Baptism of Fire (part two) Performing the show, the response & the Review

Eight shows! two preview nights, one night off and then six shows in a row.
I never performed in that way before. The most I've ever done was 2 shows a month. And that was with 2-3 hours get in time and at least an hour get out. Not here. 15 minutes get in, 15 minutes get out. No time in dressing room for make up or to stretch or get into 'Zone' , I have to do all that in my room before getting to the theatre.
I'm really curious to see what it would be like to perform every night. How would it effect my performance? Will I get bored? Will the show change at all? Will it get easier or harder?
Will it become like a song that you over-listened to and can't stand the sound of anymore? I didn't know. I'd been told by other experienced performers (non belly dancers) that the show will change and that my last performance will be nothing like my first  performance of the run. They were right. But I'm ahead of myself...

First performance (preview show)
There weren't many people in the audience and the 'Kilt flahser' was there (see a couple of posts before about the first Edinburgh Performance), but I seemed to be on good form, I didn't forget any lines or mess up anything. It was good. Well, when I say good, I mean good by the standards that I was familiar with.
As there were only 13 people in the audience it was a bit of a quiet audience who didn't always respond in the way I was used to be responded to which was applause after a dance etc. giggles and laughter through out and the occasional burst of hysterics. No, none of that.  But still,  that didn't throw me. Up until now I'd been performing the show mainly to an audience of Belly dancers so I didn't take the fact that people of this audience are quiet too personally.
I thought to myself, 'they don't know what to expect and certainly don't know how they're 'supposed to respond'. Just keep going, you're doing fine'. Considering I had a 'true Scotsman' to deal with in the front row who's been trying to... 'inspire' me with his manhood whenever I was dancing, yes, just when I was dancing, as he would put it away while I was speaking, and listen quite attentively, and reveal it again once a dance piece started. I thought I did exceptionally well.
The music on the first night was a bit quieter than it should be and a couple of times I had to signal Caitlyn (my technician) to turn the music up. I explained to her after the show that the loudness of the music is really important for maximum impact of the dance.
After the show, the guys at my venue  told me that a reviewer was in the audience. 'Ooooooh, a reviewer, how exciting, how scary, I wonder if she (I was told it was a she) liked it'. Scanning the audience in my head again from memory, I thought I knew which one she was, a girl sitting on her own in the corner. She seemed a bit shy, and I remember her smiling a lot,  so I felt very positive. Some other shows at my venue have already got 4 star review and wonderful quotes which were immediately printed and stuck on their show's posters. I ask my venue people to only let me know if the review was a good one. I walk back to my room fantasising about a 5 star review appearing on my show's poster the next day, 'oh God, please please please let it be a good one'

