The Inevitable Edinburgh Fringe Come Down

Tags

afvs, another fucking variety show, Blues, cabaret, Edinburgh, Edinburgh Fringe, Fringe, Travel, variety

My god, nine months since I wrote a blog? I could have had a baby in that time. I haven’t, of course, I’ve been ridiculously busy trying to juggle six cats, a husband, a toddler and a career! It’s not the easiest thing I’ve ever done.

So I find myself at home after an amazing season in Edinburgh. A season of really hard work but good hard not bad hard. The sort of work that leaves your muscles aching when you finally slip into bed, buoyed by gin, and surrender yourself to the bone numbing fatigue and, (ignoring your million mile an hour monkey mind!) finally the oblivion of sleep, only to wake up the next day to do it all again. AFVS was a joy to do – an amazing venue staff, sold out houses, hilarious and generous guests and the best team I could ask for.

 

 

Edinburgh is a city seemingly built uphill. It doesn’t matter which way you go, you always seem to be going uphill but it is the soundness of one’s mind which goes downhill in Edinburgh! Gradually as the month progresses, your body clock changes, your ability to cook like an adult disappears. I think I ate more chips in this last month than in the rest of my life, put together! You begin to drink more, laugh more, cry more. You become, in equal measure, desensitised and uber-sensitised which leads to the threat of tears which glower behind your eyes like ominous storm clouds! You begin to see your own Fringe madness reflected in the faces of your friends. You treasure the moments of respite when you find yourself away from the Fringe. For me, it was an afternoon leafing through the archives at my tailors. Three hundred years of tailoring history crammed into books, rammed with swatches, drawings and letters. It was heaven. Thank you, Dan Fearn at Stewart Christie, it was more beneficial than you can know. It was an afternoon singing old songs around a piano with dear friends and glorious cocktails. It was sifting through vintage in Armstrong’s.

So then you find yourself at the end, with the sudden and bitter anticlimax that the finale of your final show brings. You chuck out your left over flyers, de-rig your Fringe life, stuff it into bags and wend your weary way home.

And then what?

It’s quiet. There aren’t teenagers howling ‘A Very Happy Un-Birthday’ beneath your bedroom window at an ungodly hour of the early afternoon. There aren’t ticket sales to check, running orders to send out, costumes to fix (who am I kidding? In this house the mending pile is a veritable Everest!), cast and crew to wrangle. There’s a stack of over-stuffed suitcases silently watching me and trying to trip me up as I stumble around, half asleep. They can bloody wait.

First morning home I wake early and alone. I lay in bed watching the grey fingers of the early dawn seep through gaps in my curtains. The crushing, and irrational, post-Fringe loneliness comes scratching at my heart’s door. “What now?” it whispers. “Who are you now?” I lay there, as the fear and depression seeps into my bones. I know it is only a temporary cloud. A week or two at most before real life rhythm is remembered like a familiar tune. Though for those two weeks, every mundane chore in my life is like a personal affront. Washing up? Laundry? Cat litter trays? Nappies? Unpacking? “I’m made for the stage and the glamour and wine and song” my mind thunders like a petulant child. I can’t find my clothes, I don’t remember where I packed them and frankly I don’t care. I find a pair of old harem pants and a discoloured baseball tee. They’ll do, for now.

I reason that I’m not the only one feeling the apres-Fringe blues. Thousands of other people are waking up feeling the same way. Happy to be home, sad to leave; that odd contradictory conundrum. I’m happy to indulge that dusky canine for a while.

I fill my days with work and child. I record an important new track for the Siren album, attend the weddings of several dear friends. The return of a favourite show in London at the weekend. I throw out clothes I don’t like. I spend time with my boys and my menagerie of creatures, all of whom are apparently thrilled to see me.

I ignore the unpacking – maybe I could just leave it packed for next August?

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lili’s Life Through a Rosewood Tinted Lens

Tags

burlesque, cabaret, Cafe Royal Hotel, coco malone, Dusty Limits, London, rosewood hotel, sammy dinneen, scarfe's bar, variety, Vicky Butterfly, Vintage

There is a huge trend in London at the moment for what has been termed ‘luxury cabaret’. Many of London’s finest hotels boast their own resident cabaret show, including The Savoy and The Cafe Royal Hotel. Now one of London’s most glittering five star hotels has tossed its gilded cap into the ring with ‘Cabaret at Scarfe’s’ which is just starting the second month of its residency under the expert hand of one of London’s finest cabaret singers, and someone of whom I am immensely fond, Mr Dusty Limits.

