An Musical Evening in Two Parts

In which The Author goes to the theatre again

On Saturday, having made surprisingly good progress with my latest proofreading job – which had spent four days in the capable (?) hands of Royal Mail during the week – I decided to have a couple of hours away from my desk. The youth section of the Colstars were giving their annual charity fund-raiser at the Coliseum in Trecynon. As I was so impressed with the whole company when they did Jesus Christ Superstar a few weeks ago, I figured I could spend the evening there and contribute to a worthy cause as well. It was a win-win situation.

I got there about ten minutes before curtain-up, in time to hear the band tuning up in the orchestra pit. (I don't know anything about the musicians, as they're not named in either of the recent programmes, but they all play to a very high standard.) I was sitting downstairs, so I don't know how many people were in the circle. By the time the show started, the stalls were only about half full. It was a fairly decent evening weather-wise, though. I expect a lot of the potential audience would have headed for the coast to take advantage of the break in the cloud.

The compere for the evening was a young man named Jordan Smart, a founder member of the youth section. Since graduating from the Arden School of Theatre, Manchester, Jordan's gone on to carve out a successful musical career, singing with Only Boys Aloud and performing in some of the UK's biggest venues. Two other Colstars alumni had come back for the evening. Richard Lee Thomas is a singing teacher from Resolven. Lee played Pilate in their recent production, so I already knew he could deliver the goods. The third guest singer was Rebecca Southmore, who's toured the country since leaving the Liverpool Institute of Performing Arts. That gives you some idea of the sort of talent the youth wing has nurtured over the years.

I'd expected a full-on show, but what I was treated to was a non-stop turnover of songs from the shows, and some (reasonably) modern pop numbers, delivered mainly by the kids dressed in plain t-shirts and jeans. The Coliseum stage doesn't really allow for elaborate dance routines with a large company, but the youngsters did their best with the available space. The guest slots were interspersed throughout, and two energetic sets covered the whole range of shows from Porgy and Bess to The Book of Mormon. Derek Williams, the company's mainstay since the early days, director, and a fine singer in his own right, also appeared to add his rich bass voice to the proceedings.

There was a nice little comic touch in the first half, too, when two little girls charged the stage and asked Jordan how they could join the Colstars. Jordan said he wasn't sure, so he'd ask one of the cast. After one young lad demonstrated the range of skills they'd be expected to develop, the girls decided he was 'bonkers' and walked off in disgust, to a huge round of applause.

I must admit that I'm not au fait with the current crop of musicals, and I felt that the printed programme could have benefited from a running order. I only worked out that one song is from The Book of Mormon from the context; for a lot of the others, unfortunately, I was in the dark.

My pal Iwan Davies came on in the second half, wearing a cagoule and looking very nervous. It was only after a minute or so that I realised he was doing a short piece from The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time, based on Mark Haddon's extraordinary book about a young lad with Asperger syndrome.

After Iwan's monologue, Derek appeared from the wings and made the announcement that I trailed here a few weeks ago: Iwan will be leaving the Colstars before long to take up a place at RADA. As a result, they've awarded him their annual bursary. (It also means I've got someone else to go for a pint with when I'm in London.)

I said it was an evening in two parts, didn't I? Well, Part Two got underway immediately after the show finished, in the Harlequins Bowls Club directly behind the theatre.

I wanted to have a chat with Derek, following up on an email I'd sent him after Jesus Christ Superstar. I'd had a look at their website, and it didn't seem to have been updated for about two years. While I was at the bar my friend Deb J. came in, so I explained that I was interested in helping them out with the cyber side of things. As we both said, if you look at a website and it hasn't been touched for a good while, you tend to assume the business (or whatever) has called it a day. I know that I'm nowhere near good enough to be chorus material, but I can certainly offer them Tech Support with their internet presence. Deb also suggested that I could help them with their publicity materials, as we'd both picked up a number of typos in the programme. Getting involved without getting in front of an audience works for me at this stage (no pun intended).

Iwan came in while we were chatting at the bar, so I congratulated him on his good fortune and his unexpected windfall.

'That should cover your first week's rent, anyway,' I told him.

Deb invited me to join the rest of the table, and the night degenerated into a fairly decadent session, which only ended quite some time after the bar closed at 1.00 a.m. One of the girls was celebrating her birthday, and everybody got progressively smaller slices of cake as the numbers kept increasing.

By now the bizarre afterparty had split into two distinct camps – the older drinkers at one end of the room, and the youngsters at the other. I went to chat to Iwan and his pals while we decided on what music to stack up on the jukebox. One of the other lads introduced himself as Damon, and it turns out I've known his father for many years. Small world, isn't it?

It didn't take long for the conversation at our table to veer firmly into adult territory. At one point, my friend Dai and his wife decided to tell us about a very embarrassing and painful condition he developed a couple of years ago. Having described it in graphic detail, Dai had come up with some unintentional comedy gold.

I shouted down to the youngsters, 'Here's a name for a Thrash Metal band – Massive Bollock Disease!'

Watch this space, as Damon thought it was a brilliant suggestion.

After introducing the kids to the joys of 'Paperback Writer' (dedicated to the authors I've worked with recently, of course), I just said, 'This is the weirdest fucking afterparty I've ever been to.' Cue laughter all round.

Sitting down in a convivial post-show atmosphere, with some old friends and some new friends, was just the ticket after a hard day immersed in the cyberspace world of William Gibson. It was also miles better than just sitting at home on a Saturday night, and arguably a vast improvement on Thereisnospoon, the only guaranteed late night alternative.

In between the beer and shenanigans, I managed to grab five minutes with Derek and offer him my Tech Support and Content Management services. I gave him my phone number, and he's promised to ring me after everyone comes back from their holidays.

I think I've also persuaded some of the older youngsters (if you know what I mean) to come to Thursday karaoke and show everyone how it's really done. It's Deb's birthday next week, so I told her to rope some people in and strut their stuff in the Lighthouse. I already know one song which Lee and my karaoke pal Chazza could absolutely smash. In fact, I think Chazza would enjoy the Colstars. She's certainly got the voice for it, and it might do her good to get out and meet some new people. I'll suggest it when I see her next.

I might never pluck up the courage to join the Colstars for real. Maybe five years from now they'll decide to do a show I know and love (My Fair Lady, for example), in which case I might throw my hat into the audition ring. But I'll certainly be supporting them in any way I can, even if it starts with just putting a poster in my window and grows from there. Having seen such a wealth of local talent on stage in the past couple of months, it would be rude not to, really.