BREAK A LEG

And just like that, after all these months, the panto I’m accompanying hit its dress rehearsal tonight.

I made lots of mistakes - some obvious, some not, but mistakes regardless.

“Enjoying it?” asked Lindsay, scooping up her glasses from the edge of the piano in the interval. She’d left them there while being a mermaid.

“This end of the rehearsing’s alright!” I said, looking over at the stage, the lights, and the glittery props. The chaos bit through November and December, perhaps not so much, but now when it all comes together, the buzz of the performance (tomorrow and the next day), and the thrill of the stage itself, is an unshakeable joy.

And if I don’t mess it up, it’ll be even better, I hope.

“Oh it’s always a good sign if the dress rehearsal has its hiccups,” said one of the directors, almost with a knowing wink. I did wonder whether that might be one of those old theatre superstitions, but then she added, “Good luck, oh, and break a leg!” so I’m not totally sure.

She does have a point though - there’s a sharpness that can come from the last and fullest run-through, that spills over into the performance itself. I know this from bands - though I tend to only ever play one gig at a time. Similarly, an excellent practice can lead to overconfidence. No-one wants that to happen either. At least with the pantomime we have three goes at the thing. And anyway... it’s a pantomime! No-one will be in the least bothered if the stage falls over, we all forget our lines and I fumble the piano! In fact, in many ways that might even make it funnier.

And then it’ll be all over. And that will be weird for a while. Ah well.

“Enjoy it, anyway!” said the director, recovering from her good-luck-and-break-a-leg combo. Actually, I thought, that might just be the best bit of direction yet.