250726 The Curtain Falls

The Last Night at The Butterfly Club

Lyrics from The Curtain Falls, written by Sol Weinstein in 1961, (Genius, n.d.).

Off comes the make-up

Off comes the clown's disguise

The curtain's fallin'

The music softly dies

But I hope you're smilin'

As you're filin' out the door

'Cause as they say in this biz

That's all there is, there isn't anymore

We've shared a moment

And as the moment ends

I got a funny feelin'

We're parting now as friends

Your cheers and laughter will linger after

They have torn down these dusty walls

If I had this to do again, and the evening were new again

I would spend it with you again but now the curtain falls

Your cheers and laughter will linger after

They've torn down these dusty walls

People say I was made for this

Nothin' else would I trade for this

And just think I get paid for this

Good night, ladies and gentlemen, and God love you.

---

The Last Night at The Butterfly Club

 Saturday, the final curtain.

This place had been my creative home for so long - filled with love, laughter, and wild, glittering memories. But this was it. The last night.

I arrived at The Butterfly Club around 7:30. Enough time to take in the atmosphere, chat with people, and settle in for the night ahead. As the 8:30 start of Butthole Cabaret drew closer, more and more people poured through the doors and climbed the stairs to the bar. I could tell the little theatre would be packed, everyone wanting one last look, one last feel of the energy that inhabits the walls. My eyes couldn’t take it all in fast enough. It felt like they were trying to swallow the whole place, to absorb it into me, make it a part of my soul.

Backstage with the artists and the venue staff, everyone was holding it together. I think we all knew that if one of us started crying, we’d all start crying, and then there’d be no show. Dammit, we had a show to do.

The performance felt like a wake. Each artist who took the stage performed brilliantly, and followed their act with sharing their experiences, feelings, and reflections on what the club had meant to them.

As Butthole Cabaret drew to a close, MC Six Inches Uncut sang The Curtain Falls.

But this time, the song hit differently.

“Six” held strong, delivering every word with strength, grace, and a touch of cheek; more perfectly than I’d ever heard before. Each line landed like a beautiful gut punch, pulling me out of my focus and deep into my feelings.

Tears poured uncontrollably down my cheeks. My mind scrambled to stay present, to keep taking photos even as my emotions threatened to overwhelm me. I steadied myself and forced my focus back onto the work.

When the song ended, I snapped a few shots from side of stage, as the performers took the final bows this little stage would ever see. Then as they wound their way through the packed theatre to the applause and tears of the adoring audience, I crumpled to the apron of the stage and let myself sob.

I couldn’t photograph the audience. I’m deeply empathetic, and I knew my cup was full. I cried so hard my heart felt like it was breaking into a million pieces. In an instant, people were at my side. A friend pulled me close and let me cry into them. My spouse held my hand and helped talk to audience members who knew of the project and wanted to contribute their words, experiences, and voices to my book.

But the night wasn’t over yet. I still had Peter’s show to shoot.

After a quick breather in the cold night air on the roof terrace, chatting with audience members, I gathered every ounce of energy I had left and headed to the upstairs theatre.

Peter’s show was incredible. Yes, it was rough around the edges, but it was a perfect note to end on. He couldn’t have had a more willing, accepting, or enthusiastic audience, full of current and past staff and performers. His show was funny and heartfelt, taking the audience on a personal journey of self-discovery and memories, interwoven with energetic moments of 80s music and that got everyone singing and dancing. The love was everywhere in that room. Love for Peter, his show, The Butterfly Club, our memories, and for each other.

It was bittersweet when the show finished. As the audience made their way down to the bar, Peter thanked each and every person, one by one, for coming, for seeing his show, and for seeing him. In doing so, he showed each person that they were seen in return.

I headed down to the office, packed up my gear, and walked down the stairs. As I took my last and final steps out of The Butterfly Club I said a quiet goodbye.