The sold out Manchester performance is in a theatre more traditional than the O2 arena, and it's buzzing with excitement. The crowd is a mixture of fervent believers and people who are already two drinks in and hoping to amuse themselves. The believers are quite sure she has special powers, some specify from god but others more generally. None of the doubters have a clear answer how she does thinks. Plants people in the audience? Special effects? Light tricks? They're certain its a hoax, but can't tell you how.
By the time everyone is ushered in the atmosphere is thick with anticipation, and there's an eruption of of applause as she finally comes on stage. Sarah Silverton is a woman in her 50s with wild dark hair and neatly lined eyes. Her dress glimmers in the stage lights and she moves with confidence, practised at being the focus of attention.
"My name is Sarah Silverton, and you -- all of you are my guests tonight. Some of you believe, some of you doubt. By the end of tonight you will all know the truth. You cannot deny what you see with your own eyes. My gift came to me at a young age. It made me different, it made me weird. I didn't understand it at first, understand why I had to be different. Standing here tonight, I know why. This gift was given to me so I could help all of you. I can feel your pain. I know that you have suffered. But you're here now. Let's start."
The show has the elements of any good psychic show -- sick people, people worried about dead relatives, emotional vamping by getting the audience to cheer and believe. Silverton is a good performer, she has a clear voice and certainly seems to believe in what she does.
Reading the show is a little harder. At least one or two people she calls up are plants, but not all of them are. There might be something else to it, they might have been feeding Silverton information in some way, but their emotions are real -- and there's something else.
The show is far from short of drama, but not all of it is just Silverton's preaching. The lights all flicker, dim brighten with her emotional displays. A few blow out at dramatic moments. It could be stage theatrics, but the air is thick with magic. The whole theatre feels alive with it. The lighting bars tremble and creak, the emergency exit lights flicker on and off, and they definitely shouldn't unless someone is flagrantly breaking the law for cheap drama. A few people look genuinely frightened and bolt from the theatre.
For those who stay, though, there's a VIP champagne meet and greet afterwards. Silverton turns up about five minutes in, and she's happy to chat. Some subtle security makes sure it stays just chatting.
MANCHESTER;
By the time everyone is ushered in the atmosphere is thick with anticipation, and there's an eruption of of applause as she finally comes on stage. Sarah Silverton is a woman in her 50s with wild dark hair and neatly lined eyes. Her dress glimmers in the stage lights and she moves with confidence, practised at being the focus of attention.
"My name is Sarah Silverton, and you -- all of you are my guests tonight. Some of you believe, some of you doubt. By the end of tonight you will all know the truth. You cannot deny what you see with your own eyes. My gift came to me at a young age. It made me different, it made me weird. I didn't understand it at first, understand why I had to be different. Standing here tonight, I know why. This gift was given to me so I could help all of you. I can feel your pain. I know that you have suffered. But you're here now. Let's start."
The show has the elements of any good psychic show -- sick people, people worried about dead relatives, emotional vamping by getting the audience to cheer and believe. Silverton is a good performer, she has a clear voice and certainly seems to believe in what she does.
Reading the show is a little harder. At least one or two people she calls up are plants, but not all of them are. There might be something else to it, they might have been feeding Silverton information in some way, but their emotions are real -- and there's something else.
The show is far from short of drama, but not all of it is just Silverton's preaching. The lights all flicker, dim brighten with her emotional displays. A few blow out at dramatic moments. It could be stage theatrics, but the air is thick with magic. The whole theatre feels alive with it. The lighting bars tremble and creak, the emergency exit lights flicker on and off, and they definitely shouldn't unless someone is flagrantly breaking the law for cheap drama. A few people look genuinely frightened and bolt from the theatre.
For those who stay, though, there's a VIP champagne meet and greet afterwards. Silverton turns up about five minutes in, and she's happy to chat. Some subtle security makes sure it stays just chatting.