Riding with Voronin, The Original Goth

So one day awhile back we spent the day shooting photos of veteran TZ performers the lovely Svetlana and the mysteriously goofy Voronin at Michael Doucett’s studio in Pioneer Square. We get off to a rocky start and discover that we’re not exactly on the same page; for example, Svetlana didn’t understand that we wanted to photograph them together, but finally she tells me he was still sleeping when she left the house and she left the phone on near his head on the pillow on purpose. But he was out late the night before and we should wait a while before we call.

We met Svet at the tent at 11 a.m. and watched as she transformed herself from just another mom in sweats dropping off her kid at the daycare into Svetlana, Magic Dream Doll, dressed as Louise says like “Tim Burton Met Barbie.”

Which wig? The light pink or the heavy fushia?

Which shoes? Her gold sparkly ones or the cfm lavender boots with the little bow ties?

We pile into the car and glide down town to Pio Square where we score Doris Day parking right in front of the studio. We usher her up the rickety elevator into the studio where Michael has spent all morning setting up pink lights that we immediately realize don’t work. Finally after Valerie the dresser fluffs her skirt and Michael deftly touches up her cheeks with powder, we are set.

Svetlana is a pro - she is immediately in character and Michael gets all sentimental and flowery and stops finishing his sentences and then suddenly mid-flash he tells her - that’s it!

At 11 a.m. I call Voronin. After the fourth attempt he coughs into the phone. I explain several times that we have a photo shoot scheduled today, remember?

“But my costume, it is at the cleaners. Finally after last show we send it to the dry cleaners.”

In my mind I see a swallow tail tux standing up by itself.

“We shooting you in the gray outfit. Nanette has it ready for you at the tent.”

“Call me back one hour.”

I call back in a half hour.

“Ygenya, I’ll come get you.”

He is in the bath. He coughs into the receiver again then I hear him inhale smoke.

I take this as affirmative and Valerie and I get in the car and drive to his house. We collect him and despite his much publicized evening of partying, he is remarkably fresh. His after shave is pleasant. He already smells like smoke and coffee, but clean, vibrant. En route he talks about the show, Mark Stock, his friend the painter, and Peter Pitofsky, his fellow performer. We slow down to let a group of people cross in front of us on Dexter.

“Too slow, these people.” He gestures impatiently.

I recognize a group of co-workers heading en masse to Taco del Mar for Double Punch Monday and chuckle.

Once at the tent he dresses in record time. Valerie and I are looking for the suitcase with the hole in it - there are many suitcases in the prop room. We can’t find it and I start to worry - I figure by this time Svetlana has probably had enough of Michael’s stream of consciousness running commentary and that my colleagues may be starting to get nervous. Voronin plucks it out of a dark corner and we pile back into the station wagon. Half way across town, Voronin realizes he still has his street clothes socks on - green with frogs.

Again, perfect parking in front of the studio. Three young men are leaning against the door frame entrance to the studio smoking - they have just come out of the skateboard shop to the left of the studio entrance. They are young dudes, wearing identical uniforms of skinny tight black straight-leg jeans and black, black dyed hair, spiked up a bit. One has raccoon eyes. All three do a classic double take as Voronin emerges from my car, his black Sherlock Holmes-meets-Dracula cape fastened around his neck. He pauses, puts on his top hat. As he glides past the baby goths, he nods briefly and then enters the building.

Svetlana and Voronin natter away in Russian as Michael flutters about setting and resetting lights. Michael is friends with them with both and he is very excited. Several times he trips over his tripods.

“Look at his face. I love it when we get this Rembrandt effect from this harsher light under his cheekbone. Perfect! Perfect!”

I always find it hard not to laugh at Voronin as he mugs, poses regally, looks sinister, pretends to be casting spells. The dresser is a giggler too. Our laughter eggs him on. Svetlana is his ideal foil, unblinkingly, mechanically posed. The combination of the two of them is striking.

And Voronin is full of ideas.

