The Mikado: The Characters

Yes, The Mikado has been over for a week and it's time to let it go and start concentrating on our next show: Calamity Jane. Yet I don't quite feel able to say goodbye to what has been the highlight of my singing career (if you like to call it that.) So I thought I would introduce you to the characters, as I know them.

First off is Ko-Ko, the Lord High Executioner of Titipu. Formerly, he was the town's tailor, until he found himself imprisoned and sentenced to death for flirting, and then raised to the position of Lord High Executioner. Our Ko-Ko was a somewhat ridiculous figure. His entrance is built up by the men's chorus singing "Defer to the Lord High Executioner," and then on struts this little, bumbling chap who has to jump up and down to be seen behind the noblemen of Titipu. He is inclined to get over-excited or carried away, finding himself falling from one mishap to another.

Next is Nanki-Poo, wandering minstrel, heir to the throne of Japan and Ko-Ko's rival in Yum-Yum's affections. To be honest, Nanki-Poo is a character I don't feel I know too well due to lack of an actor for many rehearsals. He is a young man, though it seems that the life of a musician has taken its toll on him for he looks more like the Mikado's younger brother than his son. He has a knack of getting his own way, though whether that is by design or accident is not clear. I would be inclined to say Nanki-Poo is a manipulative, somewhat spoilt young prince, who knows that Ko-Ko would give up his betrothed rather than see Nanki-Poo end his life.

If Ko-Ko is Lord High Executioner, Pooh-Bah is Lord High Everything Else: a pompous, hypocritical contradiction of a man. He, too, is well versed in getting what he wants, in this case by treating those things as a penance for his "family pride" - ie, taking every important role in the town - and their salaries - giving information in return for "insulting" bribes. Pooh-Bah takes his duties, position and ancestry very seriously indeed - perhaps just as well, for no one else, excepting perhaps Ko-Ko, does.

Pish-Tush is another nobleman of Titipu, one more understated in his manner than Pooh-Bah. Where Pooh-Bah asserts his position and authority at every opportunity, Pish-Tush assumes it, without the need to shout from the rooftops.

Yum-Yum is the eldest and most beautiful of Ko-Ko's wards, and is pledged to marry him, probably because she is just too sweet-tempered to refuse. She has been pampered and perhaps a little spoilt - she is very aware of her good looks and their power, but not in a bratty sort of way. She is devoted to Nanki-Poo, and yet Yum-Yum is no doormat. She loves Nanki-Poo, but at the end of the day, she loves Yum-Yum even more. When she has to choose between her fiance and her life, she chooses life, because, after all, "Burial alive - it's such a stuffy death." Luckily, however, it doesn't come to that.

Pitti-Sing, otherwise known as me, seems to be the eldest sister, certainly the most dominant. She knows the conventions of what a young unmarried Japanese girl should be and do, and acts the part very well. But underneath, if circumstances call for it, Pitti-Sing is a bold, mouthy and flirtatious girl, very much a modern woman. It is Pitti-Sing who stands up for her sister and future brother-in-law against the terrifying Katisha, disregarding Katisha's threats and sneering at her: "The state of your connubial views towards the person you accuse does not concern us!" It is Pitti-Sing who joins in with Ko-Ko and Pooh-Bah in their tales of Nanki-Pooh's execution. I can imagine her overhearing Ko-Ko begging Pooh-Bah to go along with his story, and deciding it sounds a bit of a lark and that if she were to back them up the Mikado might be more likely to believe a woman - especially a beautiful one.

Poor Peep-Bo seems to have been largely neglected by Gilbert, apparently put into the show to be a third voice in the harmonies where necessary. She is quieter than her sisters, but, like them, is not all sweetness and light. She has a catty tongue on her. I wonder if she is jealous of Yum-Yum getting all the attention? She ruins Yum-Yum's wedding day by reminding her that her married bliss will be imperfect and won't last long. She even seems to enjoy the discomfort she causes her sister, making comments about happiness being "cut short" and that its ending might "take the top off things" for Nanki-Poo, which she says so sweetly and innocently. I think it a shame that there wasn't space in the show to develop Peep-Bo's character any more, but her few words say a lot.

