This just in—may want to reshuffle your Fringe schedule if you were planning on seeing any of the following.

Shows cancelled for the full run:

• Just Add Glitter
• Tartuffe
• The Legislative Process
• Break Even

…plus, the midnight showing of Signor Deluso & the Women has been nixed for July 17.

Further bulletins as events warrant.  I’m off to the Shop to check out Through the Looking Glass.

I just got a phone call from a friend of mine asking if there was a $15 cover charge for tonight’s opening night party.

The answer, emphatically, is NO! No, no, no.

There is indeed a party, however–tonight, 9 PM, Fort Fringe, 607 New York Ave NW–and it’s free as the wind is windy.

But before the revelry begins, what show(s) are you going to see tonight? Any suggestions?

You’ve heard about The Button, right? The Button is new this year. Fear the Button.

The Button, in economic terms, is a transfer of wealth. Specifically, from you to a Fringe performer. The Button costs five bucks, or roughly 5/7ths of the cost of a warm domestic beer at Nationals Park. The money gets divvied up among all Fringe artists.

And The Button Is Required.
For Everyone.
At All Times.

Or Julianne Will Send Your Ass Home.

The basics: You must buy The Button. Even if you’ve bought tickets. Even if you’ve bought a pass. (Though one Button comes for free with some passes. You may still need another Button if you’re using a pack, though.)

Your ticket, it is no good without The Button.

More in the video.

Trouble viewing? Try the YouTube version.

Dear Lovely Fringe People:

Yes, Fringe is all about breaking down walls.

Yes, we stiff-necked media types welcome the opportunity Fringe offers us to escape our sad little cubicles and move among you, the creatively inspired.

Yes, we are delighted to meet you outside Fringe venues, to hear about your show, perhaps even to have a drink with you while discussing your tortured creative process.

But please — and I say “please,” but I mean “ferf*ck’ssakewhatwereyouthinking?” — do not feel the need to call our mobile phones, even if you’ve managed to track down our numbers, and leave voice mails pleading with us to come and see your Fringe productions.

You may be reasonably certain that such appeals will not have the desired effect.

No names will be named here. Unless, um, it happens again.

That is all.

Check out Trey Graham’s post from two years ago on the inaugural Fringe & Purge blog giving the run-down on what the Fringe Festival is exactly.  Bear in mind that back then, this whole Fringe thing was a new concept for DC.  But lest we take it for granted–or if this is your first Fringe experience–give this old diddy a read.

Tomorrow: blast off.

Check out Marc Fisher’s insightful piece on DC Fringe in Sunday’s Post.  It’s about the banal, nitty-gritty obstacles–and, on the flip side, the simple triumphs–that are an inevitable part of mounting a festival like this.  It’ll make you glad that you don’t have Julianne Brienza’s job.  Give me rats over fire inspectors any day.

First, the bad news: In its third year, the Capital Fringe Festival will have to get by without Courtney.

Ah, Courtney. Courtney, whose outré outfits, brassy personality, and shameless sidewalk busking helped draw audiences in droves to her one-woman shows.

Courtney, who last year successfully sent up both Barbarella and Cosmo in a single solo evening.

Courtney who, in the Fringe & Purge confessional at the 2007 opening-night party, cheerfully told the camera about a Fringe fling she’d had the year before with local theatergeek … oh, let’s leave him alone. It was a confessional, after all.

So a moment of silence, if you please, for the dearly departed Courtney, who’s not returning to Fringe — and whose last name we will tactfully omit here — because she’s apparently found domestic bliss in the Twin Cities. God bless her.

But fret not, Fringe devotees: Chocolate Jesus is back, presumably because one sold-out Fringe run in 2007 makes a fringer hungry for another one in 2008.

Slash Coleman is back, apparently looking a lot like Jesus, with an honest-to-God grew-it-himself beard and a show whose title involves the phrase “Big Matzo Balls.”

The indefatigable Hilary Kacser is back, marketing a new show “from veteran Capital Fringe hitmakers” — which, you know, more power to you, sister. It’s nice, in a town that didn’t have a fringe festival until 24* months ago, that we’ve got veteran fringe hit-makers to call our own.

In all, 40-odd Fringe acts are repeat offenders. And 40 percent of this year’s 104 acts call the District of Columbia home. Another 20 percent hail from the Maryland and Virginia suburbs.

Those are numbers that CapFringe Executive Director Julianne Brienza rattles off without hesitation — she’s efficient that way, to the point of being a little scary sometimes — and with a kind of pride.

More stats Brienza seems pleased to pimp:

- Fringe is nearly 30 percent bigger, up from 84 presenting artists last year.

- Permanent year-round staff is 30 percent bigger, too, up from 2 to 3. Total festival-month staff: 37, including production management, box office personnel, venue managers, an uber-venue manager to wrangle those ven

- The festival spans 18 days this year, July 10-27, up from 11 — and even if you discount the two Mondays and two Tuesdays when Fringe will take a breather (unlike in past years), there are 14 performance days. Again, almost a 30-percent increase.

Also: One two-year lease on Fringe’s first-ever semi-permanent home. Which was infested, in true fringe tradition, with what Brienza likes to describe as “fierce, man-eating rats.”

(No, seriously: They were so mean they fought back when staffers poked ‘em with sticks. So big and so numerous they reportedly unnerved even developer Doug Jemal, whose company controls the property — and when a D.C. landlord thinks twice about a building tour, you know you’ve got vector control issues.)

Fort Fringe, as Brienza & Co. like to call it, is in the old A.V. Ristorante building at the corner of 6th Street and New York Avenue, NW, behind a gaudy new Fringe Festival awning and next to a towering white marquee that’s been dubbed the Baldacchino. (That would be the fancy white thing in the picture above.)

That tent’ll be an open-air venue and bar, home to some of the festival’s louder acts (they’ll be competing with traffic noise, after all) and to Thursday’s opening-night bash.

Indoors at Fort Fringe: a newly built black-box space, in what apparently used to be an olive pantry, that’ll be available for rent to performing artists all year round.

As for the art? Well, it’s Fringe, so who the hell knows? “Unjuried, risk-taking, independent,” and whatnot. That’s the accentuate-the-positive approach, anyway.

If you’re looking for real-time guidance, I’ll be weighing in — along with several City Paper collaborators and a select cadre of guest reviewers (you’ll be meeting them shortly) — here at Fringe & Purge.

We’ll serve up quick-hit reviews, explainers, reminders, last-minute news, video interviews, and more — in fact, you can already watch highlights from last week’s boozy Fringe Preview night at RFD.

So visit early, visit often, and don’t be afraid to chime in. It’s Fringe, after all: Unjuried, risk-taking, independent — and this year, as user-generated as we can make it.

*Originally that said “48 months,” but I was thinking “two years.” No, really, I swear. C’mon, I’m an arts critic: Math hurts. Back to corrected sentence.

Next: Of Buttons, Rules, and Other Possibly Annoying Fringe Phenomena