“American Gothic. Old West family shot. Let’s dance together. Suitcase shots.”

Finally it is clear Svet is done. We feed her coffee but she says she can’t pee in this costume, to please take her home. I leave my colleagues alone with Voronin and Michael.

I return to the studio for the third time. But my parking karma is spent and I have to park up near the ferry terminal. By now it is 2:30 p.m. when I get into the elevator and check my phone and just as I get off on the 5th floor I get a voice mail from Korum. “Voronin needs more coffee and some sandwiches.” I turn around and trudge back out into the world.

Finally we are finished with the posed shots of Voronin. He has more ideas. We pretend he is on a bridge in the fog with the suitcase and the top hat and he has a long long red flowing scarf billowing out behind him - Korum, our designer, thinks we can doctor the shot to have copy inside the scarf. It might be the right image to illustrate the move on the web site.

We wander downstairs and head toward the car, but suddenly Voronin disappears into an antique shop. He comes back out and grabs Korum. “Come. Bring camera.”

He sits in the middle of the shop like a ghost from a different time. The owner of the shop doesn’t bat an eye. Like this happens every day. Voronin buys an old oil can and a bunch of keys. “I use like this - here is the key to the puppet’s heart. Can you wrap these like a present?”

He finds a pair of old sheep shears.

“What you think? For the knife throwing scene. I pretend to throw and then ask Peter if he thinks this is a good weapon. He shakes his head and then ping!” Voronin flips open the shears and pretends to pare his nails. “It’s good, no?”

The store owner finally smiles.

Suddenly my phone squawks. It’s Nanette, the costume shop manager, wondering where Voronin is so she can take care of his costume.

We double check all the props and costume pieces. Nobody likes an angry Nanette.

Reluctantly we leave the shop and drive back to the tent, listening to Voronin’s ideas about the show in San Francisco. As we pull into the parking lot, Voronin spies his car, left there the night before.

“You can jump my battery?”

Sure, I say, but first let’s get your tux back to Nanette.

Teatro ZinZanni Owns Monday Night’s Sonics/Lakers Game

It’s 4:00 p.m. on  wintery Seattle Monday afternoon. The rain is falling sideways as we load up Liesl’s car with Thelma Houston’s costume and my Subaru with Korum, my colleague, and our French acrobats, Les Petits Freres. We’ve been invited to perform at the Sonics/Lakers game. Even though Key Arena is only four blocks away, it feels like it takes us twenty minutes to get through traffic.

