It is 1.30am in the morning. Still no sign of Jasper, Derek and Colin. Although I fear they may be on their way across the Atlantic right at this very minute. Rhys and I have spent a day together in New York. We breakfasted in Brooklyn where I had a breakfast burger (that’s a thing that needs to exist in the UK) and we worked for several hours on making sure the script and the orchestrations matched up.
We were meant to meet Anthony Drewe at the NAMT offices at 2.30pm. When it became clear that we hadn’t finished our updates in time, we pushed the meeting back to 3.00pm. When it became clear that we wouldn’t make that we pushed it back to 3.30pm. When it became clear that we were both arseholes with no sense of time we pushed it back to 4.00pm with the caveat that Ants didn’t have to wait for us if he was too busy. We finally arrived at the NAMT offices in midtown Manhattan at around 4pm. Anthony had visited already and was safely ensconced in his uptown apartment. He shall now forever be my Uptown Girl. Billy Joel will never be the same. Rhys and I visited NAMT, went 24 floors up in the wrong lift, came back down and eventually arrived at NAMT where we filmed ourselves outside the office door. We were greeted inside by the lovely staff who informed us that our main contacts were at a food tasting. After stealing sweets and being generally British and endearing, we went to the English pub next door. Which aside from a lack of carpet and table service was incredibly similar to an actual English Pub. A couple of pints later we returned to the NAMT offices to say hello to Ciera, Karin and co. It was lovely to put names to faces and I was informed that I was the last to provide payment information. I feel as if I had let the UK down. We stole more sweets and then headed to one of their recommended bars for dinner. Interestingly it was called Tailor’s. We assumed named after one of the characters in The Wicker Husband. We then issued forth a tweet and requests for dingy musical theatre bars to occupy. Adam Lenson recommended Marie’s Crisis in the Village. So we walked for half an hour down 8th Avenue and arrived at Marie’s Crisis, where we drank Long Island Ice Tea and stayed for a couple of hours talking about The Wicker Husband. Never let it be said that downtown Manhattan is not the perfect place for mulling over the conundrums of a play set in a swamp in Yorkshire. Rhys went outside for a smoke and noted, upon his return that we were in fact not in Marie’s Crisis at all. We were in fact next door at a Jazz Bar. We promptly left our jazz bar seats and hopped next door where we soon found ourselves surrounded by a hundred people who looked curiously like Adam Lenson, all singing Defying Gravity at the top of their lungs. We stayed for hours singing show tunes to the live piano accompaniment, big ups to Kenny Green our accompanist for the evening. Finally, when we realised that tomorrow morning we had a brunch set up with composer extraordinaire Adam Gwon, we thought we should call it a night and after eating a bunch of pizza fries (don’t ask) we parted and caught ourselves trains home. Right at the minute I’m not entirely sure where Rhys is but I’m definitely glad he is here with me. After all, he is the whole reason any of this came about in the first place. Anyways, time to go. Still no sign of Derek, Jasper and Colin. I can only pray that they’ve been delayed at Gatwick… Tomorrow is Laundry Day.
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Prior to last night I hadn’t slept for 48 hours so I’m not entirely sure what day I’m on. I arrived at JFK around 10.30am having met some nice people on the plane who have invited me to go to Coney Island with them during our time here. It’s very rare that you sit next to someone on an 8 hour flight that you get along with, so thank you Norwegian Air for choosing only a fine person to sit in Seat 42J. I was able to enjoy the flight principally because I had downloaded the entire series of Killing Eve on to my laptop. Fooking entertaining stuff. The other reason I was able to enjoy it was because I wasn’t sharing a seat with Jasper Mountbatten III (my ego) , Derek Bluebottom (my depression) or Colin Shitsmearer (my envy). I can only assume they missed the flight. I can imagine their reasons for doing so right now: JASPER: “Mate, I was out on a complete bender for the last three days, I was up to my eyeballs in coke, MDMA and hookers. Also I was totally munted on fifteen bottles of Champagne. One of the hookers had swallowed my alarm clock so I didn’t wake up in time. You know how it is.” DEREK: “Well, I mean. What’s the point in any of it anyway. You’ll go to New York and you’ll come back and your life will continue it’s dreary, slow-motion plunge towards pathetic oblivion without anything ever changing. So I thought I wouldn’t bother… also one of Jasper’s hookers had swallowed the alarm clock. You know how it is.” COLIN: “Dude, you should be thanking me. I was out super late last night breaking the legs of all the UK writers with new shows on. So when Jasper turned up with the MDMA I kind of joined in until I got envious of him and made one of the hookers swallow his alarm clock. Forgot that it was also mine. You know how it is.” So whilst they are not with me just at this moment, have no fear... I have no doubt that they are all currently on a later flight to the Big Apple and will inevitably find me in my apartment on 7th Street Brooklyn by Prospect Park. They have an innate ability to find me. Which, given that they are intrinsic parts of my psyche is not altogether surprising. I’ll let you know when they arrive… So far, I have eaten two hotdogs and successfully navigated the subway including use of the 3,F,G,A and Air Trains. I have accidentally purchased a 10 trip on the air train and I have conversed with no less than three NY Transit officials about my metro card (I say conversed. But it was more me doing the conversing and them staring at me blankly from behind the glass until I went away). I have been to Grand Central Station and 42nd Street, where I sat in a cafe for 3 hours formatting The Wicker Husband score for appropriate actual human use. The final script and score are due to the NAMT offices by 2pm today and there are some final changes to make. Which is obviously why I’m very busy doing that and not writing a blog about it at all. It was absolutely shitting it down with rain for the entirety of yesterday, whilst at the same time being inordinately hot. The people of New York looked unbothered by such things. They appear to have other things on their minds. Apparently Donald Trump is President of the United States. Who knew? There are also small statues of him dotted around Brooklyn with the words "Pee