Tonight, as part of the 56th annual Alexandra Blossom Festival, the Alexandra Musical Society begins a week-long season of Buddy Holly. Rather than go behind the scenes, Shane Gilchrist chooses a different vantage point.
[SCENE 1]
As an optometrist, Hunter Hill is paid to stare into others' eyes. In the Alexandra Musical Society's hall, however, he's doing it for free, the novice actor applying a little pathos to his often-passionate rendition of Buddy Holly.
At this particular juncture in the musical tribute to the late American rock 'n' roll star, Buddy is consoling his wife, Maria Elena (played by Grace Gibbons), who has had a nightmare on the eve of his fateful final tour in 1959. The remedy? Buddy whips out an acoustic guitar and sings her a gentle ballad; his heart, meanwhile, is racing at the chance to take his music on the road again.
This juxtaposition of confidence and concern mirrors the progress of the Alexandra Musical Society's annual production, the opening night of which coincides with the showpiece events of the 56th annual Alexandra Blossom Festival today, when thousands converge on the Central Otago town to watch floats, hop on carnival rides and eat hot dogs topped with a tomato sludge that often finds a home on young chins and cheeks.
[SCENE 2]
It's a Friday morning, eight days before opening night. From the musty bowels of the Alexandra Memorial Theatre, where an old upright piano sits near a kitchen that has possibly borne witness to a tale or two, a distinctive sound can be heard. Upstairs, all is revealed. Enter stage right and director Bryan Aitken is working the narrow end of a vacuum cleaner across the darkened floor, revealing his attention to detail is not solely focused on the manoeuvring of people and emotion.
Aitken has worked in the arts for more than 50 years. A former associate director and original company member of the Court Theatre, in Christchurch, he is now a freelance tour manager, director and tutor and was at the helm of the Alexandra Musical Society's version of The Full Monty in 2011.
Aitken knows a lot about naked vulnerability, and acknowledges such a concept need not apply solely to scenes sans clothes. He has a fine balancing act: he demands a certain standard, yet understands that the (often busy) lives of cast and crew go on outside the walls of the theatre.
''I'm always looking closely at where people's problems lie, whether they are carrying tension, or if they don't understand intellectually or theatrically what's required.
''I come as a tutor-director. My big thing, always, is leaving skills behind; that people are left more able than when I arrived.''
The key, he says, is not to dictate how a person performs, ''otherwise, all you get is copycat inflections and so on. I learned that at a young age. I saw for myself that you could end up with a dozen Bryan Aitkens on stage.''
[SCENE 3]
Having spent a glorious spring Sunday afternoon indoors, two dozen or so cast and crew members gather around to be reminded by Aitken that although this show has an inherent pace (simply by virtue of its rock 'n' roll soundtrack), such slickness needs to be offset by a portrayal of ''humanity''. Still, that shouldn't be a problem, given the life experience of those involved in various facets of this production ranges in age from 14 to beyond 70. That wide demographic mirrors the show's audience, though more than a few children are likely to attend tomorrow's matinee, at which they will bear witness to the results of all those lines spoken or sung in showers, kitchens and lounges over the past few months.
Aitken points out the musical society committee has full control over what show it wishes to bring to the stage: ''They know their community. If you look at the last three years [The Full Monty, Rush and Buddy Holly] you'll see they are all vastly different, not only appealing to different sectors of the community but also to different artists, which provides opportunities to different people.
''There is always a second choice of production. Because we were talking about Buddy a year out, there were conditions of being able to get someone to play Buddy as well as a boy band that could also act. It wasn't fully confirmed until May when we held full auditions.''
[SCENE 4]
The show's musical director Bronwyn Barnes and choreographer Michelle Ruffell are seated in the arts wing at Dunstan High School, another source of talent from which the musical society can draw. Take this year: several pupils are involved as actors, dancers, singers and musicians in Buddy Holly.
The pair, teachers at the school, believe that even in a town of Alexandra's size (population: 5000, roughly), the public's expectations of a local show are higher than they used to be.
''For the musical society, the biggest leap has been in terms of the technical aspects of a show - which is what elevates a show to the next level,'' Barnes says.
''Shows often no longer have those backdrop-type sets. It depends on the vision of the director, but an attempt is made to make all those scenes and divisions as seamless as possible now.''
That quest for simplicity can be anything but simple for those working behind the scenes.
''I'm not concerned about the band or the vocals. It's the fear of the unknown, the technical side of things,'' Barnes says, her worries echoed by Ruffell, who notes the move from the Alexandra Musical Society's headquarters to the actual performance venue offers another learning curve for all involved.
''The idea of moving from the clubrooms to the theatre is tricky because the actors have been addressing the audience in a certain way - i.e. they have been right in front of them - and now the person in the back row of the theatre needs to see them. So it's almost a case of starting again.''
[SCENE 5]
Another sunny Sunday has gone by in a flurry of activity although, as per the dynamics of theatre (according to those who know these things), there are plenty of ''hurry-up-and-wait'' moments. After a 10am start, myriad technical details have been attended to and the long day ends about 6pm when, in fading light, cast and crew gather around a barbecue.
Hunter Hill is devouring a burger. He's earned it. As Buddy, he is involved in virtually every scene, and is required to sing and play guitar constantly. In short, it's a demanding part.
It is also the 32-year-old's first musical. In fact, it's his first acting role full stop.
A musical society member had mentioned the possibility of Hill auditioning for the lead role last year, but he brushed it off at the time (''Whatever ... I'm not a musical-type person''). Yet Hill is a musical person: he performs in Alexandra covers band The Sellouts, the members of which also hold starring roles in the show.
''People were saying that no-one else was going to audition as Buddy, so I thought I'd better give it a good nudge. I'm not too bad at memorising stuff. There are a couple of bits here and there, but once I decide to do something, I definitely want to do a good job.''
[SCENE 6]
Lastly, to my role in all this. From the lower reaches of the Alexandra Memorial Theatre, hair slick with Brylcreem, features augmented by eyeliner, I venture forth. A costume that suggests erstwhile country musician is slung on a hook upstairs, beyond a swinging door that offers an animated squeak each time I pass, as if in artistic protest.
A muppet in a Moulin Rouge world I may well be. Yet, the curtains have parted on an aspect of theatre I hadn't considered until the past few weeks.
As our director puts it: ''It's that coming together. When it starts to gel it is incredibly exciting. Theatre is a team sport and it has similar demands. For short periods of time, it is very intensive.''
As this production moves from opening night to final show on Friday, October 4, it is likely camaraderie, too, will take a bow.
As British musician Paul Weller once sang: ''Lights go out, walls come tumbling down.''