We unload at the media entrance and Korum ushers everyone inside while I go park the car. When I finally get back to the arena, I follow Thelma’s voice to the center of the basketball court. Empty of fans, the Key Arena feels weirdly intimate. The lighting is subdued and the only people walking around are wearing official-looking jerseys and headsets. TZ Associate Artistic Director Reenie Duff and her daughter, Madelaine, are seated across the court from where Thelma is doing her sound check. Next to them the Freres have tossed their jackets and scarves on the courtside seats. The three Freres (Domitil, Mickeal and Gregory) cluster around Damian, the Sonic’s Entertainment Manager. They are busy discussing entrances and exits, sound cues and defining the performing space with Damian asking and answering questions in his rapid-fire sports-guy American English, while the Freres confer with each other in French and then one of them (not always the same one) answers Damian’s question. After the sound check and walk through, conversation veers towards the mysteries of Will Call, where do we go? Everyone gets on their cell phones. Girlfriends and wives, boyfriends and parents are alerted to correct location of the Sonics Ticket Office, envelopes are quickly scratched out and imprinted with new names.We decide not to go back to the spiegeltent and wander backstage to check out the dressing rooms and the crew meal. Backstage the ushers are handsomely dignified and incredibly helpful. Thelma Houston is already set up in her dressing room, busy with her make-up. We talk through the logistics, how much time she has to get ready, whether we should go eat now or later. The backstage food is not so bad. Chicken and burgers, bbq potato chips. Lots of bottled water. Finally it’s time. Thelma, resplendent in her Madame ZinZanni costume with her feathered headdress, emerges from her dressing room into the hallway. We joke around with the matronly usher and all have our pictures taken in various combinations with Thelma. The Refs emerge from their secure dressing room and despite the armed police escort, flirt with Thelma as they parade by. We walk briskly around the stadium perimeter, skirting the underneath of the grandstand risers, Thelma’s high heels clicking confidently on the concrete floor. The pulse of the place has picked up significantly and with the surge in the volume of people, it’s as though the place has vaulted up several stories. Lights are blindingly bright, the music is relentlessly upbeat. We stand in the vom leading into the court, waiting, smiling like our faces will break, ready for Thelma’s cue to sing. The Lakers are practicing down at this end. Graceful as cheetahs, they lope effortlessly down and back to the half court line, stopping and popping up to swish balls in from mid-court. A horn blasts and the pace picks up even more, the announcer’s voice booms, lights spin. The Lakers exit the court walking past Thelma, most nodding to her, some stopping to shake her hand. A Seattle Times photographer stops me and we chat about a recent online audio slide show about El Vez that appeared several weeks ago. We agree that camping out at the tent and working closely with the performers yields the best work. She wishes us luck and vanishes into the crowd. Suddenly the Freres arrive, fluttering around Thelma like butterflies, kissing her on both cheeks for luck and disappearing as quickly as they came. The announcer introduces Thelma: “Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome Grammy award-winning performing artist Thelma Houston, now appearing as Madame ZinZanni at Teatro ZinZanni. Please rise as she sings our national anthem.” It’s a force four goose-bump moment when Thelma hits the “rockets red glare.” Then just like that, boom, the song is over and the game begins. Both teams are comprised of this amazing race of tall, slender muscular men who gracefully navigate the length of the court, speaking their own silent language of body cues and strategy, making their own kind of mesmerizing music. Liesl and I join the rest of the ZinZanni cast in their seats and watch as the Sonics take the lead from the Lakers. Suddenly it’s the first timeout of the second quarter, our next cue for the Freres to get ready. Backstage the Sonics Dance Team Girls are stretching and practicing in the hallway, while Squatch, the Sonics’ mascot, combs out his fur in a full-length mirror. The Freres start their warm up. Finally their cue comes at the top of Half Time. The crowd rises all at once and starts streaming towards the exits for the bathrooms and the concessions stands. Two of the Freres enter from one end of the court while the other comes in on the opposite side, swimming literally against the crowd. Their act is performed to “Sing, Sing, Sing (with a swing),” music made famous by Benny Goodman. The music alone is hard to ignore. Add three saucy Parisian pixies and you have the Sonics crowd stopped in their tracks. A cool minute into their act, the Freres had conquered the crowd. By the time they stack standing up on one another’s shoulders, everyone was roaring. And, oh by the way, the Sonics only lost by two points in overtime.

Hanging Out with Mickael & Vita

 

As the publicist for Teatro ZinZanni sometimes I get to sit in on interviews with cast members and the press.  A couple weeks ago, John Longenbaugh, a reporter for the Seattle Weekly, interviewed two young ZinZanni performers, Russian contortionist Vita Radionova and Parisian acrobat Mickael Bajazet. 

Here’s a link to John’s story which ran last week: 

http://www.seattleweekly.com/2007-12-12/arts/longenbaugh-on-theatre.php 

 

In our show at Teatro ZinZanni, these two sexy, young and vivacious performers usually have some comic romantic antics where Mickael, as a bumbling accident-prone waiter, tries vainly to gain Vita’s attention. In our current show, “Hearts on Fire,” Vita plays an uptight, clock-watching secretary, whose laced up garment eventually gets discarded so she can segue into her amazingly sensuous act. 

Later in the show, Mickael performs as one of Les Petits Freres in a gravity-defying acrobatic act.

In real life they are married to each other. 

