Saturday 17 November 2012

I just can't get you out of my head!

I was recently battling through the London Underground during rush hour half asleep but wholly agitated.  As I waded through the stone-faced commuters I found myself singing “Chitty Chitty Bang Bang” in my head – it came from nowhere and I managed the whole song before exiting the turnstile.

It was only when listening to a programme on Radio 4 by Shaun Keaveny (Granny Dani has a new favourite thing, I’m now too old even for Radio 2!) that I realised that this Chitty incident was actually an attack of a well-known affliction. 
Earworms.

The word conjures up both comedy and gross images and it made me chuckle.  Now you know me, I love learning something new, so I got straight onto Google and found out..........that I was the last to know about this ailment.
Good ol’ Wikipedia defines an earworm as “a piece of music that sticks in one's mind so that one seems to hear it, even when it is not being played.......a type of song that typically has a high, upbeat melody and repetitive lyrics that verge between catchy and annoying.”

Radio 6 Music presenter Shaun Keaveny has been collecting his listeners’ earworms for three years and has now teamed up with a psychologist and Goldsmiths University to try “unearth” (ha-ha) why people become infected and which songs may be the most “earwormy.”  The Radio 4 programme was fascinating; explaining the high risk situations when these worms can attack such as when we’re doing boring, repetitive activities, early or late in the day or when we are stressed.  I love the idea of a song worming away through your head and what that reveals about your subconscious. 
Without going into too much detail of my medical history, I have found that I seem to suffer from these earworm invasions when I am stressed (see above; in rush hour) or as Frank Sinatra would say, “in the wee small hours.”  I am sure this is common; who hasn’t lain in bed all snuggled up only to find an earworm snuggling up in your brain and gnawing away at your sanity.
My most random experience has to be when I had to have a brain scan:  I found myself in a backless hospital gown being reversed into the long white cylinder and told to “relax” which I can assure you is impossible when you people are peering into your brain.  Well, for some strange reason as I attempted to “relax” and focus on every yoga class I’d ever attended these words entered my head:  “Is it worth a-waiting for, If we live till 84, All we ever get is gru-el.”  It was like a chant over and over again until (inwardly) I broke into the chorus “Food, Glorious, Food, Hot sausage and mustard.....”  Now, I’ve never been in Fagin’s gang nor had I recently watched the film Oliver! or auditioned for the show so why the f&*k was THAT song my earworm in the middle of a brain scan?  What must my reading have looked like?  I am surprised that the nurses didn’t wheel me straight down the corridor to the psychiatric unit or point me towards the nearest Actor’s Retirement Home.
A print out from my MRI scan!
For that occasion my earworm wasn’t annoying but some kind of subconscious safety mechanism. 

According to research by James Kellaris, 98% of individuals experience earworms. Women and men experience them equally often, but earworms tend to last longer for women and irritate them more.  Apparently there are certain groups of people who are more vulnerable to an earworm attack and creative people who work with music are one of them, so as a female musical theatre performer, I instantly fall into the “more vulnerable to an outbreak” category.  Add into the mix that people who sing along with the radio or on their own are even more susceptible and I can only be a one-woman epidemic.  My boyfriend recently exclaimed as I danced around the kitchen “You sing ALL the time!”  I am oblivious to this although his point was proved when I visited my parents and heard my Dad constantly singing or rapping to himself and I found myself joining in or harmonizing from upstairs!  Perhaps it is a genetic or learnt condition?

Researchers at Goldsmith’s University investigated which songs were classic earworms and ABBA’s Waterloo was near the top.  I didn’t need a scientist to tell me that; after years of performing the Mamma Mia! megamix I would get the tube to Waterloo Station, see the sign, and start singing that song again on a loop until the early hours.  As if an 8 show week wasn’t enough!
The words “affliction,”“infected” and “contagious” sound rather dramatic and don’t help with their image but supposedly these earworms are harmless and won’t do us any damage but try telling me that when you have the 2nd alto line of Mmm Bop! in your brain at 4am; you certainly feel like reaching for a brown paper bag or phoning the NHS helpline then!
So if a scientist was to study me and my earworms would they conclude that I reach to childhood songs in times of stress to remember an innocent, stress-free time or do I simply yearn to live in a musical?  Either way I’m going to embrace my earworms, welcome them in and perhaps dance along in the kitchen to the dismay of my boyfriend.  It seems the healthy option!
All together now.....”Oh you Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, pretty Chitty Bang Bang we love you!”

Sunday 11 November 2012

Are books becoming Kindle-ing for the fire?

I was waiting to go into an audition on Friday leafing through pages of a printed out script praying that one last peruse would make the lines go in.  A fellow auditionee came in; we made the usual pleasantries “Hiya,” “What time are you in?” “Weren’t the tubes a nightmare...” and went back to our scripts. 

There were three major differences between me and my fellow auditonee; 1) He was a boy 2) He was at least a decade younger than me and 3) His script was on an iPad.  As I shuffled paper, he scrolled, I thumbed pages and he touch-screened.

