- Published on
It’s a bleak and dismal day in New York. The mercury deigned to get out of bed and rise to 4C/39F, but it’s very seriously considering just going back to sleep and leaving the rest of us to freeze. In solidarity, the rain is cold and wet and alternating between liquid and icy particles. It’s a day for hot chocolates and snuggling under a doona and reading a good novel.
My running training app does not factor in weather. It cares not for snow storms or rainy days or 40C/104F days. The delightful thing is that 10 weeks into my training program for the Brooklyn Half (less than two months to go!), I’m finally at a point where I too am not deterred by the weather. My muscles want to go running. They feel better when they run. Running feels good.
So, even though looking out the window was not enticing for a run, I put on my sneakers, donned a bright pink beanie, and headed to the park.
On a nice day, Prospect Park is filled with hundreds of runners and walkers and bikers and rollerbladers. Today, I counted a grand total of five other people. We all smiled and waved as we passed each other. You’re out in this too! Look at us go!
While humans were scarce, the geese were out in force. Heads down, bums up, they were waddling through the mud collecting juicy worms bought up by the rain.
By the end of the run, my jacket was drenched from the rain, but I felt warm and fuzzy. Running feels good again! 5.5km feels easy again! And like the ducks and geese, I’m celebrating in the rain.
My running training app does not factor in weather. It cares not for snow storms or rainy days or 40C/104F days. The delightful thing is that 10 weeks into my training program for the Brooklyn Half (less than two months to go!), I’m finally at a point where I too am not deterred by the weather. My muscles want to go running. They feel better when they run. Running feels good.
So, even though looking out the window was not enticing for a run, I put on my sneakers, donned a bright pink beanie, and headed to the park.
On a nice day, Prospect Park is filled with hundreds of runners and walkers and bikers and rollerbladers. Today, I counted a grand total of five other people. We all smiled and waved as we passed each other. You’re out in this too! Look at us go!
While humans were scarce, the geese were out in force. Heads down, bums up, they were waddling through the mud collecting juicy worms bought up by the rain.
By the end of the run, my jacket was drenched from the rain, but I felt warm and fuzzy. Running feels good again! 5.5km feels easy again! And like the ducks and geese, I’m celebrating in the rain.
- Published on
Working in front of house at the Cambridge Theatre in London. (Photo by Mercedes Esteban, aka Mum!)
Someone once asked me when I was going to quit front of house and get a “real job”. It may not be the most complex or highly skilled form of employment on the planet, but being a part of ensuring the safety, well-being, and enjoyable experience for up to 1900 people in a room eight times a week is a real job. And one that I absolutely love.
I have worked in front of house, on and off, for over a decade. I’ve been an usher in Sydney, London, and New York. I’ve worked in tiny black box theatres, an opera house (not the Sydney one, though I have sung there with various choirs), and commercial theatres with up to 1900 seats. It’s a job that was my staple through two degrees, and been my constant while I try and get a job on the stage. Australian performer Paul Capsis started out as an usher. As did Caroline O’Connor.
Becoming an usher occurred thanks to a fortuitous happenstance. I was at university in Sydney, and one day was babysitting a cousin in the city. My aunt and I agreed to meet at the MLC Center. I was a little early and saw a sign for the Theatre Royal. I was on the look out for a new job, and decided to go in and ask if they were hiring. I met the delightful Trish Charan, who remains to this day one of the best bosses and human beings on the planet. I interviewed, got the job, and officially left seven years later when I moved to London.
I love getting paid to watch theatre. I love being on a long run and being able to see the same show 8 times a week. On a good show, it’s like being paid to take a masterclass. On a weaker show, it’s a masterclass in how not to do theatre. Terrible shows are when the front of house team really bands together.
On a long run, the show itself (usually) remains the same, but understudies, new cast members, and the audience itself, can make every night new.
The house has a different feel for each show. School groups, groups of pensioners, matinees, Friday nights, shows on or around significant holidays, all impact the feel of the room and the smoothness of an evening.
It’s not always wonderful. Constantly telling people to turn their goddamn phones off and explaining for the umpteenth time, that “No, silent mode is not off. The screen is glowing, therefore it is on. Please. Turn. It. Off.”
