Read on to see exclusive behind-the-scenes video footage of Furze Platt’s Harlem Shake clip, plus photos from this year’s Guys & Dolls school musical production.
Inspired, perhaps, by the coalition government’s recent progress update, I’ve decided to do my very own little ‘mid-term review’ of my time in Year 12 at Furze Platt Senior School’s Sixth Form. Including inset days, weekends, and the two holiday breaks so far, it’s 164 days since I walked through the school gates in my then-new suit for the first time.
Today marked the end of the third term of six of the 2012/13 academic year.
It’s a term that, frankly, I’m glad to see the back of. Beginning with the stress of January exams, it concluded with the pressure of coursework deadlines and an ever-present struggle to ‘get everything done’.
A week tonight, the audience will applaud Furze Platt’s performance of Little Shop of Horrors for the last time; we’ll strike the set; and if we’re all not too tired, somebody will host an after-show party. This is the first time the Music and Drama departments have come together since the opening of the new arts facilities at school in October, and this show makes full use of the technical advantages of our state-of-the-art studio theatre.
Rehearsals for this year’s school musical are now entering the final few days, and unlike last year when I worked with the technical team, I’m up on stage this time as Orin (the sadist dentist). It’s a fairly minor role – I made it clear from the very beginning that I didn’t have the time for the lead – but it’s easily the most entertaining character in the musical, thanks to his morbid, self-professed “fascination with human pain and suffering”, the way he so badly treats Audrey (his supposed girlfriend), and the quite spectacular way he dies. Having a more modest part has meant I haven’t had to attend as many rehearsals as Tilly and Mark (Audrey and Seymour respectively), nor have I had anything like the number of songs to learn as the chorus, but ultimately it’s allowed me to be part of the show without it impacting too greatly on my other work and social commitments.
For those who don’t know the show, it began as The Little Shop of Horrors, a 1960 American comedy film, before it was adapted to a stage musical in 1982. Less than five years later, it morphed once more, this time into a film adaptation of the stage musical. Without wanting to give away any spoilers, it’s a hilarious story. Seymour, a nerd and orphan, is given a job by the owner of the self-named ‘Mushnik’s Skid Row Florists’, in a downtown American city. Seymour works alongside the beautiful Audrey, who he dreams of. Audrey herself dreams of one day having “Somewhere That’s Green” and living with “a sweet little guy like Seymour” – a world apart from the life she currently leads: living in run-down Skid Row and dating Orin. Seymour buys a plant (which he names Audrey II after the subject of his crush), which (in addition to the usual requirement of CO2 and H2O), also needs Hb (blood).
To find out who becomes plant food first, you’ll have to come along and watch!
Little Shop of Horrors runs from Monday 6 February to Thursday 9 February 2012. Tickets are available to buy from the school office.
I remember the cold morning earlier this year clearly when, during a choir-practice for the upcoming spring concert, I first caught wind of Mr Bown’s ambitious plan to reorder the Music and Drama facilities at my school, including the creation of an entirely new building. Mr Bown is one of the Deputy Headteachers at Furze Platt, and I can see a lot of myself in him; a former Drama teacher at a different school, he has a passion for performing arts, has a love for the English language, and regularly works on videos to be shown at various events hosted by the school (including the one I made for him for Open Evening last year). Initially, I thought nothing of this latest scheme of his – he’d been secretly thinking about how he could improve the facilities since I joined, if not before. But this time, it was different: the governors had agreed to the proposal and the money had been found. Furze Platt was to become one of the best-equipped schools for Music and Drama in the Royal Borough.
Construction work started in early May, with the arrival of dumper trucks, excavators, and metal fencing, which cordoned off what had once been a shortcut from the rugby pitch to the PE changing rooms. Within weeks, the Drama department’s possessions – everything, from scripts and prop swords to wigs and scenery used in some of the school’s musicals – would be packed up in boxes and hidden away for months, so as to allow the conversion of the old Drama terrapins into a state-of-the-art recording studio, three new instrumental practice rooms, and a large new Music classroom. Lessons in the interim would take place in the main hall and in the gym.
The Music department were given a little longer before they had to ‘get out’ of their block, due to the continuing composing coursework of our Year 10 class, completed in lesson time under new ‘Controlled Assessment’ rules. Because the keyboards and Sibelius software needed for the work only existed in one classroom, the sledgehammer-wielding men had to wait for us to finish the twenty-hour-long ‘exam’ before they could get started. Eventually, though, every drum, pair of headphones, and poster of the Beatles was boxed up and stored in the rather novel location of the boys’ toilets.
As I had been from the beginning, though, I remained sceptical of whether the project would be ready in time. Originally hoped to be open by the time we returned from the summer holidays, the deadline was soon pushed back a week. Even so, the metal framework for the building had barely been completed as I cycled home on the last day of the summer term. I knew as well as anybody else that it wouldn’t be finished on time, and Mr Bown reportedly had many "a stern word" with the builders, to ensure a further extension to the deadline would not be necessary.
As I’d predicted, come September, the dustsheets and metal fencing still surrounded the construction site. There were no doorframes, let alone pathways, as behind the brick walls, the majority of the building was still an empty shell.
That said, on the other side of the campus, things were looking up for Mrs Armstrong, Head of Music. She introduced me to Miss Watson, her new second-in-line, and proudly showed me around the new block. There was still an electrician working on the recording studio, and the computers weren’t working in either of the two classrooms, but she had at least got somewhere to teach.
As for Mrs Bradley (Head of Drama) and her new Drama teacher, Miss Satterthwaite, the second-week-back deadline had been forgotten about completely. Another few weeks of having nowhere for either teacher to call home followed. But then, at last, news surfaced that we’d be having our first Drama lesson in the new space in the last week of September. It too wasn’t finished, but it was in a state in which we could start using it. "Do you want to see it?" Mrs Bradley asked rhetorically. And oh my goodness, how excited we were on that first day we walked in.
The building is made up of a corridor containing an office, a prop-store, and two toilets, and at the end of the wood-panel flooring are the two drama studios. One is a pretty small yet tall rehearsal room, while the other is a tremendous performance space, with a control desk and gantry overlooking the stage.
Even at the start of this week, though, it wasn’t complete. The lights were only put in a couple of weeks ago, and the projector and drop-down screen were fitted just last week. The black curtains that run around the entire perimeter of the larger studio weren’t there even three days ago.
But now they are. The £1 million building project has finished. Through blood, sweat, and tears, Mr Bown and the heads of the two departments (among so many others) have worked so tirelessly to secure some excellent facilities for our school.
The actress who plays Lady Sybil Crawley in the hugely successful series Downton Abbey, Jessica Brown-Findlay, attended Furze Platt as a child. Who knows what roles the students of today will be in in in ten years’ time?