The venue is akin to something you may find in one of the stately homes of England, a drawing room from an earlier time. Glitteringly dark, bedecked with velvet and displays of glass-domed butteflies. The fire flickers welcomingly, drawing you in with its soporific glow, inviting you to fill your glass and relax into the bosom of friends. Dusty’s aim was always to create something that felt like the post-supper gathering at a country house weekend. Not a show but a party, a collection of friends. With that in mind, the cast mingles freely before the show, sharing drinks with guests and creating an atmosphere of louche decadence. When Dusty takes to the floor to start the evening’s entertainment, the crowd is already warm and welcoming which makes it very easy to slip into the show.

Curated by Dusty, the performers are plucked from London’s finest; Vicky Butterfly bedecked in downy white feathers, the delicious musculature of Sammy Dinneen, the velvety honey drenched voice of Coco Malone and I; I sing a bit.
In a space not naturally designed for performance, the show emerges from different parts of the room, Sammy upended on a table, me seated on the bar amid glasses and bottles and Vicky Butterfly stalking the aisles in her glowing cloak. I hope that the audience feel included and enveloped by the proximity of the performers. It is quite an astounding thing to have a semi-naked hand balancer mere inches from your face, his toes threatening to dip into your champagne.

As any good party should, the night gradually grows in debauchery and crapulence, with the hosts ending up close to the floor, or on it, indeed whilst the strains of the the Lorde song ‘Royals’ are played by the incredible musicians, Michael Roulston, Jonathon Kitching and Tom Mansi. More recently, I have found that there has been a glorious return to live music in cabaret shows and that is a delightful thing. A backing track can never replace the comradery of having real live people playing real live instruments playing music with you. It would be a wonderful thing if we were to see a complete absence of shows with track, although I realise that this is utter pie in the sky.

The show ends and dancers, beautifully attired in vintage clothing, take to the floor as the band play Irving Berlin. The crowd watches enraptured and transported to another time and place, a place of decadence and debauchery, where echoes of those Bright Young Things resonate still.
Join me at Scarfe’s Bar next Sunday for the next one of these amazing evenings, meet me by the fire, bring champagne.

Love Lili.
x

Cabaret at Scarfe’s
Rosewood Hotel
Doors 7pm, show 7.30pm
Buy a ticket HERE

 

 

 

 

 

Edinburgh Fringe – Part 2 – The Comedown

Tags

afvs, another fucking variety show, burlesque, cabaret, edfringe, Edinburgh, Edinburgh Fringe, Fringe, glamour, lindy, Pleasance Dome, swing, the Fringe, Tom Barnes, variety

So the Fringe is done and dusted for another year. Edinburgh’s cobbled streets are returned paperless to her residents. Venues are stripped bare, blacks folded and stored and flight cases packed. The Fringe ‘family’ created over the month return to the real world, each of us a man alone.

Now is the time when one finds out whether those amazing friendships, love affairs and chance meetings are something more or simply smoke and mirrors veiled in misty rain.

I had, quite simply, the most wonderful Edinburgh Fringe. A Fringe quite unlike any other.

 

 

 

Another F*cking Variety Show was an epic, joyous and chaotic marathon of variety. We had around sixty acts in over the month, acts of all kinds from the weird and wonderful, to the strange and beautiful, to the uproariously hilarious and mad.

I loved every single second. I had the pleasure of taking my audiences on a rollercoaster journey every night, introducing them to people they had never met or maybe even people they knew very well. We had performance art icons, stars from the fetish scene, many a musical genius, some of the biggest names on the comedy scene and intenational burlesquers who left everyone feeling steamy!

 

You throw it all together, with a room full of smoke, some wonky sparkly letters, five costume changes, the most divine piano player Tom Barnes and my ‘Girls Friday’ Anna Newton and Sophie Mason and you have ‘Another F*cking Variety Show’; but it couldn’t happen without the audience.

 

Dave the Bear, Me, Jaz Delorean and Mr B – The Gentleman Rhymer

The audience, that night after night gave us their energy and their applause and sending us out to the bar on a high and often very late! The team at the Pleasance Dome were superb, professional and very understanding of our cabaret cons (glitter, candle wax and champagne…you get the picture!) Let’s hope that they’ll have us back next year!

