A week in the Tower – Day 1


Day 1 of the week in the Tower began at 11.30am, arriving in the dressing room and hanging up the small collection of shirts and trousers which makes up my set of costumes for the show.  In all, I get through one t-shirt, three shirts, four pairs of trousers, two jackets, a waistcoat, a tie, a bow tie, a hat, a pair of boots and two pairs of shoes.  This requires quite a bit of organisation!  It transpired that the technical team had been there until 6am, somehow surviving on a break of about five hours.  Naturally very tired, they still continued to work hard throughout the day, which was mightily impressive.

As there were still some stage-related issues to be sorted, the cast had an extended lunch break, with our hard work beginning in the afternoon with several hours of spacing.  This meant going over and over the big dance routines, checking each and every new formation to ensure that we were all in exactly the right place in relation to the set and to each other.  For the first number, I was not required, so helped the stage crew put up some safety rails on a raised portion of the stage, but I was soon kept busy on spacing for several hours.

After a shorter meal break, we had our mics fitted and checked, and all sound issues were explained to us – exactly when each mic would come on and when it would be switched off, so that we would know when we can talk backstage and when we can’t.  Then began a stagger through of the show, stopping to deal with issues of traffic, set changes and so forth.  We didn’t make it all the way through, which is fairly normal.  The stage crew have a lot to deal with and will need a lot of help from the cast, which is fine with me.  A detailed list of which actors need to help with each set change will appear this morning.  It also became apparent that the sound guy really has his work cut out for him balancing our vocals with the amazing band.  I’m sure this is more than possible.

Today we’ll be in from 10 to 10 to work through the remaining set changes and traffic issues as well as to polish up the staging issues which we’ve not had a chance to look at.  The show is starting to gel together as a complete entity, and by the end of the day all aspects – sound, lights, set, costumes and people – should form a coherent whole.

A week in the Tower – Prelude


Today’s the day when the cast of All Shook Up officially takes up residence at the Tower Theatre.  The technical team has already done so (I suspect they slept there last night, as Facebook-related evidence leads to the conclusion that the were still there at 3am).  My bag is packed, complete with costume, make-up, food rations and other essentials.  In a little over half an hour, I will meet my lift, and we will head to sunny Folkestone for a long few days in the theatre prior to opening night.

We were there last night for the band call, which was absolutely amazing.  I can’t repeat the phrases used by other cast members to describe the band, as there was much use of sweary superlatives which a mild-mannered librarian wouldn’t dream of using.  The band is absolutely smoking, and the buzz that the cast got from hearing them was incredible.  So much credit is due to our musical director, who has coaxed a fantastically full vocal sound out of the cast of 20 and has assembled such a crack team of musicians.

Today we’ll be polishing, balancing the sound, working out spacing and engaging in the delights of technical rehearsals.  Tomorrow, we work towards a full run with everything from lights to make-up in place, and then Wednesday, we’ll be making sure the opening night’s audience get more than their money’s worth.  Though everyone is tired, and there are likely to be few frayed nerves, there is excitement bubbling up all over.  Assuming I have access to a computer, I shall attempt to chronicle the week’s activities here.

Getting All Shook Up


Once again, I’m on countdown to show week.  In one week, I’ll be at the Tower Theatre, Folkestone, for the start of technical rehearsals for All Shook Up.  This show is an insane comedy inspired by Shakespeare (largely Twelfth Night, but with dashes of the others thrown in for fun), with a score consisting of two dozen numbers from Elvis Presley’s vast repertoire.  ‘Jailhouse Rock’, ‘Heartbreak Hotel’, ‘Can’t Help Falling in Love’ and many more songs are merrily whirling around in my head, several freshly laundered shirts are waiting to be ironed before our first dress runs, and soon more than half of my waking hours will be devoted to the show, spent in the company of the good people of Lights Up Productions.

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Farewell


I don’t know what to write.  On Saturday, we lost one of our housemates (or should I say ‘beloved fellow house dwellers’ as a fellow dweller puts it?) to cancer.  His presence in my life means a great deal to me, yet I struggle to find the words to express it.

Stuart was a people person.  While he could come across as quite gruff sometimes, he loved being with people and he loved making people happy – I believe he was happiest not when he was on the stage, but when he was cooking for friends, particularly for one of his birthday gatherings.  He would always cook far too much, every single time, and it was clear from his face that his friends enjoying what he had made was something that made him very happy.  Whether it was lasagne, apple cake or an unlikely ice cream flavour, it was a great joy in his life to create and serve it.  He loved to spend time with people.  Quality time.

Stuart was a gifted performer who knew how to work an audience.   Things didn’t work out for him as a professional actor, but he used his skills at work (teaching drama and directing school productions) and as a hobby.  I first met him when we were both in the chorus of The Beggar’s Opera, and I got to perform with him in Tosca and in Titanic as well.  There were things about theatre (and particularly amateur theatre) that would drive him absolutely crazy, but he certainly knew what he was doing.