The Mikado himself has apparently been portrayed as a villain or a comic character, but our Mikado was neither of these. He was terrifying, admittedly - the chorus are rather alarmed by his laughter in "the punishment fits the crime," but our Mikado was played straight-faced. The great thing about Gilbert and Sullivan is that no one bats an eyelid about the extreme punishment - decapitation - for "the youth who winked a roving eye or breathed a non-connubial sigh." The Mikado is very much like this. He doesn't let his personal feelings get in the way of the law, harbouring no ill-feelings to those who have (allegedly) executed his son, and is sorry to have to sentence them to death, but the law is the law and there's no altering that. I believe the Mikado has a shrewd mind and is well aware that Ko-Ko's snickersnee has been nowhere near Nanki-Poo's cervical vertibrae - he just wants to make Ko-Ko et al sweat a bit.

And finally, Katisha. Dear old Katisha. She is a ghastly old cat who has sunk her claws into Nanki-Poo, and by combination of her impressive manner, terrifying make-up and gloriously swishy outfit (think Phantom of the Opera cloak built into a kimono,) terrifies everything. She is very full of her own importance - the Mikado may be Emperor of Japan, but she's Katisha, his Daughter-In-Law Elect. She's got the Mikado wrapped around her little finger - or believes she has, at any rate; I think the Mikado allows her to think so for the sake of a little peace and quiet - and has been desperately trying to weave Nanki-Poo into the mix as well. She has an unexpected soft spot, however, when it comes to suicidal dickie-birds, the tale of which causes her to set her sights on the Lord High Executioner of Titipu, in the absence of Heirs Apparent to the throne of Japan. Needless to say, she's most displeased to discover that that cheeky young upstart of a Yum-Yum has snatched the title of Future Empress of Japan from under her nose. I can't imagine life in the Ko-Ko-Katisha household will be boring, if nothing else!

The Isle of Wight County Press has published its review of The Mikado, which can be found at http://www.iwcp.co.uk/news/a-little-list-of-show-successes-24846.aspx I really can't complain about what the journalist had to say about it, though the way it was written leaves much to be desired. Like the review for Oliver! the bulk of the piece is a little list of who played which character, and a different synonym for "they were good" each time. Nevertheless, there was a definite sense that Ms Young, the writer, was impressed and enjoyed the performance, even if she could do with a few lessons in critiquing theatrical performances.

There are also some photos available on the site at http://www.iwcpgallery.co.uk/ under the highly original heading of Mikado - Solent G&S. None of me, much to my disgust. I will put up some more pictures shortly - when Pitti-1 gives me a copy of the photos she took. She's a better photographer than I am, with a better camera, so I didn't take many of my own.

The Mikado Diaries volume 7

And now... it's all over.

Wednesday was our opening night, and I fussed around the dressing room slightly worried that I wouldn't get my costume and make-up done before we had to go on stage. I needn't have worried. The ladies' chorus don't appear until about half an hour into the show, and I was just putting the finishing touches to my eyebrows when the overture started up. And my, how good it sounded!

The first scenes went, as far as I could tell from the club room, without hitch, and before you could say "snickersnee" I heard Ko-Ko singing his "Little list" song. I flapped around some more, trying to round up the rest of the ladies' chorus to be ready for our cue. I held my breath as Simon indicated for us to start. Well, I didn't. One can't sing while holding one's breath. But I wanted to. We'd been coming in quite well in the last couple of rehearsals, but the ladies' chorus was still a little patchy. And I was concentrating so hard on my singing that I missed a knee-swivel movement. Still, all considered it went well.

The show seemed to go so much quicker than in the rehearsals - possibly because there was no stopping and starting. There were over 100 in the audience, I believe, an unprecidented number for a Solent G and S opening night. And they found it funny. I hadn't been sure whether the audience would notice our second verse of "Miya Sama." (Mitsubishi, Kawasaki, Fuji, Nissan, Toshiba...) but they did and started laughing about two words in. We'd got used to the new words, but when the audience started laughing, it was difficult to keep a straight face.

There was one moment when some of the actors forgot their lines - in Katisha and Ko-Ko's duet, they seemed to completely blank, would attempt a few lines, make it up as they went along, then continued with "rurururururuh" and hoped the audience would interpret it as just bad diction.