Outside of the show, life in Edinburgh was really busy, for the first two weeks we had Rafferty up with us so life revolved somewhat around him. The odd kids show, my favourite being ‘Funz and Gamez’ (Rafferty even received a Copstick review in the Scotsman for his cameo). Swing dance Flash Mobs organised by the wonderful Tricity Vogue made me smile.

There were nights of drinking and dancing, those ‘Dixey’ boys are diamonds and one particular afternoon of ‘Ripping Tweed’ for Walker Slater which will remain with me for many memories to come. Gin, dancing and tweed, what could be nicer? I mean, it might have been better if it hadn’t rained but doesn’t that add to the charm? A private courtyard with dripping moss walls, a hidden tweed paradise in the very heart of the Old Town, it was a delight to share a stage with the ever-elegant Mr B the Gentleman Rhymer for an audience of beautifully attired people sipping cocktails. Getting ‘steamy’ with Tigger and Jett Adore and the conversations that went with meant the world to me, just that hour out of the Fringe madness is so very necessary. I found time to visit Studio XIII, my favourite place to get tattooed and had a pirate tattoo on my thigh done by the amazing Jack Peppiette for my JackJack. It’s not quite finished, we need to get more colour in there, but my pain threshold gave up after three hours! I’ll need to go back to Edinburgh next week, (oh how dreadful!)

So now, I find myself at home. How does one decompress from the Fringe experience? Be kind to yourself. Hole up, allow yourself to be a bit down, relive those happy memories, treasure and build on those new friendships. Keep in touch with your friends, let them reach out to you and don’t be afraid to reach out to them. Remember that you are not alone, there are thousands of people feeling exactly like you right now.
If all else fails, just remember that it is less than 365 days until it all starts again. See you there?

Love Lili.
x

All photos: Melanie Smith, Jack Peppiette, Lili la Scala & Clive Holland

Edinburgh Fringe – Part 1

Tags

burlesque, Burlesque Hall of Fame, cabaret, East End Cabaret, Edinburgh, Edinburgh Fringe, Fringe, Frisky & Mannish, Gamarjobat, King of Burlesque, Mat Ricardo, Pleasance Dome, Ray Gunn, Red Bastard, Russell Bruner, Sam Wills, Stage Door Johnnies, Tom Barnes, variety

So here we are at the biggest Fringe Festival in the world. The Mile is full of, what seem to my eyes to be, twelve year olds who look like they’ve raided a dressing up box. There is the usual assortment of nuns and soldiers, lingerie-clad nubile blondes and buff young chaps wrapped in sheets and enough logo’d sweatshirts to keep a small print shop in business. Strains of ukelele, violin and tambourine waft upwards mingling with the snatched snippets of songs. It’s 10 am and already I have heard a varied programme of songs including, (but not limited to) Brush Up Your Shakespeare, It’s a Long Way to Tipperary and something which may have been in the charts recently but now it is in unaccompanied close harmony sung by American students! The smell of kerosene vapour drifts through my window from the street performer below.

We arrived on Monday and after a thorough clean, our flat seems more like home. We have unpacked and cooked enough food for the month, all neatly packaged in the freezer. On Wednesday, I was invited to the preview show of a brand new all male burlesque revue, Dixey. The line up is utterly stellar and crowned burlesque royalty and I was incredibly excited to see them perform. They didn’t disappoint; Tigger, Russell Bruner and the Stage Door Johnnies are a fabulous example of the ‘Boylesque’ genre. I was particularly enamoured with Russell Bruner, (so adorably kooky, he’s like a silent movie villain made real complete with splendid moustache) and Ray Gunn might just be the most hypnotic, sexual being I have ever seen. In short, it’s the only chance you will get to see real Kings of Burlesque (they have all won crowns at Miss Exotic World in Las Vegas) performing together, here in the UK. If you are here in Edinburgh, you must go!

My show, Another F*cking Variety Show, opened last night. We have new songs, we have a piano player (the amazing Tom Barnes) and we have some very sparkly letters. The heels are high, the dresses are big and the reception was very warm. Added to that, the most killer line up; we had Frisky & Mannish, East End Cabaret, Red Bastard, Mat Ricardo, Sam Wills and Gamarjobat and they took the roof off! There were a couple of hairy moments, the odd forgotten lyric and a nearly finished gown (thank you Miss Cherryfox!) but we open properly tonight and hopefully those little things will be ironed out.

