One Final Performance

My hands are shaking and my head feels weirdly fuzzy. 

Good grief. Is this stage fright? I haven’t had stage fright for years! To be perfectly honest, I didn’t think I could get it anymore. When you’ve been performing as long as I have, each show feels old hat, run-of-the-mill, like you’re flogging a dead horse. I’ve had to ramp up the drama each time just to keep it exciting for myself in the last few years. 

That’s the real reason I’m retiring, I guess. I’ve been telling myself that it’s because I’m just getting too old to go through all the rigmarole each time but I think - if I’m being totally honest with myself - it’s because I’m bored. I miss the excitement of the early performances, the jitters before each one and the nervous wait to see what the public thought of me afterwards. Maybe I should retire more often though; this trembling anticipation feels just like it used to and I feel like I’ve been given a new lease of life! 

I can’t change my mind though. I’ve already announced that I’m retiring to the world; I’m expecting my biggest audience tonight because of it. I think some of my more hardcore fans had started to guess that I was reaching this point but the announcement was still met with shock by the public. It even got into the paper! 

Really, I should be used to the press by now. My fame has grown dramatically since my first few shows. Barely anyone was even aware of them at the time - just me and the cameras in my old basement making art. I released the footage onto the internet of course but it took a while for anyone to take me seriously. I guess partly because it’s so hard to explain what I do - you can’t put it neatly into any one box. It’s performance art; that’s how I think of it. Live streaming or pre-recorded streaming depending on my mood. I’ve got the patter down and sometimes I even talk about current events, if I think my opinion is worth sharing. There’s the actual sculpture at the end of it of course but I like to think it’s not just a guy sitting and creating. But this is what I mean about it being hard to pigeonhole. It definitely took a while for the critics to work out what I was doing. Actually, I still have my first printed review on my wall. 

Yes, I know how that sounds. it’s a bit lame, especially as - in reality - I have them all. All cut out and stuck on a big cork board. I’ve always thought that framing them was a bit much but I couldn’t bear to have them tucked out of sight in a raggedy scrapbook either. I mean, I keep it in the workshop, behind the cameras. I don’t wanna be that guy, y’know? You know the one. Gets a little bit of celebrity and then when you visit, you have to read the highlights of his career on the back of the door when you use the toilet. I try to be humble about it even though, if I had to be completely honest? I love the fame and the attention. It’s not why I do it - I love my art so much that I’d make it in private if I had to - but it definitely factors in. It’s part of why I keep going bigger and grander. I don’t need approval or anything but it’s nice to have it. I know what I do can be quite love or hate. Divisive, I’ve been called. But still, I like the reviews. 

They really push me creatively, I think. The first ever one - gosh, I could quote it word for word - criticised my studio. ‘Dingy’ was the term they used. If I was less open to constructive criticism, I might have ignored it or gotten angry. I did neither. C’mon - they had me dead to rights. It was pretty dingy. I’d been so focused on the art itself that I hadn’t paid any attention to the background. But when you’re making a show, you have to consider these things. Within a week or so, I’d spruced it up and had a whole updated backdrop. It’s evolved over the years and now looks (I like to think) very professional. I even got a green screen a couple of years ago and played with some effects but that was a bit of a divergence from my usual creative output. I haven’t used it for a while; sometimes gimmicks can take away from the core performance and I just don’t think I need it. The reviews have certainly always focused on the meat of the production - I don’t think the viewers care too much about frippery and props. 

Tonight’s show will be live streamed and I’ve really tried to focus on what my fans might want. I’ve gone back to my earlier work and pulled some inspiration from it. I’m quite nervous about that actually. I’ve put so much effort into dropping the little Easter Eggs and I just hope that the true fans pick up on them. So, right, for example: in my very first show, I included a beautiful fleur-de-lis pattern in the lip of the final piece. In tonight’s, I’m planning on using the same pattern as a repeated motif. I was looking at the first few tapes that I made and it just clicked for me. I thought: oh yeah. That’s gotta go in. My followers will love that. But what if they don’t? What if they miss it? Ugh. I don’t usually overthink things so much, I promise. 

