Being Mrs. Johnstone

I never actually thought I'd relate to motherhood until I got myself involved with the Workshop Players' production of 'Blood Brothers' this year.

As mentioned in my previous post, the show's doing quite well, and we're all enjoying watching grown men cry in the audience during the finale. :)

When Jerome first gave me the soundtrack of the original production, I have to admit I kinda sorta hated it. I couldn't really see the point of half the music, because until then I'd been brought up on the conviction that a musical entails much flair, pomp and pagentry in terms of orchestration. This one sounded more like a pop-ish jazz to me. But then I started listening to the actual lyrics and it all made sense. Before too long I was in love... with the music, the story, and most of all, with the idea of being a part of it.

I was lucky enough to be selected to play Mrs. Johnstone on some nights, and it is a role that I relish. It has been the most challenging one I've taken up thus far, both musically as well as in character. I've battled with a million personal concerns since the day we began rehearsals. What did I know about being a 52-year old mother? What personal experiences could I tap into, to relate to this role? How on earth did Jerome expect me to do justice to the mammoth amount of singing this woman had, when I have the voice of a christmas turkey? And what about that semi -Irish/ Liverpool accent eh?

And that wasn't all.... I had four grown men - Mario, Ruveen, Jithendra and Eraj- each twice my size in height (and sometimes width), playing my CHILDREN. Two of these fellas I've slapped and battled with many a time and played love interests with. Now I was supposed to convincingly look upon them as my babies? Absurd.

And so began my journey. In four months, with the help of the Workshop Players and theatrical genius that is Jerome de Silva, I was to transform myself from a child-disliking, socialite, career-oriented, over-dramatic diva into a lonely and long-suffering Liverpuddlian mother of nine... who could sing for three hours without boring or breaking eardrums. Yeesch.

The ageing came easy enough. Most of the cast is younger than I, and I could do the whole 'I am your revered elder' thing quite well. The motherly affection, however, was more of an uphill task. After failing miserably at every attempt to look and feel like I loved my babies, I resorted to imagining them as puppies and kittens, which immediately helped with the emoting. Mario became a rottweiler pup, Ruveen a bulldog, Jith a Jack Russell terrier and Eraj a Spaniel. It worked. (I suspect that should any of the guys read this blog, I'm probably never gonna hear from them again) At this risk of insulting them, I started to feel the maternal affection that was thus far alien to me.

Then came the singing. Thank god for my alter-Johnstone-ego Dilrukshi, who helped immensely with advice on techniques and giving me competitive motivation. The weekly singing rehearsals went a long way too, as did the hours of solo sing-a-longs in my car. I'm quite pleased to state that I am now able to hit some of those notes that I hadn't thought I was capable of before. I'm still nowhere close to Dil's jaw-dropping renditions though... nor can I come close to the fabulous accent she puts on at the drop of a hat. Mine keeps slipping now and then, but I've managed to maintain it for a good part of the show, and not sound like I've got a speech defect.

And finally came the fitness and energy required for this role. You'd be surprised to note that, although Mrs. Johnstone does almost nothing physically on stage as opposed to the rest of the cast, it is by far the most energetically demanding thing I've done in my stage career. Nothing's ever drained me as much as all this emotional hooh hah has. Just the final song alone takes so much out of me, that I'm ready to collapse by the end of it. Each scene we do is so intense, and I find myself stepping back from reality and actually feeling all that emotion instead of just acting it, that by the end of it all, I can hardly stand. I guess it means I'm doing it right.

And that's what being Mrs. Johnstone in this production has been all about for me. Over the months, the cast has actually become my family, and working with them on stage has been nothing short of a fantasy. The four boys are never going to looked as anything other than my children ever again, and I've started to like my hair being white.

I have this strange conviction that it's gonna be mighty difficult to get her out of my system now....

Photographs courtesy of Shehal