First Night Reflections - Pirates of Penzance with Eastbourne G&S

Tonight is the opening night of Eastbourne G&S’s Pirates of Penzance, and I shall be playing Mabel – the leading lady. I joined the cast after someone else dropped out, only a month or so ago, and have crammed like mad to learn the part. It’s been 20 years since I performed in a show (not counting the odd concert or wedding) and I find it hard to believe where the time has gone. In those years (since Die Fledermaus with EODS in 1994), a lot has happened. I’ve been to university, had four different partners and married one of them, moved to London, Brighton and back to Eastbourne again, I’ve worked in bookshops, publishing, social media and beauty, lost two close contemporaries to cancer, become an auntie, bought a flat and now a house, and travelled to dozens of countries. But amongst all that, I have missed singing. I should say, I’ve never actually stopped singing – to myself around the house, in the car, while out shopping, and jamming with friends – but there’s nothing like the thrill of a paying/willing audience to reward one’s efforts.

As I warm up my rusty vocal cords this afternoon, I'm doing my best to channel Ben and Rose - my great-grandparents – who met as opera singers in the D’Oyly Carte. Thanks to them I have grown up with a love of Gilbert & Sullivan - having the hits sung to me by my mum, and learning many arias myself to perform in festivals and concerts. With all that familial sway, it amazes me that I have reached my thirties before actually performing in a full-blown G&S show. But here I am, limbering up for a week of piratical adventures, complete with tongue twisting lyrics and breath-defying cadenzas. I’m excited and nervous in equal measure, but wasn't that always the case?

Ben & Rose Williams

If you’d like to witness my theatrical comeback, tickets are on sale from Eastbourne Theatres and we are performing from tonight until Saturday, with matinees on Weds and Sat. You can sneak a little preview by watching the video above, of a promotional sing the cast did in Eastbourne town centre last weekend.

Robin Hood at the Devonshire Park Theatre

As has been the tradition for the past few years, on Thursday I went to see the Eastbourne pantomime in the final week of its run, followed straight afterwards by the crew's spoof version. This year's show was Robin Hood, an unusual choice, and all the better for it. Apart from the first panto I worked on in 1992 (Robinson Crusoe), it's felt like a never-ending cycle of the three favourites - Aladdin, Jack and the Beanstalk and Cinderella, so it was nice to see something more original, especially written for Eastbourne.

Since the town started producing its own pantomimes a few years ago, a distinct culture has been fostered around the festive production that is largely to do with the familiar faces that keeping popping up. Regulars such as Martyn Knight, Carl Patrick and David Alder have built up a warm rapport with the local audience over the years, making for an intimate, conspiratorial atmosphere. This year's token TV celeb was Eastenders' John Altman, aka 'Nasty' Nick Cotton. 

Pantomime is by its nature formulaic. One expects and looks forward to the essential components: the 'he's behind you' scene, the slapstick chase, the soppy romantic bit, the duel, the songsheet, the transformation - all tied up with a good dose of bawdy humour and a sprinkling of innuendo for the grown ups. 

I can remember as a chid being genuinely terrified by the panto villain, with his or her over the top make up and ominous green lighting, and if anything was missing from this year's panto, it was the lack of a convincing baddie. Karen Mann did an admirable job in the supporting role as Nottingham's mother, but the main man himself was more grumpy than menacing. 

Tracey Penn was a textbook principle boy in the title role of Robin, belting out her numbers in a crowd-pleasing West End style. Some of the cast's other best singers, including David Alder and Nicholas Colicos, were disappointingly under-ultilised, but the choice of music was generally pleasing. I especially enjoyed Carl Patrick's rendition of The Lazy Song - a laid back reggae tune, nicely choreographed, that broke up the usual ballad/rock/ballad selection. 

Although we all know it's a filler to allow the big finale set change to happen, I thought this year's songsheet scene was a little uninspiring. As always, the kids that got up on stage were the funniest part of this section. One of the boys, when asked who his favourite character was, replied in earnest "Peter Pan", which greatly tickled the cast and audience. 