So good luck to all my fellow cabarati, see you at the bar!

Love Lili.

Lili goes to Glasgow for a Wild time.

Tags

cabaret, Edinburgh, Edinburgh Fringe, Frank Sanazi, glasgow, Gypsy Charms, Paul L Martin, variety

Let me share a story with you.

Way back in 2008, I was doing the Edinburgh Fringe, guesting one evening at a late night cabaret show run by Paul L Martin. I was on the bill alongside some silent comedy chap, the man with sticky tape on his head, or something and also a can-can troupe. Now, I was done and getting dressed backstage, (at that time I was doing my operatic burlesque routine, La Butterfly Deshabille) and the can-can troupe were on. Halfway through their routine, it all goes west. The chap is supposed to catch one of the girls and instead, his leg makes contact with her face. Blood running from her nose, she tries to carry on the routine hoping that the audience won’t notice. Sadly, it’s hard to ignore plumes of blood flying horizontally on every spin. She calls time and makes a dash for the dressing room.
“My fucking nose” she shrieks, “Do you have any idea how much this fucking nose cost me?”. As blood streams from her nose, I lean over and wrapping some ice cubes in my vest top, I offer it to her to stem the flow. “Your father’s a surgeon,” she yelled at the terribly apologetic chap “He better have a fucking good plastic surgeon friend if my nose is fucking broken!!”.After twenty minutes, we’d stopped the bleeding, ascertained that the nose was not broken and she gave me back my soggy, bloodstained top.
I packed up my costume and slipped out of the venue, sans top!

Fast forward six years.

I get a very exciting email about a new cabaret club opening in Glasgow and would I like to come up and host a weekend. Now, I’m not great with a) leaving home and b) new people or places. Being a creature of habit, I’m very happy to reside comfortably in my comfort zone. So the day comes and I hop on the plane at Southend Airport bound for Edinburgh. I’m met at Edinburgh by the completely delightful Gypsy Charms, whose world has revolved around mine for years. We’ve met briefly here and there but never managed to share a stage. Until now.

We drove through to Glasgow and got to Wild Cabaret, an amazing purpose designed cabaret club right in the heart of the Merchant City. I sound checked and then Gypsy sat down beside me on the floor of the dressing room to go through the running orders for the night. As we chuckled together, I glanced at her profile and a memory sparked. I asked if perhaps she had once been kicked in the face in a can-can in a late night show in a drippy cave? She burst out laughing and we cackled together about that ‘bloody’ show. The laughter continued throughout the weekend, through two shows and one hilarious drive back to Edinburgh where I was regaled with tales of strippers for the whole drive. If you haven’t had the pleasure of Gypsy’s company, you have missed out, she is one funny lady. I haven’t laughed so hard in an age.

The shows were amazing, the venue glamorous, the crowds were warm and welcoming and to top it all, the gorgeous Frank Sanazi left me some strawberries in my hotel room for a late night, post show snack. After a long day and a late show, I have never been so happy to see strawbs! I even got to meet a very affectionate dove called Athena.

I’m back up for more fun on the 27th and the 28th June, so Glasgow, get your tickets here and join Gypsy and I and a host of glorious cabarati for a hilarious evening of fantastic variety.

Love Lili

 

 

The Oscar Wilde Bar rehomes a Stray Cat…

Tags

Black Cat, burlesque, cabaret, Cafe Royal Hotel, Ceil Chapman, champagne, costumes, Duncan Walsh Atkins, Dusty Limits, Frisky & Mannish, Lili la Scala, London, Marcella Puppini, Michael Roulston, music, Nicola Enigma, Oscar Wilde Bar, Salon des Artistes, Sarah Louise Young, Singer, Tattinger, the Black Cat Cabaret, variety

Now I know I have written about the Black Cat Cabaret before, but there has been an evolution for this kitten. After slipping away from the gaudy Cafe de Paris last year, the Black Cat has been rehomed by the gorgeous Cafe Royal Hotel, in the historic Oscar Wilde Bar (formally the Grill Room). The room is an extravaganza of gold leaf and mirrors with a baby grand piano in its centre and it is there where we set our stage.

