I’ve just finished the dress rehearsal for Whistle Down the Wind, the rather wonderful musical I’m MDing in my local church. Tis but a local amateur production, so theoretically small stuff compared to some of the shows I’ve been involved in – but I can honestly say I feel humbled and privileged to be a part of it. It takes a certain type of community spirit to assemble a cast of twenty-five children and twenty-five adults in completely accurate 1950s costumes, not to mention to build a whacking great barn in a church. And burn it down.
And everyone – children especially, in fact – is doing justice to the difficult and uncompromising score, even though they’re spaced around the building in a way that isn’t in the least bit practical when it comes to hearing the orchestra, or indeed watching me struggle to conduct in more ridiculous time signatures than I’ve ever seen next to each other before.
Actually, having seen Harry Potter the other day, I would be so bold as to say that some of our kids are better than theirs.
On the other hand, Harry Potter was worth it for the moment when David Tennant was revealed as the villain and a little girl in the row behind me whispered in disbelief “That’s Doctor Who!”