in most loops the Fool can do this 1:1 2 or even 3 times, but I’m fairly sure he only had time to do it once in this particular loop), others have suggested he could sense I’d been there before and decided to switch things up a bit. Whatever the reason, it was one of the most generous things a performer has ever done for me. A moment where I really felt that this performer was going out of his way to give me a truly thrilling experience. And I was so grateful.
That was because at this moment, Omar Gordon decided that he would do everything he could to scare me shitless.
I was wrong, this wasn’t a playful Fool who enjoyed joking with me. This Fool was evil and enjoyed nothing more than messing with my head. As soon as we got close to the exit of Studio 8 he turned off his torch and walked away from me, leaving me alone in the pitch black. Then, every now and then would flash his torch back on so I could see his creepily made-up face coming towards me. At some points I would only know he was near me by the feeling of his breath on my face as he whispered to me, or the smell of cigarettes coming from his clothes. It was the stuff nightmares are made of. Alone with a clown in a dark, empty space. Stood still. Vulnerable. Completely at his mercy, when he clearly felt none towards me. In the past when my Studio 8 guides had told me I wasn’t safe in there, it was a warning. With this Fool it was a threat. When he decided to switch his torch back on he sneered at me and told me I needed to be more careful who I trust and showed me where the door was. It was the only time I ever had to open that door on my own.
When I left the Studio, I was clearly so visibly traumatised that my 4th and final visit marked the 1st time that a black mask had to come over to me and ask me if I was okay.
It occurred to me later that this experience illustrates one of the things that makes Punchdrunk so special - the huge difference between different individuals’ experiences, even when seeing the same thing. Had I not gone into Studio 8, I would have seen a fantastic performance, a complete story, but it would always have been with a playful Fool. Having that experience, however, coloured everything that had gone before. It had put that entire loop in a whole new light. And I was so lucky to see it that way!
My Time at Temple Studios, Part 13
Show #13
Tuesday, Dec 31: 5 pm
Here we go, the final show of my December trip, New Year's Eve, lucky #13. Or unlucky, perhaps. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
Prior to getting on the plane, I had made a mental list of character/actor combinations I wanted to make a point to see over the course of my seven shows. Over the course of the first six, I managed to check off nearly all of them (or replace them with strong alternatives, like Tomislav English's Andy at show 12). In fact, there were only two remaining: Omar Gordon's Fool and Miranda Mac Letten's Faye. Combine them with James Finnemore's Doctor, which I had heard nothing about prior to my trip but whom Hannah was raving about after the show on the 27th, and Sonya Cullingford's Romola, which would allow me to both reprise a favorite loop at my last show and also finally see the normal end of her loop (I had only done the 3rd-loop alternate ending with her), and I had more than enough to occupy my whole night. Of course, this would require that the casting for the show turn out exactly as I needed it to, and what are the odds of that?
My favorite way to begin a visit to The Drowned Man was with the Fool.
From the first lift, up or down to the finale stage, and there he was.
I'd stand behind him, and we'd watch Wendy in the distance. She'd be shrouded in fog, the backlit outline of a woman, throwing herself among the trees, climbing and falling.
"Grenouille's Childhood" would play, haunting and lovely, in the immense space, so huge you couldn't see the walls. Wendy was just this tiny tragic woman, so alone, not realizing she was being observed... It might have been the most beautiful moment in The Drowned Man.
I'd watch from behind the Fool, so that I could see them both at once, him puppeting her movements. Was he controlling her, or did he just already know what she would do?
Then Mr. Stanford would speak. "Let's do another take."
Wendy would approach, oh so slowly, through the trees, up the steps, and to the pool of water. The Fool would back away, to the railing, and if he'd already attracted a crowd, they'd swarm him.
But the best thing to do wasn't to hover an inch from the Fool - what was the point, when he was just looking through you to Wendy? The best thing was to back away, in front of the pool, down the steps, as far away as you could get while keeping both the Fool and Wendy in your field of vision.
