What’s so great about Kiss Me, Kate?


Musical theatre is my passion.  Hardly a surprising admission, but it is definitely true.  There are many musicals which I like, many songs which I love to sing, hum or hear, many writers, composers, directors and performers I admire.  And of course, there are the shows that I love.  The cream of the crop, and Kiss Me, Kate is one of those.  Convenient, really, as it’s going to be part of my life for the next few months!  But what’s so great about it?  What makes me rank it almost as highly as Cabaret, Sweeney Todd and West Side Story?

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Singing Librarian flashbacks: Dreams


I don’t often remember dreams.  I’m not sure why this would be.  It could be due to my sleep patterns, or a side-effect of my utter lack of a visual memory (I cannot picture anythingin my head), or maybe I just don’t dream as much as other people.  Whatever the reason, I very rarely wake up knowing that I’ve had a dream, and it’s very rare indeed that I remember what I was dreaming about.  I do remember two different dreams where my house went up in flames, though, and my dream self has killed at least two people I know (so watch out, mwah ha ha!) for some reason.  However, I do normally manage an anxiety dream in the days or weeks leading up to a performance, and this is the focus of this flashback.  No insights into the strange backstage world of the theatre, I’m afraid.  Just into my head!

I’m sure most performers of any kind and at any level have had the usual anxiety dreams – turning up late; forgetting the words, or the steps, or the music; turning up with no clothes on…  But that’s kid stuff!  My sleeping mind seems to be able to come up with some wonderful variations on this theme. Continue reading

Audition preparation


Many things in life make me nervous.  Performing.  Meeting new people.  Seeing crocodiles (or alligators) on the television.  Looking at my bank balance.  Watching someone I know perform.  But auditions are one of the worst things for nerves.  I know that the audition panel are not really evil monsters, that they want you to do the best you can do, and that any decision they make is unlikely to be personal.  But even so…they’re a terrifying experience.  The weeks leading up to them are rather scary as well.

This coming Sunday, I have an audition for Kiss Me, Kate.  Amateur, of course, but that doesn’t make it any less scary.  After much soul-searching, I decided to audition for two roles within the show – Bill Calhoun and Second Man.  Second Man is actually the best role, one of the two gangsters who are the root cause of much comedy and who get to sing ‘Brush Up Your Shakespeare’ at the eleventh hour.  The gangsters are often played by people older than my oh-so-youthful 27-year-old self, but the director is willing to consider anyone from their twenties upwards for Second Man, who is the subordinate (and marginally more stupid) one.  Bill Calhoun is a long shot, the juvenile male who plays Lucentio in the musical version of The Taming of the Shrew which forms a large part of the plot.  He’s a dancer, which is the main problem.  I can sing his songs and I can possibly be charming enough to play him if I try, but the dancing is the real worry.  Still, I can dance ‘in my fashion’, so I’ll just give it all I’ve got at the audition and see what happens. 

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Amateur operatic people


Having been involved with quite a number of amateur and semi-professional shows now, certain patterns in the make-up of each group have become evident.  Whether a Society that has been running since Victorian times, or a group pulled together for one specific production, there are people who seem to manifest themselves in every situation.  Perhaps we are all avatars of some peculiar theatrical pantheon?  I don’t know, but I’d like to introduce you to them.

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The world’s longest-running musical? I don’t think so!


This weekend, Les Miserables is celebrating its 21st birthday on the West End, claiming the crown of London’s longest ever run for a musical (The Mouse Trap, of course, is miles ahead, but is a straight play).  The press claims have been that this will make it the world’s longest-running musical, but that’s really a bit of a lie, or at least an example of hyperbole.

It certainly beats Cats as the longest-runner in London (with Phantom of the Opera holding that record for Broadway), but none of those shows come anywhere near the long run that was enjoyed by a little show called The Fantasticks in New York.  Not a spectacular show, and not (it has to be admitted) with the same audience capacity in the theatre, it nevertheless ran for just under 42 years, twice as long as Les Mis has trundled on for.  It’s not as splashy and newsworthy, though, so it seems it can be conveniently swept under the carpet in order to make the London record sound so much more impressive.

