Scream Festival roundup
All right, all my Scream photos are up now. Go look! Maybe there's a photo of you! If there is and you hate it, just ask & I'll take it down.
A brief rundown of what happened:
The Gala: Everybody got gussied up and danced to the music of Luther Wright and the Wrongs. Pies made another appearance: two were raffled off as door prizes. Bill, who nearly kills himself every year organizing this whole thing, was given a bag of presents which included a staggeringly rare Ezra Pound first edition, courtesy of book dealer Nicky Drombolis. Also, a Playmobil nun.
The Squirm: The Squirm in High Park happens every year, sometime before the Scream. It was a somewhat attenuated event this time around, as original Squirmer Jesse Huisken is in Paris, and most of the other regulars couldn't make it. However, I was there, as were Mary, Maggie, Kyle, Bill, Ailsa, and the worm in the bottom of the tequila bottle.
We went into the park in the dark, armed with flashlights, and read creepy texts aloud to each other. All was right with the world.
The Mainstage:
The Scream in High Park's freakish no-rain record held for the 13th year in a row. (Well, okay, there have been years when it drizzled a bit, but it's never been rained out.) The weather was lovely, and hundreds of people showed up and listened attentively. Here, early in the evening, Karen Hines performs one of her satirical, painfully funny Pochsy monologues.
And then we cleaned up, which went really fast, and then there was much drinking at the afterparty, and then a bunch of us wound up at Happy Seven at a quarter after four in the morning.
It turns out Jordan Scott is not only an accomplished poet, but also a karaoke king; he knew every word to every cheesy soft-rock ballad that came over the sound system. Also, he kept ordering the "special tea," which made me happy because I've often heard about the "special tea" but had never seen anyone actually order it. You can tell it's "special" tea because of the condensation on the outside of the teapot...
Thanks to all the organizers who made the Scream happen this year, especially Bill Kennedy, Maggie Helwig, Daccia Bloomfield, Kyle Buckley and Mark Higgins. I hope you've all gotten some sleep by now, finally.
A brief rundown of what happened:
The Gala: Everybody got gussied up and danced to the music of Luther Wright and the Wrongs. Pies made another appearance: two were raffled off as door prizes. Bill, who nearly kills himself every year organizing this whole thing, was given a bag of presents which included a staggeringly rare Ezra Pound first edition, courtesy of book dealer Nicky Drombolis. Also, a Playmobil nun.
The Squirm: The Squirm in High Park happens every year, sometime before the Scream. It was a somewhat attenuated event this time around, as original Squirmer Jesse Huisken is in Paris, and most of the other regulars couldn't make it. However, I was there, as were Mary, Maggie, Kyle, Bill, Ailsa, and the worm in the bottom of the tequila bottle.
We went into the park in the dark, armed with flashlights, and read creepy texts aloud to each other. All was right with the world.
The Mainstage:
The Scream in High Park's freakish no-rain record held for the 13th year in a row. (Well, okay, there have been years when it drizzled a bit, but it's never been rained out.) The weather was lovely, and hundreds of people showed up and listened attentively. Here, early in the evening, Karen Hines performs one of her satirical, painfully funny Pochsy monologues.
And then we cleaned up, which went really fast, and then there was much drinking at the afterparty, and then a bunch of us wound up at Happy Seven at a quarter after four in the morning.
It turns out Jordan Scott is not only an accomplished poet, but also a karaoke king; he knew every word to every cheesy soft-rock ballad that came over the sound system. Also, he kept ordering the "special tea," which made me happy because I've often heard about the "special tea" but had never seen anyone actually order it. You can tell it's "special" tea because of the condensation on the outside of the teapot...
Thanks to all the organizers who made the Scream happen this year, especially Bill Kennedy, Maggie Helwig, Daccia Bloomfield, Kyle Buckley and Mark Higgins. I hope you've all gotten some sleep by now, finally.
posted by Nadia at 6:58 p.m.
2 Comments:
what i like is that you've captured so many expressions of confusion and terror. particularly at the after-afterparty, but check out alex's face in the background behind damian's dress, as well.
"the guy" in the after-after photo, btw, is volunteer james pound.
-- maggie
Thanks Maggie! I've added James's name to that pic. And "confusion and terror" -- ha! Isn't that what the Scream is all about? We don't call it the Scream for nothing. :^)
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