Constantly reminding people they cannot take photos or film the show. You weren’t taking a photo of your child. You weren’t just checking a message. WE CAN SEE YOU. STOP DOING IT.
Explaining late seating. Explaining that yes, your 3 month old baby does require a ticket.
Dealing with drunk patrons. Dealing with screaming babies. Dealing with the couple who decided they would just pop forward to the empty seats in the middle of the front row once the lights went down and refusing to move when the latecomers arrive for those seats.
I’ve watched a couple pick each others noses. I’ve heard plenty of stories of frisky couples who just couldn’t wait to get home and thought they couldn’t be seen in the dark (you can be seen, and, yes, we’re watching you). I’ve seen a few people faint. I’ve seen a drunk woman run onto the stage at curtain call. I've helped deal with patrons whose tickets were stolen. I've seen people turn up on the wrong night. I've seen people show up at the finale asking to be let in.
It’s the live immediacy that I love. Hearing the collective gasp of an audience. Seeing an audience erupt with waves of appreciation and joy at the curtain call. Talking with patrons at intermission and hearing their stories. The thrill that courses through the front of house team when there’s a celebrity in. It's not every day you get to sell a program to the Queen of Spain.
The people I’ve had the pleasure of working with make is what makes front of house one of the best jobs. Most are “resting” actors, performers in-between gigs (or still waiting for gigs). There are also researchers, medical students, artists, writers, and retirees. People from all walks of life, all different backgrounds who share a love of theatre. You become close working together 8 shows a week for months on end.
It’s not the most glamorous or well-paid (especially in the U.S.) job, but I love it. If I’m lucky, one day I’ll be one of the white-haired treasures who've been ushering for a thousand years.
Until my job is being on the stage, I'll happily take your tickets, show you to your seat, and join you in celebrating the joy of participating in live theatre. It's one of the most unreal jobs in the world.
I have worked in front of house, on and off, for over a decade. I’ve been an usher in Sydney, London, and New York. I’ve worked in tiny black box theatres, an opera house (not the Sydney one, though I have sung there with various choirs), and commercial theatres with up to 1900 seats. It’s a job that was my staple through two degrees, and been my constant while I try and get a job on the stage. Australian performer Paul Capsis started out as an usher. As did Caroline O’Connor.
Becoming an usher occurred thanks to a fortuitous happenstance. I was at university in Sydney, and one day was babysitting a cousin in the city. My aunt and I agreed to meet at the MLC Center. I was a little early and saw a sign for the Theatre Royal. I was on the look out for a new job, and decided to go in and ask if they were hiring. I met the delightful Trish Charan, who remains to this day one of the best bosses and human beings on the planet. I interviewed, got the job, and officially left seven years later when I moved to London.
I love getting paid to watch theatre. I love being on a long run and being able to see the same show 8 times a week. On a good show, it’s like being paid to take a masterclass. On a weaker show, it’s a masterclass in how not to do theatre. Terrible shows are when the front of house team really bands together.
On a long run, the show itself (usually) remains the same, but understudies, new cast members, and the audience itself, can make every night new.
The house has a different feel for each show. School groups, groups of pensioners, matinees, Friday nights, shows on or around significant holidays, all impact the feel of the room and the smoothness of an evening.
It’s not always wonderful. Constantly telling people to turn their goddamn phones off and explaining for the umpteenth time, that “No, silent mode is not off. The screen is glowing, therefore it is on. Please. Turn. It. Off.”
Constantly reminding people they cannot take photos or film the show. You weren’t taking a photo of your child. You weren’t just checking a message. WE CAN SEE YOU. STOP DOING IT.
Explaining late seating. Explaining that yes, your 3 month old baby does require a ticket.
Dealing with drunk patrons. Dealing with screaming babies. Dealing with the couple who decided they would just pop forward to the empty seats in the middle of the front row once the lights went down and refusing to move when the latecomers arrive for those seats.
I’ve watched a couple pick each others noses. I’ve heard plenty of stories of frisky couples who just couldn’t wait to get home and thought they couldn’t be seen in the dark (you can be seen, and, yes, we’re watching you). I’ve seen a few people faint. I’ve seen a drunk woman run onto the stage at curtain call. I've helped deal with patrons whose tickets were stolen. I've seen people turn up on the wrong night. I've seen people show up at the finale asking to be let in.
