#temple studios

at least three of these people, if not more, are clearly immortal vampires

I thought I never would.

Maybe Conrad because I think he would fit thematically in some interesting ways. 

Three years since Temple Studios closed its doors. In that time the memories have not so much faded as become blurred - still there, still evocative, but somehow bleached, faded, soft, more transparent. The cliché of "like an old photo" is close to the mark, but these memories are less pictorial than holistic: the booming of multiple soundtracks clashing in mid-air, the feel of sweat under your mask while hurrying from one space to another, the wonderful scents - so familiar after repeated visits - that made you feel like you were arriving back home, the rustle of bark chip or scrunch of sand or squelch of linoleum under your feet. And... the emotions. Those emotions lie buried but stirring, undead spirits lurking in your subconscious. You hear the echo of their voices every day, as the show flits - briefly, or enduringly - into the front of your mind. They lie, waiting to be triggered by an encounter with a TDM cast member (as I found spectacularly in Shanghai), or a leaf through Julian Abrams' photo book, or a play through of your favourite tracks on Spotify, or the mere mention of peas, oranges, horses, chequered flooring, red curtains, roses, scissors... We gave birth to those memories in the Studios. They are our children, but unlike real children they will never leave us. They may fade, but they are so strong and immortal, they can be reanimated in seconds. Many of us have been changed permanently by them. We CAN go home any more.

The eyes of the Studio see everything. These ceramic owls are part of Claude Estee's personal collection.

4. Did learning this information change the way you behave in the show(s)?

shut up i'm not crying you're crying