 

The interview was held on the Saturday right after we reopened on Mercer Street. We met John at McMeniman’s right across the street from the tent. John and I ordered frothy foamy coffee drinks while Vita and Mickael ordered peppermint tea.

John was spot on in his profile when he called them easily the most physically beautiful people around. They radiate health, athleticism and pure physical grace. 

Mickael’s humor is infectious and Vita’s charm is delightful. They both seem always on the verge of bursting into laughter but their answers to John’s questions resonate as the voices of serious, seasoned and clear-sighted performers. 

“In a large venue I have five or six minutes to convince people with our act; at Teatro ZinZanni we have two or three hours to meet the audience.”  

“My body is stronger and faster than ever before. When I was in Circus School, we would do crazy things - like doing as many standing back flips as we could in a row before the Metro came. Now a few years later, I find that I have to warm up a little bit more…”

“To be natural is the hardest thing. You cannot fool the audience.”

“As long as there is the spark, I will do this.”

 

 

 

We Got Our Mojo Working!

Grateful to be free (at last!) of the confines of the airstream trailer that served as our box office all summer, Box Office Manager Tim Gonzalez-Wiler proudly shows off the new box office.

 

Senior Graphic Designer Korum Bischoff takes a spin around the lobby on Penelope Wilde’s chopper while waiting for the camera crew from KING TV to show up.

Contessa DeLuxe Louise DiLenge inspects the installation of our starry starry night exterior.

Meanwhile inside the tent, we’re rocking. Mastro Norman Durkee tickles the ivories while El Vez, Zinga (Rachel DeShon) and Christine Deaver perform on stage.

Tasting with Tom

It always thrills me, even several years into this job, to jump up from my keyboard and dash over to the Palace Kitchen to taste the next new menu designed by Tom Douglas for our upcoming show at Teatro ZinZanni.

At least this time I’ve eaten lunch first so I can truly concentrate on the actual flavors of the dishes instead of trying to mask my obvious starvation. Everyone at these tastings always takes delicate discerning bites, just one or two and then deliberately lays down their forks.

Tom has designed our menu since we reopened in Seattle back in 2002. Our creative team gives him details about our show’s themes which he takes into consideration when he creates our five course meal. It’s a such critical part of the whole evening’s experience at TZ so we try to give him as much information as possible. Many audience members have suffered from bad rubber chicken at other dinner-theatre establishments and we often get surprised and always positive feedback after these crusty critics come to our tent.

Photo by William Anthony

But anyone who is familiar with any one of Tom’s five restaurants knows that our menu is bound to be good, flavorful and fresh. One of Tom’s fundamental philosophies is to only use the best available in-season fresh local ingredients. I never realized what a true champion of this culinary creed he was until I followed him around Pike’s Place Market on a photo shoot with a couple of our clowns. The idea was to show him shopping for the upcoming menu. The outpouring of genuine adoration from the vendors rivalled the clowns antics for Tom’s attention as we made our way from the statue of the pig up to the north end of the stalls. Butchers, vegetable and fruit vendors, fish mongers - all treated him like some kind of minor royalty.

“Tom has done a lot for us,” said one local organic farmer. “He’s put many of us on the map.”

Today’s tasting is particularly important. We’re about to reopen our tent at our new location on Mercer Street at the end of November. After a hiatus of several months during which we’ve been busy with construction, we’re itching to get back in business in time for one of our busiest times of the year: the holiday season.

I’m late today. There’s weather, Seahawks game traffic and a train all conspiring to keep me from getting there on time.

I arrive to find Carrie Carlsteen our head chef seated opposite Markus Kunz, our managing director and Annie Jamison, our executive director. Carrie who looks well rested and refreshed after several months of traveling and visiting family, is flanked by Ken Brown, our dining room manager, and Kaycee Bernier, our bar manager. All three have been with TZ since the beginning.

Everyone is huddled over two white plates. They are earnestly examining the proposed starter, a mouth-watering amuse-bouche of fresh buffalo mozzerella topped with an olive and fig tapanade. There’s a serious discussion about crackers going on when Tom swoops in with two steaming bowls of butternut squash soup.

