Chance meeting: a good sign?

Today was our school choir's annual pilgrimage into Sydney Town Hall to participate in the Celebration Concert, raising money for children's charities. Basically, I help escort the (very well-behaved) students into the CBD on a bus, fill in time shopping while they rehearse with the rest of a 1000-voice choir, then take them to their dinner break, and back to enjoy the concert. Not a terribly difficult set of tasks.

As we were getting off the bus, there was my good friend, Jean Prouvaire, on his way to the annual Sydney kick-off meeting of 2007's NaNoWriMo, the (Inter)National Novel Writing Month at Books Kinokuniya.

Was I on my way to the meeting?, he wondered aloud.

How fortuitous! I'd received an official email about NaNoWriMo, but I hadn't made a note of the date; last year these two annual events didn't clash. I had a few hours to kill while the students rehearsed, so I was able to meet up with him at the coffee shop (which had no coffee; their machine was broken. Sigh.) Also at the meeting were my Star Trek Meet-up buddies, the_real_adamj (who went to the kick-off with us last year) and KillRaven (whom we didn't actually know as a fellow Trek fan in 2006), plus about 40 others. KillRaven deserves extra kudos: he finished his novel last November!

Once again, we are supposed to produce about four typed pages daily to achieve the goal of a whole novel manuscript completed during November 2007. Wish me more luck than I had last year; at least this time I have no report cards to write in November!

Of the 400 or so Sydneysiders who attempted NaNoWriMo last year, about 40 supposedly achieved their goal. Not bad odds, I guess, although that may also mean that statistics say that only an average of four people at today's meeting will achieve their word count. (Or maybe all 40 were at today's meeting? Nah; wishful thinking.)

The concert was great, too, by the way. The finale was a medley of Peter Allen songs. "Tenterfield Saddler" gets me in the tear ducts every time! It really is one of those special Australian songs. If I could only capture some of that nostalgic emotion for my NaNoWriMo manuscript...

Sunday's magic number: 92.2 - back up again. I thought I was doing well, too. Damned fund-raising cake days. (What's that point about muscles having a heavier mass than fat?)

Hugh Jackman channels Peter Allen

Saturday night's performance of the Australian Arena Spectacular version of "The Boy from Oz" at the Sydney Entertainment Centre was a triumph. I felt like I'd been in rehearsals for it all week: putting myself into bed at a reasonable hour for several nights in a row to ensure there was no possibility I'd doze off. Not after paying $250 for the ticket.

While I wasn't always believing Hugh Jackman as Peter Allen, there were certainly some times when it seemed like Mr Jackman was channeling the irrepressible spirit of Allen - particularly whenever he flirted with male audience members, or made humorous, gossipy commentary about current celebrities, and those recent celebrity events worthy of Allen's distinctively cheeky, scathing wit, had he still been among us to make comment: Keith Urban and his marriage to Nicole Kidman; Heath Ledger starring in "Brokeback Mountain"; Eric Bana; and even that Hugh Jackman guy (starring as "X-Men"'s Wolverine, and hanging out to audition for James Bond), were favourites.

It was certainly well worth the money spent. Numerous times, I found my cheeks flooding with tears. The way each song was set up to tell a particular aspect of Peter Allen's life, or that of his loved ones, was excellent. These are songs we've heard many times on the radio, and even though I knew that most of them were inspired by aspects of the songwriter's life, watching and hearing them play out in the context of a biographical work really hammers home the emotions within the words.

"When I Get My Name in Lights" is suddenly young Peter's story, as if were never also a highly recognizable Allen song. "All I Wanted was the Dream" and "Quiet Please, There's a Lady on Stage" are the ailing Judy Garland's story. "I'd Rather Leave While I'm in Love" is Liza Minnelli's tearful departure. "I Honestly Love You", so identifiable over the years as an Olivia Newton-John song, suddenly becomes the final farewell from Greg Connell, Peter's dying lover. "Don't Cry Out Loud" becomes an insight into the coping strategies of Peter's mother, Marion Woolnough. "I Still Call Australia Home" brings out the patriotic spirit of the whole audience. And, of course, "Tenterfield Saddler", which turns the whole house into lip-trembling, sniffling wrecks, is a pocket biography of three generations of the Woolnough men. (I understand that the US production omitted "Tenterfield Saddler"; so hard to believe that such a beautiful ballad could be overlooked as something Americans might not understand.)

I was fascinated with the "video content" by Interactive Originals. All of the sets - the neon lights of Times Square and Broadway; the art deco country pub; fireworks over the Sydney Harbour Bridge and Opera House; the Allen Brothers performing on an ancient black and white TV console tuned to "Bandstand"; a lone Tenterfield windmill; and so on - were computer generated, and thrown up onto the huge screen behind the performers. This even included the virtual red theatre curtains, which waved ever so slightly in the virtual breeze. While I wouldn't like to see every play, musical and theatrical event having its sets created this way, the novelty certainly enhanced this show.

I had a few weird deja vu experiences watching the show:

* Chrissie Amphlett, who played Judy: when I was a little kid, my grandfather took me down to "the paperboy's house", a weatherboard cottage (in our street: Terry Street, Arncliffe), which was burning down! It was the first and only time I saw firemen wearing those old brass helmets. I'm not sure if Chrissie herself ever lived there, but supposedly her Dad did, and her brother, "the paperboy" - and there was definitely one Amphlett daughter at my school.

* Angela Toohey, who played Liza: she was once Squeaky the Robot in TV's "Johnson and Friends", a kids' show about toys who lived under a bed! I almost got to do an interview with her, and I was allowed to feature her in my old fanzine, Androidz.

* Production Designer, Brian Thomson: in 1988, Brian worked on a theatre-in-education show called Don't Tell Anyone, for which I was commissioned to write the teachers' notes. I spent several hours talking to him about how he'd designed that play's sets. At the time, I had no idea just how many amazing things he'd designed! His name pops up in credits all the time, and it always give me a buzz that I met him before I knew he was famous! :)

Yes, I'm sure this musical will live with me forever, and that's part of the magic of live performances. Owning the program, the keyring, the coffee mug and the CD soundtrack can only serve as reminders that you were once able to be completely immersed in a theatrical experience for several hours of your life.

I certainly don't see enough live theatre these days.