#proscenium

[operafantomet]

THE PROSCENIUM: Left side sculptures

ROW 1: General set-up, full sculpture groups in the upper and lower half. From left: West End, Paris, Broadway.

ROW 2: General set-up, with some variations. From left: Hamburg, Mexico City, Singapore / World Tour.

ROW 3: Set-ups with one less sculpture in the upper half, and a smaller, alternate or removed sculpture look in the lower half. From left: Tokyo, Copenhagen, Stockholm revival.

ROW 4: New proceniums, with no lower sculptures, and reduced sculpture group in the upper half. From left: World Tour revival, UK Tour revival, West End revival.

ROW 5: Extended prosceniums, with more sculptures, or an alternate set-up. From left: Las Vegas, RAH, original Vienna.

ROW 6: Detail photos of the upper sculpture group. From left: Broadway, Hamburg revival, Copenhagen.

ROW 7: Detail photos of the upper left satyr. From left: Tokyo, Singapore / World Tour, Cape Town / World Tour.

ROW 8: Detail photos of the upper left sculptures. From left: Hamburg revival, Paris, Hamburg revival.

ROW 9: In making / preset. From left: Moscow, Toronto, original Broadway with Andrew Lloyd Webber.

(original design by Maria Bjørnson)

[nyphantomphan]

The Proscenium & Chandelier in Phantom of the Opera

[endeavorance]

Y’all I’m so got dang excited about how things are coming along with Proscenium stuff recently.

Lots to share soon

[notbecauseofvictories]

witness me (watching mad max: fury road for the first time)

[clickety-clacker]

Being a shadow of a shadow of a dream, What does it mean to feel or to scream?

I still really love @wishgraanted's lil guy. Curtain Call my beloved

[wishgraanted]

" Once there was a man who unknowingly gave away his heart in pieces to every story he wrote. His heart bled as every one of them was rejected, the pieces cast aside. They all landed in the hands of a God who did not understand their value. When the two met, the man showed the God what a heart is worth, and yet, he never asked for his back. "

" Once there was a God neglected by the world. Their domain was adored, but their own interactions with it were not. They met a man with a bleeding heart who allowed them to keep the pieces theirs had been missing. They offered the man everything he asked for, intoxicated by his devotion and fire until his humanity and their divinity spilled into each other and left them both changed "

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63907732

[jeonstellate]

currently writing the fic for this idea prompt, and i’m highkey pissed i can’t fit these in:

(won’t provide additional context, except that peter is six who kinda acts a little younger because . . . reasons.)

“Happy birthday, Alfred!” Peter flashes a smile that gets everyone, sans Jason, in the room stilling. They know that smile. “Here’s Uncle Jay’s gift for you!”

“It’s from all of us Outlaws,” Jason corrects while his nephew hands over the wrapped box to the Wayne family butler. “And Peter and Lian.”

Before Alfred, or anyone else, can say anything, Peter deems it important to throw his uncle under the bus right there and then. “Auntie Artemis said Uncle Jay accidentally left it at home because he forgot to set an alarm.”

Some can’t help but chuckle with amusement. Children really don’t have well-installed filters. “For shame, Jason,” Steph chastises playfully.

Peter notices the cakes on the table and leans forward dangerously without any warning. Had Jason’s reaction time been any slower, the former would’ve surely face-planted onto the cakes below.

“Careful, buddy,” he says after jerking his nephew closer to his chest and further from the table. He almost sighs in relief upon averting a crisis (read: Kori’s disappointment). “You don’t need to be that close to look.”

Peter doesn’t pay him any mind, green eyes never leaving the desserts that have captured his attention. “Is this one for you, Uncle Jay?” He inquires after a moment, pointing at the cake with Happy Birthday, Jason! elegantly written on top.

“Yeah.”

Peter hums a note that doesn’t sound impressed. “I like the one me and Lian decorated better.”

Jason doesn’t know how else to react to that besides avoid looking at Alfred, who baked and decorated the cake his nephew doesn’t seem to approve of. Everyone else is too stunned to move.

Jason follows what caught Peter’s attention on the ceiling. His eyes land on the unsuspecting chandelier.

“No, Peter,” he shuts down the idea barely brewing in his nephew’s head. “You can’t swing on the chandelier.”

“Aw.”

