The Hills are Alive with The Sound of Nostalgia

Thoughtful gifts are the best presents and sometimes being in the presence of your favourite people is the best gift of all.

Regent's Park Open Air Theatre

This week the Family Gibb surprised me with an early birthday present – a trip to watch The Sound of Music at Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre.  Watching open air theatre in the summer is a must-do in my book and I was thrilled to have a chance to go to that beautiful venue again. 

There are two reasons why this gift was so thoughtful; the fact that it was just us 4 who went and that it is such a significant show.  As adults, it’s very rare that you get to hang out with your mum, dad and sibling like you did 25 years ago.  You take it for granted when you’re stuck in a car together or eating roast dinner but as we get older and mainly meet up for big family events, the 4 becomes 8, then 10 etc so it was lovely to be the Family Gibb for an evening.  It was also thoughtful because The Sound of Music was the first show I ever performed in at 8 years old and because of it, I became hell-bent on becoming an actress.

When I was 8, my Mum dressed me in a sailor dress, plaited my hair and sent me in for a group audition for a local production of The Sound of Music.  I know what you’re thinking - “crazy stage mum, pushing the girl squeezed into a sailor’s dress like a mini Judy Garland” but no, she really wasn’t.  My Mum is just someone who does everything in life 100% and has a heart of gold.  After 4 months of rehearsals and 6 precious shows as Gretl, the youngest of the Von Trapp children, I had had the time of my life and felt bereft that it was over.  In fact, the grief was so acute that I was to be found in my parents’ downstairs toilet for a week afterwards, wailing at the loss of my ‘show family.’  (The over-dramatic personality was cultivated from a young age!) I even went so far as to telephone the poor boy who had played Frederich to tell him that I missed him.  He was 13 years old and probably mortified to have a snivelling 8 year old phone his house, poor bloke!

I am the little one of course - mortified to share this with you!

As with all grieving processes, I went through phases.  The first was the crying in the downstairs loo, next came the “replacement” phase.  I made my younger sister and our two best friends play ‘The Von Trapps’ with me – lining them up in my friend’s lounge and forcing them to march up and down whilst telling them that I knew how to do it best because I had been in the show.  (The self-absorbed know-all was also cultivated early on, vile!)  I’m surprised they didn’t whack me over my head with a ‘Yodel ay ee ooo’ and head off to play Sonic the Hedgehog.  Becca, Andrew and Caroline – I am so sorry!

The next phase was “Moving On” or ‘onwards and upwards’ as my agent always says!  I had felt the lights on my face and was hungry for more.  And as the saying goes –

life was never the same again.

So this show was special to the young, bossy girl with West End aspirations and I had forgotten it until the wonderful performance at the park this week.  The children were amazing (yes, much better than 8 year old me) and it was lovely to see some performing friends excel themselves on the stage.  My sister wept from first entrance, justifiably I feel, because the nun’s singing was exquisite (although maybe she was just re-living the lounge marching debacle) and by the interval the whole Family Gibb were in floods.  I can’t blame my emotional side on being an actress, it is clearly genetics!

I love new musical theatre, new writing and funky Jason Robert Brown tunes but there is something about traditional musical theatre that makes my heart sing.  Maybe it because those were the songs I heard in my childhood that inspired me to start a career or maybe because they were written so damn well.  The lyrics of Rodgers & Hammerstein are simple and yet packed with a universal meaning that cuts through to us all.  The melodies stay in your head much longer than the average ‘show hit’ today and The Sound of Music is just a beautiful show.

I urge you to go and see it and if not, dust off your old ‘Best of the Musicals’ CD and have a sing along with Marti Webb and Dave Willets.  Sometimes it’s good to re-visit your roots as a reminder for how you ended up here or to re-focus where you want to be. 

The secret to a happy evening might just be to remember your favourite things – it turns out mine are family and singing nuns!

All together now......

Doe a deer, a female deer, Ray a drop of golden sun.....

Happy Ever Afters - Show-mances come good

I wrote a blog last year about the perils of show-mances, my definition of relationships between actors on tour.  It was inspired by headlines suggesting Gareth Gates had been ‘playing away from home’ with a co-star and they reminded me of all the horrid mis-trust, lying and devastated lives that become the casualties of actors finding solace at work.  Uplifting stuff!