Thursday, the audience were fantastic! Probably the best night, audience-wise, though Friday's was bigger. At the end, hearing their cheers and calls for encores. I'd never heard such enthusiasm from an audience, and I was almost moved to tears. Watching the other Pitti-Sing, however, I started to feel a little trepidation. She was nervous, but acting and singing so well! How could I ever hope to follow that up? I think it was this performance that, while singing "The criminal cried," she sidled up to the Mikado and "bumped" him. (The rest of the cast had great fun quoting my description of that event." I was hard pushed not to laugh. That wasn't the first time, either. In the final few seconds of the Act 1 finale, I caught Katisha's eye, and came close to giggles.

If the show wasn't sold out on the Friday, then you would have been able to count the number ofd tickets remaining on one hand. The Isle of Wight County Press had their reporter there, the news of which was leaked beforehand and making some members of the cast quite nervous. That was also the nught when an important prop was forgotten, and for a moment we couldn't see a way to carry on without it.

Ko-Ko: I am honoured in being permitted to welcome your Majesty. I guess the object of your Majesty's visit — your wishes have been attended to. The execution has taken place.
Mikado: Oh, you've had an execution, have you?
Pooh-Bah: The death certificate is off the stage.
Mikado: So you've had an execution, but you can't produce the certificate of his death.
Ko-Ko: Ye-yes.
Mikado: Are you sure you've had an execution?
Ko-Ko: I'll just go and get it.

He scampered offstage, came back with the certificate and handed it back to the Mikado, who, when Ko-Ko bowed down once more, hit him across the back with it. Well rescued, all!

On Saturday came my turn. I went from nervous, to excited, back to nervous again. I went to Judith's at eleven, and met Hannah and Paul from the boat just after twelve. We had baguettes and ice cream, before I made my way to the theatre and got into costume. Pitti-Sing-1 was waiting backstage, watching on the TV screen in the clubroom. I got into costume and watched with increasing nerves on the screen. The first half-hour seemed to go incredibly quickly and in no time at all I was in the wings waiting for the introduction of "Three Little Maids." I became terrified, and fixed a smile onto my face. In a matter of seconds the smile permeated through to the rest of me, and I was pleased to be onstage, playing a Little Maid.

I have a patchy memory of that matinee performance. I vividly remember getting my movement wrong on my second line, and then nothing until sidling up to Pooh-Bah saying, "Excuse me, but what is this? Customer come to try on?" My "Oh! It's alive!" got a laugh, much to my relief. Then, "So please you, sir," then off I went again.

I remember coming onto the stage for the end of Act 1, singing my little part, and then ending up the wrong side after circling Nanki-Poo and Yum-Yum, though I don’t think it mattered too much. I came in on time for that line that both me and Pitti-1 had a bit of trouble with, “A day, a week, a month, a year…” before going back around to Nanki-Poo to sing, “You’ll live at least a honeymoon.” I don’t remember if I tapped him with the fan or not that time. Then, a kind of blankness in my memory until I came to myself shielding Yum-Yum from Katisha and realised, “oh, it’s my big bit very soon!” And then, just like that, Act 1 was over! So quickly!

Act 2 started with my least favourite song, “Braid the Raven Hair.” I think it went OK but I was not sure if I was working with the orchestra. When watching the other Pitti in previous shows it was clear that they were going at her speed, but it was scary to be standing up there taking the lead. I think I avoided going too slow in that song, but did I go too fast? Simon, conductor, said I was watching him perfectly, so I must have been OK, but I was glad when it was over. This was followed with Yum-Yum’s beautiful, gorgeous solo, and then Peep-Bo and I were on again, debating whether Nanki-Poo’s imminent beheading would be a drawback to the perfection of the couple’s married happiness. Then - the Madrigal. That was a very difficult song to learn, with all its harmonies and exactly how the “fa-la-las” go. It’s hard to count “las,” fit them to music and not get distracted by what everyone else was doing, but I think that was the best we had done the Madrigal. I remember that clearly.