You'd see her in the foreground, him in the distance, the opposite view as when you entered. The further away you could get, the more beautiful the scene, the more you could see of the immensity of the space, the extraordinary set, the relative smallness of the people. First loop was best - sometimes it would just be the three of you.
"In a lonely place, on a silent night, you're by the water. Everything is still, as if the world were dead, But there's something in the water..."
Wendy would reach down, so slowly, and in the distance, the Fool would mirror her.
Was there another moment in Drowned Man as hauntingly beautiful?
The moon would come out from behind the cloud, "and you've never seen anything shine so bright..."
Nothing like finding yourself near tears, just five minutes into the show.
He was just trying to get you to follow Wendy, of course, but the silent, eerie figure of the Fool in the distance was so haunting.
***
The Fool was the third character I ever followed, first loop at the second preview.
I found him shortly out of the first lift, but I don't think he did that opening scene. I just remember him sitting against the railing. The Fool, in early previews, barely had a loop.
I remember he did the drowning scene with Lila. I remember him piecing together the map and following it to the foley room. But did he do the whole performance in the tent? Maybe?
My first Fool was Paul Zivkovich, and at that time his Fool reminded me of his Porter - sad and a bit OCD. He developed so many great quirks later, the way he'd talk to himself for example, but that all grew over time.
I don't remember much else from that very first loop. He did some handstands in the dressing room. He stared longingly at a photo on the makeup table. I followed him through a door which turned out to lead into Studio 3, which they were still letting the audience in through at that time - a black mask politely directed me out and the Fool reappeared shortly afterward.
He led us through the trees, into the distant fog, and I felt terribly self-conscious about being in the way. At one point it seemed impossible for me to get out of his way - no matter where I moved, he just kept coming at me. Then he grabbed me. Oh! He was trying to pull me into a 1:1.
There was no Studio 8 at that time. He pulled me under a tarp or something, against the back wall. The music was so loud I could barely hear - I caught just enough words to know it was the Grandmother's story. I could barely see his face. Afterward he sat under a tree and juggled wood chips for ten minutes.
People always apologize and/or make fun of me, that I had the bad luck to come at previews. But I loved seeing the previews. I love that a company whose productions seem almost supernaturally well put-together are, in fact, only human, that these productions aren't magic, they're the result of incredible hard work.
It was so cool to see the Fool go from barely having a loop to being one of the most extraordinary characters in the show.
I loved the Fool for completely different reasons than I loved Frankie. Frankie ultimately appealed to me for very traditional reasons - the character arc, the narrative layers, the dialog. The Fool was something else entirely - I never thought much about who he was or why he did what he did. The Fool existed on a level that was more visual, more abstract, more symbolic. The choreography and performance were so beautiful, and they weren't just about him - they were about the entire show, how strange and sad and lovely it all was.
Also, unlike Frankie, who was very tied to a particular performer for me, I loved many of the performers who played the Fool. It was wonderful to get to see so many different takes on the same character.
On the extreme end, Omar's and Paul's were so different - different interactions, different relationships, different scenes entirely. I once had the loop with Omar's Fool back when it was nearly an extended public 1:1 - I remember rushing along that passageway behind the finale stage, him clutching me to help him stand, him falling to the ground, pulling me down, and Conrad looming over us, demanding "Did you tell them?" I like Conrad, but that is probably the moment I came closest to breaking my silence - all I wanted in the world was to tell Conrad to leave him alone. It felt so real.
After Omar's Fool walked me out, he danced with me in Studio 3, spun me around, told me to come back and follow him again any time. He was so extraordinary, really, so many of them were, it's hard to have a favorite.
I followed Rob McNeill's Fool when he'd just started, and I wasn't impressed - at first it seemed a pale imitation of Paul's. I followed Rob's again after it had time to develop, and it too had become extraordinary. Just little touches that made it wonderfully his own. He played up the duality of the character - visually, he'd paint half his face and pause before painting the other half. He'd direct Wendy to the party, but then suggest perhaps she shouldn't go. He'd see Wendy retrieving the scissors, preparing for the final murder, and he'd fight with himself out loud about whether to stop her. He spoke much more, and seemed to struggle more explicitly against the control of the studio.