2nd performance  (also 'preview show')
No review yet. Poster still stripped of any stars or quotes.
There are more people in the audience this time. This is good.
Front row on my left, nine girls/women. I think one or two of them are dancers, I think I know who one of them is (though don't know her personally) but not sure if it's her. They are surprisingly quiet for Belly dancers and they examine me throughout, not smiling much. A couple of them have a look of 'right then, show us what you can do' on their faces. On the other side, front row right are three women, slightly older. They are having a ball. Delighted and amused by what they're seeing and hearing, they are much more involved and certainly much more responsive and appreciative right from the start, I'm not even sure if they're dancers or not . The rest of the audience is engaged, from stage it feels like they are all with me in one way or another.
The bunch of girls to my left, chat between themselves every now and again. I'm grateful for my experience performing at the Battersea Barge (a cabaret venue where food was being served during my performance), little distractions like a bit of chatting are really not a big deal for me.
I'm doing my thing. The music tonight is nice and loud and the audience is more into the show, laughing at all the right places etc. It's all going well. Half way through the show and it's my first singing number. As I'm singing, I notice a stir in the front row (yes, left side), one of the girls (the one I think I know) suddenly gets up and leaves. She's followed hastily by another. I'm singing away as if nothing is happening but I am a bit hurt, and believe it or not, I'm also a bit concerned... is she ok? Maybe something's wrong. A few seconds later, another one leaves and it's obvious that it's to check what's going on. This one comes back, says something to the rest of the gang (I really wish I knew what she said) and stays to the end of the show. An interesting thing happens, it feels like my presence is not in the me who's singing and performing but in the 'me' whose wondering what's going on, and trying to support my 'performing self' to continue despite the fact that I was just  walked out on.
Another show ends. I quickly pack my stuff to make way for the next show. But tonight I don't leave. I change into another belly dance outfit . There is a press party upstairs at the sky bar organised by Gryphon (my venue) and they asked me to dance. I go up in the lift to the 5th floor. I'm not doing a piece from the show. I'm doing a straight forward dance á la Galit. Fiery, cheeky and technically intricate, I impress the pants out of everyone in the room which is mainly other performers and not much media. I get a roaring applause at the end which makes up for the 'walk out' earlier.
There's a promoter sitting there with someone. I walk up to him with one of my flyers and start talking with him, a bit in character, I try to explain to him what my show is. Defining myself and what I do is still hard.
He's tough. He asks me " what are you, what do you do? where do you see yourself? what's your goal? I start mumbling a bit, "well... "I'm a good compere"  there's a lot of that going on now, and I'm different to what's out there so I start with that.  And he shoots back, 'where have you done compering? Cafe de Paris in London? " and I'm like "no no, I'm not there yet, just starting out really..."  He's staring right at  me, almost challenging me to shrink back and walk away. But I don't, I'm not the shrinking type. Instead I say to him. "What you're doing to me right now is really good. I need to  be asked these questions. Ask me more, you're really helping me here." He softens a bit and says, "you have to think clearly what you are, you know like there are Drag Queens..." I cut in 'I'm like a drag queen but a belly dancer"  I laugh. It's kinda true really. "You'll make a good compere, I can tell" he says "but you have to have done some stuff"  I say "well, that's the thing. I'm only just starting".. "Have you heard the phrase, 'fake it till you make it' he asks. I nod, 'yes'.. he says no more. 'Thanks for that' I say and walk away. I go to sit in front the big glass wall. I'm in a bar on the fifth floor, which has a glass wall overlooking the castle and the fireworks are about to start. The promoter's words echo in my head, 'fake it till you make it', for some reason these words bring me down. 'Fake it till you make it' I try to switch on to this idea but I can't, it's soooo not me. 'Fake it till you make it'  - is that really the way?  'Fake what? 'Till I make what?' .That cannot be my path. I am deep in thought. Where do I see myself. Where do I want go with this? Why am I doing this? What am I? I still don't have any answers. There are no fireworks. I'm suddenly aware of where I am, dressed up in my Belly dance outfit, in full make up, surrounded by other performers and festival participants of one kind or another, directors, writers, photographers, technicians, promoters, journalists, I don't know who's which. They are all having a drink and chatting away.  I realise that with my deep in thought expression, I don't quite fit in. I feel it's time for me to leave.
I get a ride back in a taxi with 'The Harmonettes' , 3 fabulous girls who are doing a show at Gryphon venues, together with their writer/director Janys, and Simon their technician / stage manager they're all staying in a flat/house somewhere not far from me.
I'm weary, tired and I'm no longer thinking about anything. Tomorrow, is my day off - off from performing. I'm going to Glasgow in the morning to teach a workshop. I better switch on to  this now. Have a break from Fringe stuff. I'll go see a show in the evening and have me a lovely day.
I take my make up off, it takes almost as long to take off as it does to put on.
It's nearly 2am...Good night.