Offstage for a while, for “Here’s a how-de-do,” which is absolutely hilarious, the way we did it. The nice thing was, being Pitti, I had a later entrance after that, than the chorus (three more songs before Ko-Ko, Pitti and Pooh-Bah come grovelling before the Mikado. Anyway, “Here’s a how-de-do” was sung through three times, with Ko-Ko doing various actions. First time, he played it straight… ish… for him… until he opened his fan and it fell to pieces. Second run through, he came across the stage in a top hat and jacket… on a mini-scooter! He proceeded to woo Yum-Yum with a bouquet of flowers before opening a very little fan. The third time across was the best part of the whole show. This time Ko-Ko crossed the stage wearing an undertaker’s hat and coat (I think I recognised the hat from Oliver!) carrying a shovel across his shoulder. Then, he reappeared - with a gravestone reading “Yum-Yum, R.I.P.” He set that up, started digging, to which Yum-Yum fell in a swoon in the background and Nanki-Poo had to rush over to tend to her. When it came to opening the fans, this time it was as big as Ko-Ko himself. I loved to watch that part. The first time they did that scene with all the props, I was waiting in the wings, and heard the laughter from the auditiorium, but could not see what was so funny. I didn’t understand why they were singing the song three times when it didn’t seem to be going wrong. I’d have loved to have seen it as the audience did.

And then… we were on again. What I thought of as “the big scene,” the one I most enjoyed, trying to convince the Mikado that we had slain Nanki-Poo, and then, upon hearing that Nanki was his son, trying to wriggle out of all responsibility. I didn’t notice, but when I stood up to sing my verse in “The criminal cried,” my hair-pin fell out. That aside, it went well. I used the other Pitti’s trick of “bumping” the Mikado, before scampering back to the others. I remember frantically whispering with Ko-Ko about how Pooh-Bah was dooming us all to death by his “corroborative detail” about a “nodding head and the deference due to a man of pedigree.” The acting after that, I don’t much remember. When Katisha was talking about the beauty of her left shoulder-blade, Ko-Ko sent me over to examine it. I remember nearly forgetting to say “much obliged, your majesty,” and then, before I'd realised I was off the hook, I was on it once more, sentenced to death by "boiling oil... or melted lead, something humorous, but lingering..." for, though the Mikado was "not a bit angry," the law was the law and it made no allowances:

Mikado: There’s nothing about a mistake…
Ko-Ko, Pitti and Pooh: No!
Mikado: …or not knowing…
Ko-Ko: No.
Mikado: …or having no notion…
Pitti: No.
Mikado: …or not being there…
Pooh: No.
Mikado: I mean, there should be…
Ko-Ko, Pitti and Pooh: (eagerly) Yes!
Mikado: … but there isn’t.
Ko-Ko, Pitti and Pooh: (despairing) Oh!

Then we were in another song, I got to say my “and your snickersnee!” line, and we were onto “The flowers that bloom in the spring (tra-la)” which Pooh-Bah messed up the dance of. I think we concealed it OK though.

At the end, I was quite pleased to hear loud cheers as I came on to do my bow, but wasn’t sure if they were for me or Pooh-Bah, or whether they were from the people who knew me, or others as well. Still, I was pleased, though sorry I wouldn’t be doing that part.

At the end of the final show, on the Saturday night, the principal men went off after the bows, and presented the principal ladies with a bouquet of flowers. I then saw Pooh-Bah, scanning the ladies’ chorus before dragging me out to the front and unceremoniously dumping the flowers on me. I must have looked somewhat bewildered, and I wasn’t sure that the audience weren’t looking at me thinking, “why have they singled out that girl of the chorus for flowers?” Some of them may have read the programme though and put two and two together.

Then, the curtain went across for the final time, and everyone was hugging. Back in the changing rooms, various cast members were exchanging cards and even presents. I had bought a couple of keyrings for the other three little maids, but wasn’t expecting it to be done on such a large scale, and felt quite overwhelmed. After getting changed into civvies, and taking down the dressing room walls (they were corners of the clubroom screened off for privacy, so it wasn’t as drastic as it sounded,) we got down to the most serious business of it all… the after-show party.

The Mikado: Synopsis

I realised that some of my readers might not know the story of the Mikado and that it could be confusing to try to stop and explain the context every other sentence, so here is the synopsis as described by Wikipedia. I've put numbers in brackets referring to the songs at each point, in the absence of footnotes, that I can see, in the blog post.