I spent a lovely loop once with Hector Harkness's Fool - it must've been one of the last times he played the character, mid-April, and I actually tore myself away from Conor's Eugene because I'd never been in London when Hector was Fool before. His Fool had such a warm, reassuring quality - when he led me into the darkness, I trusted him completely.
I also only ever followed Alistair Goldsmith's Fool once - at the time, his was like Paul's, nearly the same choreography, but he seemed more in control, more powerful, angrier - just little touches that brought a sinister quality which differentiated his Fool and made it interesting to follow.
(I never quite connected with Francois Testory or Greig Cooke, but you can't win them all.)
So back to remembering the Fool...
After that beautiful opening scene, we'd go to the tent, and he'd clown for Lila. I loved every single version of this scene that I ever saw. Paul's was my favorite, but all the Fool performers had their own slightly different take, and it was great to see the variety.
My favorite version, selfishly, was in the autumn, the first show there was no Lila. I thought I was hiding, in the corner, feeling dorky about being there again, when suddenly Paul's Fool grabbed me, spun me in a dance, sat me down across from him, and did the scene with me as Lila. I have this vivid memory of sitting there, trying not to giggle, trying to remember what Lila even does in the scene, with Paul across from me clowning, and another friend in the seat next to me, also giggling at Paul.
It was really, really fun.
My favorite take on the script/map scene was Rob McNeill's, for reasons throwtherose describes - there was something warmly inclusive about the fact that he'd read the text aloud. Rob's Fool was so different from his Andy, and yet both had such a similar likable quality.
I was sad/glad to see Rob's final performance, Saturday July 5 - my most vivid memory was the tape stubbornly refusing to unspool, and his Fool finally giving up and tossing the tape at an audience member to get it working, with a "last show, huh?" that had the whole audience laughing with him.
Stacking the champagne glasses was a fun bit that I only saw Paul do, especially amusing when he'd make it obvious that he'd knocked them over on purpose. The first time I saw it, the whole interaction seemed improvised; subsequent times, I was always surprised how real it seemed. When I was chosen, I remember being so nervous that I'd do it wrong, but of course, the scene would have been funnier if I'd messed up.
The drowning scene was so creepy. I think the worst aspect was the sudden reversal, from a haunted Fool scaring innocent Lila with "We live inside a dream," to sweet Lila, suddenly possessed, holding the Fool's head under the water as he struggled. Then his look of betrayal, and her shock at what she'd done.
Once I went to see the scene on a night there was no Fool - Laure's Lila was in there alone, preparing for the scene, and the lack of Fool was so disturbing that I ran away and didn't see what she did in place of the drowning.
I loved circling the private party with the Fool, watching the stars enter, feeling left out together. I loved the snarky interaction Paul's Fool would have with Dolores, "No invite again, eh Oscar?"
Another favorite scene, maybe my actual favorite scene in the show - the Fool's dance in the ice palace. It was a microcosm of the entire show, such a beautiful set, those mountains of fake snow, and such a strange, eerie, beautiful performance - manic, sinister, over-the-top, and very very sad.
I particularly loved the little distraction techniques he would use, so that you wouldn't notice his hands full of snow until he suddenly threw it into the air, and you could easily miss him swallowing the chess piece, so that you'd be freaked out when he slowly spat it out to Marshall. It was true to the character, a figure who, like Harry and Conrad, came from another era, whose talents were no longer valued...
I wish I'd been able to experience the 1:1 the first time without knowing what we'd find at the end.... it's one of the reasons I loathe spoilers. It would have been extraordinarily more powerful.
After previews, I went back in August, and of course I wanted my first visit to Studio 8 to be with Paul's Fool. But at the early show, I was wandering aimlessly, not even realizing where I was, when Omar's Fool suddenly appeared and grabbed me.
I thought, for a moment, of telling him no, sorry, I'm waiting for next show. But of course who would do that? I went with him, and his performance was wonderful, his Fool so sad and so reassuring - there's no way I could regret seeing it with him first.