The Fantasticks is a lovely little show, and it introduced the world to ‘Try to Remember’, a song that crops up every so often, most recently in a TV commercial for coffee in the UK.  The songs and the script make me smile, though they don’t move me as much as Les Miserables does.  I just feel it deserves to keep the distinction of world’s longest running musical – 41 years and 8 months is no small achievement!

Look! Down in the corner!


Book Box of Doom

Is it a TARDIS?  Is it a toilet?  No, it’s…

…the Library of Doom’s new book box!  No, really. Continue reading

Taking a compliment


There are many idiosyncrasies of the Singing Librarian which people may find either endearing or infuriating, and one of the most conspicuous is my complete inability to take a compliment.  You could put this down to any number of psychological factors, or perhaps blame Britishness for it, but ultimately it’s probably just plain annoying.

Why write about this today?  Continue reading

The other side of auditions


One of the duties that comes with being on the committee of my operatic society is being on the panel for society membership auditions.  Most of the other duties involved letters or e-mails, so interaction with real people makes a pleasant change.  And although I’d never want the responsibility of being on the casting committee for a show, I rather like doing this.  Tonight we had eight auditionees, as we’re beginning show rehearsals and that always brings a stream of people in.  It was a mixed bunch, but a pleasure to listen to.

We had songs from stage and screen, including ‘Chim, Chim, Cheree’ and ‘Music of the Night’, and even a traditional Welsh song.  Lovely.  None of it was painful, and it was heartening to see people overcoming nerves to sing to us.  Some just sang the notes and some really performed the song, giving it their all.  Some had ludicrously large ranges, one was very limited.  Some sang scales beautifully, some rather raggedly.  But it was interesting to sit and focus on someone else’s voice, hear the potential in it and think about its possibilities.  You’re really willing the person to do well, and feel a bit nervous on the behalf of anyone who’s shaking or sweating.  Having been on the other side of the divide many times (and soon to be again), being on the panel for this is probably very good for me, giving me an insight into the mind of the panel members and reassuring me of their good intentions.

We inform the auditionees of our decision by post, so thankfully there’s no call for immediate feedback, positive or negative, which would make me squirm.  I’m no Simon Cowell.  I’m just a young man who wants to see talented people join the society and have fun.  And hopefully that’s what most of tonight’s auditionees will do.

Liquid comfort blankets


I’m trying to decide whether or not the ever-present bottle of water is a new thing or not.  It seems that Western society is suddenly unable to function unless everyone totes a small plastic bottle of water, whether shop-bought or from the tap, literally everywhere they go.  Clasped in our hands in the street, at work, at the theatre, at church, at the gym and anywhere else you care to mention.  We don’t necessarily use the contents very often, but the bottle can not be too far away before we begin to panic.  You may be late for Cousin Doreen’s wedding, but if you forgot your bottle of water, you still need to stop off at the petrol station to get a new one.

I am certainly not immune and have noticed with alarm my extreme attachment to my silly little bottle at rehearsals.  In performances, I can obviously only drink when off-stage and manage perfectly well with no ill effects, but in rehearsals, I sneak sips of water in the middle of numbers if the sopranos are warbling away on their own for a few bars and practically inhale the stuff after particularly taxing numbers.  A few hours at rehearsal, even if we’re just singing, will see me get through at least 500ml of water.  Of course, hydration is a good thing, but this strange psychological dependence can become compulsive and sometimes inappropriate.  Surely it must increase the number of visits we all make to the little boys’ and girls’ room each day?  And isn’t it just a little distracting when your neighbours insist on using their liquid comfort blanket at the most ridiculous times?  In the midst of silent contemplation at church, or a quiet solo at the theatre, for instance.

Have we all gone mad?  Is there something in the water?  Or is this all perfectly normal?  I’m not sure, but my throat suddenly feels very dry…

Singing Librarian flashback: Dido and Aeneas – costume dramas


I think it’s about time for another flashback.  Another long one, I’m afraid.  Summer 2003, The Gulbenkian Theatre, Canterbury.  Dido and Aeneas, performed in a double bill with The Ephesian Matron.

There are many things I could tell you about this production, but the thing that sticks most clearly in my mind is costume, and I know I shall never forget the June evening when we had our first fully-costumed run-through of the show.  Nor will anyone else present.  It was one of those evenings. Continue reading