Thursday, 22 November 2007
A Musical Family
I’m exhausted this morning, recovering from a musical soiree. That’s a slightly grand description of last night, but it was a very late night for us.
I started off with rehearsals for Pajama Game where we sang more numbers and learnt the steps to Seven and a Half Cents. The new choreographer is tiny, with huge eyes and long un-mascara-d eyes, and is young enough to be my granddaughter (well, nearly). But she has patience and understanding which makes her a great teacher. Just as well – trying to teach thirty lumbering adults steps to a number in a small room is not easy.
But I got a real buzz from it. Being in at the beginning of a production is very exciting – like starting a novel, it’s a real adventure, full of unknowns. New people, a new plot, new songs, new moves and who knows who will play whom?
Auditions are all day on Sunday so as you can imagine, the atmosphere was electric. Everyone eyeing each other up, while being nice and smiley, thinking, “I want that part. I want it so much that – or should I go for Babe? Or Mabel. Perhaps I’ll go for them all.”
Given my dubious health this year I’ve opted to go for the chorus which will be taxing and time consuming enough, but that means I don’t have to attend auditions – though I might call in and see how it’s going.
Anyway, after that I drove a friend home then went back down to town where Himself was sitting in with a jazz band for the first time in nine years. He was very nervous but a friend had rung that morning to say her husband was also sitting in and would Himself come and join them, so it made that first time a bit easier.
In fact the band was run by someone he knows and it was her father and mother who came along to sit in – Bob is a wonderful sax player and Ruth sings with a raunchy blues voice. A wonderfully talented pair, and their daughter led the band playing guitar (she also plays the bull fiddle) so they’re a very musical family.
Himself played several numbers in the second half and excelled himself. He even played a solo which he’d refused to do, thinking he wasn’t good enough. When he and Bob played, the influx of students who’d suddenly materialised started stamping and shouting, whistling and clapping. Outside people peered in through the windows to see who was playing. The bored youngsters serving in the chippy opposite stood up and started jiving behind the counter.
Boy, was I proud.