Le Cabaret Du Passé: Macabre

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing, / Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;

When I first met Spooksy DeLune, she was painted blue and surrounded by a media scrum. That may sound very strange to a lot of you. I, however, find myself writing shit like that with increasing regularity.

She now produces and hosts Le Cabaret Du Passé with Cameo LeCrock, the third Tuesday of every month at Gastown’s Guilt & Co.

I wasn’t sure what to expect, but that was its greatness. Le Cabaret Du Passé is like a waking fever dream. The show, “Macabre”, was both funny and disturbing (Violet Femme started her second performance “walking” out bent over backwards like little Regan MacNeil, racing down the stairs in The Exorcist. I have pics but they still freak me out). I’d seen Little Miss Risk and Burgundy Brixx perform before, though I hadn’t seen either of these routines. Both of them can be expected to make you grin while pushing a couple well-buried buttons at the same time. Madame Mae I’s performances were both classy and dark. I would not be surprised to knock at the gate of a dark, mountain castle and to find her Mistress of the House. Rebel Valentine performed during the intermission with The Valentine Confessions. It was a subtle set of great music that complimented the evening perfectly.

Le Cabaret Du Passé is certainly a destination I will be headed to again. Guilt & Co. is a cozy room with a great selection behind the bar and the setting certainly adds to the Vaudevillian atmosphere Cameo Lecrock and Spooksy DeLune are achieving with their new shows.

Cameo Lecrock and Spooksy DeLune

Violet Femme

Little Miss Risk

Burgundy Brixx

Madame Mae I

The Valentine Confessions

The Purrrfessor & Burgundy Brixx

Little Miss Risk

Violet Femme

Madame Mae I

Kitty Nights:

Pour sex down the barrels of an old double Winchester then fire it out the window of a ’67 Chevy travelling at 120mph. No joke.

The Vancouver Chinese Lion Dance Team:

Miss Cherry OnTop:

Manda Stroyer:

Lola Frost:

Miss Mia Rose and Dapper Dan (somewhere Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart is laughing his genius head off):

Calamity Kate, Mackenzie Gray, and The Purrrfessor:

Calamity Kate:

Burgundy Brixx:

John Bews and Nicky Ninedoors:

April O’Peel:

Miss Cherry OnTop and Lola Frost:

It was a night to be sure. Check out Kitty Nights, Vancouver’s longest-running Burlesque night, EVERY Sunday at the Biltmore Cabaret.

Bus Writing: “Actually, it’s a loveseat”

Originally scrawled in unreadable prose while riding the 253 westward…

The fact that she could most likely smell me before she saw me was probably little solace to ******* when she woke up this morning. It was, however, of some comfort to me. To describe her as bashful would be an outright lie, but there is still a noticeable difference between seeing someone nearly naked on stage and surprising the hell out of them as they step out of the shower. So her knowing I was in the apartment somewhere helped the morning along without any improper run-ins.

The call went out shortly after 2am this morning. I needed a couch. A text reply told me I had 15 minutes to arrive. I leapt from my perch and hailed a cab. I buzzed the apartment and a familiar voice purred, “Hellooooo?” over the intercom. She met me in the hallway with the loving eyes and faint smile of a mother who opens the door to a child who has walked home in the rain.

“Anyone order a wayward drunk?” I asked as she ushered me into the apartment.

It appeared as though I had interrupted her pre-slumber stretching routine. It’s no surprise. A lot of my relationship with **** seems to be based on me interrupting something. This, however, is not difficult to do as she is always doing something.

The stretching is distracting.

It’s not any base form of lust that distracted me; I could draw her soft form from memory. It’s the stretching itself. She casually carried on polite conversation as she bent herself in ways that made every muscle in my body ache at the sight of it. She suggested I try yoga, as she always does. I told her I’d think about it, as I always do.

As I drifted off to sleep, I caught myself snoring and thought, “What a lousy repayment for her kindness.”

**** made me tea in the morning and ****** offered up some herbal meds that are supposed to be good for liver function. I strapped on my Converse, gave **** a warm hug, and thanked her for the use of her couch.

