✦—✦—✦•
It was unbelievable how quickly things started moving from there. First, we had another table read — this time it was timed, and Steven gave instructions on how he wanted some lines to be delivered. I borrowed one of the markers that Sarah brought. Turns out it may be one thing that actors use the most and certainly something I'd go through a lot in my life. Once the script had been gone through twice and some scenes in particular were explored deeper, Steven called it the end of the table read.
"Hi, I'm Ann Pereira. We just need you to sign some documents," Ann said to Nain.
Once she had us and the other two boys and their moms sat, Ann explained the process to our guardians. She informed us of the licences that the production had applied for and received. I was familiar with it because I had done Children of the New Forest. Council permissions, tutoring, and finally the chaperone were introduced to us.
I sat there as our parents or grandparents went through official documents, one such important documents was my school transfer papers. Officially, I was to no longer be a pupil in Woodfield Primary School; instead, I was joining Henry Fawcett Primary School — a place that I hadn't been to yet and probably wouldn't be for a while. I was almost sure that I'd have moved back to Chester by the time I was finished here. Production would instead provide a tutor and chaperone for the period we were contract for.
"Excuse me, Ann. Is your name Spanish?" I asked as we were leaving.
"No, it's Portuguese." She smiled at me.
"Ah, thanks. See you around." I said, hiding my disappointment.
Once I was back home, I wrote down everything I needed to do. First came my schedule, which I copied from the call sheet. I'd be rehearsing from Monday to Thursday, with Fridays off and additional day alternating between Saturday and Sunday. There were also fifteen hours of mandatory education to be covered by a tutor from Monday to Friday. Six days of school or work was going to be tough, but I could at least be relieved that things would settle down once the director was satisfied with most of it.
—✦—
The first day of music rehearsals started with forty actors. We had lost about a dozen actors who would perform animal roles. Mike Dixon played the piano or used a prerecorded performance from the band to teach us the singing parts.
"I want more of a marching tempo," Dixon was saying to Bryan. "Cut it out like Newley did in his — more spoken than sung."
Bryan didn't like that, and neither did any actors who had singing parts. Imagine being told as a singer that you have to do slam poetry instead of singing. Still, he did as the music director asked.
I went off to the side to talk to my new friends. James and Darien were both ten years old; for James, it would be his first play, and for Darien, his third. The only thing that was common between us was really our age group. James had light brown hair, Darien had blonde, while mine was dark. James was a lot more outspoken, while Darien was shy. For my part, I like to think I was the quiet one.
"Can you read this?" James asked, pointing at the musical notation.
"Yeah, I can teach you, but it may be better not to mess with Mr. Dixon," I said, eyeing the man. He was extremely nice every other time I met him, but today he was a tough taskmaster.
"Like learning ahead? No, I just want to understand what these mean. My mum doesn't know." He pointed to the other end of the hall, where I assumed his mother was.
I asked him to point at what he meant.
"That just means you have to sing an octave higher. That's just bar 20 of the song. See, those are the bars," I pointed to each line. "Melody for vocals," pointing, I noted the second bar, "this line is the piano for harmony, and that is the bass part of the piano."
"It's so confusing," James said, his eyes squinted and nose flared.
"How did you learn singing?" I asked, curious.
"Dad loves playing guitar. I sing, he plays, simple stuff." James shrugged.
"Do you know guitar chords?"
"Yeah," James said.
"Brilliant." I chuckled and took my pen to his folder.
He tried to stop me, but I slapped his hands playfully. I drew a B7 chord notation, then E minor 7, A7, D major, augmented G. This was a brain teaser of an entirely different kind — something that I understood natively and never had to put down on paper.
"Do you understand it now?" I asked, a bit smugly.
"Yeah. How'd you know to do that?" James asked; even he seemed impressed.
"I combine the piano treble and bass notations to get the full chord, then translate it to guitar chord notations," I said, trying to explain it, but by the time I finished, James was even more confused.
"Anyway, you get this now, right?" I pointed to the chords over the lyrics.
"Yeah, I'm used to this," James nodded.
Musicians were a weird folk if you looked at them from the outside. I had translated standard sheet music just because James couldn't read it, but I hadn't given him the notes he should sing at. No, that would be too simple. He was more used to the guitar accompaniment, meaning that he now knew the notes guitar would play. Simply, he knew the harmony but not the note he would sing — that he needed to translate in his own mind. D major I gave could be sung in three different notes that made the chord. In my opinion, he'd need to learn sheet music if he expected to go any farther in musical theatre. It was a necessary skill and he wouldn't have to guess the notes that fit and instead just sing the notes as the writer wanted.
Darien hadn't reacted much to it, except when I was making guitar notations. That kid knew sheet music — it told you something about a person. A ten-year-old who could sight-read like that had clearly had tutoring and music lessons from an early age, and probably played the piano too. It went without saying that he was talented — he'd beaten out hundreds of kids for the role, after all. The same could be said for me, though I'd never touched a guitar, not even in my past life. Still, if I were just an ordinary person, you'd probably assume I played one.