Act I

Gentlemen of the Japanese town of Titipu are gathered.(1) A wandering musician, Nanki-Poo, enters and introduces himself.(2) He inquires about his beloved, the maiden Yum-Yum, a ward of Ko-Ko (formerly a cheap tailor). One of the gentlemen, Pish-Tush, explains that when the Mikado decreed that flirting was a capital crime, the Titipu authorities frustrated the decree by appointing Ko-Ko, a prisoner condemned to death for flirting, to the post of Lord High Executioner.(3) Ko-Ko was "next" to be decapitated, and the Titipu authorities reasoned that he could "not cut off another's head until he cut his own off", and since Ko-Ko was not likely to try to execute himself, no executions could take place. However, all officials but the haughty Pooh-Bah proved too proud to serve under an ex-tailor, and Pooh-Bah now holds all their posts — and collects all their salaries. Pooh-Bah informs Nanki-Poo that Yum-Yum is scheduled to marry Ko-Ko on that very day.(4)

Ko-Ko enters, and asserts himself by reading off a list of people "who would not be missed" if they were executed.(5) Soon, Yum-Yum appears with her two sisters,  Peep-Bo and Pitti-Sing.(6.7) Ko-Ko encourages a respectful greeting between Pooh-Bah and the young girls, but Pooh-Bah will have none of it.(8) Nanki-Poo arrives on the scene and informs Ko-Ko of his love for Yum-Yum. Ko-Ko sends him away, but Nanki-Poo manages to meet with his beloved and reveals his secret to Yum-Yum – he is the son and heir of the Mikado, but he's travelling in disguise to avoid the amorous advances of Katisha, an elderly lady of his father's court. They lament over what the law forbids them to do.(9)

Ko-Ko receives news that the Mikado has decreed that unless an execution is carried out within a month, the town will be reduced to the rank of a village — which would bring "irretrievable ruin". Pooh-Bah and Pish-Tush point to Ko-Ko himself as the obvious choice for beheading,(10) since he was already under sentence of death, but Ko-Ko protests that, firstly, it would be "extremely difficult, not to say dangerous", for him to attempt to execute himself, and secondly, it would be suicide, which is a "capital offence". Fortuitously, Ko-Ko discovers that Nanki-Poo, in despair over losing Yum-Yum, is preparing to commit suicide. After ascertaining that nothing would change Nanki-Poo's mind, Ko-Ko makes a bargain with him: Nanki-Poo may marry Yum-Yum for one month if, at the end of that time, he allows himself to be executed. Ko-Ko would then marry the young widow.

Everyone arrives to celebrate Nanki-Poo and Yum-Yum's union, (11) but the festivities are interrupted by the arrival of Katisha, who has come to claim Nanki-Poo as her husband. However, the townspeople are much more sympathetic to the young couple, and her attempts to reveal Nanki-Poo's secret are drowned out by the shouting of the crowd. Outwitted but not defeated, Katisha makes it clear that she intends to return.

1. If you want to know who we are
2. A wandering minstrel, I
3. Our great Mikado, virtuous man
4. Young man, despair
5. I've got a little list
6. Comes a train of little ladies
7. Three little maids from school
8. So please you, sir
9. Were you not to Ko-Ko plighted,
10. I am so proud (The "cheap and chippy chopper one")
11. With Aspects Stern (Act 1 finale)

Act II

Yum-Yum is being prepared by her friends for her wedding,(1) after which she is left to muse on her own beauty. (2) She is joined by Pitti-Sing and Peep-Bo, who remind her of the limited nature of her impending union. Joined by Nanki-Poo and Pish-Tush, they try to keep their spirits up,(3) but soon Ko-Ko and Pooh-Bah enter to inform them of a twist in the law that states that when a married man is beheaded for flirting (the only crime so punished), his wife must be buried alive.(4) Yum-Yum is unwilling to marry under these circumstances, and so Nanki-Poo challenges Ko-Ko to behead him on the spot. It turns out, however, that Ko-Ko has never executed anyone and cannot execute Nanki-Poo, because the ex-tailor is too soft-hearted. Ko-Ko instead sends Nanki-Poo and Yum-Yum away to be wed (by Pooh-Bah, as Archbishop of Titipu), promising to present to the Mikado a false affidavit in evidence of the fictitious execution.

