I can do this!


As part of my mission  to change my worldview from ‘the Singing Librarian sucks’ to something rather more positive, this post is a record of some of my achievements – apparently, I’m rather too good at downplaying them.  So in some ways, the post is more for me than it is for anyone who might happen to read it.  Normal service will be resumed shortly, potentially consisting of musings on rehearsals, an examination of why I like Cabaret and some gushing about modern theatrical composers.  But for the moment, there’s this.

I can sing.  I can act.  I may not be a dancer, but I can remember routines very well indeed.

Sometimes, talking about my hobby (which is really more than that, as I pour so much of my time and energy into it), people will ask about the roles I play and comment that I must be good to get so many good parts.  I tend to shrug this off – in the circles where I move, men who are willing and available to perform are few and far between, and even fewer of those can carry a tune.  The proof of the pudding is in the eating.  And the proof of the casting is in the performing.  I hate to watch myself perform, so I now turn to others for proof that this is something I am good at.

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Changing my mind


Recently, it seems as though the universe, or God, or a strange conspiracy, is trying to get a message to me, and that message is that my mental habits need to be broken.  Warning: serious introspection ahead, and proof that a friend’s assertion that I say things on my blog which I’d never say face to face is indeed true.

I have written before about how hard I find it to take a compliment, and that has not changed (in fact, looking back at that post, I fear I’ve become worse).  There is a loud voice inside that says “yes, maybe, but…”  For example, if someone tells me they enjoyed a performance of mine, I immediately draw up a mental list of reasons why they are wrong (any wrong notes, mispronounced words, moments where the character wasn’t clear, fumbled danced steps, mis-timed breathing, awkward arm movements and so on ad infinitum), a list of people who could have done it better and probably a list of reasons why that person is biased, ill-informed or otherwise not the best person to make that judgement.  This extends to other areas of my life as well.  I am very quick to decide that things are my fault, frequently call myself stupid and tend to say “I can’t do this” at least once every day.  I am always perhaps too aware of the need for improvement in my theatrical endeavours, of failings in my professional life, of ways in which I am socially awkward, and I have a tendency to look in the mirror and despair.

It has been pointed out to me many times that all of this is not healthy, particularly for someone with a history of mental illness (past downward spirals have had serious Consequences).  Recently, a peculiar combination of a few blows to my ego from external sources and a surge in unsolicited encouragement has convinced me that I need to do something about it.  I have been told good things about myself, sometimes very forcefully, but the mental habits explained above mean that this isn’t generally very effective.  I have also been reminded that I should try to see myself as God sees me.  I don’t know what He thinks about my exploits on stage (other than that He’s probably very pleased that I enjoy it), but I should know that in Him I am deeply loved and treasured.  This is something that I believe, but don’t really seem to accept.

I vow to now start living up and mean just what I say
Making resolutions, you must hold on fast…
Made my resolution now the die is cast,
I will succeed!

‘Resolutions’ from When Midnight Strikes, Charles Miller and Kevin Hammonds

It’s a little late for New Year’s Resolutions, so I’m starting small with a New Week’s Resolution.  For the next seven days, I am not allowed to say anything negative about myself, or utter the words “I can’t do this”.  I’m not sure how well I’ll manage, even for just seven days, and I know it won’t transform my life instantly, but I’m pretty sure that  it will help.  Maybe not saying these things will mean that I think them less as well.  It is, at the very least, a start.

Other steps are needed to change the way my words and thoughts about myself run, and will require the help of God, people and time. But this is something I can do right now. And after I succeed with one week, I can aim for longer, until eventually I build new mental habits that are less destructive. And that is a good way to change your mind!

Bad vibrations


I’m picking up bad vibrations.
They’re giving me palpitations:
Bad, bad, bad, bad vibrations!

