“I could stand on the stage, alone – without anybody or anything – and tell the story and it would be effective and entertaining and nobody would complain."
Emilie Autumn speaks as she works. At the slightest provocation, she will sprint in a thousand directions at once. In a similar fashion to her career's rapid and ongoing game of high-octane ping pong, she'll bounce across various topics and trains of thought with such electricity and animation as to leave one almost bewildered. There is simply so much to absorb.
“There's one thing we can't bring to Australia – I hate to even say it, because I hate that we can't bring it, but because you asked, I'm not going to be secretive about it, because I'm open,” she says, for example, of the complications of bringing her theatrical Fight Like A Girl stage show to Australia. “On the US tour, we have the actual gate of the asylum on stage. It's this six-foot, wrought iron gate that we use to enter and exit the stage.
“And that's purely because it would be cost prohibitive and ridiculous to ship over that quickly. And that's fucking tragic. But, but, I just have to calm down and realise that we still do have a whole new set for you and it's going to be amazing, it's going to be incredible and I don't think anyone's going to miss the damn gate,” she pauses. “Well, except for now that I've told you about it. Cut that! Delete that! Talk about something else! Fast!”
The scope of Autumn's creative output is staggering. To date, her work stretches across music, theatre, fiction and any and every combination of the above. She's released six albums, two books of poetry and a novel (The Asylum For Wayward Victorian Girls) and is working on a musical theatre adaptation of the latter for a 2014 West End debut. Her live shows are sprawling, elaborate cabaret performances – replete with sets, costumes and backing dancers.
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“I'm brilliant, I'm thrilled, I'm excited. Today, I'm kind of freaking the fuck out,” she enthuses of her upcoming tour. “Because I've been creating this costume for Scavenger, this song we'll be doing in the new set for you guys in Australia, and the costume is just this monstrous character. It's this terrifying thing. It's a creature and its job is essentially to taunt and terrify the audience and I cannot wait to freak people out over there.
“The whole stage set for the tour is entirely new and it's amazing. We're actually representing the asylum cells and the prison bars in this wonderful new set that we all get to climb all over. Even without that damn gate, it's going to look absolutely amazing,” she smiles. “When I started out, all I had was me and some girls running around on stage. Now, the only time we don't have a full show is when I'm doing a festival or something.”
All of which becomes more compelling when one considers Autumn's aesthetic. Not your average theatrical musician, Autumn's work is an eclectic blend of influences populist and sophisticated. A classical violinist, her work incorporates everything from trip hop and new wave to classical and vaudeville. Autumn's lyrical and visual style is heavily influenced by writers like Shakespeare and Victorian-era poet Elizabeth Barrett Browning.
“When I give a show, I'm trying to not only present a theatrical experience and a whole musical experience but I'm also consciously trying to give people their money's worth. A lot of the young kids that come to these shows don't have a ton of money. I don't have a ton of money. I want to take care of people and give them what I think they deserve and put on the kind of show that I want.
“I grew up with Andrew Lloyd Webber, I grew up with Les Miserables and Miss Saigon. I didn't grow up with rock because, honestly, I wasn't allowed to listen to it. I was fully immersed in the classical world. I wasn't allowed to have friends my own age and I wasn't allowed to listen to anything except classical music except, on a lucky day, jazz or Broadway. And, therefore, that's what I love. That's what I fucking love.
“You know, I get bored easily. I really don't go to shows where it's just people on stage performing. I don't. I don't want to see that,” she says emphatically. “If I want to see that, I'll stay at home and put on your record in the comfort of my living room – because what's the difference? If I go out and pay money, I want to see a fucking show. And that's what I want to give with my work.”
However, it'd be wrong to paint Autumn as a simple aesthete or stylist. Outside of the obvious skill evident in her post-classical work, there's a serious emotional heft to her endeavours. The Asylum For Wayward Victorian Girls, for example, is heavily inspired by her own experiences within a mental asylum following a suicide attempt. Her work may be colourful and bombastic but it's equally emotionally raw and sincere.
“As you'd know, my ultimate purpose is to transform my asylum book into a full-blown stage musical,” she explains. “That's what the FLAG album [2012's Fight Like A Girl] is. It's one-third of the full soundtrack to the musical that is happening by the end of 2014. That's why it sounds the way it does. It is, in its entirety, one-third of a proper, full-blown musical theatre score. Because that's my ultimate goal.
“But, the fact is, I don't need any of it. I don't need any of it. It's not necessary,” she says firmly. “You know, I just got back from touring in South America and, for that tour, we had no set. We didn't have the set we've been using for the past year or the one we'll be using on this tour. It was just a couple of risers and a standard stage. And I was a bit perturbed and worried about disappointing people with that, but nobody cared.
“You know, it's like Dumbo's feather. He thinks he needs the feather to fly and, when they take it away, he thinks he's going to die and he doesn't. That's what it was like for me,” she laughs. “And now, I employ all of the dancers and the sets in a different way because I've realised it's a beautiful luxury of storytelling, but I don't need it. I have this crazy, delusional confidence now.
“I could stand on the stage, alone – without anybody or anything – and tell the story and it would be effective and entertaining and nobody would complain. What I've created can absolutely stand on its own. What's lovely is that it doesn't have to.”
Emilie Autumn will be playing the following dates:
Thursday 28 March - The Zo, Brisbane QLD
Friday 29 March - The Espy, Melbourne VIC
Saturday 30 March - Factory Theatre, Sydney NSW