Overall it was an excellent production with plenty of laughs, that rounded off my festive season perfectly. The crew's Cod version - an institution that has grown from year to year - was, as ever, hysterical. Here are some little snippets to give you a flavour - though of course I appreciate it is funnier if you know the people involved: 

Next year's Christmas production is to be Sleeping Beauty, another less conventional choice that I hope will bring opportunities for more experimental elements. I would love to see some other more obscure fairy tales given the Eastbourne panto treatment in future years, too. If they wanted to be really progressive, the producers could even let the town vote on what the 2013 show should be.

Things to Do In Eastbourne This Spring

Since moving back to Eastbourne from Brighton in December, I've been working hard to re-establish my roots here by making the most of local life. I do miss being able to step out of my house and virtually straight into any number of appealing restaurants, pubs and gigs and this feeling is especially evident with Brighton Festival about to start. But all those things are only a 30 minute train ride away and if you know where to look for them, Eastbourne has plenty of charms of its own. Lately there've been fabulous dinner parties with old school friends, lovely long walks along the peaceful seafront, many more family gatherings than before and a surprising number of interesting happenings in and around town.

Last weekend we went along to the Magnificent Motors vintage car show (see picture, right) in Princes Park and have signed up to a load more local events in the next few weeks. For those curious about what the Sunshine Coast has to offer, here are some suggested things to do in Eastbourne in May and June.

Sat 7th May - Green Fayre, Gildredge Park

A village fete with a conscience, Green Fayre is one of the more appealing events in the Eastbourne Festival 2011 calendar. Especially so to me, as I live just across the road from Gildredge Park, in Old Town. I'm particularly looking forward to the promise of gypsy swing and folk music, the 'Frock n Roll' clothes swap and some yummy organic/veggie food stalls.

Mon 16th May - Animal Collective, Winter Garden

When Beirut played at the Winter Garden last year it was absolute mayhem of the like rarely seen in Eastbourne's theatre district (or anywhere in Eastbourne for that matter). Although it's on a Monday night, expect similar excitement for Animal Collective, with bus loads of Brighton hipsters making the trip along the coast to see the band's only UK tour date outside of ATP Festival. For more details and tickets, see the Melting Vinyl website.

Sun 22nd May - Finzi Quartet, All Saints Chapel

Perhaps more hip replacement than hipster, this classical recital is part of the Meads Music Festival - a series of Sunday afternoon concerts at the beautiful All Saints Chapel. This one happens to be on my wedding anniversary, so I'm hoping for romantic string arrangements in the shape of some soothing Mendelssohn and Ravel.

Sat 28th - Sun 29th May - Eastbourne Fiesta, Western Lawns

Billed as 'Eastbourne's first cultural fusion of food, real ales, live entertainment and fun!', Eastbourne Fiesta is going down on the last weekend of the month in the pleasant Western Lawns - just a stone's throw from the marvellous Towner Gallery. Since the official website insists on making you download a PDF in order to access the programme, I've taken the liberty of embedding it on Scribd. I'd probably give the Sunday morning bagpipes a miss, but I do recommend local band Gadzooks, who are playing at 2pm that same afternoon.

Friday 3rd June - Magic Hat Ensemble, Under Ground Theatre

If you can get past its terrible website, the Under Ground has some pretty decent gigs going on. I've lined up folk, gypsy, swing, indie and classical music, but I couldn't let the season pass without a jazz fix - and this looks like the best option. If you're a jazz fan and have never heard of the Magic Mat Ensemble, give them a listen.

Tues 7th June - That Comedy Thing, The  Lamb

This is a regular night that I've been meaning to attend since my return to The Bourne. It's at my local pub, so there's no excuse other than working too hard and being rubbish. But when a friend mentioned recently that the legendary Jimbob of Carter USM fame was doing a slot in June, I was finally spurred into action and have booked tickets. If you know what I'm talking about, you can get yours here.

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So you see, Eastbourne isn't all cauliflower perms and zimmer frames - but don't go telling everyone, as I quite like the peace and quiet here. If you're in need of refreshment in between all this excitement (and I know I will be), I heartily recommend Central Eating - a very groovy new cafe that has popped up on Terminus Road. Expect a full write up of my other Eastbourne culinary adventures very soon.