The Mikado and Katisha arrive in Titipu with little notice, but accompanied by a large procession.(5,6,7) Ko-Ko assumes that he has come to see whether an execution has been carried out. Aided by Pitti-Sing and Pooh-Bah, he gives a graphic description of the supposed execution (8) and hands the Mikado the certificate of death – signed and sworn to by Pooh-Bah as coroner and noting, slyly, that most of the town's important officers (that is, Pooh-Bah) were present at the "ceremony". However, the Mikado has come about an entirely different matter – he is searching for his son. When they hear that the Mikado's son "goes by the name of Nanki-Poo", the three panic, and Ko-Ko says that Nanki-Poo "has gone abroad". Meanwhile, Katisha is reading the death certificate and notes with horror that the person "executed" was Nanki-Poo. The Mikado (though expressing understanding and sympathy) discusses with Katisha the statutory punishment "for compassing the death of the heir apparent" to the Imperial throne – something lingering, "with boiling oil... or melted lead".(9) With the three conspirators facing painful execution, Ko-Ko pleads with Nanki-Poo to return. Nanki-Poo fears that Katisha will order his execution if she finds he is alive, but notes that if Ko-Ko could persuade Katisha to marry him, then Nanki-Poo could safely "come to life again". Though Katisha is "something appalling", Ko-Ko has no choice: it is marriage to Katisha, or a painful death for all three.(10)

Ko-Ko discovers Katisha mourning her loss(11) and throws himself on her mercy. He begs for her hand in marriage, saying that he has long harboured a passion for her. Katisha initially rebuffs him, but is soon moved by his pleadings.(12) She agrees (13) and, once the ceremony is performed (by Pooh-Bah, the Registrar), begs mercy for him and his "accomplices" from the Mikado. Nanki-Poo and Yum-Yum then re-appear, sparking Katisha's fury. The Mikado feigns astonishment* that Nanki-Poo is alive, when the account of his execution had been given with such "affecting particulars". Ko-Ko explains that when a royal command for an execution is given, the victim is, legally speaking, as good as dead, "and if he is dead, why not say so?". The Mikado deems that "Nothing could possibly be more satisfactory", and so Titipu celebrates.(14)

1. Braid the raven hair
2. The sun whose rays are all ablaze
3. Brightly dawns our wedding day, (the madrigal)
4. Here's a how-de-do
5. Miya Sama
6. From every kind of man (daughter-in-law elect)
7. A more humane Mikado (punishment fit the crime)
8. The criminal cried (snickersnee)
9. See how the fates
10. The flowers that bloom in the spring
11. Alone, but yet alive (O, living I)
12. Titwillow
13. There is beauty in the bellow of the blast
14. For he's gone and married Yum-Yum (finale)

*Wikipedia says "the Mikado is astonished," but I suspect the Mikado wasn't fooled in the slightest.

The Mikado Diaries volume 6

After the last rant about Nanki-Poo's general bad attitude in the last blog, let me come out and say that he has got his act together and is acting more like a gentleman and more like the person I thought he was in Oliver! I'm very much relieved about that, because if things had carried on the way they were, there would have been an explosion before the week was up, I am convinced of it.

Sunday was the technical dress rehearsal, but it wasn't, at first, much of a rehearsal in the way we were expecting. We started off going over the finale, which had been a little rusty, and then various isolated scenes requiring particular lighting. When it got later and later, and we hadn't had a full run-through, some people got a little agitated, especially Pitti-Sing-1, whose penultimate rehearsal this was. In the end, we went through the musical numbers, mainly the chorus's scenes as we were least confident, and the scenes featuring Pitti, though Pooh-Bah was absent, investigating whether his van had been broken into, so I heard.

On Monday we had the orchestra in. It was my final rehearsal as Pitti-Sing, and where I had gone wrong before, I made the effort to do right, and only made a couple of minor boo-boos: starting "for he's going to marry Yum-Yum," too slowly, and getting my foot caught in my kimono when I went to stand up for "Braid the Raven Hair." The latter song is my least favourite part of the show. The verse is too high and warbly and hard to sing in one breath. "Braid the raven hai-air, weave the su-u-u-u-upple tre-ess." And Pitti's verse, too. I've only sung it a few times - five or six maximum on stage, and I'm never quite sure what I'm supposed to be doing while I'm singing. Also, it changes speed halfway through the verse. On Thursday I took my eyes off the conductor at that point and got lost. Monday, however, I watched the conductor until I was in the swing of it, then turned to Yum-Yum.