As a singer, it is always a treat to be given the chance to interpret lesser known gems and as a regular attendee of the ‘Salon’ I get the chance to sing songs that would normally see the light of stage in a more conventional recital, as well as interpretations of other favourite songs of mine that I have hoarded in my collection. In many cabaret clubs we all slip into our comfortable staples, (normally those songs for which we can find the backing tracks) but the joy and delight of the ‘Salon des Artistes’ is the addition of the musicians; and what musicians they are! We are regularly graced by Michael Roulston, Nicola Enigma, Duncan Walsh Atkins and fabulous bass players like Tom Mansi. They enable us singers to perform music which is not normally found loitering around in other cabaret haunts.

We have also been lucky enough to have had some of the world’s top cabaret singers through the doors of the ‘Salon’ including Frisky (of Frisky and Mannish fame) is a regular and so is the amazing ‘La Poule Plombée’ with her carer, West End star Sarah-Louise Young. Lady Rizo stopped by when she was in town, Ali McGregor came along (avec enfant), Marcella Puppini (the founding Puppini Sister) and even Alfie Boe, (OK, he may not have sung a song, but he definitely was in the room – we’ll get him next time!)

Dusty Limits is the compere and director, although yours truly steps in on occasion. Otherwise, I get the chance to pull more unusual songs from my repertoire, soak them liberally in Tattinger (pink Tatty on occasion) and unleash them on our intimate and adoring audience. At the moment, I’m enjoying Lizst and Léhar as well as a little Radiohead. I’m contemplating some Mozart and some Poulenc for later in the year. Add to the mix, the muse – a gilded Vicky Butterfly, a devastating hand balancer, (you can count Reuben Kuan and Sammy Dineen amongst our guests!), resident danseurs ‘Cabaret Rouge’ and the best looking bar keeps in town (do make sure to look out for the heart-achingly gorgeous Tiago – Dusty’s particular favourite – although Tiago himself prefers a little Lili in his life, I’m sure!)

If you haven’t yet had the chance to come along to the ‘Salon des Artistes’, I suggest you unleash your inner artist, dress elegantly, slip through our door and wallow in the champagne-soaked decadence of our stunning home. It is a privilege to perform in such splendour and you’ll feel equally as astounded as the performers envelope you in their demi-monde of Parisian chic right in the heart of Piccadilly. I thought I’d leave you with a scattering of my favourite pictures taken by Clive Holland, one of modern cabaret’s greatest supporters.

And once you have finished gazing in wonder at the pictures, maybe you should stop by here and buy a ticket, go on, we’d love to see you.

Love Lili.

Lili la Workaholic

Tags

cabaret, Danny Elfman, Joe Black, London Cabaret Festival month, Proud Cabaret, Tim Burton, variety

I think these past few months I have managed to become busier than ever before. My husband and I had agreed to try to become less ‘busy’ as we felt that the ongoing conversations of ” How are you?” “Oh, I’m sooooo busy, literally run off my feet” “Well, good problem to have!” had become annoying and actually quite damaging. It is not a virtue to be the busiest person in the world. Having said that, life takes off at breakneck speed sometimes and you just have to cling on for dear life and hope that you are still in one piece when it slows down. Hence, amid the new London Cabaret Festival, hosting shows, touring solo shows, helping Tape Face write his new show and my own performing and creating as well as wrangling a nine-month old who is actually in to everything, life is at its busiest and so blogging has rather slipped by the by. So I apologise to those of you who read this, I’m sure you were desperate for more Lili words!!

I’ll get you up to speed on my world and then we’ll start over. Deal?

London Cabaret Festival month is in full swing and the plans are afoot for the Festival next May too. I can’t say too much at the moment, but soon I shall reveal all, including the fabulous new Cabariot video which is going to be launched next Monday. In the meantime, here’s the old one...

I’ve been hosting a lot at Proud Cabaret in the City of London. The venue is so perfect for me and the wonderful people who work there always make me feel so welcome and at home and the line ups are always stellar. Here’s a quick selfie (don’t you hate them? Needs must.) of one of my hosting outfits for last week. I went for an 80’s meets Highwaywoman meets Vivienne Westwood does 20’s look. The gold dress is one that I have had forever and I contemplated selling it last year but I’m glad I didn’t as I liked the effect.

Lili at Proud

Last Monday, I took my husband for his birthday surprise (which had been ruined by Joe Black – devil) to see Danny Elfman’s music performed at the Royal Albert Hall. It was the most fabulous evening. Not only were goth royalty, Helena Bonham Carter and Tim Burton in attendance but the music was simply sublime and hearing Danny Elfman sing the music from Nightmare Before Christmas was utterly awesome. We laughed, we cried, we took dodgy shots of Tim Burton.

