Beast

The last week has been fairly hectic, what with my daughter performing in the school musical every day (and twice on Saturday), necessitating a lot of ferrying to and fro. She did not get to play either Beauty or the Beast, but rather a chirpy villager and a dancing salt cellar. But she played both roles with great feeling and a certain gritty realism (particularly the dancing salt cellar; you have to put a lot into being half of a condiment set to make it look convincing). It was a proud moment to see her on stage, and brought back memories of my own efforts when I was young. I remember spending most of my theatrical career in the chorus (a result of my inability to sing), usually as one of Sir Joseph's sisters, cousins or aunts. (But don't ask me which, specifically; I'm not sure I even knew back then, but presumably did my best to represent a sort of generic female relative. The details don't really matter. Versatility is important on the stage.) But it is a unique experience: the months of rehearsal, seeing the disparate elements slowing coming together; the magic of being backstage, watching the stagehands scurrying around while awaiting your entrance; friendships forged. Ordinary life seems rather grey in comparison.