After the rehearsal I was exhilarated, chattering non-stop. It hadn't been absolutely perfect, but it went well. None of the little maids were unhappy, and I had really felt I was Pitti-Sing, especially in the first act, and especially when confronting Katisha. Katisha is a fantastic person to act with. She takes so much pleasure out of being over-the-top that it gives everyone else the confidence to give it that bit more welly as well. (The opposite effect from Nanki-Poo on Thursday.) In the dressing rooms I was twittering about how much I was in love with the part, how she was so much fun to play. Pitti-1 was wonderfully supportive, saying how my expression in the Act 1 Finale was fantastic, convincingly angry. (She's so sweet. She seems to think the world of me, and be pleased for me when she could quite easily be jealous of me taking one of the performances.) But before too long, Peep-Bo and Yum-Yum were shouting at me, "Katherine, get undressed!" At going on 11PM, I was still in my costume, hyper as ever.

That evening's rehearsal was blighted, however by some tragic news of one of the chorus. This lady had been absent from rehearsals, leaving our group of four in "Comes a train of little ladies," diminished by two, where I was Pitti and V was absent. At the end of the rehearsal, the director told us that V's teenage son had died suddenly that day. We all went home stunned and shocked. He was just the age of Pitti-1; Peep-Bo had taught him at school. A sad end to an otherwise fantastic rehearsal.

There was one more rehearsal on Tuesday, and even that wasn't a non-stop run-through, for they had to go over a couple of bits with the orchestra. Then Wednesday was opening night.

This is where I must leave you, as I leave for another show in five minutes. I won't have a chance to blog again before the end of the run - my turn comes tomorrow at 2.30, then the final show is tomorrow evening. So I'll tell you about the real thing probably on Sunday afternoon. If I'm not asleep.

Currently Breaking Dawn (The Twilight Saga, Book 4) By Stephenie Meyer see related

The Mikado Diaries volume 5

One week to go and some things are falling into place. Others are not. The chorus, especially the women's chorus, are patchy in the extreme, missing entries and forgetting movements. Some of the ladies, I know, are watching me, something I have asked them not to do, again and again. It's all very well watching what other people are doing, but it's not inconceivable that I might go wrong - it has been known! - and then if that's the case that's a chunk of the chorus confused. They seem to be remembering more bits each time, but there is the inevitable, "where do I come on? Am I next to you?" each week - and when people are talking, then don't know when they should start singing as a result - honestly, they're like children in that respect. I was frustrated on Tuesday, when we were going over exactly the same moves in the rehearsal as on the Sunday rehearsal.

The chorus, however, have nothing on Nanki-Poo. He is certainly at the top of my "Little List," and that of probably every member of staff. He makes it quite clear by his behaviour that we should be greatly privileged to have him with us, and that it is at great cost to him that he is taking part. He misses half of the rehearsals for one reason or another, and we have had a variety of people standing in for him. I think I've acted with him twice, or maybe three times. On Thursday, he condescended to turn up, but botched his lines, repeatedy; requested, nay, demanded, that the bench on which he woos Yum-Yum be removed from the set, because "it gets in the way." If no one else has a problem with that bench being there, it stands to reason that it is not the bench that is in the wrong place, but Nanki-Poo himself. I'm sorry, Nanki-Poo, but you have forfeited your right to complain or criticise. In addition, he has criticised other members of cast, refused to practise the parts he gets wrong, and whenever he's on stage but not actually doing anything, he stands there looking bored. And it throws everyone else. I know I felt self-conscious, uncomfortable, and unable to act around him, his bad attitude was so smothering.

I had so much respect for him in Oliver! I looked up to him as a near-professional, but in The Mikado he has proved himself to be about the most unprofessional person I have ever met, even more so than the Prima Donna.  My feelings towards him have gone from disappointment and disilluionment, to disdain, to utter disgust. No one else would be allowed to get away with this, but no one's said anything to him for fear that he might stomp out, or because he is the one and only [Nanki-Poo.]

