The Show must go on (or Not) Canceling the Portland Tour
Myself as Titania in “The Fairy’s Bottom” at the Triple Door, July 2023. Photo Credit: Joe Mays
“This is bad. Really bad.” I refreshed the Eventbrite link; Alberta Abbey had just sent us our first report. Zeros. Terrifying goose eggs. Our biggest night had only sold 15 tickets in a 400-seat theater and we were just two weeks from opening night.
“I just don’t understand the disconnect” I muttered as I toggled back to the Facebook Ads Manager screen. A green shooting star badge labeled “TOP PERFORMING” adorned our meticulously crafted 30 second trailer, which had been playing on social media platforms since August. “Over 4,000 clicks on the ticket link and…NO ONE is buying?!” My own face, framed with pink curls and a fairy crown, seemed to mock me from the screen.
As seasoned marketers, Mark and I knew it wasn’t just going to take one ad. It’s the ad, the email, and your friend asking you if you were going to “The Fairy’s Bottom” that weekend. Then, a Google search, a click on our ad and bing bang bong. Or so we hoped.
More like GONG. Get off the stage, please.
“Berlin numbers were this dismal two weeks out” Mark countered.
I bit my tongue. Our tour of “Bohemia” to Berlin had been a massive undertaking, highly publicized in Seattle and abroad. What we did not disclose on social media was how many times Mark flew there and back, entirely on his own dime, to drum up interest. Or how we had to adjust our original two week run to just four performances over three days because this wasn’t Seattle. We couldn’t afford to take the risk. With 11 peformers flying across the world, there was no way we could back out. If we lost money, that’s the risk we took. We sold out the run three days before opening night.
Mark (Center) and myself (Left, behind the stunning Isobella Bloom) Bohemia in Berlin. Photo Credit: Robert M Berlin.
Could we make the same gamble with Portland? Had we learned our lesson?
The Alberta Abbey approached us about touring our show at their theater. This exciting proposal came when we were only months away from premiering our fifth original cabaret musical - a burlesque retelling of “A Midsummer Night’s Dream”.
“This is so flattering!” I exclaimed, reading their email during a break in our scriptwriting session. “I guess The Fairy’s Bottom is already a hit!” When creativity flows and tickets sell, It’s an exhilarating feeling – one I couldn’t wait to share with my family.
Chef Rosso and Hero at my mom’s over thanksgiving 2022. Photo credit: moi
“Seems like you have to do it.” My Sweetie the Chef is folding laundry in neat, square stacks on our king size bed. His dedication to this household task makes me sigh, I often joke that it is the reason I married him.
“You’ll come with me, of course.” It had always been my dream to travel and perform my own work, since before I’d met Christian, before I became a mom, before everything. We met at Nordo, the dinner theater, when Mark and I were already planning our tour to Berlin for “Bohemia”.
There’s unsaids in every relationship. Yes, Christian is incredibly proud of me. Yes, we aspire to be that cool family that travels with our two-year-old. But we’d already used up his week of paid vacation for a trip back East to visit the Rossos. And I wouldn’t be paid for the show I’m producing until after the receipts come in, which happens only after the show is complete.
This producer/creator/performer lifestyle, it’s the fun gamble. It’s supposed to take us places, pay for Christmas presents. It’s nothing to fully rely on – yet I do. I have. I’ve made it my life.
Behind the scenes with Hero for “The Fairy’s Bottom”
I also made the choice to be a mom. An artist mama, who follows her dreams without pretending family hasn’t become her heart and soul…and the real boss.
“We should cancel. It’s not worth it.” The words spilled from my mouth, and before Mark’s agreement even registered I already felt relief and shame flooding through my body. I switched to our contract; The minimum payment was pennies compared to what we had invested in paying Portland’s top talent to perform, not to mention our dedicated and scrappy Seattle crew.
Should we have made the same decision with Bohemia in Berlin? We took our bows to sold out ovations, but we lost money there too.
After hanging up with Mark, I retrieve a yellow sheet of construction paper from my desk. Shaking with grief, I scribbled all my fears and humiliations: Failure. Loss of credibility. Missed opportunities. All the intangibles I had just given up in a matter of seconds. I descended the creaking steps from my attic office, grabbed a lighter from the ceramic dish on the piano and headed outside in my socks standing on the wet pavement of our backyard patio. I lit a match and set fire to those fears, watching the bright paper curl into ashes.
As the smoke cleared, my earbud tinkled “call from Mark Siano. Answer it?” It was done. The choice was made. And now, there was a week in October where I would, once again, be just a mom staying home to care for her son, with dreams and hopes and humble pie on the menu for dinner.
“Mommy might be sad today honey.”
“Why mama?”
“Because I don’t get to do my show in Portland” my voice quivered and tears welled up. “So, if you see me boo hoo or go like…huh…or stare off like this…that’s what’s going on. I just wanted to tell you in case you noticed me acting differently.”
“It’s gonna be okay, Mama. You’ll do more shows.”
