Viva Sweden

So I've been freaking the fuck out about our one set piece. The bed. Yes, as far as sets go we are often quite minimal. Last time we went to Edinburgh we got by with rolling up the black curtain that was serving as crossover masking, setting two rolling chairs on the stage and hanging this metal grate thing on the back wall. I think we found that on the floor in the space. Low maintenance.

This show has no less than 25 hand props, 3 musical instruments, 2 costumes per person, 3 body mics, and a large rolling bed. So the issue comes up of how the hell to get all of this stuff to Scotland.

Well, the props can go in luggage. One of the instruments we will have to buy over there, the costumes go in the luggage, the body mics go in the hand luggage. And the bed. Oh the bed.

See, we're doing a short run here at 59e59 that ends the day before we go. So using something here and then shipping it is not really an option. If we can use it and then stuff it in a suitcase, well that works, but for the life of me I could not figure out how to get a bed to fold down into a small square. I wish I was as ingenious as Banana Bag and Bodice who, when faced with the prospect of doing The Sewers in Dublin without their stunning set that included 3 detailed walls, a roof, and a million doors, holes, and secret openings of magic, decided to recreate their entire set out of CARDBOARD. Cardboard that FOLDED DOWN AND FIT INTO A SUITCASE.

Shit.

Not only do we need a bed that rolls, but we need it to be structurally sound enough to carry the weight of at least 5 people while rolling. It should also have some prop storage underneath. Oh and beautiful. Let it be beautiful.

I sat here, on the futon, late one night, searching UK websites, actually looking for cots or something to stick in our flat in Edinburgh (we are just a couple of beds short of appropriate boundaries). I cruised Argos and Tescoe and finally found my way to Ikea.

Ikea.

IKEA.

Of course. They have Ikea. We have Ikea. Every country has roughly the same shit at their Ikea. I could buy the bed here, we could make the set, it could be amazing, and when we get to Edinburgh we can buy the same bed at their Ikea, build the rest of it there and we will have the exact same set piece.

Which is how on Tuesday Curtis and I found ourselves on a New Jersey Transit operation heading towards what can only be described as the promised land. Curtis is a brilliant opera designer and painter and he is a constant source of support for The Shalimar. He has let us rent out corners of his studio before for cheap. He has taken me paint shopping and taught me to goldleaf, which is the best thing ever ever EVER. He created the floor design for the recent production of stirring and then he came in and PAINTED IT. He and his amazing wife Julie come to our parties, donate to our cause, and laugh at all our jokes. They are good people. And Curtis agreed to come to Ikea with me to make sure I didn't buy a bed made out of tinker toys because it was the cheapest one they had.

We found a bed. And for my part, my pathetic little part, I worked on Curtis' artist statement for him. He's in the midst of making this beautiful series of dictator-based self-portraits and had hit a bit of a wall with his statement. It happens. So while he sketched pictures of beds and took measurements, I thought up innovative ways to explain the man behind the art.

It was a good day.

And now I'm off to buy lumber.