Somewhere in the room, Duke can’t believe his ears. “That’s hereditary? How the—”

Peter fixes him a stare. Eyes slightly widened, bottom lip slightly pushed out. He wisely averts his eyes. “Don’t give me that look. Artemis will have my head. And that’s if your mom doesn’t get to me first.”

“Jaylad, you’re injured. You shouldn’t be carrying—” Bruce starts to say while inching closer to where his third eldest stood.

Jason is quick to react. “Nice try, old man, but I know what you’re trying to do.” He shifts Peter to his other arm, the one that’s further from his adoptive father, and straightens his body even more in an attempt to hide his nephew from the other’s view. “I won’t let you sweep him away.”

“I’m not—” Bruce starts again, but this time stops in middle in his own accord. In a softer voice, he eventually admits, “I just want to hold him.”

Jason doesn’t let up his protective stance. “Peter doesn’t like strangers carrying him.” To strengthen his argument, he turns for back up. “Right, buddy?”

However, much to his utter astonishment, the boy that has been attached to him since he showed up unannounced is no longer where he last saw him mere fifteen seconds ago. Instead, he’s in the arms of the second eldest Wayne child and is now holding a glowstick.

Jason doesn’t even have a clue when the transfer must’ve taken place. He didn’t feel his nephew detach while his eyes were locked on Bruce.

Cass smiles triumphantly as she rests the child on her hip.

“Uh-huh!” Peter confirms enthusiastically, unaware of — really, uncaring for — how his current position is an unignorable contradiction to what he just agreed to. He waves the glowstick with fervor. “Look, Uncle Jay, I got a baby lightsaber!”

[phantastragoria]

Posting this here despite it being from last year (and unfinished) because I have to post something for his birthday.

[dolorousvale]

(RE?)connecting; @jeremiahofphilo

Wednesday night. Cool, moderately windy, with the moon mostly blocked by the clouds.

Half an hour earlier than the agreed upon time, Dolasach arrived at the arcade—a flashy building with three floors of entertainment that ranged from the classic crane game, to a newly installed interactive holographic setup ‘that brought VR into IRL.’ Rolling up the sleeves of the beige and navy cardigan that her pouty lover insisted she wear lent her, she made her way deeper inside with a goal in mind.

Recalling that Jeremiah mentioned that he couldn’t figure out some of the machines, she made it a point to take some time to scour the place for anything that either looked like something Jeremiah would know about, or seemed like the right level of complexity for it to still be fun to figure out. Or maybe they could have fun with something they could both figure out together?

It crossed her mind that this was probably way more busywork than Jeremiah could’ve ever expected from her, but after how… Awkward? Some of their last meeting went, she just wanted to try and make sure things go relatively well. Or at least, they wouldn’t have that much dead air if it did get awkward again.

She pulled out her phone and quickly sent Jeremiah a text once she was satisfied with her findings, the time hitting close to their rendezvous.

->Mr. Philo-dendron: Let me know when you’re here, will meet you at the entrance. Take your time btw! No rush :>

[operafantomet]

"The history of the Musical-Theater Basel once began with Andrew Lloyd Webber's The Phantom of the Opera. With this very production, the theater operator FBM Entertainment is fighting against the Basel government's plans to close the theater 29 years later.

(photo of the theatre's facade during the original 1995 production)

A few of the not-so-young premiere guests on Thursday evening will probably still have some memories of when Basel tried to establish itself as a musical city on October 12, 1995 with Webber's successful work based on the chilling novel by Gaston Leroux. Among them was certainly Basel tenor Florian Schneider, who sang and played the title role at the time. A good 700 performances were staged within two years before the musical was canceled in 1997.

At the premiere, Schneider was a sought-after interview guest for the numerous TV and radio teams in attendance. He was faced with a new production that didn't really seem particularly new. Nor could it, as the story is unmistakably set in the Paris Opera in the 1930s, when ballet dancers still wore tutus and the singers performed in lavish baroque costumes.

(...)

The tragic love triangle between the sad and evil phantom in the catacombs of the opera, the beautiful opera diva and the aristocratic lover is clearly still captivating, as the short but powerful final applause at the premiere showed. This was certainly also due to the vocal performance of the trio, above all the soprano Georgie Wilkinson as Christine, but also Dougie Carter as Raoul and Nadim Naaman as the Phantom.