With Paul's Fool, the first time, I painted his nose red, and he let me out in the basement. There's something about the way Paul tells that story - calm, sad, reassuring, but also distant... it was different than any of the others. Rob and Omar were both more immediate, more visceral - I think they both had me lay on the bed - and Hector's was so gentle... but Paul's was more haunting...
I never helped with Paul's makeup again, but I later experienced the version of the 1:1 with the running in the dark, letting you out back where you started, and *that* became my favorite 1:1 in The Drowned Man. (I'd say my favorite Punchdrunk 1:1, except the Porter in Sleep No More is still the best.) It was the running that did it - I mean, just, when in your life do you ever do something like that? I don't. The adrenaline rush was completely real. There was no thinking, just running through the darkness and trusting that he'd get me out safe.
***
I said a lot of goodbyes to the Fool. (So many that it doesn't feel real - I kind of think I could turn the corner tomorrow and see him again...)
The real goodbye was Paul's "last" show, because Paul was my first Fool and I knew it would not be the same without him. He walked me out, kissed my cheek, walked away, glanced back one last time - in my heart, that was the end.
But then I came back, and saw Rob, Ali, and Greig, and they were wonderful too.
And then I was at the Sleep No More Mayfair party, and Paul was basically the Fool, behind the window of the tailor shop, doing bits of the ice palace dance and applying his makeup in the mirror. It was so lovely to see him again.
I thought maybe the final time I'd spend a full loop with the Fool was with Rob McNeill, when I revisited his Fool in mid-June and found that it had become so good. The loop was beautiful, the 1:1 was perfect, and that would have been a really good ending. The only thing missing was that we didn't run in the darkness.
But then at the very final show...
I went to my favorite place to start a show, the finale stage, but since the 20 people in the queue ahead had ballooned into 70 by the time they let us in, I was just too late for my favorite opening scene. I went, instead, to the tent. And Paul was the Fool.
I can't think of a better way to say goodbye to the show.
I got to see his tent act again. I stacked three plastic champagne glasses. I saw Lila try to drown him. I was in shock at actually getting to see his wonderful ice palace dance one more time. His "It's not real" afterward always kills me. I (and another white mask) helped him stand when his legs didn't work - he said "I'm okay," stepped forward, and fell flat on his face. That scene... Then he went to the makeup table. He gabbed bloodwillhavebloodtheysay from the corner to help with his makeup. Then he grabbed me and pulled me in for my final visit to Studio 8.
I know everybody is always saying how they cry in 1:1s, but I really don't, usually. That is the most I've ever cried in one.
Then we ran in the darkness, and you can't really cry through that.
He said, at the end of the 1:1, something I'm forgetting now... something like that at the end, we'd blow the whole thing wide open...
I left after that, but since I'd missed the beginning, I came back for one final scene - the finale stage, and Wendy in the trees. It was too crowded, hard to appreciate the vast beauty of the space when white masks keep blocking everything you're trying to see.
But still - I'm glad that scene was my last ever glimpse of the Fool.
A double Drowned Man, to mark the beginning of the end
SHOWS 20 & 21 – 20 June
Today will be my last two proper shows and my first ever TDM double. I know the final show isn’t going to be like a normal show, even if Punchdrunk don’t actually make any changes, and so I have no plans to follow anyone that last night unless by some chance a favourite actor or performer wanders past alone. It'll be about saying goodbye to rooms and scenes and trying to imprint them on my memory forever. There’s a strong chance I may be sitting on a bench in town sobbing quietly.
So today, in preparation, I’m feeling a bit emotional. A bit needy. Not the best way to approach a Punchdrunk show, especially not one that's sold out. I'm unlikely to get a 1:1, and it shouldn't matter, but today it does.
I spot that Jesse Kovarsky’s playing grocer again, and I need to fill in a couple of gaps from last time, so I make a plan to do his first loop until the reset, Adam Burton’s full Stanford second loop, as I haven’t seen it yet, and I leave the third loop open for now – maybe Studio 3.
Spoilers ahead…