This has been a rather vitriolic blog, and I apologise for that. But it is upsetting that the show, and the mood, is being spoilt for everyone because of one man. If I do something, I will do it whole-heartedly, and I am always disappointed when other people don't live by the same standards.

Our costumes turned up on Thursday, which I had been looking forward to immensely. In the car on the way to the theatre, we were speculating what colour kimonos we would like to wear. I suggested turquoise, because I have some lovely turquoise eye-shadow that I wanted to match with the outfit. When I arrived, imagine my pleasure when I was handed... a turquoise kimono! Along with a Japanese-style wig and two obis. The kimono is reversable; we wear them one way around for act one, when we're coming from school, and the other way in act 2, when we're preparing for Yum-Yum's wedding and the Mikado's arrival in the town of Titipu. (Yes, really.)

As Pitti-Sing, I wear a burgundy-ish kimono, and wave a pretty, but fairly useless, cardboard pink fan. I'm keeping my own obi though, as I'm smaller than Pitti-Sing-1. As it is, I will need several safety pins! I was Pitti-Sing on Thursday, so I was the first to rehearse in that costume. Pitti's wig is nicer than the chorus, but it got rather scruffy after "The Criminal Cried" scene, which involves much kneeling and grovelling. I was pretty sure it was slipping by the finale. Again, many pins will be needed, of the hair variety this time.

Wearing the wig I felt like an actress for the first time. In Oliver! I had great fun, stepped into character easily, but just felt like myself playing make-believe or telling a story. Looking in the mirror, with my make-up and black bobbed wig, I felt like a proper actress, in the changing rooms of 100 years ago. Jessie Bond, I think was the original Pitti-Sing. For a moment I made believe I was her.

Three more rehearsals to go; one as Pitti-Sing and two in the chorus. Then Wednesday we open. I've heard the orchestra; they had their first rehearsal last Sunday. I went along, with Pitti-Sing-1, Pitti-Sing-1's boyfriend, Peep-Bo, Katisha, The Mikado and one of the male chorus members, and we all sang along. It's a fabulous, 22-piece orchestra taking up the whole space in front of the stage, and as they started up, I felt as excited as if I was watching a long-awaited show; Wicked, perhaps, or Phantom, at the West End, or when Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King came out in the cinema. It really makes it feel real. I can't wait for when we have costumes, make-up, lights and orchestra all together. Though I will only twice more be Pitti-Sing. One more rehearsal - then the real thing. I'm not ready. I know my words, my moves, my character and my harmonies - though I still went wrong on Thursday. In my recit before "he's going to marry Yum-Yum," I came in too soon, but that was a one-off. I usually get it right. I was also accused of "scooping," or sliding from one note to another instead of hitting the notes "crisply in the middle." ("That's fine for musical theatre, Katherine, but not for G and S.") Also I got the rhythm wrong in my verse of "Braid the Raven Hair." I have been practising those things over and over ever since. I think I've got it - but where the rest of the cast have three rehearsals left, I've only got one in which to get it all spot-on. Pitti-1 has got two, so even she's better off. Still, Olwen, the director, said that if I can do this, (learn two parts simultaneously,) it'll be a feather in my cap. The other reason I'm not ready is that I don't want to let go of Pitti-Sing. She's such a fun, sassy, cheeky character I don't want to stop being her yet. I've found a likeable, confident character who is not in the least like me.

I had a phone call from Hannah yesterday. She and Paul are coming down to see me, which was a nice surprise. I had invited her but wasn't sure I actually expected her to come. It was a nice daydream, but it's becoming real. Judi's coming too, and it'll be nice to have some of my best friends from different places all together again. They've met once, and got on like a house on fire. Judi came to stay one weekend in Kingston, and we walked for 3/4 of an hour to the cinema in the pouring rain, Judi, Hannah, Kelly and me. And Judi and Hannah stormed on ahead and left me and Kelly, who was wearing high heels, far behind. It would have been an amusing sight for anyone who walked into the cinema Ladies' to see us all standing under the four hand driers, drying ourselves off as best we could.