Four performances. Three days. Months of rehearsal. A few hundred audience members. All on a desert island inhabited by hungry cannibals.

Except for the last bit (we were fed an abundance of lollies), this signals the end of the concert. As usual, such a delight of fun both backstage and on stage. I got to do a few songs I had done before and a few new ones. I got my name in the program as Musical Director alongside Tim, even though it was he who did most of the work.

The backstage behaviour forms quite an unusual bond; a group of people who meet for the purpose of running through the (hopefully, but not always) same motions each performance, and trying to laugh as much as possible when not on stage.

While last night when I came home to scrape the makeup from my skin (caked on from two shows), it felt like we’d been doing the show for a month, when we finally settled down after the show tonight it felt like we’d stopped just as we got started.

Oh well, no time for post show blues, I have another show to continue work on, a new student to tutor and uni starts back in one week’s time.

We have been released from that purgatory called “Production Week” for the concert.

We didn’t spend the time worrying and flapping about, instead taking the time to partake in a little serious conversation. Amongst other topics, we discussed the various aspects of pooping (becoming a bit of a theme around here), including ways of passing the time while passing your stools, doing the pants-down dash for a new toilet roll and an issue that Hannah was clearly passionate about: shitting under pressure.

Rest assured it’s not all hard work though (no longer talking about turds), we occassionally get to play make-believe and dress-ups:

I promise to blog less about bowel motions*.

* I can’t possibly make that promise. Who knows what might come up.

What I feared would be a horrible, depressing night was incredibly fun and such a delight. Tonight was the first annual, inter-theatre-company theatre sports night.

On Wednesday night, my team and I, including a well known local radio presenter and two other people I hadn’t worked with before, assembled at a rehearsal night at which we (and the other teams) learnt the rules and basic strategies for playing each of the games (and a few more) we might be called upon to play on the evening. Being one of only four representing the whole theatre company, there was a bit of pressure. I left Wednesday feeling depressed and unsure of how tonight would go. Our games were messy, unfocussed, and downright unentertaining. Cue tonight.

The energy levels were high, even though most had the same thought in their heads as I: “This is going to be so horrible for the audience”. It wasn’t. Working in such a small theatre you see everyone’s faces (particularly when you aren’t performing, just sitting on stage), and there was a couple of elderly ladies in the front row with looks of sheer amazement on their faces, as if they were 3 years old and had Santa Claus doing a dance in front of them. Everyone performed to their highest tonight, and there were some terrific moments. Our team played a game of Mime, then Endowments (in which I was the one who had to guess that I was a confused dentist with a hunchback - and I got it!), followed by Scene in a Style, in which we performed Hansel and Gretel as a broadway musical. We didn’t win, but the winning team was incredibly deserving, particularly after their 4-minute opera “Sherlock Holmes in Uzbekistan”.

Not only was it such a delight, but I look forward to honing my skills and doing it again next year!

As planned, I headed into the radio station today with AJ (to make sure I pressed the right buttons… he succeeded all but once), and I had a great time blasting out my selection of music over the airways. I also got a few nice comments, mostly about my selection of music, and got the chance to force feed the audience some work I think needs to be heard (like Light In The Piazza).

After that, we joined Steen for a journey into the abandoned theatre that is being developed into an extremely versatile and exciting performance space.

The theatre was one I performed in a number of times, most notably it was the venue for our production of Summer of the Aliens, which was one of the very last shows in the theatre before it closed up shop. What was most unusual was the way everything was left exactly as it had been since the day it stopped running, almost like diving down into a sunken wreckage, or visiting a ghost town. Lots of dirt, leaves and critters had moved in and were leaving their mark, but at the same time, the kitchen still had packets of coffee, all the glasses were still in the racks (including a load in the glass washer that hadn’t been emptied yet). Bundles of equipment were lying about, and stage lights were still hanging from the light bars.

Hearing the plans for the place, it is undoubtedly going to be a wonderful space for performers to do what they want, how they like it, and also a great space to workshop new ideas. While it’s years away at the moment, it’s already an exciting prospect.

I had to sit through one of the most painfully uninformed lectures this week at uni.

Called in as a guest lecturer, this composer (who shall remain nameless) spoke of his musical career thus far, and in doing so spoke about his involvement in musical theatre. All was going okay until he offered the following:

“All the musicals nowadays are about rock bands or movies, and there is no originality in the field anymore.”

Rrrright. He used, to back up his (of course, not generalised at all) statement, reference of Priscilla, We Will Rock You, Mamma Mia, and “a new one that’s based on the movie Titanic.”

He would be, of course, referring to the musical, “Titanic”, which premiered on Broadway in 1997. The same year the film was released. So, either composer Maury Yeston and his team were so impressed with the movie that they were able to fully develop, workshop and produce a broadway musical within a few months, or this composer has his facts very wrong. It is, of course, the latter. The musical has nothing to do with the movie (beyond it’s source of historical event, of course). The fact that this composer refers to it as a new show opening up means he has no historical understanding of the field. He just doesn’t know his shit.

But, for those in the audience of 50 or so who gasped audibly at the mention of Leonardo DiCaprio musical - and I believe the guy next to me was one, but I was banging my head on the fold-out writing desk at this point - this particular composer has a plan. In fact, more than a plan. He declared himself the saviour to contemporary theatre, saying that he’d like to write some good stuff for the theatre. Because, clearly, there is no good stuff already out there.

What can I say other than I am so glad I will be able to sleep soundly tonight because finally a talented individual has decided to save musical theatre and finally write something worth producing.

Oh! And I guess this will solve the youth audience problem too! Yay!