Don't panic, it's not all about me.....need to have a quick chat about some Ghost boat thing.

If you regularly read this drivel you may have noticed that I have a penchant for opera at the cinema. I like seeing opera in this way because the atmosphere in a cinema compared to an opera house is so chilled out and the place is unlikely to sell out so you tend to find yourself having a whole row to yourself and nobody notices if you fall asleep. Always a bonus.

I used to love opera. I still appreciate it but I can't say I love it now. To be fair watching in a cinema is no substitute for seeing the genre live really. The sound in a cinema, no matter how good, can never replicate the power of the voice of an opera singer going at full pelt. There are advantages though. As long as you don't have a chorus who feel it necessary to react to every tiny little thing, being up close, in the middle of the action can be quite exciting. Having said that you are at the mercy of the editor as to what you get to see as they will decide what we as an audience need to see at any particular moment in time but that's just a small quibble.

I am not a fan of Wagner. Last night I saw, in it's entirety, only my second Wagner opera. I saw "Die Walküre" a couple of years back, again at the cinema, and last night I saw the ROH production of "Der fliegende Holländer" with the mighty Bryn Terfel and Adrianne Pieczonka. The singing was stonkingly good, truly fantastic. Bryn was brooding and dark while Pieczonka was hopeful and bright. I have always loved Pieczonka. I think she has the most incredible instrument housed in her body. It is a big voice but because of the shimmer she has at the top you never feel like she is beating you over the head with it the way some dramatic female voices do. She is also a stunningly good actress. It is an overused phrase these days but she really is a true stage animal. 

These two giants of the operatic world were joined by another giant but one who was feeling a little under the weather so an announcement was made at the beginning to ask us to bear with him. They needn't have as far as we in the cinema were concerned, Peter Rose was actually on good form. Totally holding his own as Daland with the other two even if he did resemble a Sontaran from Doctor Who. The chorus, too, were better than I have heard them in a while. The regular chorus were joined by a large number of extra chorus members and I kind of wish I had been in the theatre itself as at one point the stage was filled with men. Don't get the wrong idea, I wish I had been there because the sound must have been enormous.

All in all, I enjoyed it and the two and a bit hours, no interval, flew by. It was a surprise when the end came as it felt there should be another hour to go. This was where I got confused. I wasn't totally up on the story before I went to see it but I knew the legend of the Flying Dutchman and figured that Bryn Terfel's character was probably not going to get the girl, well not in the conventional sense anyway. I am assuming Senta is supposed to be seen doing summat she shouldn't with Erik to make the Dutchman spurn her and set sail alone but in this production she didn't appear to do anything (I might have missed it of course). Then I assumed, after Senta yells after him (The Dutchman that is) that she will remain true to him until death, she would probably kill herself but she just carried her little model boat, she had had since the beginning, to the centre of the stage and cried a bit. A total anticlimax.

That said I had a nice time. Still not convinced by Wagner though. Now, feel free to stop reading here as I am going to write a teeny tiny bit about my cabaret that DID happen on Sunday. So if you are fed up of hearing about it please go about your business and think no more about it.

There was a good turnout, about 44 people turned up (mostly friends or friends of friends, I think there were only 7 people who had no connection to me in attendance) so it was more successful in that respect than I had been expecting. It was only once it was done that I realised what an undertaking it had been. The running times were 45 minutes first half and 40 minutes second half. That is a LONG time to hold your own. I totally understand why people invite "guests" to join them on the stage during these affairs. Takes the pressure off a bit.

Everybody asked afterwards "did you enjoy it?". The honest answer was no, but not in a bad way. I didn't hate it and I want to do it again, and I want to do it again soon, but as a friend said to me, Sunday night was like having your tech rehearsal, dress rehearsal and first night (and last night) all at the same time. This was the first time I had tried out the show. In the future it might be an idea to rent a small hall and invite a few friends to come and see it for free just to give myself the opportunity to try out my material to see what works and what doesn't. To be fair there wasn't much I would change in the material I had but I hope I can deliver it better next time. I forgot a lot and got a bit lost at times, however, I am not terrible at getting myself out of a hole so I don't think I made any of my audience feel uncomfortable when I lost my way.

With hindsight, I am SO proud of myself for getting up and doing it. There is a huge difference between doing a 25 minute set on a bill with 3 other acts and what was, effectively, a one-woman show with 90 minutes of just me (and, of course, the wonderful Simona Budd on the piano). This was an immense achievement and one I need to do again. Who would have thought that 4 years of opera training would have led to this.

If anyone is interested in reading someone else's opinion of Sunday night then follow this link:

How did it come to this? The Pheasantry

1 week to go.....well 6 days....is that right?