“People love squash soup,” he declares. “You can drizzle this with creme fraiche if you want,” he looks at Carrie. “I’ve tossed some roasted pumpkin seeds with herbs and sprinkled them on top.”

Tom is a big bearlike man with an impish grin and a permanent twinkle in his eye. He moves and talks very fast. I’ve learned to be really prepared with my questions because I know we’ll only get a few minutes to grill him on his preparation.

The soup is heavenly. It’s straight-up comfort food but complex with a perfect combination of spices.

Next comes the salad course. Roasted honeycrisp apple with a crust of porcini mushrooms nestled in a bed of tossed mache. In the center is a dollop of chevre cheese. The whole thing is sprinkled with roasted hazelnuts.

“Will people know what mache is?” asks Kat Uzzelle, our sales director. We decide to describe it as “lightly tossed mache greens.”

“Baked apples are perfect for the holidays. And it’s not always expected as part of the salad course.” Tom breezes past.

Tom cooks with his longtime associate Shelley Peterson. The Palace Kitchen is his culinary workshop, his preferred playground. The whole place centers around this idea.

The entrees come out fast and furious. First there’s the vegetarian option, a Moroccan medley of curried roasted vegetables, chickpeas and dates served on a bed of roasted tomato puree and topped with fresh green beans and spoonful of Greek yogurt. Again sprinkled with nuts - this time with marcona almonds. It’s visually delightful but it tastes even better than it looks.

“I taste honey on the dates,” says Carrie. “What a great contrast with the flavors of the curry.”

Our vegetarian options tend to be imaginative and highly flavorful, not to mention substantial - this is not your basic pasta tossed with butter and parm.

Next comes the grilled Artic Cod. It’s smeared with a plum jelly and served with a side of tabbouleh - mint, diced dried apricots and whole wheat berries.

“There’s something about wheat berries that makes me think I’m doing something healthy for myself,” says Tom.

“This is the entree selection for those people who are thinking their way through the holidays,” says Ken. “My mouth is happy but I don’t feel stuffed.”

Indeed the lightness of the fish enhanced by the plum jelly is complemented nicely by the freshness of tabbouleh.

Finally there’s the New York Steak seared on the grill and served with a shallot mustard sauce and mashed potatoes.

“The hearty choice,” says Tom. “Here, try it with this red goat horn pepper relish. The peppers step up the flavor of the beef.”

Discussion ensues about how to serve the relish. Should we offer it as an option and have a server come round after the plates are set or should it be on the plate in its own ramiken?

I am scribbling furiously while trying to take a third nibble of beef, this time with the red pepper relish. He’s right: now it’s all about the meat.

Photo by William Anthony

“After a meal like this, you must have something triple chocolate for dessert,” announces Tom. “Here’s a cake Pierre made over at the Dahlia Bakery. I love watching him spray these - he does six at a time.”

Tom sets down a round six inch cyclinder of dusted chocolate cake. The top is decorated with a flourish of ganauche that reminds me of a mouse, but this mouse’s tail is made from drizzled caramel.

“There’s a little toffee in the layer filling.”

Now everyone’s careful restraint is abandoned as the forks clink gleefully against the dessert plates.

At 4:30 p.m. I stagger back to my car and then back to my desk to write up the menu and zap it out to all concerned. Carrie must review it carefully for accuracy while she makes adjustment once she sources all the ingredients. Kaycee translates it for Christene Larsen, our wine goddess, so she in turn can select the perfect wine pairings for our signature wine flights. Ken will drill the wait staff on ingredients and offer suggestions for preparation so that waiters and clowns alike can serve the food swiftly. (Ice cream, we discovered the hard way, flies off plates during our Chaos act. Not good.) Kat will email the menu off to clients interested in potential buyouts. Me? I’ll get it ready for posting on the web and sending as press release to the food media.