Stuart was honest.  He was one of the few people who would be happy to tell me what was wrong with my performances as well as what was right.  A scene didn’t land the way it was meant to?  He’d tell me.  I was playing two characters, but one of them really didn’t work?  He’d tell me.  But he also encouraged me to try different things – to sing in my baritone register, to pursue less comedic parts and to just go for it in as wide a variety of roles as possible, even if some of them didn’t really work.

I will miss him terribly.  I already miss him terribly.  The fact that he cared, really, really cared about his friends.  The pronouncements that a particular show, or a particular episode of Doctor Who, was either amazing or terrible (with no room for disagreement).  His faith.   His love of singing harmony (oh, so much harmony in church settings).  His love-hate relationship with his career.  His honesty, always wearing his heart on his sleeve.  And just him.  A good friend.  I hope he knew how much we loved him.  Although it hurts, I know that he is safe now in our Father’s hands.

“Are you an actor?”


Over the last few months, I have spent some time filming with Kanga Reel Productions for their next short film, Marty’s Project, wherein I play an irritatingly enthusiastic young man.  Each day of filming has presented its own unique challenges (not least because I find the differences between stage and film utterly baffling), but one encounter has particularly lodged in my mind.  On this day, we were filming various exterior shots, and in addition to the joys of remembering words, managing to stay in shot and not look directly into the camera lens, we had passers-by adding interest to the proceedings.

In one of the day’s final shots, I had to bound up to the other characters and encourage them to hurry up as we all gathered outside a convention centre.  This was proving tricky, as I was far too far away from them to hear their dialogue, so had to be cued for my appearance visually from quite a distance.  As I was waiting, a couple of teenage girls came up to me and asked what we were doing.  I explained about the film, and they looked suitably unimpressed, as teenagers are required by law to do.  After a moment, though, one of them asked in hushed tones “are you an actor?”  I think what she meant, of course, was “are you famous?”, since fame seems to be the most important commodity to the young.    Sadly, for her, I am not even a Z-list celebrity – I have been spotted in a bookshop by someone who saw me on stage before, but that doesn’t quite qualify for big-time name recognition.  I didn’t really get to answer her question, as I was called into action at that point, but it stuck with me.

I’m not famous.  I’m not (usually) paid for performing.  But on reflection, yes, I am an actor.  It is at least as important a part of my identity as being a librarian, probably more so.  It may not be healthy, but I feel most alive when I’m involved with theatre, whether on the stage or dressed in black in the wings.  The combination of adrenaline, camaraderie, enjoyment and sense of accomplishment is unbeatable.  In both areas of my life, I strive to do the best I possibly can – performing arts may well be my hobby, but it is important to me to be the best that I can possibly be in each new role.   It’s not easy (as anyone who has had to deal with my backstage panics knows), but it feels like what I’m meant to do.  Having had two months away from the rehearsal room, I really miss it and am eager to start on my next theatrical projects.  It may be odd (and it sounds unbelievably pretentious!), but I think that while being a librarian is what I do, being an actor is what I am.  It is my passion and my gifting – doing it for fun rather than for a living doesn’t make that any less true.

Quick changes


One of the most important skills to learn in theatre, whether as a performer or a member of the backstage team, is the art of doing things quickly and quietly, often in the dark.  The set has to be shifted, microphones need to be switched from person to person, props need to be put in place, complicated traffic systems negotiated so that the right people are on the stage at the right time, and most entertaining of all, costumes need to be changed, often faster than you would think possible.

I have written before about the excitements that costume changes brought to a production of Dido and Aeneas, and I think it’s fair to say that I’ll never experience anything quite so manic again.  Most shows, though, offer their moments of fun and games with costume – so much so that it’s almost a shame when a show comes along which involves the same set of clothes throughout.

One of the most exciting costume changes I’ve ever had a hand in was not my own.  This was during Titanic.  The actor playing Charles, a second class passenger, had not been attending rehearsals and eventually dropped out of the production, leaving us with a bit of a problem.  Frantic phone calls were made to practically every man who could act and sing in the area, but with no joy – given the size of the cast, we already had more men on stage than you would normally expect, and those who weren’t involved had already decided not to do the show for their own various reasons.  So the man playing Wallace Hartley, the Titanic’s bandleader, was asked to step in, as there were no scenes where both Charles and Hartley absolutely *had* to appear on stage at the same time.  He was cunningly disguised to aid the illusion of Charles and Hartley being different people (Charles now had glasses and a beautiful moustache), but we were left with one moment which was going to be very hard to pull off.  Shortly before the end of the first act, before anyone starting worrying about icebergs, Charles and his fiancée (Caroline) had a scene and walked off stage – this was immediately followed by a scene in the first class smoking lounge, where Hartley was supposed to be playing the piano.  The piano was dispensed with, as it was considered too heavy to shift about, and Hartley’s violin substituted – still, how did the same actor appear at the end of one scene and the beginning of the next when there was no break between them, only a change in the lighting state on stage?

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Dancing fools!


Just give me a chance and
My tuxedo pants and
Presto! I’m a dancing fool.

