Tim McArthur: On Sondheim And Students

"Pack up the luggage, la la la..!"

So here I am sat in a classroom at the University of Cumbria in the relatively small city of Carlisle, close to Hadrian's Wall, about to embark on a new theatrical journey - I have seven weeks to direct the genius that is Stephen Sondheim's "A Little Night Music" with nineteen 21-year-olds. Oh, the innocence of youth!

I have never directed or taught at a university before, or even at a drama school, so the challenge is on. The students are all very keen, eager, fresh and energetic. I slightly feel and hope as I grasp my marker pen for the whiteboard that I don't turn into a bitter vampire, draining them of all their blood and talent, as at some performing arts institutions that we know but that shall remain nameless!

The second day, we decide to do a series of auditions, as we do not know the students' abilities and talent. This proves to be quite scary and daunting for some of the students. Little do they realize that actually, deep down beneath all my body hair, I am actually nervous as well. I ask myself: what makes a good teacher or director or lecturer?

The first week we keep the kids on their toes with surprises in the structure of the working week. Our brief is to treat them as professionals as best we can and give them a taste of what the industry is like in both attitude and structure. Because there are 19 of them and it is their final show and they are being marked on all aspects of the process from performing to rehearsals, movement, written essays, and so on, we have to double-cast the show. This proves to be an interesting procedure as the musical director and I really struggled as to whom we are going to put in the wheelchair and play the old bag Madame Armfeldt. However, by the end of Friday afternoon the cast list is displayed on the noticeboard. Very Fame-esque, darhlings!

At this point, the MD and I dash to the pub. We're followed, 20 minutes later, by what appears to be a satisfied bunch of students all content and ready to go with the challenge of Sondheim and buying their director a large rosé wine - which however did not come out of a bottle but a tap - that's up north for you.

Week 2 comes and goes, then Weeks 3 and 4, and Act 1 is finally blocked. By Week 5, the whole show is finally blocked, just in time for Easter. Over this time, the UK is experiencing the coldest March in half a century, with snow showers and drifting snow, especially in Cumbria... but not in Carlisle. Carlisle has its own micro-climate, it turns out, and I've probably enjoyed more sunshine here than anywhere else in England. Weird, I know...

When you're away from home working, whether it be in one place for a number of weeks or months or whether you are on the road in a different place each week for six months as a creative, somehow we also fall into a routine wherever we are. Carlisle is no exception to the rule! Five trips to Gala Bingo, didn't win anything. Yes, I know, Mum, it's not the winning, it's the taking part! Tell that to the lady with nine tattoos and an eye-patch on Table 34. Oh, and then there is the local gay-friendly bar OUTRageous - many a night in there playing pool
(very butch), gin and tonics £1! I know, everyone run there now, and more importantly rideon the merry-go-round horse in the corner! No, that's not a euphemism!

As I travel back to London the day before Good Friday and choo choo my way through snowy Britain all I could think of is the hit Christmas song "I'll be home for... Easter...."!

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