On stage- feeling animated, enchanted and just right

WHEN I go and watch a musical, I always wonder how props are moved around with such ease, how a staircase can just appear from nowhere and how dancers tango in perfect symmetry. Sometimes I wonder, too, why the legendary Phantom of the Opera insists on his Box Five, how the Man of La Mancha is performed on a single set that suggests a dungeon or when the eyes of the camels in Joseph's Technicolour Dream Coat will move when you least expect them to.

I know now because I am on the other side of the performance hall: not sitting down and watching a musical but on the stage and being part of the cast, albeit a smallish role.

When the Nenagh Choral Society put up a notice last year in a local tabloid called The Guardian inviting interested amateurs to join the musical production of Beauty and the Beast, I knew I must give it a try.

I had watched the Disney movie countless times when my three children were young. We used to dance and sing in front of the television imitating the antics of Mrs Potts the teapot, Lumiere the Candlestick or Cogsworth the clock. So to actually be part of the cast, I asked myself, "Why not?"

The last time I performed before an audience was when a group of us staged a play at the Experimental Theatre in Kuala Lumpur. It was hard work but great fun. So I rallied my daughter to join me in this new adventure, although it meant driving miles on cold windy nights for practice, practice and more practice. We had each other for company and we knew we would enjoy being animated objects in the enchanted castle.

As with every endeavour, I braced myself for new experiences.

Under the wings of dedicated director Greg Browne and committed music director Laura Kearney, we learnt to sing and dance in harmony. I was practically singing or humming the songs during my waking hours and possibly in my dreams as well. The best part was the more we sang, the more confident we became.

Staging a good production comes with a cost. Costumes had to be made or rented. For instance, in the opening act, we are at a French market place complete with baguettes and bonjour. And for the enchanted castle act, we are transformed into knives, plates, napkins, wardrobe, teapots and such.

The fund-raising projects were varied and I took part in the packing of groceries for customers at the check-out counter of a local supermarket. This was something novel to me as supermarkets in Malaysia have a ready pool of salaried staff to do that for the customers.

The customers would hand me their shopping bags (plastic bags are bad for the environment) and I would put in their groceries. As with most innate organisational skills, I separated food items from non-food items. Then I separated the food items accordingly (wet and dry produce) and packed them. One of the customers said, 'I would have done exactly the same. Thanks a million' and dropped a generous contribution into the collection bucket.

The next challenge was, of course, making friends, which is never easy, especially when you are new to any group. I appreciate Francis Burke, who opened the door with a smile to the school hall for every one of our practices, and Majella Keogh, who coached us in our dance steps. Then there are Bernie and Margaret McGee, who make me feel at home with the crowd, Billy McNamara, my charming animated 'salt and pepper' partner, Alan O'Brien, the versatile and talented actor and singer, Jimmy McCarthy, who gracefully waltzes with me, and many others, too.

Needless to say, the greatest challenge was that of commitment and punctuality. Private agendas had to make way for the musical. This was especially crucial during the weeks leading up to the opening show. Being part of a team meant that if you were absent or late, the whole team would be affected.

Today is our second performance and we have six more to go before March runs out. It seems as if the stars are in alignment and everything is just right. I do not feel the passing of time, but only of the moment which leaves a good feeling within.

Absolutely no regrets.

Source: http://www.nst.com.my/opinion/columnist/on-stage-feeling-animated-enchanted-and-just-right-1.65703

A Circle of Friends

I HAVE just befriended Sarita Bergess and I am amazed. A beautiful lady with a gentle spirit, she makes doll houses as a hobby. I stand corrected; not just doll houses but lots of other crafty stuff as well like stained glass, wickerwork, pottery and wooden figures.

As I have never had a doll house before there was a certain thrill seeing the miniature chandeliers light up to show the beds complete with duvets, the intricate miniscule furniture, that tiny sewing machine and the floral wallpaper so carefully coordinated as if to ensure that the little individuals that live within have a place where they can be happy.

Sarita and I are both members of the International Women's Organisation (IWO) in Limerick. This unique club for women of all ages and nationalities was founded in 1980. We meet regularly for fun stuff like trips to movies and concerts. We meet to chat about the serious and the trivial. We meet to sip the aromatic freshly ground coffee and to savour the guilt-laden rich chocolate cake.

There are all sorts of clubs that you can go for, but to actually find one that you are comfortable with is something else. Then there is this fear that you may annoy someone because of the subtle differences of language and meaning. What we mean well in our culture may be totally misconstrued in another. When we joke, comment or spar with the locals we may be mistaken for attacking the host culture and the worst scenario is when the person becomes very defensive of what he is familiar with.

So in a way, the IWO is unique because against an international backdrop, there is much intercultural give and take. It is some sort of a neutral ground where we feel safe to speak, to laugh or to cry.

The gathering instinct appears to be primal. Prehistoric women gathered seeds and grain for the table. So it is not surprising to see a need for women to gather together for friendship and support.

When we were in school, we wanted at least a "best friend" -- someone who shared our dreams and our interests. We would go everywhere together and even dress in similar fashion. Remember the "Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants" where four best girlfriends hatch a plan to stay connected with one another as their lives start off in different directions by circulating a pair of second hand jeans that fits each of their bodies perfectly? Something like that.

But as we grew, the chances of not remaining best friends became very real and we separated because of distance, education, level of maturity or a conflict of interests.

Then like a spider trying to repair a torn web, we would search for another friend to fill the aching void. Well and good if the new best friend emerges. If she is not to be found, we continue searching.

Whether by choice or by design we have made Ireland our second home.

Most of us have left our friends and families behind and it takes a lot of resolve to start all over. We try new approaches and put ourselves in all the right places. However, conversations seem to stop at "'how ya?" and "the weather's grand today".

Although we believe ourselves to be interesting, loyal, kind, and friendly, we still have a difficult time breaking into the cliques that have existed since time immemorial. To prove this point, someone in a local sewing group which I attend said that it is "a wonder" how I returned to the group every week to sew. No other "visitor" had survived.

It is not uncommon to end up feeling like a fly on the wall when others engage in their own "craic" and think that Malaysia is in Africa. A staff called Seamus in the butcher and fish section of the local Supervalu supermarket made small talk with me the other day over the counter. He was genuinely interested in where I was from and I thought that was nice. Most times I would have to wait for other staff to finish their conversations with their customers at the post office or bank or any grocery store. And it could be a good number of minutes regardless of how long the queue is.

So back to the doll house.

In many ways, we want to be in a place where there is order. We want to be in a place where we are happy. Most of all we want to be in a place where we have friends.

Source: A Circle of Friends - Columnist - New Straits Times
http://www.nst.com.my/opinion/columnist/a-circle-of-friends-1.58752#ixzz1on8e3Vfg