on me" attached. I have also overheard some conversations in which the participants have told each other very loudly to “F off Sharon!”, “Go and F yourself!” and “I’m already F’ing doing it!” So everything seems very dramatic. So today, the plan is to finish this score and get everything wrapped up nicely on that front. Have brunch with Rhys (who has just arrived and is living quite close to me up the road near Prospect Park as well), then maybe head into the NAMT offices to introduce ourselves. Then I’m going to figure out how the laundry in the basement works. You know how the song goes right? Frank sang it: If you can do Laundry here You can do laundry anywhere It’s up to you New York, New York It’s 1:17am on the 11th October and I’m at the airport. Being cheap I’ve booked a flight on Norwegian Air, which, whilst being one of the budget airlines, also has the name of an entire country (and a Nordic one at that) attached to it. This provides me with some sort of security about the idea of getting into a giant flying metal toothpaste tube and hurtling across the atlantic at 1000 miles per hour. It may be unwarranted security, but for some reason (potentially the outrageous price of their beer) I trust the Norwegians. ’m on my way to New York City. The land of Broadway and 42nd Street, the city of bagels and pizza, the town of Billy Joel, Frank Sinatra and Liza Minelli. I’m on my way there because five years ago in a tiny pub called ‘The Rusty Bicycle’ in Oxford my (then) new friend Rhys Jennings told me about a short story he had found on the internet. He wasn’t sure what it was, but he thought it could be a musical… That story was called The Wicker Husband and it’s taken me on one hell of a journey over the last five years. One that I could never have anticipated. We (Rhys Jennings, Charlie Westenra and I) are going to the big apple because The Wicker Husband was one of eight shows selected to be presented at the 30th Annual NAMT Showcase. For those of you who don’t know much about NAMT (I was one of them not so long ago), it’s essentially a two day showcase where over 200 industry producers from all across the USA converge at New World Stages in New York to watch 45 minute showcases of these eight shows. Our show was fortunate enough to have been selected from 223 submitted musicals, all of which had to be nominated either by an alumnus or a member organisation in order to be considered. We were very fortunate in that George Stiles & Anthony Drewe are alumni of the festival and as such had the right to nominate a show for submission. Despite my disparaging comments regarding George’s tennis playing during our writing retreat, they found it in their hearts to nominate The Wicker Husband for consideration. As a direct result of the incredible mentorship year, during which, whip in hand, George and Ants had forced us to finish the show, we had a finished script of our musical. We also, thanks to the foresight of several smart people, had a sound desk recording of the entire show. Both of which were required to be considered for NAMT. We applied back in March 2018. But the brilliance that was BEAM 2018 was happening and we and the writing community had other things on our minds. Such as snow. Lots of it. Also, Rhys and I had begun bashing away at our next show, a biopic musical about WWII codebreaker Alan Turing. Then, shortly after BEAM, I was fortunate enough to spend several weeks in Stratford-Upon-Avon, hanging out with the swans and writing a new political musical for the RSC. At some point down the line, I forgot that we had applied to NAMT. Then in June, out of the blue, we found out we were down to the last 20. Then shortly after that we learned that The Wicker Husband had been selected for the showcase and we would be headed to New York in October. I remember my response at the time being something along the lines of ‘Hmm. Well, that’s nice isn’t it.’ I didn’t quite comprehend what it was that we were doing. Then I learnt about some of the shows that had gotten their start at NAMT, titles like Come From Away, Thoroughly Modern Millie, The Drowsy Chaperone and Ordinary Days. Then I started to shit myself. Soon enough, however, the almighty machine that is NAMT whirred itself into motion and we were too busy to think about shitting ourselves. Deadlines were supplied. Schedules sent out. Things had to be signed and sealed. A 45 minute cut had to be finalised, orchestrations had to be scored out, a musical director had to be found and a cast had to be arranged, new demos had to be prepared, recorded and supplied. All of this whilst trying to make a living. Needless to say, things have been rather busy over the last few months. If I’m completely honest I can’t remember half of what has happened. But one of the great things about events like BEAM and NAMT is that they make you do things that otherwise you would most likely just procrastinate about. In our case, they made me take another look at several of the songs, in which some lyric, melodic and arrangement changes were made. They made us take another look at the script, where some strong cuts were made. They made us get some West End superstars together in a room to sing and record some of the songs (more to come on that later!). In short, we made lots of stuff happen in a very short amount of time. Simply because we had to. I think it was Leonard Bernstein who said that what you needed to make art was an idea and not enough time (or something far more eloquent). The upshot of all this chaos, is that we got it done. The orchestrations for NAMT are done, the demos recorded, the cuts made, the cast is almost set and we are extremely excited that it includes several leading lights of Broadway. So now what? I just got off the phone with a friend of mine who said something along the lines of, “I know you’re not very good at this part Darren, but you’ve done the work, now you get to sit back and enjoy it all.” She’s absolutely right. I’m not good at this part. I’m happiest when I’m busy and working. I feel uneasy, trepidatious. I’m not nervous, but I feel a bit like I’m underwater, like there’s a film covering everything. I don’t quite know what’s going on, what we are heading towards or where we are going. I’m excited and grateful that we will have a support crew from MMD and MTN, as well as Stiles & Drewe out in NYC, along with other mentors to help us all navigate the experience. But still, I have absolutely no idea what to expect. Over the next few weeks I hope to blog fairly regularly about my experience of NAMT, to learn a bit about how the Americans make new musicals and to bring a bit of it back to the UK. Also, I plan on eating hot dogs. Lots of them. |
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