Following a successful week's run at our local community assembly rooms, we were lucky enough to be invited to take our production to Malta; to the Manoel Theatre in Valletta. This beautiful theatre usually houses professional opera and dance companies and orchestras, so we were thrilled to have the chance to perform there.
Naively, we hadn't realised that we were going to be performing on the weekend of one of the most important elections in Maltese history, nor did we realise the passions involved in the politics – until we got there, that is. For a contingent of British people who were quite used to laid back political voting, and low turnout at elections, the rallying and 96% turnout were a revelation; not to mention the fact that once the result was announced there were cavalcades of trucks and lorries banging dustbin lids and firing rockets into the air that went on all night. A public holiday was announced, and suddenly our two performances were reduced to one because the orchestra (the house orchestra of the theatre) were not going to work on a public holiday. OK, we thought, we'll cram as many people into the theatre for our one performance as possible, and therefore announcements were made on the local radio and the news that anyone wanting to see us had only this one chance.
There were many things that we had not considered in advance, it had all sounded so easy...
We were a large group of families and singles, all booked into the same accommodation (a hotel for the first few days, and then an ex-army sergeant's mess, I believe) which was great, we would all be enjoying a holiday and topping it off with a fantastic performance at the end of the week.
Except that our plans for scenery that had been sent ahead, and we expected to be done when we arrived, had not translated into action by our hosts in Malta. They hadn't understood how to turn our drawings into scenery, but had happily answered “No problem” to every request. So all able bodied men and women were roped in to paint scenery for the first few days, and to rummage through the theatre's props department for anything that would help to create the atmosphere of Folkestone in 1912. A promenade telescope? A white railing fence? The theatre basement was an Aladdin's cave, but mainly of things none of us recognised.
With the help of MADC (Malta Amateur Dramatics Club) we managed to find enough props, and to paint some flats. We had brought our costumes with us in our normal luggage, but had also flown in some back cloths. These were discovered to be being held at customs, and were only released on payment of a bond, on the understanding that we were not bringing them in to sell at a profit. We finally got them a day before we were due to perform. You can imagine the scenes of our director and stage manager tearing their hair out.
Still, we had a fabulous time, spending glorious days at the beach, or exploring the beautiful islands of Malta and Gozo. Those of us with young children hired cars and shared the babysitting so that we could all enjoy a proper holiday. One of the highlights was our visit to the “Popeye” village... Sweethaven was the film set built for the live action film of Popeye starring Robin Williams, and is still there as a tourist attraction.
We rehearsed in the foyer of the theatre, which is all marble staircase and statues, and it felt as though we could have been in a Degas painting of a rehearsal. Our dressing rooms had windows that opened out over the street, with tiny wrought iron balconies, and were miles away from the stage. So we had to re-time our quick changes and entrances to allow for rickety staircases and mazes of corridors.
We also had to pack our costumes as we took them off, and rush to carry everything to the bus which we had hired to take us back to our residence, because the bus driver wasn't going to work after midnight, and we had to meet him at the bottom of a run of steps.(Valletta is pedestrian friendly. The streets being so narrow it is impossible to drive through them, so motor vehicles are banned. And it is set on a high promontory, so the only way to move around is up and down steep sets of steps) So at the end of the performance everyone was loaded up and sent as quickly as possible to relay everything we had brought, including rolled cloths that were huge. Running up and down stairs in the dark!
The after show party back at our residence was raucous and adrenaline fuelled, everyone had a tale to tell, and we all needed to let off steam. Some of our older more staid members had never been seen to be so “tired and emotional”.
Despite all our difficulties in getting on stage we were incredibly proud to have been invited, and to play to a full house in this glorious old theatre. It was an experience I wouldn't swap for anything, and the memories are flooding back as I write.
Amateur drama has given me so much to enjoy and share, I would recommend it as a hobby (lifestyle choice; obsession) to anyone.
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