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.
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.





