A few months ago, I decided to audition for St. Mike’s production of the Steven Sondheim musical, Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street. Although I had taken private singing lessons for four years and went to an arts high school, I had never auditioned for a musical theater show before and I had no idea what to expect. Given my lack of experience, I figured that the likelihood of my being accepted was pretty slim.
When I received the e-mail congratulating me on getting a part in the soprano section of the production’s chorus, I was very surprised and equally excited. It wasn’t a lead, but it was my first musical.
CLAIRE SERINGHAUS/THe VARSITY
The first rehearsal, which took place shortly after Thanksgiving weekend, is a night I will never forget. I rushed in late, as I had just come from a class and knew only one other chorus member. As I scrambled to take off my jacket, our musical director, Sam, said, “Okay sopranos, let’s hear the high D again.”
I looked up, my eyes wide. A high D? I hadn’t even warmed up yet, and I can only hit a high C on a good day.
A girl in the soprano section looked at my face, which I can only imagine was contorted in an odd expression of concern, and said, “Yeah, you might want to reconsider being in the soprano section.”
I must admit, I am inherently shy by nature, and the cast initially seemed intimidatingly rambunctious and theatrical. As we sat in the lounge waiting for further instruction from our director, we decided to introduce ourselves.
“Hi, my name is Matt, and I go to York University, third year,” one chorus member said.
“Hi I’m Sean, I go to York University, fourth year, ” chimed in another performer.
I was starting to notice a pattern. I looked at my friend and we exchanged a baffled glance. Was this not a University of Toronto production? Finally, one of the chorus members told the group that she had graduated from the jazz performance program at U of T.
“Oh, — and I got married in the summer!” she exclaimed happily.
Realizing that most of the cast members not only came from a different university, but were also considerably older than me, I could not help feeling completely out of my league. Many of the chorus members had also been performing in U of T musicals for at least two years, and a lot of them already knew each other. How on earth was I going to fit in?
As conversation turned to the rehearsal and production, however, I realized that although everyone in the production boasted varying levels of experience and came from disparate backgrounds, we all had a love for theatre and a genuine desire to produce a fabulous show.
Getting to experience such tangible passion for theatre was quite remarkable. Sweeney Todd’s musical numbers also proved to be great fun to practice. Sondheim’s music is far from simple; his polyrhythmic numbers and haunting melodies are distinctly difficult to learn. But the challenging material only made the rehearsals that much more rewarding.
When opening night finally arrived, we were still doing a run of the show three hours before the show opened, and there was a chaotic frenzy of activity backstage. The nervous jitters were contagious and the chorus members gathered in the green room to have a final moment together before we went onstage and put all that we had into the performance. We formed a circle, holding hands and breathing slowly (definitely not something I did with other members of the orchestra before my cello performances).
Our producer, Eliana, looked at us and said, “You guys just go out and do an awesome job. I have never met a cast as hard working and dedicated as you… It’s time to put all of that hard work to use and to perform an amazing show, because I know you all can do it.
“Ok guys, now I want you to collect all the energy around you! Come on, move!”
We were all dancing, jumping, spinning. “Good, now on the count of three we’re going to release our energy to the center,” Eliana said. “Ready?”
We all looked at each other, laughing. “One, two, three! WOOSH!” we chanted together as we rushed to the take our places in the wings.
I will never forget the feeling as we rushed onstage, as if the whole show depended entirely on us. It was a truly indescribable moment. When we took our final bows to the sound of the audience’s cheers, it made the experience that much more rewarding.
We ran backstage to get changed, the adrenaline from the thrill of the show fuelling our tired bodies. All we wanted to do was relax.
Our director, Mike, came backstage to congratulate the exhausted chorus. “Fabulous job guys!” he said. “Only four more to go!”
