I directed a musical. I do not know how to direct a musical. I was in a lot of musicals as a kid. But that doesn't mean I know how to direct a musical. I've been in a lot of cars, and yet I cannot manufacture a car. Some things don't transfer.
Luckily, my actors did not know how to act in a musical, so we were all on equal footing. They were mostly nine-year-olds.
I chose Disney Cinderella Kids, a 30-minute one-act adaptation of the Disney movie (not to be confused with Disney Cinderella Jr., a 45-minute one-act adaptation of the Disney movie) for the following reasons:
1) It has no set changes.
2) All the songs are basically the same, and therefore easy to learn.
3) It is not a good musical. I didn't want to ruin a good musical.
The downside I didn't anticipate was:
1) I WILL HAVE THE SHOW TUNES FROM DISNEY CINDERELLA KIDS STUCK IN MY HEAD FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE.
The reason that going into this musical-directing experience was stressful and scary was I just had no idea what to expect. It was an unknown-unknowns (do people still make fun of that Rumsfeld quote? I feel that it not only makes sense but explains my own mental state in many instances) situation. So the good news is, if/ when I direct next year's annual musical, I'll be much further along on the learning curve.* And if I cast some of the same kids, maybe they will be too. If the kids learned nothing else from this experience, I hope they now realize:
- You must speak loud enough for the audience to hear you. If you don't speak loud enough for the audience to hear you, the audience will not hear you.
- You must face the audience. The audience cannot see you when you are not facing them. This was SO much more difficult for my actors to put into practice than I would have anticipated.
- You can't stand in front of other cast members. The audience cannot see other cast members when you stand in front of them. Come to think of it, most of these lessons are less about stage acting and more about the nature of physical space.
- You have to be in character the entire time you're on stage. If you are on stage, you are a mouse. You don't revert back into a second grader just because you're not currently saying lines. I realized how explicitly I needed to teach this a week or so into rehearsal when I reminded The King (a second grader) to stand like The King in the middle of a scene (he was doing head-rolls and flapping his arms around at the time, which seemed distinctly not king-like) and he said, "but it's not my line!"
And what did I learn from directing a children's musical?
- If you want to direct a musical, you should make sure your school has budgeted for a musical.
- My coworkers are amazing, and have lots of weird stuff in their homes like decorative pumpkins and real trumpets, which they will lend out as props to make up for the fact that the musical has no budget.
- If you lend kids your own personal dresses to wear as costumes, you will never get those dresses back.
- In the weeks leading up to a show, the director is WAY more nervous than the actors. The director has frequent stress dreams in which it's the day of the show and no one has costumes or knows their lines. The daily experience of rehearsal will only make these stress dream scenarios seem more likely and plausible. (The director will also have a stress dream the week after the show in which she forgets to order pizza for the cast party. The director has a lot of stress dreams).
- But when it's time for the show the director knows that they are going to be perfect. And the actors want to pee their pants.
- But THEN when they actually get on stage in the combined gym-auditorium and the curtain rises to reveal several rows of folding chairs containing their parents and teachers... THEN the actors will absolutely bring it and be just as perfect as their director knew they would be.
- The #1 gimmick every show needs is a first grader holding a trumpet that is larger than her torso. This is what America wants.
Since I think it would be weird and illegal to post pictures of my kids on a public blog, I will leave you with a photo of the mouse ears I made out of cardboard (remember the thing about the budget?) and you can just try to picture what they would look like on some children singing Bibbidy-Bobbidy-Boo.
*Puns on the title of this blog never intentional.
Luckily, my actors did not know how to act in a musical, so we were all on equal footing. They were mostly nine-year-olds.
I chose Disney Cinderella Kids, a 30-minute one-act adaptation of the Disney movie (not to be confused with Disney Cinderella Jr., a 45-minute one-act adaptation of the Disney movie) for the following reasons:
1) It has no set changes.
2) All the songs are basically the same, and therefore easy to learn.
3) It is not a good musical. I didn't want to ruin a good musical.
The downside I didn't anticipate was:
1) I WILL HAVE THE SHOW TUNES FROM DISNEY CINDERELLA KIDS STUCK IN MY HEAD FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE.
The reason that going into this musical-directing experience was stressful and scary was I just had no idea what to expect. It was an unknown-unknowns (do people still make fun of that Rumsfeld quote? I feel that it not only makes sense but explains my own mental state in many instances) situation. So the good news is, if/ when I direct next year's annual musical, I'll be much further along on the learning curve.* And if I cast some of the same kids, maybe they will be too. If the kids learned nothing else from this experience, I hope they now realize:
- You must speak loud enough for the audience to hear you. If you don't speak loud enough for the audience to hear you, the audience will not hear you.
- You must face the audience. The audience cannot see you when you are not facing them. This was SO much more difficult for my actors to put into practice than I would have anticipated.
- You can't stand in front of other cast members. The audience cannot see other cast members when you stand in front of them. Come to think of it, most of these lessons are less about stage acting and more about the nature of physical space.
- You have to be in character the entire time you're on stage. If you are on stage, you are a mouse. You don't revert back into a second grader just because you're not currently saying lines. I realized how explicitly I needed to teach this a week or so into rehearsal when I reminded The King (a second grader) to stand like The King in the middle of a scene (he was doing head-rolls and flapping his arms around at the time, which seemed distinctly not king-like) and he said, "but it's not my line!"
And what did I learn from directing a children's musical?
- If you want to direct a musical, you should make sure your school has budgeted for a musical.
- My coworkers are amazing, and have lots of weird stuff in their homes like decorative pumpkins and real trumpets, which they will lend out as props to make up for the fact that the musical has no budget.
- If you lend kids your own personal dresses to wear as costumes, you will never get those dresses back.
- In the weeks leading up to a show, the director is WAY more nervous than the actors. The director has frequent stress dreams in which it's the day of the show and no one has costumes or knows their lines. The daily experience of rehearsal will only make these stress dream scenarios seem more likely and plausible. (The director will also have a stress dream the week after the show in which she forgets to order pizza for the cast party. The director has a lot of stress dreams).
- But when it's time for the show the director knows that they are going to be perfect. And the actors want to pee their pants.
- But THEN when they actually get on stage in the combined gym-auditorium and the curtain rises to reveal several rows of folding chairs containing their parents and teachers... THEN the actors will absolutely bring it and be just as perfect as their director knew they would be.
- The #1 gimmick every show needs is a first grader holding a trumpet that is larger than her torso. This is what America wants.
Since I think it would be weird and illegal to post pictures of my kids on a public blog, I will leave you with a photo of the mouse ears I made out of cardboard (remember the thing about the budget?) and you can just try to picture what they would look like on some children singing Bibbidy-Bobbidy-Boo.
*Puns on the title of this blog never intentional.
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