Last night, I went with my mother and sister to see The Birmingham Royal Ballet at Sadler’s Wells. They were performing three ballets, the final one being ‘Still Life at the Penguin Cafe’ which is one of my all time, absolute favourite ballet, (here’s my favourite part, The Zebra), in fact, I’m going to write a whole blog on it in a minute, so come back soon.

Until next time…

Love Lili
x

Lili’s not Cabaret Enough?

Tags

artistic scene, burlesque, cabaret, cabaret festival, ecdysiast, entertainment, festival, musical theatre, performers, songs, variety

This has been a controversial week in the world of London cabaret with the announcement last week of the inaugural London Cabaret Festival. It should have been a day of celebration for Cabarati London, nay world, wide. One of the greatest cities in the world raising a huge mainstream flag for a cause which is a passion for many of us? A godsend, a missive and a portend of the acceptance of cabaret into the wider artistic scene. Mais quelle horreur, ‘twas not to be.
The twitter feed appeared, the PR people rustled their press releases and some little web person somewhere clicked their mouse and the announcement was made. The line-up appearing on their website. Immediately, a sense of confusion reigned, this was not cabaret as we know and love it. This was a selection of big names in musical theatre, singing songs. A facet of cabaret, yes, but not a gin-addled host, juggler, hula hoopist or feathered ecdysiast in sight. Not even a variety show? Confusion turned to indignance turning then to anger. Not because Cabarati hate musical theatre, indeed, I am a passionate fan (and I know I share this with Mr Chris Cox, Miss Mia Merode and many others, though not Dusty Limits who has never even seen Les Mis but I digress) but because in a city where cabaret has fought derision from the mainstream, (remember the Cabariot and the following song ‘Too Cabaret’) for being too ‘end-of the pier’, too sparkly and too cruise ship, it has banded together, risen above and carved a successful niche over the last decade appearing in some of the Capital’s highest profile venues. At the same time, cabaret continues in small rooms atop pubs, basements below restaurants and a thriving community supports and protects its own, as Coco Dubois commented, ‘the people who ARE cabaret, who give their lives to it, who live it, who create the industry on a daily basis, haven’t been invited to the party’
By ignoring every single performer on the London scene, the London Festival of Cabaret (notice the awkward arrangement of those words, mes amis and maybe type a rearrangement into google!) does itself, and cabaret, a huge disservice. I can understand (sort of) the desire of the Festival to have a ‘song book’ festival, surely by any other name it would still smell as sweet? The London Festival of Musical Theatre? The London Festival of Cabaret Song? The organisers say that the festival has ‘an emphasis on celebrating the music, lyrics and interpreters of popular American and European song’ and yet the London Cabaret Scene boasts some of the best song interpreters in the world, for example Dusty Limits, Le Gateau Chocolat and dare I say, me! All have been overlooked in favour of a programme of stars from stage and TV. Last time I checked, Alexander Armstrong wasn’t a cabaret performer but a TV personality who can hold a tune.
I think a great festival is a glorious melange of big names and lesser known gems rather than a roll call of big names designed to create big revenue. London needs a cabaret festival that celebrates every fabulous facet of the glittering scene, a festival where audiences have the chance to discover new work, as well as enjoy shows by artists they know and love. Mind-reader, Alex McAleer, said ‘When I hear the words ‘London Cabaret’ I think of some of the best acts in the world. None of which are represented in this alleged festival celebrating the thriving scene!’
The Festival has received negative feedback from so many of the performers on the cabaret scene but has, so far, refused to engage with its critics although as Amelie Soleil said, ‘Their twitter feed has rebuked with “it’s an inaugural event.” However, surely an inaugural event should be as diverse as possible to generate & nurture audiences to allow for specialisation in subsequent years. It’s a castration of the scene’.  Well respected cabaret performer, Mat Ricardo commented, ‘It’s insulting and ill-thought through, and their refusal to engage with the wealth of negative feedback they’re getting on social media is indicative of their “couldn’t care less” attitude to the genuine cabaret scene in London’.
Feelings are running rather high amongst the Cabarati, with one well-known tap-dancer being blocked by the London Festival of Cabaret for airing her passionate views. I chatted to one of London’s most respected hosts and Double R Club king, Mr Benjamin Louche earlier today, ‘Anything that bills itself as The London Festival Of Cabaret yet refuses to engage with, or make use of, the staggering plethora of the city’s long standing cabaret scene is willfully marginalizing itself, as well as its understanding of the genre; and is insulting those who have worked, and continue to work, so hard to keep the industry going. With its stupefying lack of variety, TLFOC is the very antithesis of true cabaret. It’s like an event billing itself as The London Festival Of Circus and only putting clowns on the bill. Shameful and idiotic.’
So from being ‘Too Cabaret’, it now appears we are ‘Not Cabaret Enough’ and in the words of hugely successful cabaret queen, Frisky of Frisky & Mannish, nobody saw that coming.