“Actually, it’s a loveseat. It’s not big enough to be a couch.”

Walking down the front steps of their building, I slid my Persols on to hide away from the morning sun and thought to myself, “It’s a loveseat because of the size of your heart, my dear.”

I hit the streets in search of coffee and a new day’s adventure.

Open House at The Vancouver Burlesque Centre

There is no greater feeling than when the buzz in a room is created by the combination of giddiness, pride, and the satisfaction of a job well done.

Friday night I attended the opening party for the new Vancouver Burlesque Centre. The space is simple but it doesn’t need to be anything more than it already is. It consists of a reception/sitting area, the studio itself, and a maze of back rooms used for storage and workspace. I think it was the first time I’d seen a sewing machine and a mitre saw within ten feet of each other. Lola Frost, Burgundy Brixx, and Cherry OnTop made incredible hostesses. A little bar in the corner served drinks, a DJ spun, and Burgundy made the rounds with home-baked “boobie cookies”.

Boobie Cookies

Rather than write my typical “review” let me just say this:

It is hard for me to explain just how much these ladies have come to mean to me in the time that I have known them, Lola especially. It has been less than a year since we first met, and I am still very much only an interested observer in their world but I am happy and proud to regard them as friends. For my part, I have come to rely on them for daily reminders that the changes I made in my life have been good ones.

Cherry leads an interactive dance demonstration while Burgundy and Lola look on

I am intensely proud of all of them, not just those involved with the Centre, but all those who have chosen a path different from the norm, who exude passion and love, while still maintaining the cut-throat drive of the most jaded captains of industry. I wish them all the love and luck for the future of their project that I can possibly muster.

Miss Cherry OnTop with, well, a cherry on top. Photo credit: A slightly tipsy Lola Frost.

The Electro Swing Club at The Electric Owl Social Club

I can’t dance. I just can’t. A lot of my life is lived vicariously through the artistic energies of others, so why should swing dancing be any different? When I was invited out to the Electro Swing Club’s dance party at The Electric Owl last Thursday, I jumped (jived, and wailed?) at the chance.

When I arrived at The Electric Owl that night (after my obligatory cheap pint at The Ivanhoe), I was met at the door by Miss Lydia DeCarllo. This is always a good sign. After a brief chat, we entered together and I was met at the ticket table by Valentin, my host for the evening. The party was already in full swing (sorry, couldn’t resist that one). Deanna Knight and the Hot Club of Mars were on stage and the dance floor crowded with the “swing kids” giving it their all. Most were dressed in period-specific attire and the moves they were pulling off were inspired. Unlike most of my arrivals at The Electric Owl, instead of heading straight for the bar for a sleeve of Pilsner, I stood and watched, taking in the scene, for a good five or ten minutes before making my way to the back bar.

After the band finished their amazing set, there was a fashion show. As soon as I saw the dresses parading across the stage, there was no doubt in my mind that the gang from Scout Boutique were rocking the house. Something I have always appreciated about the clothing at Scout and the girls from Morrismore Models who parade it across the stage is the accessibility of it. The dresses may not cater to everyone’s personal style, but the variety of sizes certainly makes the dresses available to every woman, not just those who possess the magazine-perfect­ Size 2.

When the fashion show ended, a second swing band took the stage. Company B was the perfect band to fill the dance floor again. They were the Andrews Sisters reborn. Matching outfits and perfect harmonies turned the Electric Owl into a USO party. The mood was upbeat, the crowd truly electric (I’m on a mission to see how many truly awful puns I can reasonably squeeze into this piece.).

The closer that night was a three-performance, burlesque set. Scarlet Delirium, Lydia DeCarllo, and Burgundy Brixx took the stage like only they know how. I had never seen Scarlet Delirium perform before. She looked like a living doll. Miss DeCarllo was her usual cheeky self, in every way she could be. Any day you can see her impish grin and wonderfully cute bum at the same time is a really good day. As for Burgundy Brixx, the woman is a true professional and I almost feel bad to use the term “effortless” because I happen to know just how much effort she actually applies to her trade.