And Tom? He’s off on his next adventure but he’ll check back in on us a couple times. We’ll have several more inhouse tastings before opening night.

The Spirit of the Place: Christine Deaver Comes Home

To say that Christine Deaver is big hearted is a massive understatement. Teatro ZinZanni’s comedienne is as generous with her praise as she is with her laughter.

Tall, well-built with a dusky voice and a hefty bosom, Christine’s gestures are delicate and light. Silky blonde hair peeks out from beneath her baseball cap.

Christine is itchy to get back into Teatro ZinZanni’s spiegeltent. She just arrived in Seattle on Monday night after the long slog of a drive up from LA.

“I’m really looking forward to having just one job for a while. It’s great to be home,” she declares. “In LA you’re always dodging fires or mudslides or earthquakes or O.J.”

A graduate of Ballard High School, Christine completed her undergraduate and graduate studies at the University of Washington, emerging from the Professional Actor Training Program in 1989. All along the way she was performing around town – at Seattle Rep, Seattle Children’s Theatre, The Group and ACT Theatre. She appeared in “Strike,” directed by Peggy Shannon, at the Empty Space Theatre when it was in Pioneer Square. For several years she appeared at the Cabaret at 111 Yesler, also in Pioneer Square, singing in Sh’Bop, a musical she wrote herself. “It’s as if Saturday Night Live did a 1950s show. Great music, excellent harmonies. I was joined by three great guys. We took that show all over the place, including Ashland.

“I left for LA right after I finished the PATP program. When I left, the Empty Space (may it rest in peace) was the limits of fringe theatre in Seattle. Now the place is crawling with small edgy companies. It’s great.”

Christine has been a member of LA’s Zoo District Theatre Company since 1998. “I love that stuff. It keeps me sane. Every day in LA is an artistic adventure. I do voice-over, film and TV work. I used to teach at a performing arts high school. It’s a constant hustle, LA is.”

Cast as the first female chef in Teatro ZinZanni in 2004, Christine took to the concept of busting through the fourth wall instantly. “I love the fact that audience’s participation is key to the whole success of the show. Choosing the right audience member is something I’m totally at home with. It’s a social study in a way. I choose people who send out a great vibe. Their body language and energy tells me everything. People think that by keeping their eyes on the tablecloth when I pass by they’re safe. That whole idea of no eye contact is a total myth!

“My intention is never to embarrass or humiliate people. If I pick you, it’s because there is something about you that’s unique and fun. The right person is the real star of the evening. When you succeed, then so do I.”

Paradoxically Christine does admit to some empathy for audience members who don’t want to be chosen.

Her last engagement with Teatro ZinZanni was in San Francisco. She and Kevin Kent (another Seattleite) created an all-new show entitled “Beaumont and Caswell.” Loosely based on the Lunt-Fontaine dynasty of 1930s Broadway, their characters were constantly bickering, upstaging, marrying and ultimately remarrying each other, using the audience as foils for their fights, flirtations and reunions.

“On a night off, Kevin and I decided to go see a show at the Berkeley Rep and as we sat down, we learned from the people next to us that the show involved quite a bit of audience participation. Since we had these great seats down front and on an aisle, I just knew we were easy marks. So we moved! So you see, I do have some empathy – somewhat.”

Christine’s characters are completely original. “I tend to develop characters from an outward-in approach. For instance, right now, I’m fascinated by women with big hair who wear ridiculously small barrettes. That image can spark a whole new character.

“My idea for “Voluptuous Panic” started out as a German performance artist type. I saw her as a little darker with a militaristic look, but not too traditional. Beaver Bauer, one of TZ’s two amazing costume designers, would meet me over lunch and start sketching as we talked. She is very open to creating collaboratively.

“Penelope Wilde is a smoothie of Dame Edna, Madame Arkadi (a character from a Noel Coward play Blithe Spirit) and Mabel Albertson (from the film What’s Up, Doc?). I love the image of older women who wear clothes that are way too young for them, go go boots, mini-skirts for instance.

