Saturday, 29 June 2013

A quantum leap

The 2012 Cabaret Summer School leads to further opportunities to perform.

We are invited to take part in a program called "Out of the Square" - a series of shows presented in suburban theatres around Adelaide and outer regions.  I take part in two of these events; at Elizabeth, north of the city, and at Golden Grove, in the north-east.

It feels very strange to leave my office in the late morning and drive to a theatre where I will sing.  On one of these occasions I am accompanied by Alison, one of the Summer School participants, whom I knew many years ago at University.  We have reconnected recently through the cabaret community, and it also turns out that we are neighbours.  Alison is a senior Government employee, and has had to take a half-day of leave in order to perform in the show.   As we drive we remark on how odd it feels to go straight from desk to theatre.

Out of the Square proves to be an excellent opportunity to perform in different theatres, to different types of audiences.  Being a matinee series, it attracts an older age-group - retirees and people from nursing homes.  We need to adapt our performances accordingly.  Some of the humour does not hit the mark in the way it did at the Showcase, and the audience does not respond to some of the more modern songs.

My segment commences with The Girl From Ipanema; I'm relieved that people in the audience seem to recognize the song, and they respond quite well to my piece.  Alison also connects well with the group, and has them laughing out loud.  On the way home we agree that it's been an excellent way to consolidate our segments (which were flung together in the space of a week) and to gain confidence in performing.

Soon after this, Jenny (another Summer School participant) offers an "Improv" class.  Jenny is a professional comedienne from Queensland, and is back for a short visit.  I've experienced improvisation once before, and did not enjoy it very much.  It requires you to say the first thing that comes into your head.  I find this difficult.  As a lawyer, what comes out of your mouth matters - a lot - so I'm in the habit of self-editing.  But I decide to attend the class.  I feel that improv is a bit like taking your medicine - it might not taste good, but it's very good for you.

To my surprise, I quite enjoy the improv exercises - perhaps it's a case of knowing what to expect.  And  I find that it helps me to be more spontaneous and less self-conscious on stage.

It feels like a big leap forward.

I also feel changed as a result of spending time with "artistic types".  I now have friends who act, do stand-up comedy, compose music, dance burlesque and present their own solo cabaret shows.

It's true - the company you keep does matter.  When you spend time with people who are doing it, you begin to believe that you can do it too.






Friday, 28 June 2013

The pot simmers

More protests - people in the streets chant "There will be no World Cup!"

Is this possible?  Can such a juggernaut be derailed?

Over the years I've seen reports speculating that an Olympic Games is in danger because the country in which it will be held is tardy with developing its stadiums.  But the building work is always completed and the Games always proceed.

Could public protests really stop the World Cup?

Then Brazilian President Dilma Rousseff addresses the nation (26 June 2013, report from The Advertiser newspaper).  She wants to earmark $27 billion for public transport following days of mass nationwide street protests, in a bid to seize the political initiative.

She also proposes a referendum on broad "political reform" in response to the public unrest over substandard public services and rampant corruption in the world's seventh largest economy.

The President warns against any repeat of the violence and vandalism that marred recent protests, which brought 1.2 million people into the streets.

And now it goes quiet.  There is nothing more on the television news; nothing in this weekend's newspapers.

Is that it?  Will everything now be back on track?

Is the problem solved, or just simmering?


Friday, 21 June 2013

Soccer fever - with a dark difference

It's because of the soccer, apparently.  I don't mean to be flippant - it's extremely serious.

People in Brazil are angry about the huge amount of money being poured into soccer stadiums and other infrastructure for the World Cup and the Olympic Games - money they say would be better spent on schools, teachers' salaries, health care and other essential services.

The protests started because of an increase in the price of public transport fares.  But even when it was announced that the fares would be reduced, the people were not so easily appeased.  The demonstrations had taken hold, and intensified in a broader social protest.

They are fed up with government corruption.  The International Herald Tribune reports (20 June 2013) that following a high-profile trial, none of the officials who were found guilty have yet begun serving their prison sentences.

The report goes on to say that Brazil's long economic boom may be coming to an end.  The economy has slowed, inflation is high, and the value of its currency is declining against the dollar.  Yet Brazilians have high expectations, and these have not been met.