(Dougie Carter and Georgia Wilkinson in Little Lotte)

In terms of the setting, however, some compromises had to be made in comparison with the original Basel Phantom. In 1995, the Phantom was able to make full use of the stage in a theater that had been built explicitly for this production. 29 years later, some compromises had to be made here, as this is a touring production, but one that can boast a high formal standard.

(photo of the original Basel proscenium and chandelier)

It remains to be seen whether the new Phantom production can prevail as an argument for the preservation of the musical theater. It has a relatively long run until December 22. The Basel government would like to convert the theater building into an indoor swimming pool. A popular initiative aims to prevent this. This means that the voters will ultimately decide whether "The Phantom of the Opera" will not only be the beginning of the theater's history but also its end."

Review from here: https://www.bluewin.ch/en/entertainment/return-of-the-phantom-of-the-opera-to-the-musical-theater-basel-2438493.html

[andrewlloydwebber]

Imagine the utopian society we would live in if Arthur Masella was in charge of keeping up Hal Prince’s legacy instead of Seth Skylar Heyn imposing his own vision on Phantom for some reason

[dolasach]

​❦₊· 𝑤𝑎𝑖𝑡𝑖𝘯𝑔 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑠𝑝𝑟𝑖𝘯𝑔 ; @apple-caleb

—

in the gardens of a hidden research center, a little girl draws a picture of a sunny sky.

everyday, dola spends her time alone among the plants, save for a single cat that somehow finds its way into these secret gardens. it seems to like her, letting her come close and pet it, purring under her touch. sometimes, it even rubs itself against her legs as though they were already longtime friends.

all to dola’s delight. it gets awfully lonely out here, with the adults mostly coming just to ask her a few questions, or to bring her some snacks or her meal. then they leave. or if its late enough, they make her go back to her room to rest. they never really hang around, but that’s fine. dola doesn’t know why, but she just can’t relax whenever they’re there.

today the cat keeps her company by lounging on the table, making itself comfortable as little dola works on her masterpiece. its presence makes the spacious table feel much less empty.

“mister cat, do you think something nice will happen today?” she asks it. she colors in the sun on her drawing, humming a bit as she imagines the cat telling her that something nice will indeed happen today.

“yeah,” she agrees. she presses the crayon to her cheek, a habit she’s seen some of the adults here do.

“maybe we’ll get some new snacks. or maybe a new friend.”

it would be nice if they did. she hasn’t been here long, but a friend that can talk would make the days much more exciting.

[redrockbluerock]

scenes got some chocolates

[notbecauseofvictories]

50/50

Well, 2024 sure did...happen.

Anyway! I didn't set any sort of goal to watch 50 films and read 50 books this year, but that's where I ended up. Neither number is exactly accurate, and I'm leaving out television, revisiting what I've already read/watched, and all the ridiculous novels I pick up when I'm hungover, but still. I'm kind of impressed with myself. I didn't get to 50 books last year, and I don't think I've watched 50 movies in a year ever---but the more I watch them, the more I explore what they can do and communicate, the more I want to see. As a lifelong reader, it's interesting to explore a new kind of art, to try and intuit your way in through a strikingly different form of communicating the exact same humanness.

TOP FIVE 2024

FILMS

The Florida Project (2017)

Crimes of the Future (2022)

M (1931)

Something in the Dirt (2022)

We’re All Going to the World’s Fair (2021)

It's been months and months since I saw The Florida Project, and I still think about it. The bright and artificial sherbet coloring of it; the dank and mold and shadows that linger around the edges....Actually, I think of all these films in terms of their aesthetics first. Not that there wasn't a story there, but because they all represent such a marriage with form. Consider Crimes of the Future with its fading decay, its browns and rust; M with its stylized, refined cityscape even in the greyscale of 30s cinema; Something in the Dirt where every shot is mundane, or fantastical or both; and We're All Going to the World's Fair, with the particular blue-grey loneliness of the internet age. Surely the benefit of watching a movie (as opposed to anything else) is being presented with something to watch, and I like when directors and creative teams understand that.

Honorable mention to American Psycho (2000) since I'm still a little insane about it---or maybe Corsage (2022) because whether or not it was a good movie, it was nevertheless the most uncompromising, brutal portrait of a historical figure I've seen.

