I didn’t think I’d be going to ‘The Chimes’ as on the 14th September, the culmination of weeks of training. I run out to play a competitive rugby match as a hooker. Trained hard to the point of nausea and exhaustion for this, our reward. The purpose, though, of the course was in what we had done the previous day, that is, we attended a jobs fair with a view to getting back on the ladder of employment.The match wasn’t as competitive as we had hoped but nevertheless we had fun and I have developed, confidence as well as becoming a team player, as a team we attended the jobs fair and as a team, we stood and lost together, but the fight never ceased as we still attacked when we could and defended as resolutely as possible ultimately leading to a fantastic try and a high note to finish on.
Why then mention a rugby match in reference to treading the boards in an adaption of Charles Dickens 2nd Christmas story, The Chimes? Well, the offer of the chance to try my hand at the theatre was given and had a start date of 7th September. As I couldn’t and wouldn’t miss the game, an attitude which may seem wonderfully stoic and perhaps even admirable but it cost me a concussion when I remained on the field despite a knock to the head which was harder than I ever let on. I asked if I could come along the week following the game, thankfully the director Judith said yes, so in The Wallich on Cathedral Road, two hours early, the ever so forgetful and still concussed thespian hooker started another chapter.
After a walk I sat waiting to see what the next 12 weeks had in store, no one could have anticipated what came. The workshops started with body & vocal warm-up relaxation exercises. I didn’t realise then but so began a very steep and intense learning curve, I was learning without even realising it. The workshops ensured we came on apace yet still considerate of our inexperience. The warm-ups were a regular feature as was the exercise of repeating chunks of text. Something, I am thankful for today as I am utilising the method to learn something currently.
What began as one line, repeated a number of times,
“The door to Scrooges’ counting-house was open” became, eventually, the following.
“The door to Scrooges’ counting-house was open, that he could keep his eye upon his clerk. Who, in a dismal little room beyond. A sort of tank was copying letters. Scrooge had a very small fire, but the clerk's fire was so very much smaller, that it looked like one coal. But he couldn't replenish it, for Scrooge kept the coal-box in his own room; and so surely as the clerk came in with the shovel, the master predicted that it would be necessary for them to part. Wherefore the clerk put on his white comforter, and tried to warm himself at the candle; in which effort, not being a man of a strong imagination, he failed.”
That felt like an achievement in and of itself and with the odd exception I remembered it almost verbatim, today three months hence.
Workshops continued as we moved from Cathedral Road to Chapter Arts Centre, rehearsal rooms, where everything continues apace, sadly, however, I got taken out by depression in a very rapid and almost fatal descent into a desperately emotional mental pit. Somehow, despite this, I managed to keep going to rehearsals, everything else fell away, Rugby, gym, music and family, I became reclusive and suicidal all enjoyment now gone, I could think only of suicide, Somehow I kept it up, battling my way out of the flat and on to Chapter, Judith was shocked as was everyone for that matter at the change wrought in just a week. The weight fell off as I didn’t eat. for days at a time.
In the depression I scrambled to grasp something that reminded me of who I was previously, for example, I associated one staff member from the Wallich with the rugby, so I tried to initiate a conversation to see if I could find a way back from the hell I was in. It probably came off as odd but I wanted to die most of the time and I was desperate for help. The fact they had appeared friendly meant I had something to focus on, I eventually got help though and was given medication.
The depression kept me locked away most of the time and anxiety would great any thoughts of leaving. The battles I went through somedays to get to rehearsals were epic, but I think only twice did I not make it. It took it’s toll though, one day in rehearsals now in st johns church I rounded on the director after being accused of not being on the ball and I needed to wake up, what she couldn’t know of course was the previous night I had been sat writing a note and was ready to end it all, somehow though thoughts of suicide were defeated by thoughts of the team I was now working with. I, as the sharper minded amongst you, can probably tell didn’t go through with it. All the work, all the battles to get out of the house and the wars of attrition, fought against my own mind, out to destroy me, won.
I stand, with my new team, ready to walk, not run out, on to a stage, not a rugby pitch and the anxiety builds such that a game against the All Blacks seemed preferable.
“You can go,”
Off onto the stage, all nerves dissipating. We continue over the week every night the same, until Saturday night, final show. I realise on the five-minute call, no anxiety, the energy coursing through me that was so destructive was now, excitement. I remained relaxed and enjoyed myself on stage that night more than any other by a long way. Then to black, I sighed as I knew that was it. All over no more working with those fantastic people it had become my pleasure to stand alongside as an equal.
From both the School of Hard Knocks and The Chimes I gained confidence and self-belief, they both changed me the latter into an actor and singer in which I will be turning professional. As such although not in the way envisaged the former fulfilled its main purpose, to prepare people for employment, without the confidence instilled on the rugby pitch I wouldn't have dared try to act. So thanks to both I now stand on the brink of a new career, thanks to the Wallich I will be working in a field I only ever dreamt of.
Thank you to all who played a part in this, very difficult but rewarding time. Especially Emma who checked on me daily to see if I was alive and to check if I had eaten. To Ozzy who became a friend over the course of this production and even to sue who due to being ‘competetive’ apparently was not playing skittles to lose, she nearly got Mo fired. I settled on petulant disbelief and protestations to father though. Also thanks to Vanessa for putting me forward for the school of hard knocks, Jamie who camera in hand captured great memories of the process even if my shiny head was a thing of great amusement. I entered the Wallich homeless it is looking likely I will leave when the time comes, a professional actor, now I imagine that is something of a turnaround.
Thanks go out to The staff at the Wallich, School of hard knocks and production team cast and crew at the chimes