Yes, the sparkly new learning centre has turned against me, clearly determined to drive me away.  For the past few weeks, the floor in my office has been vibrating, sending shudders through my desk, my chair and my body, and sometimes causing the shelves behind me to rattle.  Some of my colleagues have also been experiencing the vibrations, though some of them are only aware of the phenomenon when it visibly affects an inanimate object, such as causing water bottles to shake or computer monitors to jiggle from side to side.  And those who are aware of the vibrations react differently.  Unfortunately, I seem to be particularly sensitive to them.

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Brief encounters


The festive season can mean so many things – connecting with family and friends, enjoying good company and good food, reflecting on the birth of our saviour, singing seasonal songs and filling up endless recycling bags with brightly coloured paper.  This year, it included a small dose of strangers on trains.

I don’t drive, and am unlikely ever to do so, as the thought frankly terrifies me.  Thus, I tend to rely on the great British public transport system to get me from A to B when B is not within walking distance of A.  Thankfully, Kent is blessed with a decent (though not always timely) bus network, meaning that I can zoom around the county to rehearsals and performances with relatively little difficulty.  Longer distances tend to mean the train, largely because the Victoria Bus Station makes me want to cry.  This year, I made a few train journeys during the twelve days of Christmas, and had two very different encounters as I did so.

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In/out/in/out, shake us all about…


Last year, I wrote about the general inability this country has to cope with snow.  It appears that we have learned little, if anything from the experience and our recent attack of the frozen white stuff has caused even more confusion and problems than the last.  Partly this is down to a lack of snow-related infrastructure  and contingency – unlike places where heavy snow is a frequent event, our train tracks can’t cope with ice, our cars lack winter tyres and even main roads can quickly become impassable.

Just like everywhere else, the shiny new learning centre was affected by the turn in the weather.  On the first day of snow, a number of staff left early in order not to miss the last busses and trains to their various home towns, then many of them found themselves unable to get in on either the second or third day due to the public transport system running away and whimpering in a corner somewhere.  However, a large number of staff did manage to attend, and services were able to run as normal.  But the general air of panic which seemed to sweep the country (even in areas like mine which were not so seriously affected) meant that before long, services could not continue as usual after all.  The whole university was closed at 12 noon on the Friday (the third day of snow), to reopen after the weekend, much to the surprise of the throng of library staff who were merrily getting on with our various tasks.  Still, we didn’t complain too much, to be honest – I, for one, loved the snowy walk with the dogs which the free afternoon allowed me to take.

Then the confusion set in.

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One year later


It is a really amazing thought that it is a year ago today that Ben Mills first asked the audience what to do with the lamp, rubbed it and received a visitation from a librarian in an alarmingly revealing costume.  Yes, Aladdin opened a year ago, and what a year it has been, both on stage and off.

Such a lot has happened over the past twelve months, much of it never mentioned here.  Many things have had more significance than you might expect, such as the arrival of carpet in various rooms of the house (bedrooms, front room, hall, stairs and landing) which really helped make it feel like home.  More major life changes have included the move from the old Library of Doom to the sparkly new building which I am coming to think of as the Learning Centre of Farce.  There have been some very good times and some very bad times – there have been points during the last 12 months when I’ve been proud of myself and others where I’ve been ashamed.

In theatrical terms, the year has been varied and exciting.  Continue reading

Striking Midnight


In addition to racing with the clock in The Pajama Game, I am also rehearsing for another production which couldn’t be more different, at least as far as musical theatre goes.  The other project is a much more recent musical called When Midnight Strikes, a 12-character affair set on the night of the party of parties, as 1999 became 2000.  By Charles Miller and Kevin Hammonds, it features broad comedy and emotional drama as a disparate group of people gather to see in the new year and wonder whether the millennium bug will strike.  Although it has seen productions in London and New York, it was never a major hit, but certainly deserves attention, if only for the wonderful score which gives each of the characters a revealing solo or duet and features some tricky harmony work for the whole cast.

