Friday, February 11

Julian Matthias and I: No, No, Nanette

(image source)

This was the third show for which I played in the pit orchestra, and as with other shows I was invited to join by my high school band director. I had to idea what this show was about but I didn't really care; it was the summertime, I had no job, and I would get paid to play music. It was a lot of work, but it was a lot of fun! I would do it again even if I didn't get paid, I had such a good experience.


What I liked about this show in particular:

1. Playing like a hammy, hammy ham. This show is what I call a jazz-hands Broadway musical. Big, show-stopping dance numbers, lots of colors and costumes and wigs-- for the last number all the cast members were on stage singing and playing ukuleles. The musical numbers are all dramatic and stylized, not much subtlety in playing the music. As a violinist I get to use lots of bow and vibrato that it's almost obscene, but it's a jazz-hands musical, so it's acceptable in this scenario.

2. Time between the numbers. The two shows I played previous to this one were through-sung, so music played throughout the entire show and every bit of dialogue had to be timed with a musical cue. String players usually end up playing the entire show and it can get really tiring. This show, thankfully, was not through-sung, and there were stretches of 6, 7 minutes where we didn't have a note to play. Some musicians used this time to read a book, fill out crossword puzzles or chat quietly amongst themselves, sometimes mouthing the words along with the actors. For the first few shows I'd leave Julian Matthias in my seat and creep to the outer edge of the pit to crane my neck and see what was happening on stage. As the run of the show went on I would read or rest my head on J.M.'s and close my eyes until it was time to play the next number.

3. The other musicians. This rings true for all the others shows I've played, actually, but it must be said: pit orchestra musicians are among the most hilarious, intelligent people I've ever met, an all-around great group of people to know and work with. Most of the other musicians in this production majored in music and are professional musicians and music educators. They were all great storytellers, with lots of great stories to tell: about students, other gigs, and life in general. One day between the matinee and evening show we all went out to eat and the whole time we were at that restaurant I just sat there drinking up everything they said. Mind you, I did eat, and didn't feel like I had much to add to a conversation because I was the youngest musician, the naive teenager. Another instance: a fire alarm went off during one show, toward the end of the first act, and while we stood outside the theater and swatting away mosquitos a few of the woodwind players started telling jokes, diffusing the tension.

There were only two things that I disliked about the show, although I feel that "dislike" is too strong a word for how I feel. I was seriously peeved about that one show with the fire alarm; that summer I was irresistable to mosquitos and in that fifteen, twenty-minute span of standing outside that summer evening I got five bites on my legs. But that's not really the show's fault. The only other thing that bothered me was the show itself. The plot is just a vehicle for fun numbers and, yes, audiences left the theater feeling buzzy and fulfilled but there was not much substance in that feeling. After maybe the third show I was already sick of it, but quickly got around to tolerating it, and then maintained an apathetic and indifferent attitude to it all. Of the few gigs I've done, this show felt the most like a responsibility and a job job, rather than something fun that I happened to get paid to do. But the pros far outweigh the cons, and, like they say, there's no business like (jazz hands) SHOW BUSINESS.

No comments:

Post a Comment