We got the news on Wednesday afternoon. Yes, we could still use the university’s auditorium for our show, but the price had quadrupled. This, for us, amounted to the venue being launched into outer space. It has taken us a year to raise enough money to meet the original price. Quadrupled? As well suggest we hire La Scala. The project lay in ruins and while my A Team ran around making calls and knocking on doors all I could do was weep. Everywhere I looked there was a reminder. I even had a pantomime horse sitting beside my desk waiting for me to put the finishing touches to his bridle.

On Wednesday evening my producer Cari called me. She said, I don’t want to get your hopes too high but…’

I said, ‘You won’t. My hopes are on a gurney covered with a sheet. Rigor mortis has set in.’

Cari, an American gone native, had pulled off a piece of fancy footwork any Venetian would be proud of. Not only had she found a possible alternative venue, she had also discovered a thread of connection between its director, Signor Poli and her in-laws. That’s how things work here. You look for the connection. It’s always there, somewhere

Christmas Eve we went to meet Signor Poli and look at his theatre. It’s smaller than we’re accustomed to, the layout is different, the equipment is simpler. Could we possibly make it work? You betcha. Okay, so we have to reprint the fliers. Okay, Cinderella’s carriage now has to work on a ramp and we may have to prune the painted cloths. But the show goes on. Cue triumphant resolution music.

If you’ll be in Venice January 14th, 15th or 16th, come and see us. Full details in my next post. We’re called the Pantalon Players but after this little episode I’m thinking we should change that to the Phoenix Players.

And as for those Ca Foscari bureaucrats, who mugged us and left us for dead… well, recovery may be the best revenge, but I’m not done with them yet. I think I feel a press conference coming on.