Now I know this isn’t unheard of; up-to-date media is compulsory for us all nowadays even Granny Dani has succumbed to an iPhone and will happily list the benefits, but this is the first time I have seen a lack of paper in a ramshackle audition room.  I have always secretly thought that the acting profession was still slightly in the dark ages but maybe that’s just me?
I have an undisclosed love of books, scripts and all things paper.  My bookshelves are bursting and I dream of one day having a library with floor to ceiling books, a classic green banker’s lamp and perhaps even a ladder so I can whoosh about like Belle in Disney’s Beauty and the Beast, but I digress....
"There must be more than this cyber liiiiiiiiife.."

I appreciate the advantages of iPads and Kindles and although I won’t march to Parliament opposing goggle-eyed screen gazing, I won’t get one myself.  I have an on-going spat with my brother-in-law who has embraced his Kindle and the variety it provides whilst I constantly disparage it by buying him endless paperbacks for his birthday!  Our whole lives are online; we work online, bank online, watch TV and can even find our soul-mate so I feel loathed to read books from a screen too. 

My A-Level English tutor taught me to appreciate the old fashioned book showing me there is nothing better than the tangible quality of being able to hold something that is definite and real.  I wish I hadn’t sniggered along with everybody else as he grabbed a nearby tome, fanned its pages and inhaled deeply exclaiming “Oh yummy yummy books,” because Mr Jones, you may find me doing something similar now!
There could be a balancing act between the two

I am totally aware of my hypocrisy as I write this via an online blog and as an aspiring writer I might, too, one day be swayed by self-publishing and eBooks.  EBooks are increasingly becoming the way to get your writing “in print” and has opened up a whole new world of freedom where a writer is not controlled by an editor.  In August of this year Amazon announced that eBook sales surpassed regular hardbacks and paperbacks for the first time in Britain; an expected and realistic statistic but it makes me shudder. 
 I mourn that my un-born children may not have a library of encyclopedias for homework or a stack of books for bedtime stories; I could retain prehistoric paperbacks at home but then they’d be the bullied kids who didn’t have the latest gadget.
Yes I am old-fashioned; my room is full of printed out audition scenes, old magazines and bank statements but I’d go around writing with a quill if I could.  I may turn out to be the Mum whose kids have to have secret Kindle session beneath their duvets or I may download my next audition script and “get down”, sorry, “scroll” down like all the cool kids .

I shall leave the final word to a proper published author, Jilly Cooper, who when asked if she’d ever buy a Kindle said, “you can’t drop it in the bath and the idea of going on holiday with 1,000 books is so depressing, I mean, you wouldn’t have time to get off with anyone would you?”

‘Nuff said!

Friday 9 November 2012

Phillip Schofield - know your place


Many a true word is spoken in jest; there is an old quote from a Harry Enfield and Chums sketch “Women! Know Your Place.”  Although a woman’s place is now wherever she so pleases, there is an element of truth behind accepting what your place is.

As an actress you have to accept your place; not as a lower class citizen as believed about the first actresses in London but what our ‘cast-ability’ truly is.  We are judged by our looks, talents and niche and the sooner you accept what your cast-ability is the happier your audition life will be.  I may want to be Nala in The Lion King but I have to face facts that it is never going to happen.

Similarly, Phillip Schofield may want to be the next hard-hitting journalist hack but it ain’t gonna happen.  His place is as a warm, friendly, popular culture television presenter; we want to see him giggling uncontrollably with Holly Willoughby about phallic shaped parsnips not leading a campaign against the government.
from The Telegraph

I have always been a fan of the Silver Fox from the gopher, to loin cloths to the This Morning sofa but I think he got it wrong yesterday.  I suspect it was the This Morning editorial team/producers with Panorama aspirations that pushed this idea with dreams of Daytime TV seen to front the campaign against cover ups and paedophilia.  But they need to remember that This Morning is exactly that – “Daytime TV.”

It can be argued that David Cameron was booked as a guest so therefore This Morning was obliged to cover hard hitting topics (he was booked to discuss Dementia) however, it is doubtful that Downing Street’s PR team book the Prime Minister on such television shows for an in-depth debate.  The purpose of these appearances is surely to display how in touch he is with the people of the UK - those ironing at 11am and those waiting to hear from auditions although wherever he is, interviewed, David Cameron should expect to answer tough quesitons.  Debate and confrontation is welcome in all kinds of television and I am not insinuating that daytime viewers don't have opinions and a desire to share them but such acts must be done in the right setting.

