CAN CELLOS BE GUITARS!?! @ Room 60.

I had the pleasure of playing at Room 60 last week. Tick that off the bucket list.

At the Roost Launch last October a violinist jumped on staged and improvised some wretched jazz for about 10 minutes. I was absolutely awed at how bizarre it was, and vowed that when I returned from overseas I would perform on the stage in some capacity. I found a new love for the cello and, with a lot of inspiration and modelling from Jorane, devised a 25 minute set which would involve me simultaneously playing cello and singing.

My favourite shot that Chris did.

There was a bit of preparation to be put into the event. I went about recording several demos - mostly they were covers by artists like Leonard Cohen, Lady Gaga and Sarah Slean, but I also wrote a few original works. Once I felt reasonably happy with the results, I contacted Room 60 and got in touch with Leila Cosgrove. Leila organises all the music and was intrigued by the idea, and was very enthusiastic. I was asked to send through a bio and a promo shot, so I got my friend Christopher King to shoot some shots in an abandoned house and in a large green field. The bio was more difficult, because I have no credentials when it comes to music. I ended up blubbering something about how I was a 'sound designer' and wanted to experiment with jazz. That's another thing - people ask me what genre I play and I have no idea what to say to them. Once sent through, Leila confirmed I would be playing at 7pm on April 11th. Phew!

So once I had a date locked in, over a few months I learnt the basics of the cello again and learnt some of my favourite songs which I thought the cello could pull off on its own. It's interesting that people are so amazed by the concept of singing while playing, since cello isn't that different to guitar. It certainly has a deeper, richer timbre, and it's unusual to play with the bow - but it's also possible to strum the strings as if it were a guitar, which is a staple in most of my arrangements. It's restrictive, since I feel there's only so much you can do with it. It's not possible to play beautiful melodies while you're on your own, and much of the accompaniment sounds too sporadic and empty if there isn't always a lot of noise coming out of it. But it's relatively unheard of in Brisbane, and people seemed to like the idea enough.

I ended up playing six songs that were all covers - four pieces by Jorane (Musique Pour Gabrielle, Stay, Red Mountains and The Cave) plus one by Lady Gaga (Paparazzi) and Lior (This Old Love). I had written a few songs myself, but I felt that it would be more fun to play covers that people knew, and also it would be useful to gauge how feasible it would be to do something along the lines of it again. Predictably, Paparazzi and This Old Love were the favourites, The Cave and Pour Gabrielle were a bit too bizarre for people, but Stay and Red Mountains were lovely. I think the key is to play simple pieces (in English), and not to take it too seriously. Paparazzi got a lot of laughs, and during Stay the barmaid kept on opening the door to the fridge, so there was some cute comedic timing while I waited for it to shut.

The only shot of the night - courtesy of Ellen.

The response was staggering for me. So many people said things like 'I loved it and can't wait for the next one' or 'I'll be there for the next one', which makes me wonder what the future of me playing is. I have a lot of French pieces I want to sing, but I think the language barrier would restrict people's enjoyment. There are also a lot of gorgeous songs I want to play which require looping and layers, which I don't know how to do live. And many more would need more people other than me, and I hate depending on other people. That, and I'm doing this for fun - NOT for my career. So what's the point . . . hmm . . . ?

The best part of the evening for me was the wonderful turn-out of the audience. People who I had met with over the years, people I am and had worked with, family, friends and future friends were all there - that really meant a lot to me. It was very humbling that people had taken the time out of their evenings to come down for such a short event, and it made me feel so warm and fuzzy :] . I think the premise, length and venue were perfect, and the atmosphere and people there couldn't have been much better. It reminded me how much I loved singing and performing - maybe I'll try it again some time.

Attending the tale of Sweeney Todd

I enjoy the irony that after dedicating almost 400 hours to Sweeney Todd, I was originally going to skip my audition. Tonight is our closing night and the last of 16 performances which have been seen by (what I guess) a few thousand people. I thought I probably should record some thoughts since this is my first musical in a community and I don't think I've ever been so emotionally invested and attached to the content and the people involved.

Me and John!

In terms of musical genius in the realms of Broadway, Sondheim's Sweeney Todd is simply unrivaled. Its lavish score is replete with superb arias littered with complex rhythmic passages and exquisite lyrical content that explores the gamut of human emotions while simultaneously captivating its audience through progression of the storyline. Amongst the luscious and generous orchestration, Sondheim utilises a cinematic approach with motifs and themes that correspond to and enhance the plot and the characters, ensuring that each song adds extra facets and dimensions to the plot and that none of the pieces are superfluous.

The sheer grandeur of the score can be identified in practically every song in the show - a few highlights include the mesmerising and hypnotic beauty of 'Johanna', the vivacious and delightful rendezvous of 'A Little Priest', and the melancholic disenfranchisement of 'Green Finch and Linnet Bird'. My two favourite pieces are the quartet arrangement of 'Kiss Me!', a fleeting and inherently romantic piece which holds Sondheim's best of harmony and counterpoint galore with beautifully sweeping instrumentation, and 'City on Fire!'. 'City on Fire' literally takes off and explodes, boasting cascading phrases of violent imagery with obscene hyperboles and metaphors to conjure an intense, visceral nightmare. After all this time I've not grown tired of the score, it's still something that enjoy and am fascinated with.