Lili’s Seven Deadly Sins

Tags

burlesque, cabaret, entertainment, job application, Lili, producer, variety, variety show

As a producer, I often need to find acts for my variety show and I get a lot of applications from keen performers. It’s always interesting to see the acts people are trying to sell to me and I’m always excited when I find someone fabulous with whom I’ve never worked. However, there are always things that make me recoil so I thought I’d share with you some of the things which send an application straight to the trash can! In no particular order, here are my seven deadly sins of job applications:

1. Bad spelling, punctuation and grammar. If you can’t be bothered to spell check your application, then why should I be bothered with reading it?  If I have to decipher the hidden meaning in the string of words, which have no discernible commas, or full stops, I’m unlikely to take the time to do so, no matter what artistic gems you may reveal. If you know that spelling and grammar is a sore point for you, get someone to check what you have written and then cut-and-paste it into the main body of the email. Then you have only to tailor a couple of sentences to the job which is advertised.

2. ADHD applications. What do I mean by that? Seven different fonts in 5 different sizes. Twenty-five paragraphs all in different colours. Seventy-three headlines, all double underlined with 20 exclamation marks!!!!! If it’s painful to the eye, I will expect that your performing style is of the same ilk. Keep it neat, keep it brief. If you have used cut and paste, don’t let it look like it. I like, (and this is purely personal) a simple greeting, a paragraph explaining who you are and what you do, a couple of links to good quality videos. Maybe a couple of quotes from respected sources, (ideally published reviews rather than audience comments). Finish it off with a line or two about how you feel you’d fit in to the show and flattery will really get you everywhere.

3. Spell my name right. It’s Lili. Two L’s, two I’s. Not Lila, Lulu, Lilia or Larry. I’m sure other producers will agree with me when I say that it’s a little insulting when someone hasn’t taken the time to even get your name right. Also, if you’ve never met me, it is certainly NEVER Lil.

4. I am the one and only. Don’t CC in all the other producers of all the jobs you are applying for that day. If you are really too lazy to send more than one email, learn to use the BCC button. If you are still to lazy to send more than one email, maybe you should consider a different job. Youthful eagerness isn’t an excuse, I guess I’m just saying send more than one email. Take the time to personalise your emails, I’ll appreciate the time taken.

5. Big up yourself but don’t. Let me know what you’ve achieved, awards you have won, reviews you’ve received. If you’ve never been crowned, don’t call yourself ‘Burlesque Queen’. Who called you a star? If it was an audience member, don’t take it too seriously because there were five others that called you unmentionable names! If the times called you ‘The Next Big Thing’, tell me. Don’t claim you’ve headlined a show when you were simply on the bill. A quote from one of the top performers can be risky, as it depends entirely on whether said performer and I share the same taste.

6. 15 minutes of fame. I cannot stress enough how much I don’t want to watch a 15 minute, badly filmed, shaky phone camera video of your act. Even the best performer in the world will look terrible on a bad video. Take the time to get your act filmed well. Or get a showreel made which shows all your best bits. Then send me a link, not the actual video! Do I want to download 5GB of video? Not really.

7. Independent thought. If I feel that you have been overly influenced by another performer I probably won’t book you. After all, who wants a line up of Misky & Fannish, Puff the Magic Lizard and Magic Tape Head Man? Inspired by is fine, but if you are using the same costume, music, gestures and style the you need to take a look at your own creative process. Equally, if you are ripping off my best friend/husband/cat, I will never book you. I’m a bitch like that.

I hope that this blog inspires you to look at what you send out for potential jobs. Most of the time I find the quality of acts that contact me incredibly high and there are some truly inspiring performers around the burlesque and variety circuit. I really do enjoy perusing acts and doing a bit of treasure hunting, so don’t put your light under a bushel but display it to its most glamorous advantage.

Love Lili
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