So, less than a week until I finally do this Pheasantry thing. It has been a LONG time coming. Do not fret, I will stop going on about it very, very soon. 

With less than a week to go what do I decide would be a good thing to do? Go on holiday. I say holiday, do a couple of days just North of Blackpool constitute a holiday? In my world it does that's for sure. I don't really do holidays. Anyway, on my trip up to Blackpool yesterday (Sunday) I was listening to Elaine Paige's radio show on Radio 2 (the greatest radio station in the world!) when she said something along the lines of "there are great things coming up this week at The Pheasantry". My ears pricked up, my heart started beating ridiculously fast, would she get to Sunday? Would I get a mention on Elaine Paige on Sunday? No! She went as far as Saturday as some fabulous musical theatre singer is doing a few nights this week. I'm not quite famous enough for EP. Yet.

I am far too nervous already to talk more about this right now so I will just leave you with the link to buy tickets. Please come along if you can. If I can  get enough people to cover Simona's fee for playing the Joanna and the filming of the event I will consider the evening a success. Of course my dream is to have to turn people away the place is so rammed on the night but, this time, I reckon that is a pipe dream.

Where the heck have you been?

So it has been a LONG time since I last posted. I apologise. I have been preoccupied with all sorts of stuff recently and therefore not been able to put fingers to keyboard to write for a while (does anyone remember when the phrase used to be "pen to paper"? To be fair, it is still a phrase I have just come up with a new one. I say I've come up with a new one, I am pretty sure I am not the first person to coin it). So what do you have to tell us, I hear you cry?

Well, I did a concert. It is true. I did a concert. A proper one with an orchestra and everything. 'Twas in the depths of Welsh Wales, well Cwmbran, at the Congress Theatre with the Welsh Musical Theatre Orchestra. So I am pretty sure you will have deduced it was an evening of musical theatre loveliness. I got to sing stuff I have been dying to sing for years all with the added thrill that it was with orchestra. Apart from a small (coughs) mess up in "You Could Drive a Person Crazy" (to be fair I am a soprano and I was on the bottom harmony line and, as everyone knows, sopranos don't do harmony) it was a stupendously good evening that helped me realise why I chose this as a career and why it should still be my career. As a consequence I am off back to Cwmbran on the 5th December to do a little lunchtime thing at the Congress Theatre with the orchestra's conductor, Andrew Hopkins so, yes folks, that means I am doing another gig. 3 in one year, I might be able to call myself a professional singer again if this keeps up.

The good thing about doing this little shindig on the 5th December is it gives me a chance to try out a few bits and pieces I will be performing at The Pheasantry on the 22nd February 2015. For those who don't know (or don't remember as I am so lazy and have not posted in so long), following my little stint as part of "Cabaret Confidential", Paul L Martin invited me to put together a whole evening of just me (and, of course, the brilliant Simona Budd at the piano). The evening has a title and a poster so it is pretty much ready to go (once I have decided on an actual programme) and it is this I would like to share with you right now. It is subject to change so do not hold me to everything I have included on the poster. You can't book yet but there are only 80 something tickets available so book early to avoid disappointment I say (I will post again when tickets become available).

In the meantime this is a taste of what might be to come:

Small addition to post:

OMG I have just seen that my blog has had over 20,000 views. I thank you all for reading. Roll on 25,000.

You can't teach an old dog new tricks.......actually, turns out you can.

So, it has been a couple of weeks since my infamous cabaret (infamous to me, nobody else) and I feel ridiculously excited at the prospect of doing more. I always thought I would love or hate the experience and now, having had time to reflect, I am more certain that I loved every moment. Not only every moment of the actual show but everything that happened beforehand.

In these uncertain times with shows closing left, right and centre I am more sure than ever that making my own work is the way to go. I want to be in control. No one is going to say no to me doing my own show because I am too fat/thin/ugly/gorgeous/tall/short/northern because I decide what I sing, what I say, when I sing, where I sing (to some extent). Yes, this path will bring it's own set of problems. The buck stops with me but then I have always been headstrong and always hated being told what to do.

I have so much respect for friends of mine who think outside the box. My friend Caroline Sabiston is a prime example. To cope with those "rest" periods we actors have to endure she has started her own production company up in the North East and is creating her own work. Visit her company's Facebook page here and give it a like. Caroline is just one example of many of my performer friends sidestepping and trying something else to keep themselves sane.

Anyway, having come down from my cloud I have been thinking I need to keep up the momentum and organise more shows. So, imagine my delight at being approached to do my own solo show! A few days after my slot at The Pheasantry I was asked if I would like to put together a full show. A show of two halves with an interval and everything. Of course I said yes and am now beginning to put together new material. 