All in all it was certainly one of the best events I have been to in a while. I’d seen the poster for the show leaving the Night Owl Review but, had it not been for an email from Valentin, I probably wouldn’t have gone. So I will have to remember to thank him for that at the very least.

After I left The Electric Owl, I stopped in at The Keefer to catch Villainy Loveless, Little Miss Risk, and Cherry OnTop perform the last (12am) set. After missing my bus, I considered my options. I didn’t want to call for a ride and I didn’t want to pay the $40 for a taxi home. So, out of options, I decided to Occupy Vancouver. Yeah, I did. But that, my friends, is another story of this wonderful city of ours.

The Haus of Boudoir Autumn Gala

I sent my lawyer the first draft of my review of the party thrown by Lola Frost and Little Miss Risk. This is what he sent back…

At Terracotta Modern Chinese with C:EHKO Hair Concepts and the BC Cancer Foundation

The first time I was invited out to party thrown by the ladies at S.T.A.G.E. Vancouver, it was an evening of great food, good people, and free drink tickets that seemed to keep magically appearing in my pocket. When I met up with them again at Terracotta Modern Chinese (52 Alexander St) I was expecting the same, minus the free drink tickets, of course. I wasn’t entirely sure where I was supposed to be going but when I saw the photographer set up in front of a media wall, snapping pics of people as they entered, I figured I’d found the place.

I was met at the curb by Farshad Shafiekhani and his wife Shannon, handshakes and smiles and a very sociable couple to be sure. Farshad is the general manager of C:EHKO Hair Concepts. Located at 1087 Hornby St, the cutting edge salon is celebrating one year of operation tonight.

Once inside I surveyed the three levels of the restaurant. It has an upper seating area, a bar service area, and a lower seating area. Before spending too much time checking out the bar service area, I headed upstairs to chat with some friends and the ladies from S.T.A.G.E.. As the crowd started to file in, I got the feeling that this group was similar to the crowd at the GOtoGAL premier, in that they were stylish and savvy without being dicks about it. Heh…

Situated next to the top of the stairs was a three-tiered cupcake “cake”. Everyone eyed it with longing until one guest calmly broke from the pack, grabbed a cupcake, and ate it. My friend nudged one of our hosts. “That girl just took a cupcake.” The heist was acknowledged with a laugh and my friend was offered a cupcake. Apparently, it’s okay to eat them too. Also circling the room were incredible samplings from Terracotta’s appetizer menu.

The DJ, Trip C, played a subdued mixed and people mingled as a photographer made the rounds inside. Alec and Graham Myrfield of The Stumblers Inn, grabbed seats at the table. It was kind of weird seeing them in a such setting, the people all being a little better behaved than we’re used to (hence me not loitering in the bar area). I haven’t seen the boys in quite some time and when asked where I’ve been lately, I answered, “Gone corporate” with a smile. “Us too, apparently,” Graham replied. Then the other shoe dropped. They’re playing the party.

On my way back from the bar, having finally given in, I was introduced to Steven Rayson from the BC Cancer Foundation. I know by one look at his face that I’ve met him before. I know his face from somewhere but just can’t remember. The fact that I had to put one of my drinks down to shake his hand might be a clue as to why. We chatted for quite a while about fundraising and the Foundation. He’s new to the BC Cancer Foundation  having coming from the Food Bank. I thought it was quite remarkable of the gang from C:EHKO to have their anniversary party double as a cancer fundraiser. About ten minutes later, I would find out exactly why that was.

The lower seating area was filled with about 30 items up for silent auction. The items up for bid ranged from things like D+G fragrance gift packages and photo sessions to original art work and Canucks tickets. It’s a pretty good haul and it looked like a lot of people were putting their names down.

I stepped outside and hid across and down the street for a smoke, figuring that parking myself in front of the BC Cancer Foundation’s media wall with a smoke hanging out of my mouth isn’t exactly the image they are trying to convey. While outside, I heard the music stop. When you’re at an event such as this and the music stops, get back  inside because you’re about to miss something important.

