The White Rabbit
It'll be All Right on the Night
The Mad Hatter has a familiar look: he keeps fit each morning by doing a paper round which includes our street (no, not in his Mad Hatter costume).
That feisty Dormouse, the one with the Italian accent, is my other half in the backdrop painting department: Rita. She's the most multi-talented rodent I've ever had the pleasure to work with.
Nancy, our pianist, has been ill. She made it through the rehearsals but had to step down at short notice for the final performances. Wendy our producer went to a rival group's production at Ossett Town Hall at the weekend, explained our predicament and asked for help; Richard, the Priory Players' pianist, stepped in at the last minute.
'There's no people, like Show people' are there?
Drawing and Dancing
Must put in a word for the Nine of Spades, one of the girls in the chorus; all the young dancers were giving it all they've got but '9' seems like a natural; her actions flow with the music and she seems able to invest an arm movement or a turn with relaxed expressiveness.
I guess that dancing is like drawing; it not just a case of going through
the motions, you have to 'become' what you're doing. In drawing, a meticulous
tracing of a photograph might turn out to be lacking in life while in
dance a technically perfect performance might seem slightly wooden.
A Dance to the Music of Time
Daisy (or is it Buttercup?), the pantomime cow, while not as elegant as number '9', is still very sprightly considering that she dates from 1988. My Mum made the costume in that year and Nancy the pianist tells us she has repaired the costume on dozens of occasions since.
Animal costumes can have enormously long lives. A radio carbon date on a piece of reindeer antler that got chipped off the head-dress of an English mummers' play costume revealed that it dated from the middle ages.
Richard Bell, firstname.lastname@example.org