It’s the live immediacy that I love. Hearing the collective gasp of an audience. Seeing an audience erupt with waves of appreciation and joy at the curtain call. Talking with patrons at intermission and hearing their stories. The thrill that courses through the front of house team when there’s a celebrity in. It's not every day you get to sell a program to the Queen of Spain.
The people I’ve had the pleasure of working with make is what makes front of house one of the best jobs. Most are “resting” actors, performers in-between gigs (or still waiting for gigs). There are also researchers, medical students, artists, writers, and retirees. People from all walks of life, all different backgrounds who share a love of theatre. You become close working together 8 shows a week for months on end.
It’s not the most glamorous or well-paid (especially in the U.S.) job, but I love it. If I’m lucky, one day I’ll be one of the white-haired treasures who've been ushering for a thousand years.
Until my job is being on the stage, I'll happily take your tickets, show you to your seat, and join you in celebrating the joy of participating in live theatre. It's one of the most unreal jobs in the world.
- Published on
There are performers
Audra, Julie, Bernadette, Liza, Patti, Chita, Barbra, Bette
Whose reputations precede them
“Living legends”
“Broadway Divas”
It’s one thing to watch your heroes on the screen
Over and over again in your living room
To listen to the cast recordings and soundtracks on repeat
But nothing beats the real life
In the flesh
Live performance
There’s always a little fear in seeing them
What if they’re not as good as they are on film?
What if they just don’t got it anymore
You hear stories
When I saw Liza in 2013
Friends warned against even buying tickets
She had a reputation for not showing up
And sure, her top notes weren’t what they once were
But she was breath-taking
And last night
I got to see Bette
When she appeared on stage
The audience leapt to its feet
The love in that room was overwhelming
(Roxy: I love the audience and they love me and we just love each other...)
Can Bette sing as high as she used to?
Does she dance like she used to?
Does she do it like Barbra?
No.
But Bette doesn’t need to be Barbra
She’s Bette
And when you see her on that stage
You know why Bette Midler is Bette “the Divine Miss M” Midler
She radiates warmth and energy and charisma
She's damn funny
And boy does she know how to work a room
The great thing about a show like Hello, Dolly
Is that it’s written for an older woman
It doesn’t require huge belting because
Dolly uses her charm and humor and wits to navigate the world
And you fall in love with her over and over again
The production is sumptuous and gorgeously realized
The costumes border on garish they are so bright
The color palette is like something out of a technicolor candy store
Are we in heaven or in danger of overdoing on sugar?
Jerry Herman’s score is sublime. You can’t help but feel happy
The vocal arrangements gave me goosebumps
Those harmonies just lift your soul and make you want to dance
The gorgeous choreography
Expertly executed by a delightful ensemble
It’s all a visual and auditory feast
That manages to be a wholly separate experience from the movie
It is uplifting and marvelous musical theatre
At its best
It’s not perfect
While there were people of color in the ensemble
I would love to have seen more diverse casting in the supporting roles
The performers were truly terrific, but the overwhelming whiteness is frustrating
I dreamt about the show all night
And woke up still on a high
After a tough few weeks battling a particularly nasty bout of depression
This infusion of light has been desperately needed
So thank you Miss Midler
And your luminous team
For doing what you do
And doing it so well.
Audra, Julie, Bernadette, Liza, Patti, Chita, Barbra, Bette
Whose reputations precede them
“Living legends”
“Broadway Divas”
It’s one thing to watch your heroes on the screen
Over and over again in your living room
To listen to the cast recordings and soundtracks on repeat
But nothing beats the real life
In the flesh
Live performance
There’s always a little fear in seeing them
What if they’re not as good as they are on film?
What if they just don’t got it anymore
You hear stories
When I saw Liza in 2013
Friends warned against even buying tickets
She had a reputation for not showing up
And sure, her top notes weren’t what they once were
But she was breath-taking
And last night
I got to see Bette
When she appeared on stage
The audience leapt to its feet
The love in that room was overwhelming
(Roxy: I love the audience and they love me and we just love each other...)
Can Bette sing as high as she used to?
Does she dance like she used to?
Does she do it like Barbra?
No.