Natasha Lennard at www.salon.com writes "Brazil’s military dictatorship only ended in 1985. It’s worth considering that the masses, pouring into Brazil’s streets and squares now, know creeping authoritarianism when they see it. "

One can imagine that the ambitious program of investment is likely to bring massive returns and build wealth for Brazil.  But will it be soon enough?  And what will happen in the meantime?

















Wednesday, 19 June 2013

What is going on in Brazil?

June 2013.

Apparently, it's a mystery.  No one seems to know what's going on.

Suddenly, there are uprisings in several cities in Brazil - including in Rio de Janeiro, where I am planning to have my concert.

Idyllic, festive, peaceful Rio.

On television I'm seeing scenes of riots, arson, violence in the streets.  Apparently a million people are out protesting in one day.

But no one seems to know what's led to it.

My husband says, ominously, "Bad time to be visiting Rio".  I'm really worried that he will go off the idea of the concert.  OK, right now would be a bad time, but I'm not visiting just yet - and anyway, they had riots in London, too, and everything calmed down and went back to normal.

Television stations propose theories for the unrest, and these include ideas proposed by viewers.  Truly, no one seems knows what's going on.  These theories include: Government inefficiency and corruption, rising public transport costs and even a foreign plot to destabilize Latin America.

Apparently people in Brazil are unhappy about paying higher costs that have been levied to pay for the World Cup, which will be held there next year (2014).  One idea we've had is to time my concert to coincide with the World Cup, so our visit could have a dual purpose.  A lawyer I've met at conferences is keen to attract visitors to his city, where matches will be held.  It would be nice to be able to take up that invitation.

But will the streets still be burning?

Why this outbreak of violence, and when will it stop?








Sunday, 16 June 2013

Life as Cabaret


Saturday at Cabaret Summer School 2012

By 4.45 pm the line-up extends from the foyer of the Promethean Theatre to outside and down the street. The doors open, people swarm around the bar to buy drinks, and everyone starts to settle into the cabaret-style seating.

Someone amongst the Summer School group is heard to say "I don't want to do it now". But it's too late - we're on.

I'm using deep breathing to settle myself before the show. I've decided that I'm sufficiently prepared - during the day I've written out my entire piece long-hand; apparently that helps to drill the words into your brain. Well, whatever comes out of my mouth in those ten minutes will be my performance tonight.

The theatre is packed. The lights dim; Matthew Carey takes his seat at the piano and introduces the show. He is suave and witty. The audience quickly warms to him, now primed to enjoy themselves.

Carolyn Curtis leads off, with "The Chocolate Swan" - a heart-rending tale of the aspiring ballerina's quest for a career in dance and her thwarted dreams; despite taking extreme measures to stay thin, her body shape is deemed to be wrong for ballet. When the audience applauds, the roof almost lifts off.

I'm next, after Carolyn. My show is "Adventures with a Brazilian" (a pilot for the full-length show I am to develop later), based on the music of Brazilian composer A.C. Jobim. My story describes how bossa nova music transports me to a fantasy world. When the audience laughs early in the piece, it feels good, and I begin to relax. The sound system and lighting are working well. I have friends in the audience. Matthew, accompanying me on piano, seems to read my mind, adapting to whatever I am doing on stage. I'm loving my songs and the words are coming out easily. My patter needs to move a bit faster, but that will come as I get to know the piece better.

I come off stage, and now I'm free to enjoy this show, and also the one at 8 pm.

As I watch each performance, I marvel at the talent on stage, and at the fact that everyone has written their own script, within the space of a week. Some people even perform their own original songs. Each story is drawn from the performer's own life. Stories include a woman's experience of being raised by her grandmother, the tribulations of a drug company salesman, and the musings of a full-time father. I notice the way each show has been influenced by advice given, themes discussed, songs sung, stories unearthed and even chance remarks heard during the week.

The second show comes to an end, but the fun is not over yet - we'll be performing our pieces again in suburban theatres over the next few weeks. We mingle with the audience and congratulate each other. We're feeling happy and relieved. Everyone has improved their skills and achieved their goal of creating and performing an original ten-minute cabaret segment.

The following day, I contemplate what's next. I'd like to expand my segment into a full-length show. I now start to consider how I'd do that, and begin to note down ideas for new material, as well as phrases I could use to promote the show. I wonder who I can get to help me. I start to feel the vocal improvements from the week starting to settle within me. I've got lots of new things to practise, but this week's tuition has definitely made me sing better.