When I got back into the restaurant, Farshad was addressing the audience. He graciously thanked everyone for coming and thanked the staff at C:EHKO for a wonderful year. He invited his wife, Shannon, to the microphone. She thanked everyone for coming, with a genuine but weak smile. She has dreaded this moment. I could tell just by looking at her. I didn’t know why the event was a cancer fundraiser. She let me know.

Last October, after a 12 year battle with cancer, she lost her father. In an emotionally charged but not depressing speech, she held the room with her words, finishing with: “We make a living by what we get. We make a life by what we give.” You don’t hear too many Winston Churchill quotes at parties like that, but it was perfect.

Al and Graham started their acoustic set with with “Stone”, a song from their 2005, self-titled album. It’s a song about refusing to break, refusing to give in and a fitting way for them to start.

I was really impressed by the evening. I thought the location was a great choice for the event in that the layout and decor lent itself to the type of evening the ladies from S.T.A.G.E. and C:EHKO had envisioned. The mood and atmosphere were perfect to my eye. I know that Kylie and Cait are fully capable of throwing a party where champagne flutes float in the pool and painters, poets, and producers share a chuckle as the starlet of the latest Hollywood blockbuster streaks through the games room… but this wasn’t that party. It was a well executed tribute to a year of hard work and, unfortunately, to a fighter whose last round came too soon.

On my way out the door (I again left early), Kylie stopped me to make sure I got a gift bag. I could tell by her smile and the glint her eye that she was particularly excited about this one. All doubt is removed when she whispers, “It’s better than the last one” in my ear. I quite liked the last one. I kept the Laurell CD and handed the rest out to people on the bus. I did the same with this one and she was right. The people on the bus got a HAUL that night. I did, however, keep The Stumblers Inn CD to give to a friend.

As I walked out of Gastown and into Chinatown that night, crews were wrapping up a film production. As cables were wrapped and barriers taken down, I thought of all the effort it takes to get anything worthwhile done. Then I thought of Kylie and Cait and wondered what their next production would be like.

I walked down Columbia St, headed to the only place in Chinatown I’d be headed to after dark. I was done behaving.

Halloween with The Night Owl[s]

The second night of my Autumnal Renaissance, the rediscovery of my Halloween spirit, came at The Night Owl Review. Nicky Ninedoors and the gang provided me with laughter, a tear, and three new favourite pictures to top the thousands I have snapped in the two years I’ve owned my current camera.

“Oh shit… She has a chair!” was my first thought as the stage was set for Lola Frost’s opening number. Sometimes, when Lola performs a chair routine, it is as though the music is an animal tamer, the chair is… well… a chair, and Lola is the whip that beats us hapless beasts into submission. There are also moments when she is the beast, seeking out her prey. Her routine that night produced a picture worthy of a National geographic spread on big cats. It’s now a favourite.

Nicky Ninedoors’ first routine could have been taken one of two ways: Firstly, it was Halloweeny in that it began with a ghostly, shrouded figure and ended with a flowing apparition. But, for me, it was also springlike. I saw a glorious, white butterfly emerge from its imprisoning cocoon.

If you are yet to see Burgundy Brixx perform “Sweet Transvestite” decked out as Dr. Frank-N-Furter, you are truly missing out. I was seated first row with a couple fellow blogosphere types. They drank coffee. I drank Pilsner. Good thing too. Had I been drinking coffee, I would have burned my crotch as my jaw hit the floor when Frank-N-Furter hit the stage. At the end of her routine, she produced a glitter-bomb she probably could have got onto an airplane with little or no trouble.

After the break, Crystal Precious made me cry. Granted, she didn’t beat me up and I wasn’t sobbing… exactly, but she did sing. I always say that I love to hear her sing. Often when she sings, she proves that vulnerability is not always weakness as her voice booms out the softest of notes. I did catch a tear and another favourite photo.