My night off and  THE REVIEW:
It's Sunday evening, I'm on the train coming back from teaching in Glasgow. The plan is to put my stuff back in my room and go to Gryphon Venues to see 'I heart Hamas' . Both out of curtsey to Jenny (the performer) and curiosity.
When I arrive, I change into something nice and in my mind I'm wondering if my review came out yet. I'd not been told anything by Gryphon and they are very good at publicising good reviews online and I'm sure that i I would have had an email from them if they got something... got something good that is. Hmmm I wonder... I should check this out. 'no no no, Galit don't do it.' - Why not? I can take it whatever it is. I must know. "Don't!" oh but I will. "OK" here it goes. I go onto the online publication broadwaybaby.com key in the name of my show on the search bar, press 'go' and................
It's official - I'm a Star!
No, literally 'A star' as in ONE star.
The review title -  'Belly Flop' . In my mind I'm hearing the theme music  from 'Psycho' -  the shower scene - shrieking violins playing as my hopes for a 5 star review are being brutally stabbed over and over by these 2 words. Next to the title, a photo of the reviewer, she has the same smile she had during my show and looks just as sweet and shy.
The review is far from sweet.
I only read it once. And I will NEVER read it again.
From memory, it starts off saying something about sequels not always living up to their original first shows... or something like that. Giving the false impression that this girl has actually seen the first one. Which clearly she hasn't judging by what comes next.
There's a repeated theme of how appalling my singing voice is, a continuous rant about me not being funny apart from my first 'Lord of the rings' joke, a small mention of the fact that I can dance, some more about my appalling singing, something about me waiting to be applauded, abysmal singing, then it says that my over sexualized gestures go against the points I'm trying to make about the dance being an art form, and I have way too many costume changes. Oh and did I mention the bit about my appalling singing? :)
As I said, I only read this once, so I don't remember word to word, (it's been 10 days now) but that's the general gist. You're welcome to go and read it yourself.
I breath.
I'm so... shocked I guess... I don't even know how I feel.
An armour comes up. Head and chin up, I'm about to go see a play at my venue.
I realise they know. They've not said anything to me (at my request) but they know.
Everyone must know.
The whole of Edinburgh Fringe Festival must know. I bet the whole world knows.
Oh the shame.
How am I going to go out to the street now. How am I ever going to go up on stage after this?
But out I go, first to the street. The sky doesn't fall on my head... phew!
I get to Gryphon. Aileen and Hannah at the box office greet me in the usual way, as if nothing happened. I say - "I saw it" , they know exactly what I mean and a compassionate expression appears on their faces, 'oh' they say. 'We know. But don't pay attention to it. It doesn't matter, you're getting the numbers (audience) in. One review doesn't mean anything" Bless em. x
Kekoa says the same thing.
I walk in to see 'I heart Hamas'. It's very good. It got 4 and 5 stars, I now start comparing... not good! A few more stars appeared on other shows posters and my poster suddenly seems naked - and that's not just  because of the boobs on display.
I wait for Jenny to tell her how wonderful I thought she was and then leave.
I feel deflated.
I want to go home, home to Brighton.
I run the words of that scathing review over and over in my head.
I think she (the reviewer) just didn't get it, she somehow seems to have missed the point.
I could so go into victim mode here and say: "She's stupid, she's a bitch, she didn't get it (because obviously she's stupid|), she's jealous (cause she's ugly too), up tight, she's not intelligent enough to understand the subtleties of my humour.  Was she paying attention? Why does she go on about my bad singing when 1. I myself claim to not be a great singer, 2. there are only 2 songs in the show and the rest is dancing. And what about 'coin operated boy'? Is that not a great dance? Or my 'Mascara' joke? Was that not funny?
Oh and there's more. I could so bask in this victimized thread of thought and easily find people to call who will support me in this.
But I don't.
I don't even cry. Not yet anyway.
I still have my thick Armour on which protects me from feeling my feelings.
I go to sleep.

Third performance:
I wake up and I remember.
I don't want to get up. I don't want to go to the Royal Mile today and I don't want to perform tonight. I want to go home.
'Come come Galit, you're made from stronger stuff than that, you're tougher than this'  I give myself the kind of talk a coach might give a boxer who's been knocked out.
I get up. Make myself some coffee and check my emails. There's an email from one of my closest friends in Israel, it's short and reads: "what's up?" I'm a bit surprised to receive this as we just spoken 2 days before. But I think to myself, I could do with some love and a pep talk so I text him to call me. He promises to call in 20 minutes and that's when I start to cry, almost as if just by knowing I'm going to have someone who loves me to talk to makes it OK to let the tears come down. And besides, I tell myself I have to cry, I know better than to keep this hurt inside me. So I cry and I cry and I cry... it's ok, make up is not on yet,  I cry some more. And then I breath long and deep. And the phone rings.
"I got a thrashing review" I say in a sad little girl's voice.
"I know", he says, "why do you think I emailed you? Don't pay any attention to this review, it's bullshit! Did you see how ugly this girl is [she's not really btw], she's jealous that's all". Good old Eitan, he can be so bitchy sometimes (well, he is gay). "Ask people to write an audience review. Audience reviews count much more!"
Oh, I'm thinking, good idea, all is not lost. I shall look into that. We talk for a little while longer and I'm feeling a bit better now.
I get on the computer and email Charlotte and Annie who've seen the show, send them a link to the review and ask if they could help by putting their own review in. Charlotte calls me almost immediately and gives me what I can only define as the 'pep talk' of my life. Even writing this now makes me well up. I felt so supported.
Annie writes back: ' yep, that's a real stinker, but I think you're Fabulous darling, onwards and upwards!.... Blimey, Kilt flasher in first show, I say! "  Good old Annie always brings a smile to my face.
I feel more ready to face the Royal Mile and the rest of the world.
The Glasgow gang is coming to see the show tonight. It's bound to be a good night. I will bounce back from this.
I am not wrong. The show goes extremely well. The buzz created by the supportive Belly Dancers is contagious and everyone else seems relaxed (especially me), laughing out loud and applauding continuously and happily
The girls wait for me to come out and praise the show and my performance - they don't know about the review. I am so grateful for their generosity and vocal appreciation. I feel my sense of self returning.
Janys who is the writer/director of the musical play 'The Harmonettes go into orbit' tha'ts playing at Gryphon venues came to see my show with her partner and son. She's also there after the show to say how much she enjoyed the show and her partner as well, he's there shaking my hand and saying he really enjoyed it. I want to hear more feedback from her. But now is not the right time. I'm surrounded by people talking to me. She says she'll catch up with me tomorrow and that I should come see the girls' (Harmonettes) show.
I walk home alone. I'm on a high. Suddenly the fireworks start. I stop and watch. This is for me. This is all just for me.
Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Fourth performance:
At 5pm I go to see the Harmonettes. I run into Janys. We have a bit of time before the show starts and she asks me if I 'd like some feedback on my show from what she saw last night.
I say yes please. I know she's going to tell me the truth. I know she's going to constructively criticise me and I know she's going to be compassionate about it. And I am hungry for just that kind of feedback.
She starts  "You are very good and you ARE very funny, and you have something special. But you need direction (I knew that), someone who will tighten up the performance, there are gaps in this show that shouldn't be there and you do seem to be waiting for applause or laughter which you shouldn't do. Things should be faster, and funny things closer together. You need a tight script.  The material is great. It's political enough (gender ), deep enough and you show your vulnerability and that's great. You could go deeper, darker, more funny and more vulnerable. There is a one woman show in you. There is one woman play in you. You have something unique but you need other people to help you, with direction, set, and a bit of writing."
'YES! THANK YOU' I think to myself. This is exactly the type of thing I need. Someone's uninvolved, professional eye.
She read my review briefly, she was surprised the writer was a woman and was surprised I only got the one star.

