Do you know who Louise Weber was? You’ve likely seen her illustrated likeness in restaurants, cafés and gift shops—in those ubiquitous, mass produced copies of Toulouse-Lautrec’s famous poster for the Moulin Rouge featuring “La Goulue,” a can-can dancer with her leg kicked up provocatively, enticing a roomful of silhouetted revellers, champagne flowing amongst them. “The Glutton” seems such a rude designation, but it was coined affectionately, in response to her habit of guzzling patrons’ drinks as she performed.
She was, as they say, all the rage at one time—the star attraction of the Moulin Rouge—though she would die alone, penniless and largely forgotten. In her prime, she was associated with a slew of important figures of artistic and elite society—from artists Toulouse-Lautrec and Renoir to Russian Grand Duke Alexei Alexandrovich. And now she’s been afforded a lovely tribute in Louise: The Last Dance, a biographical solo show created and performed by Saint Stella (Stella Kulagowski), a multi-faceted performer specializing in burlesque. I caught the first of two preview performances in Toronto before she takes it to the Edinburgh Fringe (August 7–29).
With passion and charimsa, Kulagowski tracks Weber’s life, from her meagre existence as young woman, working in her mother’s laundry, through her adventurous life of stardom and intrigue—including several scandals, some abusive men, a few lesbian lovers—and eventually lands on her lonely death in Montmartre.
Kulagowski’s careful research is fully evident, the narrative structure is solid and the telling details are undeniably resonant. Her admiration and affection for Weber are the show’s emotional engine, while the whole is well-grounded by focused and insightful writing that is both intimately human and historically expansive.
A major theme here is the contributions of women that so often get obscured by our celebration of the men who promoted and profited from their efforts. We empathize with Louise, even when her behaviour is self-serving and self-destructive—throwing her fellow dancing ladies under the bus when their profession is under legal scrutiny and alienating a woman whose love was socially taboo, but personally uplifting.
The title refers to Kulagowski’s deeply poignant framing device—some final film of Weber dancing in the dirt outside her humble abode, not long before her death. This footage is featured in projected visuals that accompany Kulagowski’s performance. Other world-building visuals include photographs, art and newspaper clippings. A single spot light from the side throws her into chiaroscuro relief—a simple, striking choice. With only a chair and a basket of clothes, Kulagowski conjures both a life and a distinctive milieu.
There are also some audio clips that attempt to further the immersion, though this isn’t consistently successful. At the performance I attended, their inclusion was often clunky—jarring ins-and-outs, distracting sound levels. Some provide genuine ambiance and dialogue for key interactions, those could be better finessed, while others (doors opening, floors creaking) are unnecessary and could be removed entirely.
I don’t know if this is in the cards (or the budget) before the Edinburgh Fringe, but I do think this requires a director to help define the theatrical edges here a little more clearly, to focus Kulagowski’s performance. She has a sturdy script and the emotional equipment to sell it, but it needs a committed outside eye to further refine it.
Fringe festivals are an ideal opportunity to workshop and promote new works. As it is, Louise: The Last Dance is informative, emotionally compelling and works well enough for that scene. I just can’t help imagining how much more persuasive it could be with a director and, perhaps, some designers other than Kulagowski herself. I understand time and finances are limited, but I hope there is a future for this beyond the Edinburgh Fringe, a future where collaboration could unlock its full potential.