I resolve to stop regarding myself as a newbie or some sort of "wild-card" entry. I've seen the improvements that can be achieved through coaching and practice. Sure, I don't have a performing background, but I'm not going to let that stop me achieving what I want to achieve in the future.

Here's the video of my performance:





Friday, 14 June 2013

Tonight, tonight

I like to trust in the power of sleep. Work really hard on a problem, then sleep on it. When I wake up this morning I suddenly feel that my show has fallen into place. I go out on my walk, purposely leaving my i-pod at home, so I will be forced to practise. I rehearse by talking to myself out loud. Goodness knows what the neighbours think. I sing out loud too, like a mad-woman.

It's going to be fine. 

I'm off to the hairdresser at noon and that will give me a bit of quiet reflection time while I sit under the foils. No mindless magazines for me today.

I've been reflecting on the collective value of small decisions. Small decisions add up. The decision to perform at open mic every month, The decision to enrol in Cabaret Summer School again this year, to immerse myself in it to the exclusion of most other things, decisions to speak at events even if I was not going to be paid. Pushing myself to learn as many songs as possible. And having a double singing lesson each week last year has definitely improved my voice.

Whereas at last year's showcase, I'd had to learn two of my songs from scratch (extreme sport!), I've sung all three of this year's songs before. That gives me a bit of confidence - I've done the groundwork.

There's really not much point obsessing now. My performance will be whatever comes out of my mouth tonight. Two things have helped me to cease the panic. One is the regular "Table Topics" session at my Toastmasters club, where you are required to get up and give an impromptu speech on a topic which is given to you on the spot. The other is the monthly open mic night Cabaret Live! where you don't know when you will be called up to sing. There's no point stressing for the whole night, so you might as well breathe a bit and relax.

Hopefully all this will come together tonight!




Sunday, 9 June 2013

"I don't know what I mean, until I see what I say"

Friday at Cabaret Summer School, 2012.

Cabaret is an extreme sport.

Today reality is sinking in. We're on stage tomorrow in front of an audience. This morning we rehearse our segments, and they are raw. 

My piece is "Adventures with a Brazilian".  I only dreamed up the finale of my show last night. I'm now clear about the point of my story, but I still need to find the words to convey it succinctly and entertainingly. My run-through this morning is mainly ad-libbed, and the whole set needs a lot of tightening up. I'm videoing each of my performances during the week, so I've captured what I said - hopefully there will be some phrases there that I'll be able to use in my show. There's a famous quote that says "I don't know what I mean, til I see what I say" - and it certainly helps to record what comes out of your mouth when you're in flow, rather than simply trying to write it down.

Everyone has developed a show. Some great stories, and emotion pouring out in places. Some of that is quite raw, too, and there is discussion about "How will you know that you'll be OK with this material when you're on on stage?" It's not the months or years that count; it's the extent to which you have processed the event emotionally. In the speaking business it is said "Don't do therapy on the stage" - you don't want the audience feeling sorry for you. Someone said this week "No self-pity on stage - it is courage that breaks hearts". There's lots of that amongst this group.

We then spend some time working on our patter, and by 2 pm we are all at The Promethean, ready to rehearse on stage.

It feels quite different to stand on the stage - it's not a classroom, and although it's only a small theatre, the space feels huge. After today I'm feeling quite wrung out.  During my set I "draw a blank" whilst on-stage. Of course, it's best to do that in rehearsal, so you know which bits you need to practice, but it's dented my confidence slightly. 

Although I'm a second-time participant in this program, I'm well aware that we are not that well-prepared yet. Our segments didn't exist on Monday, or even yesterday. They are all newly created, and will need quite a bit of refinement and polish. Some of them will eventually expand from ten minutes to a full-length show of up to an hour. That's a lot of work, but there has to be a first time to perform your piece, and it's only by performing that you get a feel for what works and what doesn't work so well. 

So - it's time to memorize some patter. I like to do this while walking - so tomorrow I'll be up early and pacing around the neighbourhood talking to myself. I hope I can get a decent sleep tonight.

View my video blog from Friday at Cabaret Summer School

Watch "My Cabaret Journey" - a video montage of my week at Cabaret Summer School



Thursday, 6 June 2013

It's Showbiz

Thursday at Cabaret Summer School 2012.

"You have to get out and promote your show".  This the essence of "open access" performance art.  The artist is responsible for the success of the show.