There has always been something very sexy about vampires. I don’t mean the sparkling Team Edward bullshit vampires either. I mean the murderous, fluid swapping, orgasm as death vampires. Nicky Ninedoors was sultry and coy in her second performance. Definitely suggestive too. Suffice it to say, had she been a real vampire, there’d be plenty of wooden stakes for the using around the room. She also gave me my third “new favourite” picture.

Burgundy Brixx took to the stage again with the only performance that could have topped her opener. The movement was more subtle to be sure, but her tongue was planted firmly in cheek and the crowd laughed themselves silly throughout. To try to describe it further would do it no justice. Let me say this: She sang “I Only Have Eyes For You”.

 Lola finished the set with one of her “duck and cover” dances. Most of what I see Lola perform, a good 70%, is a steamy, maneater, predatory routine. But, every once in a while, Lola brings out a number, in which, her heels slam on the stage like a pneumatic nail gun and every movement is like a  Soviet-era gymnast sticking her landing from the balance beam. At times like these, I don’t try to keep up. I just keep my eyes locked firmly upon her and say, “DAMN!” a lot.

I was saddened to hear that, for a variety of reasons, that night’s Night Owl Review will quite probably be the last in its current configuration. Fear not, however, Nicky Ninedoors can always be found performing around the city with Pandora & The Locksmiths, Lola Frost and Crystal Precious can be found every Thursday at The Keefer Bar’s Sweet Sip Thursdays, and Burgundy Brixx remains the Head Kitten at Kitty Nights, Sundays at The Biltmore Cabaret.

*UPDATE: I have been informed that The Night Owl Review will RETURN in January. Stay tuned!

Day One of my Autumnal Renaissance: A Late-Night Double Feature with Vancouver’s Spectral Theatre Society

I used to be a real Halloween freak. I’d start planning my next costume on November 1st, while still suffering the effects of the previous night’s party. I haven’t been that way for years. This year, I found myself reborn, rising from the pumpkin patch like a Great Pumpkin that finally arrived.

This Autumnal Renaissance began with the late-night double feature at The Spectral Theatre. The first performance was a wonderfully acted piece, titled “Clockwork”, staged as an old-time radio play, complete with foley artists and period dress.

The second play, “Succubus A Go-Go”, was a cheeky little piece about a gentlemen’s club with a dark secret. Over the past year, the phrase “dark secret” has become, for me, nearly synonymous with one person, Little Miss Risk. I’ve seen her wear (and peel off) many “hats” recently, but to see her and her co-star finish up with a Broadway-styled song and dance number was an enjoyable, and dare I say wholesome, surprise.

Okay, maybe I forgot to take a picture of the "wholesome" part...

Both performances took me back to a time when you couldn’t keep me out of theatres, most of them tiny local theatres, the times I saw Sartre and Beckett staged in rooms smaller than my living room and fed off the actors’ energy. I will be back.

So There’s This Couch: Fall Fashion Show at Scout Boutique

If you were at Scout last night, you would have seen this incredible couch. Maybe it’s a love seat. I don’t know. Settee perhaps?

Anyhow, I tried taking more pictures of it but all these people just showed up and got in the way.

So after the lovely models cleared the way to my wonderful couch, the room filled with lots of chatty people drinking wine and vodka coolers. Everyone seemed to be milling about joyfully despite obscuring my belov’d couch.

Soon the crowd parted. But alas, no joy. As soon as the path to the couch was clear, THIS guy sat on it.

Turns out he’s a writer or something. Not only did he block my couch, he started reading. Suddenly, the couch was no longer the centre of attention. Silence fell across the room and the humidity started to climb. I could actual hear feminine thighs twitch. Poor couch.

So, as it turns out, the couch isn’t for sale. But the dresses sure are. And it’s almost office party season. If you’re looking for the dress that bitch in shipping will never find but the hunk in accounting can’t possibly ignore, swing by Scout (152 East 8th (@Main), Vancouver) and check out the Fall Fashions… and the couch.

PS: DAMN…