O Ghost Who Walks

There aren't many of you who will get the title of this post, so I'll explain it straightaway. Years ago there was an action/adventure strip called "The Phantom" in the comics section of the newspaper. The natives who lived around where The Phantom lived and fought the forces of evil called him "O Ghost Who Walks." Well... the next big hoo-hah that comes to mind from the Image International days was our New Year's Eve party at - you guessed it - The Marriott World Center. It was The Phantom Of The Opera. Once again, Al was gaga over the idea, spared no expense, and all things considered, it was one of the most interesting projects ever. My nick-name for it: "O Ghost Who Walks." Even twenty years ago hardly anyone knew what I was talking about.



Al brought in his Whiz Bang Filipino sculptor - an ice sculpture specialist who did other sculpting on the side - to do the giant sculptures on the stage. There were two twelve-foot tall ones of horned guys molesting half-naked women, one for each side of the stage, and one eight foot by eight foot angel thing flying over the center. Eddie and I were in charge of fiber glassing them and making the angel hangable. We also put rigging points on the twelve footers, knowing how these parties go and how unpleasant it would be if one - or both - fell over. The big deal with these was the nipples on the women. We put some on, Al came through and said, "Make 'em bigger!" We put some bigger ones on, the women from the front office came through saying, "That's ridiculous! They need to be smaller!" We tried about seven different sizes before everyone was satisfied. Then we fiber glassed them.



The entranceway for this one was very unusual. Guests who were willing and able were led down a back hall to a very steep set of steps up to an eight foot high series of platforms that led across one closed-off section of the ballroom. There were concrete-looking posts on both sides with chain connecting them, making it a bridge over the sewer, with pipes sticking out here and there down along the side. There were "bridge facades" on either side of the entrance bridge. In the thirty-foot space between bridges were twenty-something floor-standing candelabras with flicker bulbs, and a gondola was parked. This looked pretty hokey when we set it up, but after the fog was pumped in, it was way cool.



At the other end was a wide and long curved grand staircase. I built that baby, and I took the time to make it really beautiful. Unfortunately, my patience with this was not shared by Mr. Caputo, who told Eddie, "Don't spend all day making the curve! Just jam some plywood in there!" Eddie ran interference and I made it pretty. The staircase led down into the main part of the ballroom, which was draped all along all four sides with black rain curtain, also known as shimmer curtain. There were more candelabras standing at regular intervals along the sides. The stage was outfitted like the cemetery scene, with ornate wrought iron gates behind the entertainment. on the stage left front corner was a raised pulpit cantilevered out so it gave the illusion that the person in it was floating in space.

The Orlando Opera Company was part of the show, with full costumes and an orchestra. I never attended this or any of the other New Year's Eve parties, but I was assured everybody loved it.

As is the case with all of these parties, seen in the stark flourescent light the scenery looks pretty lame. But you turn out the lights and plug in the flicker bulbs and the whole scene comes to life. Get the partygoers a little drunk and it's all magic. That's what I was in it for: the magic.