"Hey, boys. Come 'ere," Dixon shouted down the hall.
All of us came over and started the practice for [Doctor Dolittle], the song with the same title as the play and probably the only song that I would get to actually show off my pipes with. After a whole verse of Bryan singing, us kids were supposed to join, making somewhat of a duet with Bryan. We took turns as the man with pierced ears, unkempt beard and English teeth judged us. Dixon clearly cared for music more than for his appearance.
"Great, now try it a bit higher." Dixon said to me. I was pretty sure I was on pitch but, whatever.
EVERY CALF STARTS TO MOO WHEN THEY SEE DOLITTLE
EVEN THE FEW WHO USED TO MOO LITTLE
FOR ALL THE BIRDS AND BEASTS AGREE HE HAS A PROFOUND PHILOSOPHY
SO WHY CAN'T WE?
…
WHY CAN'T.
…
DOLITTLE
…
DOLITTLE
…
WHY CAN'T WE
…
DO LITTLE THINGS TO HELP HIM
…
CAN'T WE
These were the only parts I got to sing in a much larger and longer song. It also happened to be the only song where my voice would be prominently featured instead of joining the ensemble and disappearing in the harmony. Thus, I wasn't really surprised why my music rehearsals were almost nothing compared to the acting, dancing, and blocking rehearsals marked out in my timetable.
"Hey, that was amazing." Bryan held up a hand for me to high-five. I did, with a smile.
Bryan was the most typically above average British guy — imagine Hugh Grant but fifty percent less handsome and with ten percent more fat. His most distinctive feature was his height and sing songy Irish accent, which I assumed was the only reason he wasn't a stunt double for Hugh Grant.
"You have a great voice," I said honestly.
"You as well — all three of you," Bryan added.
"Is this the first time for you kids doing theatre?" All three of us shook our heads.
Bryan shook his head comically as he joked about being the most inexperienced actor. Turns out James had done some school plays and performed once for a regional theatre. Darien was definitely the most experienced. I got to learn that Bryan himself was in musical theatre for the first time. We spoke about our shared experiences — how interesting it was that most of the principal actors were debutants on the stage.
"How are you so good already?" I asked, unable to hide my shock.
Bryan chuckled. "I'm paying two thousand pounds a week for vocal training. Mary Hammond — best there is."
"Oh," I let out. That was so much money.
"'Course, now I'll only see her once in a while. But definitely worth it."
We quieted down as someone started to sing. Phillip was singing his songs and clearly having some trouble with everything except the singing. In fact, he was almost as good as Bryan, but he was incredibly shy. You wouldn't expect a television presenter to be shy, but as he took the side of the piano to stand in the spotlight, he'd seemingly fold in on himself. The awkwardness, mumbling, stammers, and more — then the piano would start playing and that shy Phillip disappeared. Instead, you would see a natural showman and singer — bright smile and glittering eyes. His rendition of [Talk to the Animals] had all of us stop our murmured conversation to listen. I could see the vision for why a TV presenter, of all things, was cast in the titular role.
"He's brilliant, after all," Bryan narrowed his eyes.
I silently agreed, and for the first song he ever sang in front of the rest of the cast, Phillip received a standing ovation. I was still getting used to theatre folks; there was a stereotype I had heard from John Rawnsley about film actors and theatre actors. You'd find the friendliest actors in the theatre and the biggest divas in film. So far, I had only been on one TV series, but I could believe it. Theatre on the other hand was different. Close your eyes and imagine a room filled with dozens of golden retrievers. It's almost like that. For someone with my personality, it was quite a change of environment. Everyone was too friendly in our rehearsal hall and it showed after each performance.
Phillip walked over to us after getting his laurels from the rest of the cast.
"My god, was I any good?" Phillip asked us, face unbelieving.
"Yes, you were brilliant — but if you want more compliments, you'll have it in spades," Bryan laughed and hugged Phillip.
"Thanks, Bryan," Phillip said almost too quietly. His eyes shifted to us boys.
"Hi, who are these? Bryan, you'd better introduce me to your friends," Phillip said his hands on his heart.
For some reason, I felt a cold sweat trickle down my back.
"Ah, these are the three musketeers. The next big thing in theatre;" Bryan put on a voice like boxing announcers, "From Vauxhall Station comes your next sensation, Oval Station welcomes new lobal Sensation!" he said all puffed up.
"You can't rhyme the same words twice!" James laughed.
"I can and just did." Bryan shook James gently.
"Three of them are more experienced than I am," Bryan said, introducing us one by one.
Phillip tasted each of our names on his tongue. Each time he'd say our names he'd shake our hands with both hands.
"Good to meet you, boys. If you want any help, talk to me. I'm not Sarah, but I am always there." Phillip winked.
"Do you mean our Sarah or your Sarah?" Bryan asked laughing.
Phillip's cohost on the show was called Sarah, our Emma Fairfax was also called Sarah.
Phillip's smile faltered, his lips pressed together as he leaned back.
A loud clap went off — like a gunshot, it stopped all the scattered conversations of the cast.
"Let's try our first company songs, shall we?" Dixon said to a loud cheer.