Deborah Conway: 15th July 2001
We have migrated north to Newcastle. Canberra was excellent for sliding into the routine, though I’m still a bit confused about when to eat, the old dilemma of eating too early, then coming off stage ravenous and going to bed with a belly full of whatever was available at 11pm - grease factor 10. Speaking of which, I was out walking cross country to the new museum when I heard really loud rock n’ roll blaring out of what appeared to be verdant green rolling parklands. Confused, as you would be, I followed the music expecting to find crowds of young people enjoying an outdoor concert but there was no-one around only an enormous black tent. It looked like the Satanic Kingdom had set up shop and were recruiting, but in fact it was “Grease”. (Maybe they’re not dissimilar experiences.) It seems Canberra crowds can be relied upon to be generous, if the amount of shows opening there is anything to go by. I caught the first act of The Complete Works Of William Shakespeare (in 97 minutes) which opened in the theatre next door to us. Very funny if anyone’s thinking of going.
Nothing went appallingly wrong though a microsecond after leaving the stage after the last number on Saturday night, my clacker pack dropped out and dangled by it’s wire. You can imagine how relieved I was that hadn’t happened on stage. I mean how would I adlib out of that one. “Ladies and gentlemen I’d like to take this opportunity to introduce my battery pack to you.”
Anyhow now we’re on a much smaller stage with some new challenges like not falling off the front of it. We’re in front of a whole new bunch of folks (they call people from Newcastle, Novocastrians) and we’re opening all over again. New flowers for the dressing room, you gotta love that, imagine getting flowers for playing at the Prince of Wales, new green room, which I still haven’t found yet and new reviewers.
I had my day and a half off in Melbourne and then got back on a plane first to Sydney and then on a tiny 12 seater up to Newcastle. A lot of travelling on small planes, another thing Patsy and I have in common.
added Sunday, 15 July, 2001