But what about those relationships that do work?  Because late night kisses after a cast night out can sometimes turn into ‘happy-ever-afters’.  This blog is inspired by birth of a little baby girl to two of my touring friends who have proved that show-mances can work.  On the day of her birth an ABBA track, from the show which we all worked on, came onto the radio as I was driving home so I belted it out (harmony line 2 only, of course!) beaming with happiness for my dear girlfriend and her new family.

A large majority of the human race meet our spouses through work.  It makes sense as work takes up a third of our day and we meet people with similar passions and schedules.  It can be beneficial to share your life with a fellow actor.  On a few occasions I have been known to scream “NEVER AGAIN!” at the stars after an acrimonious split that left me weeping into my jazz shoes.  I have sworn allegiance to “normal men” only to fall back into the arms of an actor.  Dating a bloke with a normal job is tough when your only availability is 10.30pm after work on a Saturday.  It is also hard to explain the eccentricities of our world; not many men would accept that it’s OK to have their girlfriends snogged by random people or called ‘babe’ every 5 minutes.  My other half is an actor and even he finds the familiarities of a musical theatre cast disconcerting in spite of their luvvie innocence.  We are a strange breed.

A fellow actor or creative understands your work patterns, sporadic income and emotional ups and downs.  They recognize the fallen look when on the phone to your agent and the resulting torrent of tears just as they can fully celebrate the jubilation and relief of a “yes!”  Acting can easily become your life so where better to meet a potential spouse than at a read-through of a new job?  You live, eat and breathe a show once you’re in it and so relationships naturally form. When discussing relationships within a company in his book “The Rules of Acting,” Michael Simkins says, “it’s all too easy to meld fiction with reality.”  The trick seems to be remembering your reality (a common theme on this blog) and making space for your new relationship within it.

Yes show-mances can go wrong – there are many perils as you cross the threshold to post-contract world.  You may find that you have nothing to talk about when all you had in common was fellow cast members or show gossip.  The transition to unemployment can also be a struggle if you are used to courting (I love an old-fashioned turn of phrase!) with security and cash in your pocket, life ain’t so rosy when you’re searching for work and struggling to pay the council tax.  And what about if one person gets a new job and the other doesn’t?  Shakespeare’s “green-eyed monster” can often rear his ugly head.  As a naturally insecure bunch, actors fall prey to jealousy when threatened by better jobs or new cast mates.  Despite knowing the etiquette of post-show drinks or group outings to the gym it suddenly feels threatening when your other half is doing it in Grimsby without you. 

To quote the wonderful Michael Simkins again (have I mentioned BUY HIS BOOK!!?) “Everything about the acting game is designed to conspire against domestic compatibility.”  But my friends and their new baby girl, plus the countless other I couples I know, endeavour to prove this wrong.  I say ‘endeavour’ because it is a struggle, but what relationship isn’t?  But with SKYPE, understanding, mutual ego-stroking plus the luck of finding that one right fellow actor, we can have those finale endings that we portray on stage every night.  This pantomime princess may have had the happy accident of finding her Jack (insert your own crude quips about the beanstalk) leaning against a provincial pub jukebox, but I choose to omit the drunken beginnings and focus on the happy ever after!

 
And as I muse and meander on this subject I can only plaster a massive grin on my face and feel my heart brimming with joy for my tour friends and their baby girl.  They don’t sing ABBA tracks and aren’t tour folk anymore, it was merely the source for a show-mance done good.  Congratulations!

Quiet Imaginings - letting your mind roam free

I bought a picture this week - one of those vintage railway posters, all watercolours and beautiful scenery.  This one advertises The Lake District, I bought it because I fell in love with the area after visits up there with our tent but mainly because of the advertising slogan used by London Midland Scottish railway. 

“The Lake District – for rest and quiet imaginings.”

 

The phrase ‘quiet imaginings’ really appealed my inner writer and especially my unquashable romantic.  It evokes images of dreaming, wanderings in the countryside, forming life-changing plans and that freedom of mind you only have as a child where your imagination knows no bounds.

