3 Questions with Diva la Fiesta

The 1920s roar back on Saturday evening at the Armory for the Arts Theater as a cast of characters including several professional performers and one amateur one (myself), bring you The Mysterious Mr. Z, a rip-roaring tale of love, lust and tamales. Taking a break from soaking up her tears with her war-torn veil, Diva la Fiesta, one of the starlets of the show, tells all.


I've heard you have quite the checkered past. Care to elaborate?

What's a girl without a checkered past? Being a talented tiny-waisted girl like me, I always gets looks from the guys, I use kill my self workin' on them bridal dresses for the novias of Santa Fe but after my fiancé left me for a can-can dancer and ran off to Paris, I was left all that wedding jazz behind me, and now I have the gloomiest job ever working for Mr. Z and dancing and singin' for the Gloom Girl Gang.

So, is it true this Mr. Z is one dangerous fella?
Mr.Z? Never. He couldn't hurt a fly! Sheep, that's another matter…he loves to eat those tender sheep, but flies? Never. He is tall, pale and gruesome. He's just a doll—or more like a puppet—with that big blank stare… how can you not love him? True, he's like 50 feet tall, he can't get into most buildings, and you can't understand what he sayin' half the time, but what a charmer he can be. When he makes them dogs howl at the moon and misbehaved kids cry, it's the most romantical thing he can do to win a girls heart. He sure has won mine.

What can audiences attending Saturday's performance expect?
This is the first time that Mr. Z will be lettin' in the general public inside his speakeasy, so folks will finally get to see him at his gloomiest. In fact, it's so important that he make a good impression with the good people of Santa Fe that he bought me a 25-pound Erté dress from Paris worth a small fortune. It came to me by ship on the Rio Grande; you should see it, it's the Z's knees, all red and gold. It's gonna make a real splash at the show. One thing that this show will be filled with is gloom and doom, 'cause Mr. Z hates happy endings.

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