But Bette doesn’t need to be Barbra
She’s Bette
And when you see her on that stage
You know why Bette Midler is Bette “the Divine Miss M” Midler
She radiates warmth and energy and charisma
She's damn funny
And boy does she know how to work a room
The great thing about a show like Hello, Dolly
Is that it’s written for an older woman
It doesn’t require huge belting because
Dolly uses her charm and humor and wits to navigate the world
And you fall in love with her over and over again
The production is sumptuous and gorgeously realized
The costumes border on garish they are so bright
The color palette is like something out of a technicolor candy store
Are we in heaven or in danger of overdoing on sugar?
Jerry Herman’s score is sublime. You can’t help but feel happy
The vocal arrangements gave me goosebumps
Those harmonies just lift your soul and make you want to dance
The gorgeous choreography
Expertly executed by a delightful ensemble
It’s all a visual and auditory feast
That manages to be a wholly separate experience from the movie
It is uplifting and marvelous musical theatre
At its best
It’s not perfect
While there were people of color in the ensemble
I would love to have seen more diverse casting in the supporting roles
The performers were truly terrific, but the overwhelming whiteness is frustrating
I dreamt about the show all night
And woke up still on a high
After a tough few weeks battling a particularly nasty bout of depression
This infusion of light has been desperately needed
So thank you Miss Midler
And your luminous team
For doing what you do
And doing it so well.
- Published on
It was with great sadness today
That I learnt of Amy Krouse Rosenthal's passing
She is (was?) a writer and artist I have long admired
Her "7 notes on life"
Became guiding lights for me
The way she played with words
Made whimsy out of the everyday
The Beckoning of Lovely
My first encounter with The Bean
Money growing on trees
She attempted a collaborative project
A kind of pre-cursor to HitRecord
The movie wasn't great
And she owned it
She said, "this isn't my best work. I'm going back to the drawing board"
And back she went
And wrote wonderful books
And today I read
She has died of
Stupid fucking cancer
In the weeks before her death,
In true Amy KR style,
She penned a letter in the New York Times
Explaining why women might want to marry her husband
Her astonishing ability to capture the magic of words and life
Even as she was dying.
That I learnt of Amy Krouse Rosenthal's passing
She is (was?) a writer and artist I have long admired
Her "7 notes on life"
Became guiding lights for me
The way she played with words
Made whimsy out of the everyday
The Beckoning of Lovely
My first encounter with The Bean
Money growing on trees
She attempted a collaborative project
A kind of pre-cursor to HitRecord
The movie wasn't great
And she owned it
She said, "this isn't my best work. I'm going back to the drawing board"
And back she went
And wrote wonderful books
And today I read
She has died of
Stupid fucking cancer
In the weeks before her death,
In true Amy KR style,
She penned a letter in the New York Times
Explaining why women might want to marry her husband
Her astonishing ability to capture the magic of words and life
Even as she was dying.
In her TEDx Talk, Amy told us:
Always trust magic
Beckon the lovely
(We are all) Connected
Do (Just DO it!)
(Allow for) Empty Spaces
Figure it out as you go
Go to it
Beckon the lovely
(We are all) Connected
Do (Just DO it!)
(Allow for) Empty Spaces
Figure it out as you go
Go to it
And so, we shall.
- Published on
In honor of International Women's Day, here are ten female characters from the world of musical theatre that I love!
1. Babe Williams from The Pajama Game
Doris Day playing Babe Williams in the 1957 movie version of The Pajama Game was one of my first feminist idols. A woman who worked, was in charge of the grievance committee, and wasn’t afraid to stand up to men — even if it cost her her job.
Doris Day playing Babe Williams in the 1957 movie version of The Pajama Game was one of my first feminist idols. A woman who worked, was in charge of the grievance committee, and wasn’t afraid to stand up to men — even if it cost her her job.
2. Charity from Sweet Charity
When I first watched the movie, I was so confused by the ending. She doesn’t end up happily married? Huh?! My grown-up self LOVES the ending. It’s so REFRESHING for a female character to not end up married or with a man at all! Women can be happy and whole people even when not in a romantic relationship!
When I first watched the movie, I was so confused by the ending. She doesn’t end up happily married? Huh?! My grown-up self LOVES the ending. It’s so REFRESHING for a female character to not end up married or with a man at all! Women can be happy and whole people even when not in a romantic relationship!
