They announced a summer rain storm.
We had covered up all the equipment, sound desk, speakers, light projectors and
microphones. Around six, it had not rained and the sky was clear and blue. It
may have rained elsewhere, maybe the gods are with us and we will be able to do
the show.
At eight, people started arriving.
The mood was up. Musicians and dancers were in high spirit. At nine the show
started. I hit the Tibetan bowl. Music started. Bach, Marcello and Vivaldi for
the overture about the courtesan in a Venetian palace, then the songs. The lighting
designer and I looked at each other after the third song: there had been a
beautiful lightning in the background as the video of Neptunia was playing. The
effect was gorgeous. But we were on our guard. Toward the end of the first
part, raindrops began to fall; Karen moved to the side of the stage to finish
her song. The audience noticed the rain but didn’t flinch. They were obviously
enraptured by the show. “If the show was to go on, I didn’t want to do the next
numbers with a ruined hairdo” she later joked. Amadeo was delighted. The
lightning struck more and more often. We called the show off, as Karen was
beginning her last song of the set. “Sorry, the weather forecast predicted the
rainstorm, please come back tomorrow!” Amadeo’s voice resonated through the
speakers. Withing a few minutes, the equipment was covered up again. The mood
was high, despite the frustration.
An opening night we shall not
forget.
Mount Olympus in the distance. But not so far away... |
“The rainstorm came from Mount Olympus ” Adam said.
Never forget the Olympians. How could Karen not think of that?
Never forget the Olympians. How could Karen not think of that?
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