“When we created the Juliet character for the “Elizabethan Elim-i-date” sketch, I had just finished a play in LA where I played a 13-year-old brat called Little Eva. So I softened her up a little bit, had her trying to play Shakespeare. She’s kind of Lucy (from Peanuts) meets Shirley Temple. Juliet is a little bossy, she only plays on her terms.”

She describes her new role in “Hearts on Fire,” opening the new venue on November 28, as Titania meets Glinda the Good Witch. As the Good Fairy of ZinZanni, her mission is to help right the misfired love interests that are happening all over the tent. By the end of the evening everyone is paired up correctly. For the first time, she will not play the role of Chef.

“I’m really looking forward to working with Thelma [Houston] again. Thelma can really light up the audience. The entire cast is a dream.”

Now in her third year of performing in Teatro ZinZanni, Christine finds that she never tires of the show. “I recently saw the show in San Francisco and as audience member, I watch it with a sense of genuine awe and wow. I love watching real joy on people’s faces. And when I’m in the show, one of my favorite parts is visiting with people at their tables between acts.”

Besides reconnecting with family, Christine is looking forward to walking to work every day, undertaking a full exploration of Northwest wines, and seeing how Seattle has changed. “Seattle is a kinder, gentler city. It’s good to be home.”

Right Back to Where We Started, Only Better

Last week we spoke with Steve Quinn over lunch at The 5 Spot. Steve is the site development manager for Teatro ZinZanni and he told us about the design history of our new facility.

Once the ideal site for Teatro ZinZanni’s new home was identified, we hired Dave Rutherford with A R C Architects to design a new permanent structure for Mercer Street. Dave designed a smart, shining steel building that met all our needs and then some.

However, a building of this type was determined to be too expensive and at the end of the day the One Reel Board asked us to revisit the plan.

Teatro ZinZanni has a lot of experience with modular buildings. In San Francisco, Teatro’s dressing rooms, offices and wardrobe are comprised of stock units. We like them because they go together quickly, they are very durable and they perform well over time.

At first we took a look at modular buildings that come right off the shelf, triple-wides that we could modify. But our needs were so specific and idiosyncratic that we couldn’t make existing floor plans work, and then there was the added drawback of not finding any stock available…

At about the same time, TZ’s Artistic Director Norm Langill had a conversation with a local developer, who told us about HybridSeattle. HybridSeattle’s mission is to look for short-term solutions (like properties in high traffic areas that are in transition such as parking lots slated for development) and create “portable capital investments,” essentially moveable buildings.

Our current lease with Seattle Opera is for four years on the Mercer site. If at the end of four years, we need to move again, we can and we won’t have to reinvest in that construction.

HybridSeattle, in turn, told us about Transform, a construction company based in Bellingham, specializing in system-built, environmentally friendly buildings. Transform is a subsidiary of Cabochon Construction.. HybridSeattle was already working with Transform on a model project now on display for the next 90 days at Rainier Square.

Transform’s advantages for construction in a climate control setting where everything is automated really appealed to us because in addition to optimizing the number of cuts (and thus minimize waste), we could meet our schedule. So while we were prepping the site – draining, grating, pouring footings, Transform was fabricating the buildings.

The idea was to put the spiegeltent in the center and place the prefabricated buildings around the periphery. A R C Architect Dave Rutherford created new plans that sailed through the design review process with flying colors.

Once Willy Klessens, his son Johnny and his brother-in-law Derek, reassembled the tent, the buildings have been craned into place. We installed a total of five modular buildings: they comprise the bar, lobby and some office areas, about 4300 square feet total. They were driven down I-5 between Midnight and 4:00 a.m., never more than two per night. The longest ones are 68 feet long (the legal maximum) and they are all 13 feet tall, (the legal maximum). We craned them into position using Ness Crane’s largest moveable crane, 550-ton capacity. Now we’re in the final phase of on-site construction of the connecting structures – the main lobby, connecting hallways, etc.

