Wrap-up of the Bilson Street musical

(Written on Friday 29 October.)

My sister, Marg, and I were invited to a series of events at Wonthaggi Primary School this morning as a wind-up of the musical project.

I was at the school earlier this week to arrange return of sound equipment, etc. Post Production Blues had set in amongst the kids BIG time. The grade 6 teachers said it was hopeless -- the kids moped around, couldn't get into any work, etc. All familiar stuff, so I advised them to just deal with it and they'd eventually settle back into their regular routine.

First thing today was a whole-school assembly in the gymnasium. The Bilson Street Singers and Orchestra, a legacy of the show, performed a medley of songs from the show, plus one they'd written about us to the tune of the show's theme song. Very funny! :)

Then we were presented with a series of short speeches by kids from different groups associated with the production -- the writers, the principal actors, the back stage crew, the orchestra, etc -- recounting the changes and experiences they'd undergone as a result of their involvement. For me, this is what it's all about. I love seeing young lives changed for the better in this way.

Most interesting to me, personally, was the response of the writers. Only one of the 12 writers actually had a principal role, and that was by default when one of the cast was expelled from the production for misbehaviour and Ryan, as understudy, had to fill the vacancy late in the day.

Emma R. spoke for them all. She played flute in the orchestra. She told how they'd all felt a bit left out of things after the intensity of the 3-day residential writers' workshop, and had a hard time adjusting to being out of the limelight during the long months of rehearsals and preparation.

But finally seeing their creation in living, breathing, colourful, musical reality -- and being honoured in the curtain calls and celebrations, etc -- had had a profound impact on them. They still hang out as a group, bound by their common experience, and share ideas, etc.

Marg and I were also presented with engraved gifts (mine was a barometer and thermometer with a neat little plaque, Marg's an antique clock with computerised chimes, which she really likes) and thank-you letters from the school. We presented the school with a large binder filled with photos, documents, copies of the script, schedules, notices, etc, plus a series of CD-ROMs containing the complete system we've created so they can use it in mounting future productions.

Then we were invited to the kids' post production party from 10am to 11 am. The 12 writers had been given the responsibility of planning and organising the event, and they did a fabulous job -- really creative. They were the hosts for the 12 grades involved, too. Everyone received lollies, ice creams, cakes, etc and we all had a ton of fun.

Then there was a special morning tea from the School Council, which runs the school, for all the adults (staff, parents and others) involved in the show. The food was incredible -- we only managed to get through about a quarter of it, and I felt like I was eating constantly, the whole time!

We hadn't realised just how big an impact the project has had on the wider community. There's been so much excitement over what the school achieved. I guess Marg and I have become a bit blase about the production of a show of this kind. We take it in our stride... we have such a clear vision of what's needed and we just organise and delegate and things happen. But this kind of organisational and leadership experience is virtually unknown in this community, at least at this level, so we missed the undercurrents taking place.

I found myself in the midst of a group of about a dozen mums telling how their own lives and self-esteem had improved as a result of their personal involvement, and the impact on their kids' lives. It was such a wonderful way to conclude this episode.

It really hit Marg hard -- to the point where she actually said, publicly, that she'd be willing to be involved again the year after next (she'd been adamant that this was her last production).

I think the fact that it was our old school, our home town, and the really close relationships we've formed with all the kids (we were constantly surrounded by all age groups thanking us, all morning!) and so many notes and cards made by individual children, made the difference. Prior to this, Marg had been the Vice Principal of a school in Melbourne, and a school production had been part of her duties. She enjoyed it, but it was still only one element in her overall role. This time, it was the entire context and focus, so she got to see it in proper perspective.

I've uploaded a copy of the letter I received from the school for you to read on my site if you're interested. Reading it was the first time I realised how the others involved must have felt during the last couple of days before opening.

I'm so used to pulling the technical side of a show together overnight, with all the resources I need and people I'm used to working with (eg: the lighting guy, Peter D., a permanently incapacitated Vietnam vet the same age as me -- Agent Orange syndrome -- is an old hand from working together on several productions in the 70s and 80s, and he jumped at the chance to work together again) and the same with Wayne F., the young sound engineer -- he was really keen to work with me.

We had NO technical rehearsal. Peter and I plotted the lighting on the fly and created the cue sheet on the run 30 minutes before opening (for Act 1) and at interval (for Act 2). Piece of cake for old hands like us *lol*. Especially with radio intercoms to keep us in touch while winging it.

But the principal and others were quite traumatised by the seeming lack of technical preparation. The opening performance was an utter revelation for them. And for the kids... the biggest problem we had was getting the kids to stop watching the lighting and multi-media effects while on stage, because we'd been unable to get into the theatre until two days before opening night due to a heavy schedule of earlier events. The opening night was the first time anyone had seen the complete vision in full realisation. Hence the euphoria -- at least half of it was sheer relief, I suspect! *lol*

It really must have seemed like a miracle to them, I can see now. But it was basically under control and in experienced hands. It makes a humongous difference, obviously. :)

Okay... enough of the show. It's over now. Fun while it lasted, but work has stacked up a mile high. Esther can't come down for this weekend or the next because of a show she's starring in, so I'll have some time for a concentrated burst.

http://www.childrenstheatrevictoria.com/schools/disappearance/
(Photos from the show will be on-line shortly!)