h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

= what I would like to say to David B, who was splendiferous in Kiss Me, Kate last night. In fact, everyone was great, and it was a really enjoyable evening. Oops, just realised it's gone 9.00am!

Why, thank you. *takes a bow*

Last night was still fun, but my head was a bit fuzzy so I had to concentrate more than usual to be in the right place at the right time. One of the chorus numbers ended up as a bit of a vocal road crash at one point, but the shelf of librarians who attended said that they didn't notice anything amiss. However, I have now been instructed to sing a new line that I didn't previously sing, just in case the instigator of the road crash (who has got it slightly wrong before, but not this wrong) does it again. That makes me feel slightly awkward, and has also sent me running for my music to check that I know when he's supposed to come in!

One of the things that I couldn't report before the librarians came is that I technically open both acts of the show. In act one, the house lights come down and the DSM (Deputy Stage Manager, aka She Who Must Be Obeyed) gives me the thumbs up. I wander on to stage with my clipboard, notice a problem with the set and yell (rather loudly) at the man in the fly tower to get it sorted). Exit David stage right, with an audience now aware that the show has started before we launch into the opening number. In act two, a bunch of us have been sitting on the stage for partof the interval, moaning about the heat etc. As the houselights go down, I have to keep my eyes on the Musical Director, who cues me to begin tapping my clipboard in the rhythm that builds into Too Darn Hot. The next 24 bars or so are me tapping and whistling, with the orchestra gradually joining in, before Paul, who really leads the number, takes over with the vocals. No pressure at all!

The torso meme is spreading. Having been told on Monday that mine is 'very erotic', attention has now moved on to the guy playing Bill. It's somewhere between amusing and embarrassing for the two of us at the moment. He spends bits of act two in a vest, and I have a certain amount of chest exposed during Too Darn Hot (poor audience!), so we can't even preserve our dignity in the wings. Thankfully, it's mostly the two principal ladies at the moment who are trying to make us blush. Naughty!

Voice feeling even weaker this morning. When is it going to give out? I'm really hoping that the answer is 'Sunday'.

I don't think you need to feel sorry for the audience (re: your exposed chest)! *attempting to make David blush*

Hope the voice holds out . [water]

Another performance down (which went swimmingly), only today's two to go. Having spent most of the equivalent week last year wishing it would be over, I don't want this week to end! Today will be manic, as we have basically one hour between leaving after the matinee and needing to be back to prepare for the evening show. We have a buffet laid on at a local (very local!) pub, and we present gifts to the production team, and have the ever-popular silly awards ceremony. This year, it will apparently be the Silver Safety Pin Awards.

It's wonderful to hear audiences laughing at the funny bits, and cheering some of the numbers. It's a privilege to perform with a very talented group of people. It's even fun to try to keep my voice going. There's not much there at the moment. 4 hours and 40 minutes to get it back!

No particular traumas last night as far as I recall. Well, other than one of the ladies in the chorus pinching my bottom during the curtain call! Oh, and I told the two female leads off for their constant attempts to make myself and the juvenile lead blush.

Here is a summary of what happens for me during the last fifteen minutes of act one, my mad period:

Following a disturbance on stage during the show within the show, I run on as Ralph, yelling at all and sundry and bringing the show curtain in, trapping some dancers in front of it.

I then have to run around the the front entrance stage right, and get the dancers to repeat their bit over and over again, dashing on stage to clear props etc., until I get the all clear from the stage crew.

Run around the back of the set to the stage left entrance as the scene changes and the two leads begin to argue.

Dash on, shout at them at absolute full volume (making the audience laugh nervously), glare and exit.

Get my breath back as the scene continues.

Return to the stage for some comic dialogue with the male lead and stalk off in anger as the scene changes again.

Run like a thing that runs very, very fast. Round the back of the set again, to the quick change room stage right. Remove jacket, glasses, trousers (with braces) and shirt. Quickly grab a gulp of water if there's time. Put on strange sleeve thing and heavy, hard to move tabard. Do up endless poppers and hooks. Grab my ridiculous hat.

Run out of the quick change room, through the green room (startling whichever members of theatre staff are there) and into the backstage corridors. Use the mirror to put the hat on, checking that it doesn't obscure my mic. head. Run further along the corridors, past the stage door keeper's office and up some stairs. Through a complicated door that needs both hands to open. Turn 180 degrees and run down another corridor into place by the auditorium door.

Check that no poppers have come undone. Have a few seconds to get my breath back (varies from about 5 to about 30, depending on the speed of the scene change as I run off) before the music for the next number starts.

Enter the auditorium and head for a position in the centre. Count like mad and come in solo with 'We sing of love'. Repeat, but now with a spotlight shining on me and with a ridiculously long and high held note. Mime extreme passion for a while, then sing 'Ye gods above, may we never sing of anything but love'. All of this bit has to be at full volume to avoid feedback with mic. and speakers.

Solo moment over, head back to the stage, joining in with the chorus, as we sing 'Cantiamo d'Amore'. Watch the dance in the middle, and then sing lots of la la la at the end.

Hide at the back of the chorus during the final scene, and sing the act one finale lustily.

Head for water and a stream of fresh air as soon as the curtain comes down. Prepare to show the audience my chest and sing at the top of my range once the interval is over.

Well, we would never have known that you had to do all that as you were very composed on stage at all times! Hope the voice comes back in time for today's performances.

(more water!)

In case you don't read my email before this afternoon, hope all goes well this afternoon and tonight, and that the after show stuff is fun.



LP (Queen of repetition)

Well, it's all over now. I made it through the final two performances, but have been pretty much unable to sing anything in my normal range today. I sung one song at church this morning an octave down, and just mouthed along to the rest!

Audience feedback has been incredible - it really is a crying shame that we didn't get more bums on seats. On Saturday, we were spurred on to new heights by a vindictive review in the local paper, criticising the politically incorrect choice of show and such like. We basically all went 'phooey to that' and pulled out an even better performance than usual.

Between performances we had our matinee teas and presentations. In the Safety Pin Awards, I was nominated for the lookalike award (for my Shakespearean costume that remembled Bill or Ben the Flower Pot Man) and for the scene stealing award, for the ever longer break between yelling 'Will you be quiet!' and following it up with 'There is a show on stage'. I didn't win either, but I did win the Dierdre Day Luvvie Award, which only ever has one nominee each year (DD being a former director for the Society). I was given the award for not being a luvvie at all, the citation being 'for a man whose chest has made its debut on the Marlowe stage and who can get away with shouting at the entire cast.' I blushed. I also blushed when the rest of the committee took me aside after the rest of the presentations of wine/chocs/flowers to give me a little something to say thanks for all the work I'd put in behind the scenes.

For the matinee, I had to add an additional bit of dashing around backstage in order to retrieve a hat that had gone missing for the leading lady. And on the evening performance, I came quite close to dropping the secondary male lead, who leaps (I supposed that's now past tense ) into my arms during Too Darn Hot. I managed to recover him and make it look funny, and he bears me no ill will, thank goodness.

I m very, very proud of the cast indeed, and even though I know we'll lose money on the production, I feel it has turned out very well for the Society, introducing some great new members, and pushing some existing members further. Plus, we should be able to come close to selling out next year, as we're doing good old 'My Fair Lady', so will soon recover any financial shortcomings.

well done on putting so much in to the show. Shame you may not break even

If only good audience reactions could be banked