BOOKS

The Rehearsal, Eleanor Catton

Big Swiss, Jen Beagin

Vintner's Luck, Elizabeth Knox

Wylding Hall, Elizabeth Hand

Diavola, Jennifer Thorne

Some people may try to tell you that horror is a discrete genre---I am here to tell you that it's not. All great novels are horror stories, and those listed above especially. From The Rehearsal's self-important artistes, to the therapy-speak Millennials of Big Swiss, to the musicians of Wylding Hall (who miss every sign that Something Is Happening) and the Pace family of Diavola (who deny that the signs mean anything, even after fleeing their vacation home in the night)....all these novels are a study in people experiencing something painful, even terrible. And yet, that provides incredibly fertile territory for their authors to explore the things that come with horror---complicity, desire for closeness, narration and performance, the open wound of family, the thin netting of modernity that keeps us from plunging into something older and darker than we can comprehend.

The only exception might be Vintner's Luck. Not because it's not there as a theme, but because the novel itself spans the narrator's life. By the time he's middle-aged he's committed so many errors, he can't judge too harshly when others do. In this respect it's almost an answer to the questions horror poses---not just how do you survive this? but how do you go on, having survived that?

Honorable mention to Dead Inside, by Chandler Morrison, because it was stomach-turning in the very best way. Echoes of Cipher by Kathe Koja---when an author really knows, really understands, how to wield grossness without shirking or apologizing for it, the result is delightful.

Books of 2020 | Books of 2021 | Books of 2022 | Books of 2023

[clickety-clacker]

Their mask flipped into something softer, tears etched into the corner of their dark eyes. His arms hurt (where were his arms?) but the urge to reach up and try to wipe them away with his thumb was too much. He grasped for them. The God obliged, leaning down just enough for him to touch. His fingers clacked gently against the surface, ice cold against his burning skin.

Everyone go read Proscenium Phantasm by @wishgraanted right nowwww it's so good <3

Some bonuses: without the spotlight + Thespius' veins (which I realized aren't in the section I was drawing but look cool).

[wishgraanted]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63393211

Something I've been playing with while being busy, and also sick ❤️

Introducing you to the Proscenium Phantasm Au; art and explanations under the cut:

In this universe, the Gods are obscure and Eldritch; with Mitternacht serving as the Creator and Progenitor God of them all. Click Clack (Known as Curtain Call in this au) is the forgotten God of Storytelling. They're so obscure in fact, that they does not have a proper form to be observed by mortals.

Thespius is a downtrodden writer whose passions are being crushed by his day to day life. His scripts are rejected over and over again and he works a dead-end job at the Bizzymart. One night, after finding his most recent script has once again been rejected, he decides to go to an old book shop, where he finds an unlabeled book full of gibberish, aside from a ritual that is meant to summon the help of the Storytelling God.

He completed the ritual at home, and when he goes to sleep wakes up on a dark stage with velvet curtains and rows of empty seats.

This entire place is Curtain Call; the audience, the script and the actors. Here they meet, and Curtains proposes a deal; they'll keep Thespius' passion from ever waning, and in exchange he will dream for them every night and act out their roles. Thespius agrees, only to immediately regret it, as Curtains puts him in the shoes of the most terrifying, painful roles. He threatens to walk out, and the God frantically agrees to tone it down.

Over time, Thespius introduces passion, love, and most importantly humanity into the scripts. He begins to enjoy their meetings, and Curtains is given back a name and a small form to interact with him (a shadow puppet that moves around via spotlight.)

Of course, however, if Thespius is rubbing off on Curtain Call, then the opposite is true as well.

At first it's just faint whisps of emotions from inanimate objects; the love people feel for the things they interact with and use every day ..but then it turns into connections between people...a tug towards his coworker Patty and that stranger that visits during her night shifts, his manager 's pride in his employees...

Headaches and nosebleeds. A sharp edge that begins to develop in a radius around him.

Thespius begins daydreaming during work about Curtain Call and their stage...and promptly drops like a puppet without its strings.

Sent home to recover for a few weeks, Thespius has nothing else to do but to visit Curtain Call. Hence where the fic begins : )

Anyways, if people like this I'll answer questions and post more of my concept art.