Top Five All Time Worst Hangovers

When you're in the midst of one, it's not even remotely amusing, but the great thing about hangovers is that you can look back and laugh... Laugh at the mortifying memory of pressing your face against the tiled bathroom floor and praying for death, laugh at the preposterous excuses with which you tried to palm off your boss to avoid having to work on the Morning After, laugh at the person you shared it with who was even worse than you. Let's face it, hangovers are funny.

These days my hangovers tend to be more easily acquired but less intense  in nature - perhaps a symptom of my reduced capacity for alcohol combined with an increased sense of moderation. The last Hangover Horriblis - and possibly the worst ever - was almost a year ago, but still strong enough in my memory to curb my propensity to over-indulge. That particular one was so bad that it has become a regular subject of rueful reminiscence between me and my better half, with whom I shared the whole sorrowful experience. 

The other evening we were discussing that very day and started comparing it to other epic hangovers of the past. As a result, I came up with this list of my top five worst ever hangovers, which I present now for your enjoyment. Please feel free to laugh, I did.

In reverse order of severity:

Eastbourne, 1993

A fairly typical case of teenage intemperance, this one is memorable for its humorous Morning After scenario. At the time, my boyfriend Chris and I were house-sitting for my dad and step-mum, who were away sailing round Europe. We used to have friends over to stay quite often, most notably Natalie and Craig, who lived in Hailsham and could save on taxi fares after a night out by crashing on our sofa bed. On one such occasion, we'd all been out with the usual theatre crowd, most probably to TJ's (still going strong), I imagine it would have been a Thursday. I remember Carlo being there on the walk back to Longstone Road and he, Natalie and me all rolling down what felt like a never-ending hill side but turned out the next day to be merely a small grassy bank. 

The next morning I couldn't face going into work, not least because my workplace (the now defunct Torq the jeweller) was a small glass box on a sunny corner and not the most pleasant place in which to endure a hangover. Feeling too feeble and scared to do it myself, I asked Natalie to call in sick for me. She was happy to do so, but neither of us had thought to come up with a plausible story before she dialled. My boss picked up and Nat calmly informed her "Rowan won't be in today, she's got a stomach upset". "Who is this?" asked my boss. A look of panic struck Natalie's already bloodhsot eyes "It's ....[long pause].... her.... auntie" she said, entirely unconvicingly. My boss never exactly confronted me about this flagrant truancy, but the arched eyebrow that greeted me on my next shift was enough to ensure I never attempted such a stunt again.

Exeter, 2007

The occasion was Brian's 30th, the venue was a pub in Exeter town centre and then back to Brian's student digs (he was studying for his PCGE at the time). I had been suffering from 'flu and necking Benylin like it was going out of fashion. That and the bottle of Captain Morgan's that I polished off (with a little help from Nick, pictured right - this was the point at which the hangover became inevitable) proved to be a savage combination.

Ant and I were staying in a B&B but didn't make it back there until the wee small hours and had to check out again soon after. God knows how Ant, who was in a bad way too, managed to chauffer the whole Brighton gang home again later that day. I was supposed to be sharing the driving, but could barely function enough to help with directions. Ant said it was like driving an ambulance, or a Hearse, as the rest of us slumped silently in our seats for the entire five hour trip home.

Brighton and Eastbourne, 1999

I have an excuse for this one, other than the usual wanton self-indulgence. It was the funeral of one of my oldest and dearest friend's mother, just months after the death of another close friend and contemporary. The only way to get through it was to drink. A lot. I was living back at home in Eastbourne after uni and working at Brighton Waterstone's at the time. 

After drowning my sorrows right through from the afternoon wake through to some ungodly hour in the morning, I dragged myself into work after very little sleep and proceeded to hide at the back of the ground floor, in what was then the travel section. It quite quickly became too much though, and I told my very kind and understanding boss that I needed to go home. She called my mum to come and collect me because by then I was too sickly to negotiate public transport. Noone explicitly mention the H word, but everyone clearly knew the reason for my green gills and fevered brow. Bless my mum for not as much as tutting when I asked her to pull over so I could throw up in the gutter at Peacehaven.