3. Elphaba from Wicked
Duh! Smart, talented, a little bit different. Animal rights activist. Also possesses magic powers.
Duh! Smart, talented, a little bit different. Animal rights activist. Also possesses magic powers.
4. Celie from The Color Purple
A woman who overcomes the most horrendous circumstances of abuse, poverty, and ignorance. She learns to love herself, and in the process discovers community and empowerment through creative work.
A woman who overcomes the most horrendous circumstances of abuse, poverty, and ignorance. She learns to love herself, and in the process discovers community and empowerment through creative work.
5. Alice Murphy from Bright Star
A vivacious and intelligent woman who is the editor of a journal, celebrates her sexuality, and doesn’t compromise who she is, or who she loves, for the sake of appearances.
A vivacious and intelligent woman who is the editor of a journal, celebrates her sexuality, and doesn’t compromise who she is, or who she loves, for the sake of appearances.
6. Matilda from Matilda
A girl who loves reading and has super powers, Matilda is basically my dream human.
A girl who loves reading and has super powers, Matilda is basically my dream human.
7. Jerusha from Daddy Long Legs
A bright young woman who dreams of becoming “a scientist, a motorist, a suffragette… the class valedictorian, or what else heaven knows…” and discovers that the secret of happiness is learning to be still. Also loves letter writing.
A bright young woman who dreams of becoming “a scientist, a motorist, a suffragette… the class valedictorian, or what else heaven knows…” and discovers that the secret of happiness is learning to be still. Also loves letter writing.
8. Alison from Fun Home
Talented cartoonist who shares her story of realizing she is a lesbian whilst dealing with the trauma of her closeted father’s death. Played by the wonderful Beth Malone who is one of the few Broadway stars I lost the ability to speak in front of. Real-life Alison Bechdel came up with the now infamous “Bechdel Test.” The show was also written by the wonderful Jeanine Tesori.
Talented cartoonist who shares her story of realizing she is a lesbian whilst dealing with the trauma of her closeted father’s death. Played by the wonderful Beth Malone who is one of the few Broadway stars I lost the ability to speak in front of. Real-life Alison Bechdel came up with the now infamous “Bechdel Test.” The show was also written by the wonderful Jeanine Tesori.
9. Frumah Sarah from Fiddler on the Roof
She’s loud. She’s larger than life (I mean she’s dead, but even so). She's a woman unashamedly taking up space and changing the outcome of the narrative because of her presence. And she has one of the greatest vocal lines in musical theatre history... TEVYEEEEEEEEH!
She’s loud. She’s larger than life (I mean she’s dead, but even so). She's a woman unashamedly taking up space and changing the outcome of the narrative because of her presence. And she has one of the greatest vocal lines in musical theatre history... TEVYEEEEEEEEH!
10. Julie Andrews: Maria/Mary/Millie
Ok, Dame Julie Andrews isn’t a character in a musical, but I grew up watching Mary Poppins and The Sound of Music on repeat, and three of her characters were a huge influence on my younger self.
Mary Poppins (from Mary Poppins), Maria (from The Sound of Music), and Millie (from Thoroughly Modern Millie) were all outspoken, forthright women, who sang and danced to make life more bearable and magical. The indomitable spirits of these characters changed the lives of the people they encountered for the better, and enchanted millions of viewers around the world.
Julie is a writer, producer, and director, and comes across the most genuine and wonderful human being on the planet. You don’t even know how excited I am for Julie’s Greenroom.
Happy International Women’s Day!
Ok, Dame Julie Andrews isn’t a character in a musical, but I grew up watching Mary Poppins and The Sound of Music on repeat, and three of her characters were a huge influence on my younger self.
Mary Poppins (from Mary Poppins), Maria (from The Sound of Music), and Millie (from Thoroughly Modern Millie) were all outspoken, forthright women, who sang and danced to make life more bearable and magical. The indomitable spirits of these characters changed the lives of the people they encountered for the better, and enchanted millions of viewers around the world.
Julie is a writer, producer, and director, and comes across the most genuine and wonderful human being on the planet. You don’t even know how excited I am for Julie’s Greenroom.
Happy International Women’s Day!