Carnival of Psychos was insane. People left speaking gibberish.
The carnival opera brain melt wheeled into Oakland like a runaway train. Civilians stood outside on the street, mouths agape—no one knew what to expect. Playing your hometown crowd always feels like sitting in a warm rollercoaster seat. It’s comfortable and questionable. Thursday night is a blur. Friday night was unhinged. Whether people showed up for opera or circus music, or silhouettes on overhead projectors, they showed up in droves; and they were loud and raucous, like a hometown crowd should be. They also donated $150 to my tuba player Johanna Klapstein whose car was broken into during our Thursday night performance. She lost a tuba, trombone and trumpet with a combined worth of a sickening amount of money.
The California Ballroom was the biggest venue I’ve ever booked. It had the fewest lighting options for the stage and it was the most acoustically challenging. But it also had a functioning disco ball we turned on during the Big Death Dance scene (the scene where vultures and carnies fight over the insane). One girl started dancing.
From a short poll with people under 16, Carnival of Psychos has become a Samson Y Hiss favorite. A couple of people walked out halfway through the show, and one sent me a long email of feedback, which I quickly read and trashed. Everyone else stayed, ate pickles out of a jar and left a little crazier than when they came.
The size of the cast and band have proven too large and pricey to tour. Carnival of Psychos will be visiting your city in your dreams.
Speaking of expensive, I ran out of money for a photographer and had to drum up free labor from a local high school to take pictures. Here are a few snaps of the madness. Pictures by Drake B.
The insane asylum in silhouette. The institution that inspired the whole show.
Tumbling tenor, Adam Green as Patient 51 in a straight jacket by costume maker, Hunny Bunny.
Tantamount tenor, Alex Taite as Manhattan and his trusty lab assistant, Stewart Parkinson, begin experimenting on Patient 51.
Rita Dieola from Italy made the silhouettes. Jess Nguyen from Oakland, above, made them squirm.
Manic mezzo-soprano, Nina Jones as Joplin could be heard on the third floor of the building.
The band of carnies: Paul Dab on electric organ, Jordon Dabney on sax and Johanna Klapstein on tuba.
Magical magician, Reneé Sedliar showing off one of many confounding magic tricks.
One of the more colorful faces of the elegant and dangerous, Dizzy From Earlier. Burlesque anyone?
Vultures feed on the dead as well as the young. Young Esme is the cartwheel queen.
A poetic lament from Adam Green as Patient 51.
A return to the insane asylum was inevitable, as was the craziness that ensued.
HAHAHAHAHA! What’s so funny?
Thank you to all the free and coerced labor who helped stage Carnival of Psychos in Oakland. You know who you are. Wheeling into Oakland with a carnival opera with silhouettes was a gamble. And a bet I’d take again and again. One last thing, not pictured here, the opening act for Thursday night was the one-man band, Modus, Opera & Eye. An insanely talented musician. The opening act for Friday night was a recording of the album Rob Reich Swings Left by the late Rob Reich. RIP, my first friend in the circus.
See you next time, you psssychos.
-Samson