Harrogate, 2005

It happened whilst working on an HR exhibition during my time at Wiley. Somehow after dinner, my colleagues and I managed to blag our way into a Guardian party at the hotel where we were staying, at which the free booze was flowing. I don't remember much about the evening except for singing Joni Mitchell songs in the lobby, accompanied by Darren (who just happened to have his guitar in his car) and desperately guzzling pints and pints of water before bed at 5am, hoping that I'd sober up by 8 when I had to be up again. It didn't work.

By the time the hangover kicked in, I was on the stand at the exhibition, the glaring halogens burning through my tattered soul. It quickly became apparent that I would be of no use to anyone and one of my colleagues took pity and gave me his car keys so that I could go and lie down on the back seat. I never thought I could feel that awful again, but four years later, I did.

San Francisco, 2009

Nobody wants to spend the last day of their holiday asleep in bed, but that's nearly how we finished our time in San Francisco last Spring, when the mother of all hangovers consumed us both. I blame the guys at the PWN Depot, who had plied us with punch at their party the night before, on top of a whole load of cocktails we'd guzzled at the Elbo Room en-route. There's a detailed account of the night's proceedings and its painful consequences here, but for the purposes of this post, I shall reiterate the worst bits.

The first thing I knew about the post PWN Depot hangover was when the sun came up and straight through the flimsy drapery that passed for a curtain in our room the next morning. After several hours of fending off daylight with T-shirts slung over our aching eyes, we  eventually braved the outside world in search of sustenance and found ourselves in the amazing Boogaloo cafe (pictured left). Once fed and marginally repaired, we wandered over to Dolores Park hoping for a quiet lie down under a tree, little expecting to be confronted by a full-blown Mexican festival. Not the most obvious hangover cure, but actually surprisingly soothing, the Marichi band was a welcome distraction from the persistent nauseau and regret, and at least made us feel that we had done something cultured with the day.

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Tell Me About Your Hangover and Win Free Stuff

Now it's your turn. Share your worst ever hangover and why it was so awful - gory details and embarrassing facts included, please. Whichever one makes me laugh the most will win a hangover survival kit. Closing date for comments, Feb 28th 2010.

A Festive Finale, the Devonshire Park Theatre Way

Officially the Christmas festivities finished on Wednesday 6th Jan, also known as Twelfth Night, when decorations should have been down and mince pies eaten up ready for the obligatory New Year dieting regime - but I managed to stretch it out one more day by going to see a pantomime on Thursday 7th. Tacky, garish and predictable, pantomime is a great British tradition widely loved (including by me) for exactly those reasons. Anyone who grew up in this country and got taken to pantomime as a child will be pre-programmed with all the necessary responses - "he's behind you", "oh no it isn't", "boo, hiss" etc - to be able to participate without thinking. It's a shared experience, comforting in its familiarity.

For those of us on the inside, there is another great tradition that accompanies the pantomime season and that is the crew Cod panto - where the backstage team get dressed up and mercilessly (but fondly) mock the show for the enjoyment of its actors. Having worked for Eastbourne Theatres for many years back in my teens and early twenties, I am lucky enough to get an invite to see the Devonshire Park's annual Cod - this year 'Jack and His Big Stalk' which took place after the public show last Thursday. Quite apart from the enjoyment of seeing old friends donning drag and prancing about camply, the Cod was genuinely amusing by virtue of its sharply side-splitting script - written by the DP's resident Stage Manager (and my dear friend), Paul Debreczeny. You can catch a few highlights in this little YouTube video of mine.

The Turns and Twirlies (aka actors and dancers) took the ridicule in good part and actually seemed quite impressed at the previously hidden talents of their behind-the-scenes colleagues. My own dear mum (who works on the stage door) even bagged herself a cameo, showing off her theatrical pedigree - which was again something of a revelation to many of the assembled. What with the added bonus of free-flowing wine throughout the show and catching up with old friends afterwards during a lock-in at the Buccaneer pub next door, it was a very jolly way to round off the seasonal festivities. And a stack of cash was also raised for the Sussex Air Ambulance charity in the process. Good work, chaps.