I have been mulling over our attachment to computers and social media for a while now, making notes for a blog, but seeing this poster was my ‘eureka’ moment. 

Our lifestyle today is not conducive to quiet imaginings and that makes me sad.

To be an artist, whether you act, write or paint, your imagination is your best friend.  How else can you express yourself?  How can you be creative if you're mind is filled with the beeps of your inbox.  Comedian and generally all-round brilliant human being, Miranda Hart has said that she “genuinely worries about what is happening to people’s imaginations” and “where the next generation of artists, screen writers and authors are going to come from,” because people are locked in a bubble with their screens.

Are we able to turn our brains off?  To turn down the volume to quiet?  I, like many  people, really struggle against this chatter.  Ideas, to-do lists and information constantly circle my mind like a plane waiting to descend into Heathrow.  I lie in bed choreographing dances, luckily for my other half they are all done in my head without an offending high kick or jazz hand stuffed up his nose. 

Who else reaches for their smart phone during an ad break on the TV?  Or whilst on a train journey or even on the loo?  It’s the train journey one that really irks me.  What’s wrong with staring out of the window and letting your mind wander?  Or people spotting?  Do you think the Before Sunrise film would have happened if Ethan Hawke and Julie Delpy were playing Candy Crush on the journey to Vienna, NO! 

 

Avenue Q warm up - shameful!

We can’t let our minds be still for a moment.  It’s like a technology-induced ADHD.  Do we think our brains will power- down the second they are left to their own devices?  Ah, excuse the unintended pun!  I have started to give myself a smart phone curfew and try not to stare at that little screen past 9pm.  Work emails fly in and kick my brain into action or that momentary Twitter check, to ensure the world hasn’t stopped turning without my 140 characters of wisdom – all these stop me from winding down in the evening.

Even on holiday people cannot resist the allure of technology; do I need to see a picture of the view from your hotel?  Do I want to see your bikini-clad girlfriend squinting through my computer.  Not really, no.  There may be a part of me that’s just downright jealous of your lovely time but really I just want you, my cyber friend who I probably haven’t actually spoken to in 8 years, to relax and enjoy your holiday.  Post the pictures when you get back if necessary but please switch off and enjoy the view for yourself.

Psychologies magazine had an interesting article in the April 2013 issue exploring why we have this attachment to social media.  It discusses the loss of private moments, engagements, childbirth etc and the attention we get for sharing them online.  Author, Lucy Beresford says “there is a danger that we end up relying too much on other people and their comments to soothe us and make us feel better.”  Does someone writing “OMG jealous!” really make you feel vindicated in your holiday destination choice?  And don’t get me started on those folk who put “Some people are scum – you know who you are” or “Amazing news, can’t tell you what though.”

Ooo I had a right rant there, didn’t I?  Sorry!  I know we can’t go back to writing with quills and need to keep up with our fast paced world.  As a self-employed creative, I do need a smart phone, of course I do.  We are expected to answer work emails immediately and be contactable or able to give social comment at all times.  I am also not judging those of you need to use their journey time to catch up on work, life is busy and we all have to juggle our time.  But I do urge you to look out of your train window (after you’ve finished reading this, of course!) and take time to enjoy your surroundings, rather than taking “selfies” to post online because we are missing the important moments around us. 

I think the London, Midland, Scottish Railway Company got their slogan spot-on.  After years of traipsing to un-identifiable white hotels to lie on a sun-lounger all in the name of ‘chilling out’ I actually found more relaxation and battery-charging time sitting outside a blue tent staring at the fells  of The Lakes.  We, sometimes, have to let our brains be quiet amid that hubbub called ‘life.’

And actors, I’ll finish with a quote from Michael Simkins’ new book “The Rules of Acting” (buy it, read it, now. http://www.amazon.co.uk/The-Rules-Acting-Michael-Simkins/dp/0091951283 )  Ralph Richardson explained to a young Michael, “all they (actors) need to do is to be able to dream.  If you can dream, you can act.” 

Please don’t lose the ability to dream.