A minimal moment.
Everything's arty if you're in the right frame of mind. I've always associated this type of chair with Marcel Duchamp, but in the cold hard light of Google that notion doesn't stand up at all. Ne'er mind. Pass me my beret, Monsieur. I'll be in the French café drinking to remember.
The manager of the Parisian café's bentwood chair storage area.
The cat known as Boule de Neige.
Here's a nice staging touch. On the edge of a striped stage someone has taken the trouble to continue the stripes with accurate application of alternating black and white gaffa tape. Respect.
It's a mug's game.
A squintworthy Sydney view; the Harbour Bridge and my old office, the Opera House. There's the pulpit, now where's the piano?
Sydney has brilliant bridges, well, at least two. The Anzac Bridge is wonderfully photogenic.
Let's launch some Bollinger bubbles. Note the bottle beyond the piano, protected from potential pilferers. All that remains is to activate the visible laser maze. Construction and installation continued, as did test runs by the processional musicians. Mayhem, but I ducked and weaved and made the situation work somehow.
Backpack vac a little too near. This sight reminded me of an artwork I saw backstage in a theatre in the Netherlands.
Despite using keywords like 'hoover' and 'footprints' and many variants, the internet would not deliver. So I trawled old digital images to rekindle the memory and bring it to you, Gentle Reader.
I've travelled back in time for a TV studio tuning.
Rehearsals for a musical that has wrapped. No one can accuse me of spoilers. That little piano is a prop with an electronic keyboard fitted into it.
Behind in the distance is another similar prop (with electronic keyboard fitted). The far one has been detailed to look just like a little piano. Amazing. In the production these fake pianos on wheels magically swirled in and out as scenes transitioned... with no one pushing them. But would it fool Penn and Teller? No.
Here's another keyboard. This time it is mounted in an actual upright piano cabinet. If there weren't also a real piano in the room, I wouldn't be here.
Another odd sight in a small arty performance space. I notice it after completing my tuning.
A big star tweaks her patter. Her manservant enters the lines into a laptop. Don't worry, she was reading the screen when I took this sneaky snap, not looking at me with an angry cat face. Autocue: I realise that there is quite a lot of choise (sic) of what to do here in Sydney. I am waiting for the rehearsal to finish then I will touch up the tuning before the show.
'Scroll down! Line, line!' She snaps her fingers. OK, that didn't happen. I imagine the most minimal script edit the manservant could get away with would be to update the city.
Aerosmith on the Simpsons: Hello St Louis!
That's Springfield, Steven.
I've performed with someone who has got the city wrong onstage many times. No, I can't tell you whom.
I spied this in a theatre and thought it was pretty cool.
And a bloody decent tool, too.
About a year later I finally gave a para cord wrap a go. I had no idea this was a 'thing'. You can learn almost anything (to a rudimentary level) from internet tutorials. What a world.
My tool is not esteemed, but I was really making a handle to grab to operate a concealed gate latch I have fitted. So, mission accomplished.
The concealed latch snibs the gate open. It's a bit wacky but it works. The hook ensures the tool is convenient to reach when the gate is fully open. I've pensioned off the bucket with a brick in it that held the gate open as required for many years.
Swanky events that I witness. Flowery twats (a famed anagram of Fawlty Towers, as I'm sure you immediately recognised).
Flowery twats, I mean event florists. Did you know that 'white piano music' is a specific genre? Well, it is in my mind at least.
It was pleasing to see that Mulga Bill was among the wedding guests gathering on the lawn.
Let's play a little game I like to call: Art or Maintenance?
The same wall on a different day. Still wondering?
Wonder no more.
It's a perk to pap the paparazzo then hurdle the velvet rope.
Remember the Netherlands theatre backstage artworks? They charmed me so. Here are a couple more. I've scored a selfie into the bargain, it's bloody hard to photograph anything behind glass.
So mysterious and whimsical (the art). Meanwhile, I see myself, my Canon compact digital camera (this was well before smartphones) and my mate in the reflection.
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Pets and Pianos