I auditioned for this show on my birthday (as you do) and was delighted to be offered the role of Chris, the host of the party who is soon discovered (by both his wife and the audience) to have recently ended an affair.  Needless to say, this leads first to a certain amount of tension and then to rather a lot of drama.    This is a very different part for me, playing someone who is extraordinarily unsympathetic who does little to redeem himself during the course of the evening.  Aside from a few barbed one-liners early in the show, this is a character who is not comedic – straight acting will be required for once.  During the second act, he has a song which will be a challenge and a privilege to sing.  Named ‘Like Father, Like Son’, it is a chance for some empathy with Chris as he delves into the reasons he has done the things he has done.  Part of the challenge is the chorus, where the same words occur three times, but mean something different each time they return.

The show is on for one night only at the Tower Theatre, Folkestone, and is produced by Lights Up Productions.  This is one of those occasions where I am the oldest cast member, but only just – it will make a change not to be either the baby or the old man of the show.  In a first for a show I’ve been involved with, a teaser trailer, filmed at an early rehearsal, has been uploaded to YouTube and can be seen below:

This is an exciting departure for me – a different group of performers, a different theatre, and a chance to really stretch the acting side of my performance in a small ensemble cast.  As we sing at the close of Act One, I can’t help thinking that “it’s gonna be a great year, ’cause from here on out it’s the sky!”

It is me? The great Christmas No. 1 battle


Is it me?  I can’t help but be baffled by the news report I’ve just seen about the shocking result of the traditional race to be number one in the Christmas chart.  I say shocking, but it isn’t really – I think it was to be expected, really.  On one side, we have the X-Factor juggernaut, with a technically brilliant singer releasing a worryingly catchy song (Joe McElderry is a great singer [his performances that I’ve seen were near-as-dammit to flawless], there really is no question, I’m just not convinced he’s a superstar), on the other side you have a Facebook-fuelled campaign to get an alternative track to the top spot.  Never underestimate the power of Facebook.

Essentially, the choice of song (Rage Against the Machine’s “Killing in the Name”) made it quite clear that the campaign was more about sticking two fingers up at the way in which people like Simon Cowell dominate the music industry than it was about musical taste.  I’d be astonished if all the people who bought the song liked it.  But the whole thing strikes me as wonderfully ironic.  Continue reading

Playing with pyjamas


Being the Singing Librarian is often quite a busy thing to be, as I tend to have more than one project on the go at once.  Plus the day job, of course, which takes up plenty of time and energy itself.  At the moment, I’m rehearsing for two different shows (in some ways quite a light load for me!).  One of these is a 1950s musical which was a big hit in its day but seems relatively forgotten now, The Pajama Game.  The theme of the show (or, I suppose, the excuse for the inevitable 1950s musical love stories) is that a group of pyjama factory workers are growing increasingly disgruntled that their employer has failed to give them a seven and a half cents per hour pay rise which is rapidly becoming industry standard.  A strike is contemplated, and alternative forms of industrial action embarked upon, which makes the show somewhat timely given the recent announcement of a very long strike by British Airways employees.  But the reason for going to see the show is the music, which includes a couple of well-known standards: ‘Hey There’ (“you with the stars in your eyes…”) and ‘Hernando’s Hideaway’, plus some big toe-tapping numbers including ‘Steam Heat’. Here’s a taste from the recent Broadway revival, including my personal favourite from the score, ‘There Once Was a Man’:

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The blonde factor


Moving from the Library of Doom to a state of the art learning centre has been an interesting, exciting, tiring and sometimes frustrating experience.  The new building has been open for 10 weeks now and everything is beginning to settle down.  We understand the technology, we no longer forget which floor everything is on and we are adjusting to the open plan office etiquette rules and the students’ newfound freedom to talk, eat and drink almost anywhere in the learning centre.  One thing, however, has not settled down, and that is shelving.  In any library (sorry, learning centre), shelving is a major logistical issue involving more trolleys and members of staff than you could ever imagine.  In fact, the task seems to consume as many trolleys as are available – you can purchase a couple of dozen extra trolleys, but within a week you will find yourself needing more.

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