No Time For Small Talk

And now it’s time to talk about Kevin. Not really. It’s actually time to talk about The Zumbo Lounge. More specifically, the look of The Zumbo Lounge.

If any of you have ever been to the Cobalt Café on North Great George’s Street you’ll know that it is a stunning Georgian house with a really funky café on the ground floor. And anyone who has ever been to one of (co-producer) Winedark Production’s shows will know that it really is a great venue for cabaret style entertainment. Where better, then, to stage L.A. Blues?

Right from conception, the play was designed to be performed in The Cobalt Café. A site-specific location (using one of the definitions of that seemingly straightforward but actually somewhat confusing theatrical term) would allow the audience to be both spectator and participant. So The Cobalt Café becomes The Zumbo Lounge, the audience of the former becoming the audience in the latter. Which is all very well and good. Except that is makes it difficult for the audience (whether spectating or participating) to see what is going on. So we need a set. Which means designing a set. Something simple. Something that will give height but not detract from the aesthetic of the existing location. Easy done. The design, that is. Not everything else that followed.

I had the designs and layouts. I’d even done scale models using my model-box. Which sounds ultra wanky I know, but miniatures can be really cool and it did allow the actors to make sense of what we’ve been doing blocking wise before we get a chance to get into the venue proper. I’d priced the wood. I’d arranged equipment to cut it to size and a location to build everything. But, and this is a pretty big but, I had no way of getting the wood to where I needed it. Which was more than somewhat frustrating. Some of you may have noticed my plea for a van on Facebook a short while ago. This was a last ditch attempt to get things in motion early. Alas, I failed. So far...

But it is yet another thing to worry about. Never mind dealing with the actors and printers and costumers and all that other stuff... Still, I live for stress. Or so I try to convince myself. Because I don’t really. I hate stress. Hate it. I’m a fan of being prepared. Like the scouts, but indoor. But I’m resigned to the stress coming. I just didn’t expect it so soon. I’m not worried about the set per se – once we get it all sorted, it will look cool (there’s that word again – anyone would think we’re working on a 1990s indie movie starring Johnny Depp). Cool yet functional. Like an esky designed by Apple.