The act of Phillip Schofield handing over a list of Tory names allegedly linked to child molestation claims to David Cameron has been called a “silly, tabloid stunt,” and I have to agree.  It wasn’t a presentation of well thought-out research, documentation or a manifesto but a list scribbled on a cue card that Phil said he “had got off the internet” the night before; his turn of phrase cheapened the act before he even handed it over. 
You don't wanna laugh but......image from http://unitedshadesofbritain.wordpress.com/

This conversation and David Cameron’s calm response obviously went viral over the Internet within hours; everyone had an opinion or a mock up-photo to tweet.  I am loathed to say it but I think the government are right to warn against “trial by Twitter.”  Response and opinion can be created so quickly online by any number of people and although there are so many advantages to the cyber world, it is right to be wary of this force, too.  Specualtion is expected but we must be careful of creating lists about such a scandalous and sensitive subjects without documented evidence.  Tom Chivers has written a great comment in The Telegraph blog today about this, citing how people are “incredibly prone to groupthink” and prompting us to remember the “name and shame campaign” of The News of the World a few years ago prompting vigilante behaviour against paedophilia.  He makes some throught-provoking points, take a look http://blogs.telegraph.co.uk/news/author/tomchiversscience/

So Phil, you were a lovely Joseph but since I have accepted that I cannot audition for the blonde, leggy Ulla in The Producers, you need to accept that you cannot audition to be Jeremy Paxman – it would confuse the Dancing on Ice viewers.

Tuesday 6 November 2012

Christmas Countdown - Oh Yes it is!

Bonfire Night has whizzed away but there’s no time to mourn the smouldering village bonfires or rocket wrappers on the ground; Christmas is less than 50 days away!

Supermarkets and catalogues have been chucking festive food in our faces since August bank holiday but we’re just catching tentatively booking turkeys and choosing which 2013 calendar to buy, (Cliff Richard for me every time!) I love Christmas and I got my first anticipatory tinsel shivers when the Christmas edition of Red Magazine arrived in the post.  Every magazine is packed with festive outfits, recipes and stocking fillers in their November edition which although seems premature can actually fuel our yuletide anticipation.

Yes I'd look daft in any of these
but they're still Xmas "must haves!"
But as I read each page I felt slightly despondent; does everyone really have so many parties to go to that we must buy 3 sequined tops?  Who are the people with these busy social seasons and time to make canapés and drink champagne? Do we all have a lazy two weeks free to fill with family walks and tins of Quality Street?  I dream of having that fantasy Christmas seen in magazines, not the one you see depicted annually in Albert Square, but sadly, my inner 5 year old rattling presents on Christmas Eve is quashed by the working adult.

 
You see, I can only aspire to mince pie and port parties in a sparkly outfit because I am an actress and I haven’t had a proper Christmas since 2002.  Christmas is the one time of the year that actors are mostly in work; our agents’ bank accounts soar as we don thigh-high boots, jerkins and villagers outfits across the country in pantomime.

You can’t get more Christmassy than yelling “It’s behind you,” I hear you cry so, yes, we do indulge in the Christmas spirit but in a very different way to the Christmas in magazines.  Actors are the only humans not to gain weight during Christmas; the twice sometimes thrice daily performances guarantee that mince pies will not cling to your hips but the downside is the bags under your eyes get bigger and darker with each passing finale.

Our festive families become the 14 new faces at the first day of rehearsals and the 3 groups of local dance school children who supply the cards, homemade treats and cuddles in case we get homesick.  Christmas drinking partners can’t be your old chums in the local so instead it’s eggnog with Buttons, Abanazar and a celebrity or two to sign your autograph book. 

Replace this image with character shoes, berocca and 2litre Evian - that's more like it!
We may have the nightly festive night cap or company meal but most of the season is spent planning the drive home on Christmas Eve so that we can spend 24 hours under our family’s Christmas tree before heading back up the M1 at 6am on Boxing Day for the matinee.  Note to all patrons; it may be an English tradition to visit the pantomime on Boxing Day but more fool you.  Snow White and her seven dwarfs will either be shattered from an 8 hour round trip in the car, hungover, still drunk or just plain miffed that their families are enjoying a Boxing Day buffet whilst we are re-heating turkey in the green room microwave in-between shows.  A merry matinee it isn’t; the best time to see pantomime is Christmas Eve when we’re all full of Cadbury’s Yule Logs and anticipation to jump into our cars parked opposite stage door!

Even if an actor is in a West End job there still isn’t the chance of living up to the magazine Christmas; evenings are spent onstage instead of at parties and the “Company Christmas Do” is usually in January when the show schedule quietens down and room rental is cheaper.  The only people you see in sequins post New Year’s Eve are drag queens so you usually end up in an old frock like any other old night out to save face.

Everyone loves a fairytale wedding!
 
Despite all this I have always loved working over Christmas and have many happy festive memories of children’s faces lit up by over-priced colourful wands as they shout and scream at the stage.  But I have opted to have a “normal person” Christmas this year; I am determined to attend a Christmas ‘do’, see friends and spend quality (street) time with precious family.  But like all plans well made.....my other half is still doing panto in Torquay, so I’ll still be spending much of the holiday season driving up and down the M5 to see him. “You can take the actress out of the pantomime.....”

 
But maybe I’ll do it wearing a sparkly outfit and munching Waitrose canapés!