In the same rehearsal venue as us are the kids of School Of Rock – a show that is high on my list to see. Every morning at 10 and every evening at 6 you see the real heroes, no not the kids but the parents waiting for their loved ones.
I recently had a delightfully reminiscent few hours with an old hoofer chum about our dancing years. Ah, those glory days long before the bones started to creak, hair recedes and magazines landed on my doorstep for middle aged must-haves.
Whilst sipping my free coffee (thank you Waitrose), I got to thinking about my idols and how they inspired and motivated me and just what it feels like to actually meet one of them – though in my case not in a supermarket!
Text can sometimes be a prison. At its best, postwar British theatre is a writer’s theatre, with the great pensmiths — from Samuel Beckett, John Osborne and Harold Pinter to Caryl Churchill, Martin Crimp and Sarah Kane — carving out visions of everyday humanity in all our agonies and glee.
According to Jullian Marsh in 42nd Street “The most glorious words in the english language are Musical Comedy”. How head spinning, toe tapping, leg kicking right he is! London is practically sinking under the weight of dance shows at the moment and I for one couldn’t be happier.
The Brangelina break-up got me to thinking of a theatrical bust-up that I once witnessed. Where no love was lost and divorce was inevitable! I was part of a show where the leading lady fired three leading men in quick succession.