Today three of us take part in a photo shoot for The Advertiser Newspaper. We all put on our glitziest outfits and head for The Promethean theatre, where we are interviewed by Arts reporter Patrick Macdonald. Then photographer Naomi puts us through our paces. We are draped on couches, we pout, kick up our heels, sprawl on steps and almost stop the traffic by posing outside the theatre in sparkles at 11 in the morning.

While this is happening, it occurs to me that we make a strange group - a burlesque dancer, a professional comedienne and an escaped lawyer. Never mind the fact that I'm 20+ years older than the other two. What a fun morning.  We remain in costume to return to Summer School, to show the others how we presented for the shoot. Next time, I'd wear more makeup and glitzier shoes. A ukelele makes a good prop....

Meanwhile, the others have been involved a comedy workshop with the wonderful Jo Coventry, which the three of us join upon our return. . We are asked to tell of a funny or weird experience, then teh group identifies the funny bits, and discusses how it could be made funnier. Lots of laughs.

Jo remains with us after lunch, to help us in rehearsing our 10-minute shows.

Yessss! I do have a show. The concept has come together gradually. I've continually made notes during this week. Every time I think of a fragment of an idea, I write it down, because these thoughts can vanish as quickly as they appear.

We heard a great variety of stories - everyone has had life experiences that can make a good story, and can be humorous. You have to pay attention to where people laugh - often in unexpected places. What you think is ordinary can be fascinating to someone who doesn't inhabit your world.

I am determined to present my show in as complete a form as possible. Saturday is not far away. And input from the group can be gold. As a speaker, I know that every time you get up and speak, you'll be better next time. Stage time, stage time. Seeing how a line goes across, and feeling what it's like to say the words, help to crystallize your thinking. One by one, problems are solved and the concept comes together as a whole.

These segments have been percolating all week. Everyone's come up with an intriguing piece - a window on their life. Over the years, when I've been asked to speak or write, I've learned that I can trust myself to "come up with something" - you just have to give it time and attention.

Tomorrow we go into the theatre to rehearse, ready for the big event on Saturday.

It's Showbiz!


View my video blog from Thursday of Cabaret Summer School



I'm on the right, with Carla Conlin (left) and Jenny Wynter (centre) 




Tuesday, 4 June 2013

Trust the process

I'm trusting the process.

I have to - because my show is no further advanced than it was yesterday.

Today (Wednesday) I take up all the opportunities on offer.  I participate in three masterclasses.  None of the songs I sing today will feature in my show on Saturday.  Today is just a personal development day.  The three workshops are - European songs, Sondheim songs and Ballads.

Many of us challenge our own self-concept today. I hear comments such as "I'm not a jazz singer"; "Should I even dare to sing this?" I'm glad to know that I'm not the only one to have the occasional self-doubt. I've never thought of myself as a "musical theatre person".  I only know one Sondheim song - "Send in the Clowns", so I sing that one.

I'm loving the culture of achievement and daring.  We all take risks. No one is told that the song they've chosen is too ambitious.  I begin to realize that no one performs a song perfectly the first time they sing it. And what is perfect, anyway? You are meant to perform your own version of the song - there's no point in trying to re-create something that already exists. It's not about meeting a standard, but but utilizing your unique qualities to the full.

Although these workshops divert me from the path of preparing for my show, they enable me to spend more time singing. As a professional speaker, I know that getting plenty of stage time is crucial. It's just not as valuable to practice in your bedroom or with a teacher, as it is to get in front of a real audience. During the past two years, I've sung at open-mic nights, and I generally get three minutes of stage time per month - maybe six, if I get the chance to sing two songs. Even that small amount of performance time has helped enormously. You have to get used to being on your own in the spotlight and engaging the audience. The feeling is completely different from singing with a band, where there is a whole line-up of musicians and instruments,  In that situation there is plenty going on and plenty for the audience to look at. You're really just one of several instruments in the group, and you can all draw energy from each other. In cabaret it's just you. 


Last year I performed more often -in extra shows during the Festival Fringe, and with my own twenty-minute show as part of a Kabarett event in the Cabaret Fringe. The extra stage time made me feel more comfortable on stage, and I've begun to feel I could do more - I could even have my own full-length show. I would not have believed this a year ago.

It's like anything - the more you do it, the easier it gets, the more you enjoy it, and the better you get at it. 

I'm hearing so many songs and a lot of creative ideas for how to perform them. I'm glad I decided to take part in these workshops, instead of holding back because I didn't know the songs well enough.


