One of the central tragedies of my life is that I love musical theatre but have no ability to either sing or dance. In the parlance of the West End, I am a single threat. A single threat to any musical I’m cast in.
And yet I love the art form so much, I’ve actually been in many, many musicals - and spent almost ten years appearing in a very well received improvised play with songs - Happily Never After (based on the more gothic works of Tim Burton).
I was thinking about this a few days ago, when I attended a one-off concert version of Songs for a New World at the Hammersmith Apollo. If you don’t know it, that venue is cavernous and it was filled to bursting with (former) theatre kids and a few protesting partners who had been dragged along unwillingly.
A big reason for the fever pitch excitement was that the one-off nature of the show had allowed the producers to put together a cast that, due to the star wattage on display, would not have been possible for any kind of sustained run. Shoshana Bean, Tituss Burgess, Joy Woods and Jordan Fisher - all on the same stage, at the same time. That’s the Avengers: Endgame of musical theatre right there.
All four of them had the most incredible, dynamic voices, full of resonance and expression. They were extraordinary - singing solo and as an ensemble - I doubt I’ll ever forget the sheer joy I felt at their intermingling harmonies in the concert’s final moments.
But actually, that’s not what’s stayed with me from a performer’s perspective. Because they didn’t rely purely on their voices, there was a lot more going on on that stage. And I realised that they were the same areas of focus that had allowed me to be a part of musicals for my entire life, despite being barely able to hold a tune with a voice that doesn’t sound nice to listen to in any case.
So here I present a list of things that ANYONE can bring to a musical performance - improvised or scripted - whether you have the voice of an angel or that of an amorous fox, behind the bins at midnight.
- Act the song This would be my number one tip. Don’t forget the adage that a song starts in a musical when what the character is feeling transcends their ability to express it in words. These are inherently emotional, even transformational moments - if you’re stuck on the musicality of your performance - you’re leaving a whole lot of dramatic potential on the table. What I saw on the Apollo stage, and what I try to do whenever I’m performing a song (because I have no other option), is a search for an emotional through-line for the character. Variances in pace, volume, phrasing and even whether a line is sung at all. Just because you’ve got an impressive belt, doesn’t mean you need to deploy it on every line. Acting your way through the song, instead of going into a sort of musically-induced, middle-distance-staring fugue state for the duration, is infinitely preferable for an audience perspective. And if you can sing well on top of that, all the better, I’m just saying that you can get pretty impressive results regardless.
- Be a fan of your own work Humility aside, this is something I feel I excel at. Watching performers who are enjoying what they are doing is a huge win for an audience. You should actually feel the joy coming off them in waves. The first time I watched any kind of longform performance in Edinburgh, my immediate reaction was THEY LOOK LIKE THEY’RE HAVING SO MUCH FUN, not they’re so talented or they’re such great storytellers (although both of those things were true), it was the fact that they were enjoying themselves. Even if you’re at the side of the stage - be engaged, be focussed, be joyful. It’s such an antidote to the stress of wanting, nay needing, to do well. Go out there and have fun. Because audiences are generally empathetic entities - if they see you are stressed or worried, they won’t be laughing or enjoying your show. They’ll be hoping you’re alright. Which is objectively lovely but not what you ideally want from a paying crowd. Inspire love, not pity.
- Connect with the audience A song often allows you to look out into an audience. Most of the time in theatre, and this is true, you’re not meant to look at the audience (red hot acting tip there). But in songs, the audience is often let in on your contemplation - just like soliloquies in Shakespeare plays. Use that convention to connect with the audience - look them in the eyes, include them in your thoughts - it’s a musically-mandated softening of the fourth wall. It’s such a gift - because as an improviser particularly, I would argue that your most important goal is to connect with your scene partner, but in a very close second place, your goal is to connect with an audience.
- BONUS IMPROV TRICK - Keep your lyrics simple This is improv-specific, but if you are making up the words you’re singing - don’t get too bogged down in rhymes and complex imagery. Find one simile or metaphor to express what your character is feeling, and go deeper not broader with it. Some songs don’t rhyme at all - and it’s almost always in trying to make a song rhyme that we become unstuck and the whole enterprise unspools into incoherence. I was struck by the elegance of some of the lyrics in Songs for a New World - you don’t have to try too hard, the music does a lot of the work for you. Just try to express something true.
So there we have it - the confessions of a musical theatre performer who doesn’t have the option of blinding people with range or technique - but the good news is - you can still go a long way with a little talent and a lot of joy.
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💡 Hey, my name’s Chris Mead. I write an article about improv almost every week. You can get the latest in your inbox by subscribing to my newsletter. Or check out the archive.
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