Members of Ignatians Musical Society have been rehearsing for Sweeney Todd since the 1st of December last year. Since Sweeney Todd is my favourite musical I promised myself if it was ever staged I would try my best to be involved, so I booked an audition a few weeks before at the suggestion of a friend. On the day I actually considered not going (I was reluctant since I was worried about the commitment), but at the last minute I caught the train and turned up to the audition, where I still hadn't picked my two audition songs. On the way into the room I finally decided on 'This is Not Over Yet' (from Parade) and 'Quidam' (from Quidam). We also had to learn a movement number at the audition and it was pretty scary since I'm not very coordinated and the prospect that we had to move like ballet dancers was daunting and made me want to drop out. In the end I got a callback to audition for the role of Tobias, and at the callback I was eventually (I think just because I happened to be there) offered a role in the ensemble which I accepted straight away since the main reason I auditioned was so I could sing 'City on Fire!'.

Sam and Sam!

'City on Fire!' is my favourite song to perform (I also get to sing my favourite line "The engine roared, the motor hissed"), but I'm also extremely lucky to be one of the only 5 people in the show who get to be killed on Sweeney's chair. I manage to die spectacularly each night thanks to a bunch of maple syrup dyed red and some fancy tricks which usually gets a reaction from the audience (thanks to the Makeup Wizards!). I really respect our director John Peek, because it feels he managed to get everyone some moments in the show where they shine.

The cast and crew involve some of the best quality people I've ever met in my life. They're a really fun, talented bunch and I feel cheated that I didn't know some of them sooner. What I'm really thankful for is that there are so many supremely talented people who don't need to be featured in a leading role and are happy to be featured in an ensemble. That said, we have a bunch of phenomenal leads that I'm really thrilled with the performance of. The cast execute their performance in a manner that is on par with professional productions and it was a fantastic opportunity to play which enjoying the practical experience of performing. Lots of good times happened in the theatre and out. One of my favourite memories in the whole process was when Sam was driving a few of us to the station and when we stopped at some lights we noticed Miranda was in the car next to us, so Sam signaled to Miranda to wind down the window, and we started shouting the lyrics from 'City on Fire!' at her. It was just awesome. I could probably go on for a while, but for the sake of maintaining reader interest (dubious already) so I'll just leave it there.

That seems a little over the place but the show is nearing the end now and I will be very sad to see it go - it's been a huge part of my life so far this year (and a great excuse to avoid seeing people) and I am going to miss some people so much it will probably ache. I'm going to stand offstage and watch from the wings for as much as I can tonight to see the show one last time. But I will cherish the memories, and the score of Sweeney Todd has become even more special.

Earth Hour in Sweeneyland!

Helping to Suspend Dinner.

Last week I had the chance to help in the process of creating a unique theatrical experience that was curated by Sarah Winter. Dinner With Gravity ran for just under two hours on Saturday evening for 12 guests at The Studio, at QUT. Just thought I'd reflect on how cool it was and how much fun it was to be a part of the process, and if the work does resurface somewhere, I'd really encourage you to go.

Ironically, tying knots was really important and I can't do them properly - watch me tie my shoes oneday and you'll probably step back and say "Oh my . . .  what did you just do?". I don't know how I'd gotten through life so far without needing to tie knots, but the truth came out and I was exposed for the sham I am. The week consisted of rigging up lights, fire retarding (tee hee) materials, carrying heavy booms and equipment, and a lot of moving stuff. The best thing about the whole process is that in the bump-out I used a lot of the skills I'd picked up from my Cert III, so it was pretty gratifying to see that I could still use and apply those skills. I felt the most out of place since I was the youngest and at times I didn't really know what the fuck I was doing, but it was a great learning process. We all worked really hard - I knew that Kat was exhausted and beyond the point of return when she asked me to tie a balloon to a pole then fell over in a heap while laughing when she realised I couldn't tie knots.

I adored the end result. We had a few seconds to take it in after the mad end rush before the session began. The room had the charm of something out of a fairytale. The focal point was the center of the room was over a hundred white and black balloons floating above the the seating area, three tables of different size and make were in the center of the room on top of some (hideous) plush rugs, and the surrounding floor was covered by large crunchy leaves. The tables (in addition to the air around) were covered with gourmet food including floating strawberries and cream, rice-paper rolls, mini quiches and other canapés with creme fraiche and these badass cupcakes from The Cupcake Parlor (I think it's around West End). Suspended above the table was a hand tied twine net and hanging from it was a white sheet canopy that had more leaves threaded throughout which gave it this empyreal wood-nymphesque vibe.

There was wine, coffee, and different varieties of teabags hanging off balloons - that's probably one of the most ingenious parts of the show. You pour yourself a cup of boiling water, then as you place the cup below the teabag, the moisture in the teabag pulls the balloon down (. . . that's what she said . . .). There are so many little things like that in the show, and I wish everyone will get to see it someday. I felt a little aloof at the end of the night due to a few things, but the main factor was the sad realisation that, like last time, it had to end. Especially considering the amount of effort that was put into the week long preparation, it's sad that something so beautiful can only be enjoyed so briefly! At the start of the week I'd said that I was so glad that the process was continuing, and I think it's got such grand potential. Inside the room it honestly made me think like there was no other world outside and I don't think I've ever enjoyed helping out so much.

We blitzed through the bump-out, sort of. The ratio of 4 hours to bump-out in comparison to around 5 days of set up seemed blitzy to me. I felt a little disappointed that I'd been involved with the process from the beginning and I was going to miss the end of it because it takes around 2 hours to get home and that meant I'd have to leave at the end. Sarah came to the rescue and rectified that, and I got to stay around to help finish. One of my fondest memories from uni so far was the crew sitting around in a circle exhausted, but chatting about random bullshit and eating the left-over gourmet cupcakes.