It occurs to me what a privilege it is to be asked "What would you like to sing?" Whatever sheet music you produce, the very skilled pianist can play it. 

Cabaret Summer School is a hot-bed of talent.

Now, about the show for Saturday.....


View my video blog from Wednesday of Cabaret Summer School

Monday, 3 June 2013

Ahead already!

By the end of Day 2, I'm two days ahead of where I was at last year's Cabaret Summer School. I have actually developed the basis of a show.

I've decided on my three songs. I've worked out the dramatic middle section and drafted some patter. Now I still need to work out the beginning and the end, then polish it up, but it's averted the panic, freeing me up to enjoy the opportunities on offer during the week.

On this Tuesday morning we are treated to a jazz workshop with Libby O'Donovan. I'm one of four people to be "workshopped" by Libby. It's my first time in a jazz workshop.  Each person has chosen a different style of music and has different challenges to address.  As a result, across the four performances there is a range of advice. I capture my workshop on video so I can come back and watch it again. This is important as my focus is on rhythm - you need to hear it repeatedly and drum it into your head!

There is also a small group workshop with Libby in which we take a well-known song and convert it to a "swing" style. Everyone has the opportunity to sing during this session. I also have a session of vocal coaching with Libby during the afternoon. She gives me some extremely helpful and creative suggestions for song interpretation. I've now had all three of my songs workshopped, so maybe I can try out some other songs over the next couple of days.

We also spend some time developing our show titles, and our "patter" to link the songs. It's great to hear what other people are thinking, and to toss around ideas. When your mind is stimulated, ideas come together.

Sidonie Henbest presents a thought-provoking workshop on how to market yourself and your show. I think we all start seeing ourselves differently as a result of Sidonie's insights.

I'm really enjoying the company of the other performers and it's great to watch them perform. The atmosphere is full of energy and enthusiasm. Tomorrow we'll reach the half-way mark. The sense of anticipation is building!

View my video blog of Tuesday at Cabaret Summer School

"You are enough"

Sixteen of us embark upon Cabaret Summer School 2012.

Once again, each of us will create an original, ten-minute solo cabaret and we will perform them on Saturday night at The Promethean Theatre.

During Monday morning we introduce ourselves and share our goals for the week.  We're a varied group, with a wide range of experiences.  I find it fascinating to hear about the different paths that people have taken through life.  Regardless of background, everyone now has the opportunity to create something unique.  

As this is my second time at Cabaret Summer School, I know how quickly the week passes.  I'm determined to wring as much value from it as possible. Whereas last year I was a bit reticent about expressing my objectives, today I do not hold back. There's no point keeping your goals a secret from people who can help you to achieve them.  I rashly declare that I want a solo show in the Cabaret Fringe, and to perform in Rio.

We then move into the first Masterclass. Each person sings a song of their choice and is workshopped in front of the group.  We all write feedback notes for each performer (to be distributed at the end of the day). We're asked to focus on what we liked about the performance and to provide helpful suggestions, not criticism. Matthew and Catherine give their feedback publicly. We then have the opportunity to sing again and put the feedback into action.

My song is "This Happy Madness" by the Brazilian composer Jobim. I'm obsessed by this song and have listened to the recording (sung by Jobim himself) hundreds of times. This means I know the song very well, but without realizing it, I'm imitating Jobim's phrasing.  Catherine encourages me to identify what the song means for me and to hold this idea in my mind whilst singing the words of the song. 

I'm surprised how nervous I feel during this exercise. You think you'll be fine, then when you get up and start singing, the adrenaline kicks in. I need two hands on the microphone to keep it from exercising its own free will.  Catherine offers me some acting techniques to help me connect with the lyrics and with the audience. This moves me outside my comfort zone, but I've learned that when experts are there to help you there's no point protesting and wasting time - just do what they are asking you to do and get on with it.

Cabaret Summer School is a bit like the Hogwarts school in the Harry Potter stories.  There are so many special talents.  Some people perform their own compositions and accompany themselves, either on piano or ukelele.  Plus we have a professional comedienne in the group. 

The big message from today is "You are enough".  Don't imitate other people or be the way you think others expect you to be. Authenticity on the platform is very "watchable".  


I heard this last year, but it's a message that's too easy to forget.

View my first workshop performance

View my video blog about Day 1