Rave reviews for Joseph production
The following is a review written by Jane Bathard-Smith, a current parent of St Andrew’s with children in the Junior and Middle Departments.
I’ve been to a lot of school productions. In sixteen years of teaching and with three children of my own, my word I’ve been to a lot of school productions. I’ll admit that I’ve been guilty of getting a little ‘school-production weary’. Until this year. If one thing has blasted me out of a school-production-weariness it’s been the productions put on by St. Andrew’s since September. And with a final blast as if to confirm (with a defiant thump of a fist) that this is something we do damnably well: this term’s end of year show, Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat has left us all in awe of what children are capable of when given opportunities like this one, under the direction of people like these.
A pretty bold move to tackle this quintessential British classic. Most children know it inside out; many parents might have been in it themselves. Poor Mrs Wicks and Mrs Veitch will possibly have it etched into their brains throughout the summer. These are songs we all know.
So first, one question: how did they make this show seem as fresh as if it was its first airing?
What made this show special was not the deft professionalism of the band. It wasn’t the slickness of the stage direction or the cleverly crafted set. It wasn’t the cacophony of the colourful costuming. And it wasn’t the pure-toned voices of every single one of the children. It wasn’t the outstandingly crisp (and smile-laden) choreography.
Then what was it?
Of course it was all of these things, and more besides. But from where I was sitting (way back at the back) what hurled itself out louder than anything else was the unalloyed enjoyment radiating out of every child every moment that they were on the stage. These children knew they were in the midst of something special. They knew what a great show they and their teachers had worked so hard to produce. They knew that (as well as scarlet and black and ochre and peach and ruby and olive and violet and fawn and lilac and gold and chocolate and mauve and cream and crimson and silver and rose and azure and lemon and russet and grey and purple and white and pink and orange and blue) they had gold in their hands. They’d made it their own. And they were proud of it. Rightly so. Their inherent professionalism (astonishing for a troupe so young) ensured that they were touched neither by complacency nor arrogance. Roles were sustained entirely – no shrewd grins or grimaces were exchanged; there was no eye-contact on stage that was not character-to-character. Those children from Years 7 and 8 were not there – they were absolutely the roles they’d adopted. They lived that show from start to finish.
Just one other thing struck me. Out of a cast of over thirty, while some children inevitably had fewer lines or less stage-time, there was a profound sense of equality. Every member of that chorus shone just as brightly as the named roles, and they pulled the audience’s attention just as determinedly.
In sum [and cue today’s ear-worm – with apologies] Never… in my whole career… have I encountered this before: a school production in which every child shone. Every child shimmied, smiled and actually acted their way through the show, from beginning to end without pause. Mrs Veitch’s question to Mrs Wicks in the programme will be echoed by us all… What are you going to do next year?