That night I performed my show with a different pace.
No longer was I waiting to be applauded or my jokes to be laughed at.
Janys didn't come to see the show again but I did have a chance to speak with her some more and she gave me some advice on how to go about developing this show and myself. Look into funding. Find a co-writer or director.
She says she hopes that the review doesn't stop me from continuing my work. I say  'no, I feel almost over it now. I cried, I let it out and I'm ready to move on. I'm not 20 years old and have had years of therapy so my sense of self is quite strong and I take it perspective' I explain.
I'm not sure what she thought about what I said. We say good night. I thanked her deeply for her time and her input.
Fireworks again.

Fifth performance:
When I wake up that morning I am back to being myself again, actually not exactly myself but a slightly adjusted more 'grown up' version of myself.
My One star review now seems like something I can and should learn from. Something I should take to mind, not to heart. So I do just that.
There is a line in my show in which I say: "I am a great believer that every problem contains an opportunity" and this is true. I am. So let's see now...
What is she actually saying there?
No, I did not read it again. I didn't need to, it's amazing how negative feedback presented harshly sticks in our minds so much better than positive one.
I came to Edinburgh to test my show in the real world, to see if it works for non bellydancers. Judging by that review - it didn't.  The reviewer didn't get it, and if she didn't get it, how many more people don't get it? I wanted people to 'get it'. Especially tonight as pre-bookings were only 6 which meant I was in for a quiet one.
So I made some adjustments, changed the beginning of the show a little, made it a bit more explanatory and a little more involving. I taught my audience how to zagareet, emphasized the fact my singing is not my strength (It's not that bad really.... but I guess if you're expecting a singing Diva then it could be considered...what's the word?... 'appalling'), made a comment about how any self respecting belly dancer has at least 4 costume changes in one show and being a Diva extraordinaire I'm having FIVE !! Yes, that review indeed gave me more material which made the show funnier.

The fifth show of my run was a turning point. It was the best one so far. Explaining a bit more in the beginning and doing the zagareet practice together got people into the zone and well into the show. They were laughing and cheering through out. There were only 10 of them there out of which I think only 2 were belly dancers.
The vibe and atmosphere was so good that I did the kissing song at the end. The kissing song is when I go around and kiss every member of the audience while another track is playing, I don't do this in every show.
What a show! What a night! I wished that the reviewer who thrashed me came to see the show again now. I bet now she'd feel completely different about it.
I wished that some other reviewer came to see show now but that wasn't to be. The thing about Edinburgh Fringe is that if you only have a short run (8 shows is a short run) you're not likely to get reviewed more than once, if at all. I'm actually 'lucky' (ha ha!) to have been reviewed at all. Short runs don't normally get reviewed because this means people won't get a chance to see you because you don't stay.

Sixth, seventh and eighth performances flowed smoothly and quickly. With roaring applause each time. I felt more confident yet I knew that there's a lot of work to be done once this is all over, and you know what,  I couldn't wait to start working.
Oh yes. My mind has been opened, my horizons expanded, my visions got bolder and my dreams more daring.
OMG, the future seems so exciting. I can't wait to see what unfolds.
I will be back to Edinburgh Fringe Festival. Maybe not next year, but the year after. Next time I will not be going alone and I will be going for longer.
My work is starting now, the REAL work.
But first I need to give myself a little bit of time out to gain perspective, then it will be time to use all that I've learnd, to plan and find the resources for my next adventure.
Into infinity and beyooooooooooond! :)