Since 1998, Teatro ZinZanni has presented over 3500 shows to over 850,000 patrons in two cities over the past nine years. We regularly receive invitations from cities all over the world to come and perform. Moving back to Mercer has been the opportunity to create the most flexible venue possible so that we’ll be able to relocate easily and efficiently. In essence our new building is the 21st century version of our 20th century spiegeltent.

So what’s new?

Actually, very little. The tent is pretty much the same as it ever was, except that now it’s fully air-conditioned. We have programmed the surrounding building for a smoother, more efficient food service operation and for cast operations. In essence we took our old building at the Cadillac dealership and slimmed it down, made it more economical and efficient.

Here’s a picture of Steve hard at work on the construction site.

“Now I am a TZ Star” by Vivi Lundberg

Photo by Michael Doucett

I sat in the ZinZanni tent for what seemed like the millionth time. This time I was waiting for our star Liliane to arrive for her photo shoot. She blew in as stunning as always; gliding through her makeup routine with the ease that only comes with decades of practice and experience. She smiled wistfully during our introduction; I the ZinZanni intern and she our leading lady, and waived away my frets with her painted fingernails–protesting any food or flowers. “No frills,” she demanded, “Just bring me my ’shampoo’.”

From there, I followed the crew (consisting of Korum, Lisa, and Miriam) on my little orange scooter to Michael Doucett’s photo studio in Pioneer Square where we were scheduled for an afternoon of set-up shots featuring Liliane. Stuffing ourselves into an elevator that looked as though it had been excavated from the sunken Titanic, we held our breaths until lifted to our destination; a vintage shared studio littered with ceramics, photos, paintings, and a collection of other artistries. The landlord appeared in time to give Liliane the tour of his studio–a world of brightly colored flowers, music, and statues from around the world. “You are so talented!” Liliane exclaimed at the pictures, “you must teach me! I am, of course, no good–but I must learn this from you!”

Photo by Michael Doucett

Much obliged, the artist agreed. “So, what’s your story?” he asked timidly, still not sure what to make of the woman praising his work, “what do you do?”

She tipped back her head with dramatic flair, “Why, I am a star,” she pronounced. “First, I was a ballet star, then I was a movie star, then I was a Broadway star, and now I am a Teatro ZinZanni star,” she smiled widely upon reflection, “All my life I’ve been a star!”

He shifted his eyes in confusion or embarrassment, not sure where to land. “Good, very good,” now laughing, “That’s wonderful.”

She smiled and laughed back to him, “I know!”

Photo by Michael Doucett

By now, Michael had appeared in the other room, busy throwing together lights and backdrops, playing with the ideas of different props and scenarios. His words fell rapidly from his mind as he filled us in on all the gossip of the photography world, the ideas he had for ZinZanni characters, and whatever else happened to run across the screen behind his eyelids. He melted over Liliane as she walked into the room, “You’re make-up is perfect! Everything is perfect! Hands down, the most beautiful woman I have ever photographed!”

As she changed into her dress, I popped open the champagne and the party began. I asked again if she might need anything to eat to which she responded, “Oh no. I don’t eat, only drink,” she laughed, “and at this age it’s okay to say.”

Must be a good age to be, I thought, probably for the first time.

She dazzled us with her poses–her energy seeping through her pores, capturing the lens with the same charisma she uses to captivate her audiences nightly. She chatted through life stories of living next to Judy Garland, tucking her into bed after wild nights of Vegas parties.

“You knew Judy Garland?” Michael stopped, nearly dropping his camera.

“Oh, yes,” she shrugged, “I only want to be surrounded by talented people. I love talented people! How else can you learn?”

“Judy Garland…” Michael drooled, for once, seemingly speechless.

After a few more costume changes and what seemed like a hundred shots, we rendered it a day. Liliane said her goodbyes to her newly established painting instructor as we cleared the studio.

She seemed to confirm herself that day, proving that which she and everyone else already knew; Liliane was simply born to be a star.