Okay, time to take off my objective-and-sensible hat and squeal with glee like the mad girl I am. On Wednesday night after her show at Bourbon Street in Baltimore, I was finally able to meet the wonderful and talented Emilie Autumn, along with about twenty other fans who had bought VIP passes.
At the meet and greet, she showed us some illustrations from her upcoming book, The Asylum for Wayward Victorian Girls, and we had a group singalong of My Fairweather Friend. But most of the time was taken up with signings and photos and hugs (lots of those). I was struck by how well she connects with her fans--she really takes the time to talk to each person, and she seems genuinely happy to see everyone. They say you should never meet your heroes, but Miss Emilie is truly a lovely person.
But, to take my fangirl hat off and put my objective-and-sensible hat back on, I was a tiny bit disappointed with the show. It wasn't so much a musical performance as a theatrical spectacle set to music. I find the Bloody Crumpets entertaining, but at times it seemed like their act took away from the music, which I think should be the heart of a performance and not the background. True, Emilie did sing everything, but I would have loved more violin and harpsichord. The constant use of prerecorded tracks killed it a little for me. However, to give her credit, she did tear through Unlaced and Face the Wall on her signature striped violin. And I did actually enjoy most of the show, particularly the antics of Captain Maggot, who manages to be cute and creepy at the same time. She has the facial expressions of a mime and moves like a demented marionette. Also, how can you not like a show where they throw cupcakes at you?
The audience was pretty good as well. EA shows always draw a colorful crowd, attired in a combination of corsets, bustles, artfully ripped and torn garments, and stripey stockings. I met lots of interesting and friendly people in the queue, two of whom were kind enough to walk me back to my hotel after the show was over. I never got your names, guys, but I owe you. I wouldn't have wanted to encounter that one creepy dude on my own.
Lastly, the sillier photo to which the title refers can be found on my Flickr. Now, off to have some tea.