– ‘Dancin’ Fool’ from Barry Manilow’s Copacabana.

I have mentioned before that dance is not my strongest point in terms of stage performance.  This is probably due to a lack of training as much as anything else (but when would I squeeze in time for dance lessons?).  Still, I do enjoy it and with each show enjoy it more.  I also appreciate more and more how useful my memory is when it comes to dance – no matter how much pizzazz I may or may not display, I am a fast learner and worryingly good at remembering things.  This sometimes leads to a strange situation where a trained dancer who has worked professionally in the field will ask me what the steps are – they can obviously do them an awful lot better than me, but can’t remember them as well as I can!

Luckily, as well as my memory, I have an additional secret weapon when it comes to dancing, and that’s my characters.  Continue reading

A final toast to midnight


My involvement in When Midnight Strikes is now over, and I have a few hours to turn around and get ready for the Pajama Game show week.  I will certainly miss the show and miss the cast and crew, who were really wonderful to work with – a truly supportive ensemble where we were all equals.  In a show like that, with a cast of 12, often all on stage at the same time, working together as a team was even more important than it always is in theatre, and this team really did bond well during rehearsals.  During the final few rehearsals and the performances, it was fascinating and rewarding to see little touches in each person’s performance which cemented their character and made their relationships with others on stage more believable.  For various reasons, I was often offstage and could observe what was happening in the background of the scenes, seeing another level of drama play out.

I shall miss playing Christopher West, so different to my usual sorts of roles, though it will be quit a relief in a way as well – he wasn’t the nicest man to have under my skin, and he certainly got in there somehow.  I will most certainly miss his second-act solo, which was an absolute pleasure to sing.  The song, ‘Like Father, Like Son’ takes in the whole of the character’s life and partially explains some of his actions and attitudes.  Christopher is a very complex character, and I feel I was only just starting to inhabit the whole role by the final performance.  The show’s composer, Charles Miller, came to see the show last night, and it was great to get to meet him.  I didn’t really know what to say (I have never been very good at meeting new people) and have no idea how much sense I managed to make when I talked to him.  I was fascinated to learn that Christopher is based on a real person and the party is based on a real party.  I did wonder, but didn’t ask, whether ‘Christopher’ and the others know that a show has been based around them and what they’d think of seeing themselves on the stage.

I was exceptionally nervous doing this show, due to it being so far outside my normal performing comfort zone, but it was an amazing experience which I wouldn’t have missed for the world.  Beautiful music, a complex character, a show that flipped so readily between comedy and tension, a supportive company, lots of laughs and a real sense of having achieved something worthwhile together.  The only thing I won’t miss is the phrase “happy new year” – I think we’re all a little tired of that after four months of saying it over and over again.  But still, as we sang at the close of act one, “Cheers – here’s to you all!”

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Excited and scared


That’s how Little Red Riding Hood describes her feelings about meeting the wolf in the midst of the forest in Into the Woods – excited and scared.  I know how she feels.  Over the next two weeks, I’m performing in two different shows.  My librarianing will be drastically reduced, as I’ll be working on only five out of the ten potential working days over this period, but this is probably sensible.  I imagine I’ll need a bit of time to lie down in a darkened room.

I’m excited because shows are exciting.  I’m scared because shows are scary.

I’m excited because shows are the ultimate adrenaline rush. I’m scared because shows are exhausting, and I don’t really know whether I have enough energy reserves.

I’m excited because both shows will stretch my skills in different ways.  I’m scared because they might be stretching them further than they can go.

I’m excited because Charles Miller, composer of When Midnight Strikes, is coming to see the show.  I’m scared for exactly the same reason!

I’m excited because the dance routines in The Pajama Game are really good fun to do.  I’m scared because quite a few of my friends are real dancers, yet some of them haven’t seen me ‘dance’ – I’m not sure what they’ll make of it if they come.

I’m excited because When Midnight Strikes gives me the opportunity to portray a complex character with three dimensions with a true dramatic arc.  I’m scared because I don’t want to overplay the emotions and ruin the drama.

I’m excited because the shows both seem to be coming together well.  I’m scared because I always am at this stage in proceedings.

Above all, though, I’m excited.  Excited because performing is my passion. Excited to sing songs old and new.  Excited to jive, tango and do some comedy character-based dance. Excited to have the chance to portray two such different people.  Excited to be working alongside some good friends and some amazingly talented people who truly blow me away (there is, I hasten to add, definite overlap between these two categories). Excited to use the gifts I’ve been given to entertain. Excited to be heading back on to stage.

Well…excited and scared!

Singing Librarian flashbacks: Shouting!


One of my favourite lines in The Pajama Game comes from the female chorus during one of the songs.  The leading lady has been denying that she has feelings for the factory’s new superintendent (in a musical, a sure and certain sign that she most certainly does have feelings for him) and states “When I fall in love, there’ll be no doubt about it, cuz you will know from the way that I shout it!”  The girls wait for the slightest of moments and respond “You’re shouting…”  It makes me smile every time.  And shouting has become something that my stage personae do an awful lot of.

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