Vaurnettes take the
audience back to Oz
By DANA
DUGAN
Express Staff Writer
Just when
it was safe to go back out in the evenings. When you could be fairly sure
you wouldn’t be heckled, embarrassed or stood upon while someone sang
"Stand on Your Man." When women had found their way back to a
certain prim correctness…the rollicking good time gal singing quartet,
the Vaurnettes, reemerged from their three-year hibernation. And ruined
all those good intentions.
Known for
their high camp, high heels and "four part high anxiety," this
gaggle of women perform on Monday nights at the Boiler Room in Sun Valley.
They’re almost sane these days—just consider the wildly decorated head
gear, bizarre Bavarian flounce skirts and wicked retro Oz-ish Mary Janes
heels.
Still quite
shapely, Linda Badell, Cherie Kessler, Callie Galpin and newbie Heidi
Bates wreak havoc with one-liners and rewritten oldies that emphasize,
with plenty of self depreciation, their ages, weights, husbands,
ex-boyfriends, careers, and physical symptoms.
It all
began in 1981 at the now defunct Silver Creek Saloon on Main Street in
Ketchum, which most recently housed the also defunct Ore House. "We’re
out living the bars," Galpin pointed out. They’ve also outlived the
Creekside, another of their old performing home bars.
The group
consisted of Vicki Partney, known as "Titsahoy," Mary Stevens as
"Buddha Schwartz," Galpin as "Cheetah" and Kessler as
"Kitty." Karen Hale joined for a spell and then was replaced by
Linda "Fern" Badell in 1984.
At one
point in the 1980s two of the gals were pregnant at the same time. And
Galpin’s son has been watching the show since he was 3 years old.
They last
performed at the Roosevelt four years ago before deciding to call it
quits. "It was time … at the time," said Kessler. "We
wanted to leave them gasping."
But
something pulled them back to the stage. What? Well, for one thing, they
held auditions and discovered the younger Bates, or "Ruby Rose
Hips." Bates comes by her talent the genetic way. Her grandmother is
the late actress and brilliant comedienne Ann Sothern, and her mother is
actress Tisha Sterling—which also makes her a Wood River Valley native.
Bates, who
initially balked at auditioning, believing herself to be too young, said
that "It was a sure fire way to keep me out of the front row
screaming ‘Freebird.’" She also suggested that eventually she
could push them around in wheelchairs when they got too decrepit.
So heated
were the auditions that one woman, a professional actress in Chicago, sent
her resume, declaring that it was her life’s dream to be a Vaurnette.
The other
reason they came back? "We missed dressing up," said Kessler,
who is appearing currently in the New Theatre Company’s production of
"I Love You, You’re Perfect, Now Change."
The
costumes are indeed a huge part of the show. They wear riotous
headdresses, that enhance their Vaurnette names. For instance, Cheetah’s
chapeau has monkeys, "for all kinds of reasons," and Ruby Rose
Hips’ has feathers, roses and an owl for her grandmother, who was a
"huge inspiration."
One of the
gems that Bates has added to the repertoire is a rendition of Brittany
Spears’ "Oops, I did it again," only this time it includes the
lyrics "Oops, I did it again, I need some depends…I’m not
incontinent. But every time that I sneeze, I’m crossing my knees…."
You get the
picture. Every woman—of a certain age—in the audience is hysterical
during this routine. Which can be dangerous.
They write
all the song lyrics and jokes themselves, designed the costumes, and made
and painted the props and sets. Galpin painted the quirky backdrop on the
stage.
Backed by a
band—Jarod Herman, Rick Hoel, Cliff Cunha—that has evolved over the
years as well, the foursome take turns leading songs and being the butt of
the many jokes.
To wit:
Badell, who is a local realtor, pokes a lot of fun at her own career, the
million dollar homes, and the demanding clients.
"There
are truths we push to the nth degree," she said. One of her funnier
routines is a reinvention of "You better shop around."
Another
song is "Midol" sung to the tune of "My Guy."
Sticks in
the mud, stay home. This is irreverent, often silly and very diverting.
Appearing
Monday evenings, The Vaurnettres are in Sun Valley until April 1—or so
the schedule says.
"We’ll
do our last show on April 1st or our teeth fall out and we can’t see
anymore. Which ever comes first," said Galpin.