Let me tell you, though - I have put so much work into the setup of tonight. Once I said that this was my last hurrah, the advertising took care of itself but I have spent hours making sure the camera angles are right and that all my tools are in place. I’m not going to have anything go wrong. I did a practice run through last night, unrecorded of course. I didn’t use proper materials or anything but I carved and sculpted just the way I will tonight. The piece I produced was substandard but it gave me a good idea of timings and lighting needs. So much effort! I hope the fans like it. 

Gosh, look at the time. I’m scheduled to be on at 8 on the dot and it’s two minutes before. Okay. Deep breath. You can do this. You’re gonna kill it! 

My co-performer tonight is an absolute star. One of my earliest critics, actually, way back when. I think she was Governor at the time, pretty small fry but did not get my work at all. She’s the Vice President now and it was difficult to get her, I can tell you that! Hopefully worth it though. I’ve never had anyone quite so famous on my show before but, I figured, you’ve got to go out on a bang, right? I mean, I’ve had so many people in with me over the years and some were actually pretty well-known. They definitely got a boost in their ratings after appearing on my show. Even the ‘normal’ people became household names for a while. But I can’t have just anyone pulled off the street for a show of this scale. 

She’s already in place when I walk in and I can’t help but be pleased. It makes a statement, I think, that the second most powerful person in the country is sitting, waiting for me. The cameras have been rolling for ten minutes already and I don’t look at the viewer number on the laptop screen. If it’s too low, I’ll just be sad and I don’t want my final performance to be tinged with that. On the other hand, if it’s way higher than I expect, I might get giddy and make mistakes. I want this to be perfect - no slip ups and no stuttering. The script has been written for months and I’ve been over it a hundred times. No call for adrenaline or cockiness to cause a last minute change. 

My work area is lit beautifully so that the viewers can watch every part and the clean, white lines of the bench and surrounding area mean that the focus will be entirely on the art and the process. And me. Of course, me. 

The butterflies creep up my throat once again but I look dead into the camera and all my apprehension melts away. I’m good at what I do and I love it. Tonight’s show is going to be the best I’ve ever done and I don’t need to be nervous at all. 

The VP is strapped in and the gag hasn’t shifted in the twenty minutes she’s been alone so that’s a good start. There’s only a little blood at the bonds at her wrists so even though she’s struggled, the new cloth I’m using is doing its job. I hate it when the raw material is blemished before I even begin. Her eyes go wide when she sees me and I have to congratulate myself on the black coat choice. Combined with the mask, it’s having the desired effect. I see the moment she understands exactly which show she’s on - a spark dying in her eyes. It’s delicious. 

I raise my arms in an elaborate flourish. “Friends, companions and new souls: welcome.” I select my first instrument, making it appear that I’m choosing it in the moment, weighing my options when in reality, I know exactly which tools I’m going to use and the order in which I shall use them. Like I said, this has been planned with precision for months. The audience don’t know that though. Oh, the theatrics!

It will be at least half an hour before the sirens get close enough for me to hear and that’s if the idiot constabulary actually deduce the clues at the speed I think they will. I’m hoping they’ll burst in just after the climax of the piece and will provide a special twist for my audience. Thirty minutes at least though. That’s more than enough time for me to produce my magnum opus. 

The thrill of my work runs through me for the first time in a while and I know I’ve made the right choice. Retiring on this kind of high is a perfect way to end my career and gosh, what a finale. 

The VP begins to scream bloody murder behind her gag and I savour the sound for the very last time. The terror in her eyes is like a fine wine and I drink it in greedily, knowing this is my final sip.

I lift the scalpel and let the light catch it. The fans will be going wild at that. This is, after all, as much for them as it is for me.

I turn so that I’m addressing both the struggling, weeping canvas and the silent, attentive camera.

“Shall we begin?”