When I was at Huddersfield Technical College, many moons ago, I always had a hankering to be a stand up comedian. Me and me mate Kathryn would spend hours reciting French and Saunders sketches whenever we had a break from classes, and sometimes during. Now, do not get me wrong here, I do not consider myself a stand up comedian. Not at all. However, I was so pleased with the chatty bits I came up with between songs and even more pleased that people laughed with me (I hope not at me). All I hope is I can think of equally amusing anecdotes for the rest of the show. I do feel that I have realised, on a very low level, that dream (for want of a better word) I had when I was 16.

So, watch this space for more details, when I know them, about the new show. It will be back at The Pheasantry and will also feature Simona Budd at the piano again. This time, though, I will be responsible for filling the place. Last time I only had to coerce 20 people into coming, this time it's 88 so if you are free (when I know when it will be) please come. For those who didn't see my first show here is a little taster. Enjoy!

I'm King of the World....well Queen of, but that isn't really a thing.

So, Thursday the 10th of July came and went. My cabaret happened. Nobody died, well someone, somewhere in the world will have died but not as a result of my singing. All went, almost, to plan. I was remarkably calm and collected and totally ready for it. I, kind of, pretended I was really nervous but, by the time people arrived, I had resigned myself to the fact that I had to either just do it or fake a heart attack and get taken to hospital. Even I am not prone to such dramatic outbursts so I got on the stage and I did my 20/25 minutes of, well, something.

The Pheasantry, a Pizza Express on the King's Road, is SUCH a nice place to sing. I did not have to push, I had no problem hearing myself and the acoustic was (to me whilst singing) nice and pingy (technical term). I say I didn't have to push, this was, at least partly due to the fact that I chose not to sing anything that went above an F (an octave and a bit above middle C for those who understand such things) so, as a soprano, this was akin to a night off. I was in total control of my voice which is a feeling I have not had in an awfully long time. 

There was a tiny, nervous wobble in my first song which resulted in one of two moments of forgetfulness but for the first time ever, and I mean ever, it did not bother me and I just turned it into part of the "act". If the same happened in a musical or opera I would be beating myself up for days and, if the performance were to be repeated, be sitting in a corner rocking whilst reciting the words over and over again in an attempt to stop the same thing happening again. In this particular instance I actually enjoyed, I think that is the word I want to use, the way it added to everything. I am not planning to work this word slippage into my performances from now on but it is so nice to feel that it won't bother me if it happens again in future performances, and it inevitably will.

Remembering of words was the ONLY thing I was worried about, the only thing I was nervous about. For the first time in my performing life I felt I knew exactly what I was doing and that I was in total control. This feeling was cultivated with the help of my pianist, Simona Budd. Although we had only met once before the show I felt totally at ease and totally supported. She listens, to the point of it feeling like she was reading my mind at one moment, and went with everything I did. This happens rarely. I have only worked with a handful of pianists who I have this kind of connection with and she has definitely been added to the very short list. 

I was exceedingly lucky that I had an amazing audience who were supportive from the off. Not just because I had many, many wonderful friends there but the general vibe in the room was so calming. There was excitement but no huge, unreachable expectations. You could feel every, single person willing the people on stage to do well. Although you can not always be lucky enough to have this sort of support at every gig I was so, so grateful that I did for my first attempt at cabaret. It was lovely to surprise everyone in the room and exceed their, not unreachable, expectations, however, it was even more satisfying and surprising to have exceeded my own. I am hopelessly self critical so, for me, the fact that I LOVED every single second of my set and, even though things did go "wrong" they actually didn't as I would not have wanted the things that went wrong to have gone right as they made the whole experience even more special as I handled the mistakes in my own way and didn't apologise for my very existence (sorry for the long sentence). Apologising for my existence is something I am prone to do most of the time.

A friend of mine, who has done shows at The Pheasantry before, said something to me that summed up my experience. She didn't actually get to see me strut my stuff but she said the experience is "quite empowering once you start". This hit the nail on the head for me. I think the fact that it was my own material (not the songs, I did not write them) created a sense of achievement in myself I have not had before. I had put together 5 songs and found a way to link them and written blurb to say in between that people actually laughed at. I think the fact that people actually, genuinely laughed, not that fake laughing people can do to try to keep your spirits up when it really isn't funny, was the most thrilling and empowering thing about it. For the first time in a long time I feel I am good at something again.

So what next, I hear you cry? I, for one, can not wait to do it again. I already have another 20 minutes planned out in my head so put it together with what I already have that is, count it, a 40 minute set. So watch this space as, hopefully, there will be much more to come. 

After all these years and all that training, all those big shows and tours who would have thought that 20 minutes on a tiny stage in Chelsea, just me and a fabulous pianist, would make for the best 20 minutes I have experienced on a stage. Ever!