In the immortal words of Johnny Logan, "What's another year?"

It seems appropriate that I reach a landmark (albeit short) blog post on the eve of my 41st birthday. This is, believe it or not, my 50th diary entry. It feels like more but I am surprised I have made it to 50 (there have been more than 50 posts but some of them were just amendments and apologies so they don't count).

So it has been an eventful year, sort of. I finally did the cabaret I had been droning on about doing (no plans to do it again) and decided that teaching is possibly not for me as a full time venture. Having done it full time (not really FULL time) for the past 3 years I know I don't want to do just that for the next 3. My endeavours to inspire myself into actually doing some singing practice and preparation for any auditions that might come my way will continue tonight with a trip to the Coliseum in London to see "Sweeney Todd". My trip to "Gypsy" on Saturday helped in the inspiration department so hopefully Emma Thompson will add fuel to the motivation fire started by Imelda Staunton.

What would really help, though, would be a few calls from my agent with a few interesting auditions. To be honest I would take uninteresting auditions right now to brush up and refresh my audition skills (not that I have many skills in that department, I am rubbish at auditioning). The fact I am so bad at auditioning is probably why I have tried to embrace teaching as an alternative career. I am not alone in my fear and dread of auditioning, I know. It is a necessary evil that has not got any easier for me. The more comfortable and stable my life got as my hours teaching increased the more I started to think I should just do that and forget about my performing career.

I don't want to forget it though. Unfortunately the thought of letting people down fills me with the same dread that auditioning brings. I said to one of my students a few weeks back "If I am here in 2 years time we will think about you having a solo in the next show" to which she replied "You'd better be here. You can't leave!" This response, although highly flattering, made me feel sick to my stomach. The thought of disappointing anyone makes me want to cry. Kids adapt, though, so I am trying not to take her words to heart. Easier said than done. I feel ever so guilty about the fact that I probably will leave one day but then I tend to live in a perpetual state of guilt anyway so that's nothing new.

Anyway, I will prepare myself to witness greatness tonight (fingers crossed) and prepare mentally for the addition of a year to my age tomorrow. For now I will try to enjoy my last day as a 40 year old. I will let you know my thoughts on Sweeney in due course, whether you want them or not!

"If I could've been, I would've been. And that's show business".....Hmm that's a scary thought right now.

So, this diary entry was to have been more on the travesty of "cross over" artists but, to be honest, I bore myself even thinking about it. It is was it is. If people enjoy listening to some sub standard soprano killing "O mio babbino caro" on the radio (or on The Voice) who am I to set them straight. A few years ago I would have had the arrogance to tell all those people who enjoy the work of the likes of Katherine Jenkins that they were fools but now I think each to their own. I am past caring. My days of getting angry and up in arms about how ordinary folk are being duped are at an end. As far as I am concerned if you like something who am I to try and tell you you are wrong. That is my final word on the subject (for now).


So on to something far more worthy of my time. "Gypsy" and, particularly, Imelda Staunton. Not wanting to go into too much personal detail (another singing blogger saw fit to describe his vasectomy in his latest blog post!) it is no secret that I am going through a period of change (not THE change I should point out). I am not sure what I should be doing with my life and am finding motivation difficult to muster. I decided recently I should at least try to sort myself, specifically my head, out and decided a few trips to the theatre might be in order. And boy did I pick a humdinger to start with.


Last night I attended the opening preview of "Gypsy" at the Savoy Theatre. "Gypsy", in my humble opinion, is the perfect musical. Perfect in the fact that you forget it is a musical, even when they are singing. It was a strange thing. I knew music was happening, I could hear it but it comes from nowhere. There are no big set ups no "cues for a song". The songs just happen and their inclusion always makes sense. It is not short, coming in at around 2 hours 50 but it never feels long. Of course this is the first production of "Gypsy" I have seen so it could be that it was the perfect musical along with the perfect cast, perfect director, perfect choreographer, perfect band. Whatever the case it was perfect.


The reason I decided to see this particular show was because of Imelda Staunton. I missed her Mrs Lovett and decided there was no way I was missing her Momma Rose hence I booked for the first preview. She is a phenomenon. She is undoubtedly the star of the show but she doesn't overshadow the rest of the cast. She is so utterly generous to her fellow cast mates and enables them to match her but, try as you might, you can't take your eyes off her when she is on stage. I now understand the meaning of the word mesmerising.


I have had 3 experiences at the theatre that have felt "life changing". The first was seeing Angela Gheorghiu in "Romeo and Juliet" at the Royal Opera House, the second, Karita Mattila in "The Queen of Spades", again, at the Royal Opera House but last night was another level. Last nights performance by Imelda Staunton was one of those life changing experiences that was so incredibly awe inspiring but also makes you contemplate giving up because you know you could never be as good as she is.


The moment that will stick with me was near the end just after "Rose's Turn" (a master class in commanding the stage) when Louise says to Rose, something along the lines of, "You could've been great" to which Rose replies "If I could've been, I would've been. And that's show business". At this point in my life that is a sobering thought. Do I stop now because I have little self belief or do I keep trying in the hope that, eventually, I will make it and I won't ever have to think about what could've been? I am not sure at this exact moment in time what is the best course of action for me but last night's experience has left me with this bubbling excitement and a feeling that I do still want to get out there and do something.


I teach, a lot, at the moment and, although I enjoy it (sort of) I am not certain that it is my calling. A small part of me knows that I am a performer and thankfully that part of me tends to shout louder than the bit of me that thinks I should give up. I always thought I would come into my own when I was older. The thing I find difficult right now is getting back on the merry-go-round. Once you get off it is REALLY hard finding a way back on. It is also difficult going back to that uncertain life of a performer when you have been given the opportunity to make a decent wage in a "normal" job. The thing is I have never been normal so, really, I was never cut out for a normal job.