Show Diary: Disney’s Beauty and the Beast – Music Rehearsals Week One

For every single musical I’ve been in (and I’ve been in a super lot), the first rehearsals are always music rehearsals. The first week of Beauty and the Beast rehearsals for me covered two particular songs: “The Mob Song” and “Belle.”

I get to sing my favorite line!

In “The Mob Song” I’ve always loved the line, “We don’t like what we don’t understand/in fact it scares us/and this monster is mysterious at least.” Whoo hoo, my friends, whoo hoo, first sopranos sing on that line. One of my favorite things about being in an ensemble is that you often to get sing the most iconic songs. Also, sometimes having a featured role is pretty lonely; when we did The Wizard of Oz and I was the Emerald City Guard, I sang “Merry Old Land of Oz” and got some good laughs, but I was only in a few scenes and most of them were with The Four (our director’s shorthand for Dorothy, Scarecrow, Tin Man, and Lion), who had their own bond. The ensemble had their own relationships, too, so I always felt a little like the odd man out during that show. Not many rehearsals, no real chance to “hang out” with the rest of the cast, it was kind of isolating. This time around, I don’t have the spotlight, but I do get to have fun with my castmates and sing the songs that were the most fun to sing when I was a kid.

“Oh, Alan.”

Some of us in the cast are fresh off Sister Act: The Musical, which was also composed by Alan Menken. And during Sister Act, I had some real feelings about the music that, while incredible to listen to, was total ass to sing. For example, this was just one of my notes as Sister Mary Patrick:

During rehearsals, the musical director and I would often shake our heads and say, “Oh, Alan.” This has continued on into Beauty and the Beast, due to having the same musical director.

My cheese dreams were dashed.

Another fun aspect of theater is finding out which lyrics you’ve misheard over the years. But not this one. Oh, no. Not this one.

For years now, I’ve thought that in the end of “Belle,” someone was asking for, “some cheese/10 yards.” When I say years, I mean like THIRTY. For three decades, I’ve been periodically consumed with the idea of ten yards of cheese. Thirty feet of cheese, yous all. Imagine it. It’s absurd, but also admirable? And like… goal?

Well, guess what? The line isn’t, “some cheese/ten yards.” It’s “some cheese/a pound” and someone else just happens to be having a conversation at the same time that involves “ten yards” of something.

My world is irreparably shattered.

I made a new friend!

Of course, I don’t remember his name. Danny, maybe? I probably shouldn’t guess right here because I might accidentally use his real name and I said I wasn’t planning to do that. Drew? I don’t know. Anyway, I asked him if he was wearing eyeliner and told him that if he wasn’t, I wouldn’t be happy for him. He was wearing eyeliner, so now we’re friends. He might not know that. The thing is, I was trying not to collect any more handsome friends because my friend Handsome Jack (real name, that I call him) once looked so spectacularly handsome that I didn’t know how to react and I spiked my phone like a football, right onto the parking lot pavement. I don’t have the kind of dough to just keep replacing phones.

A missed rehearsal

I should honestly say “the first missed rehearsal.” This theater is really good and nice about working with people with disabilities, so when I’ve been ill or having a bad pain day and I have to call off from rehearsal, I don’t feel like anyone will be shitty about it. I try hard not to miss rehearsals, but inevitably my disability interferes.

Of course, due to covid, we have people quarantined now. There were only two covid cases during Sister Act and considering the cast size of like, forty people or whatever? That’s pretty impressive. Also, neither of us got infected at rehearsals; we could both confirm exposure to infected persons/groups. It was totally wild. From what I understand, we go by the same protocol as Opera Grand Rapids, and it seems to be working for them and for us. I just very much appreciate that the organization is worried about keeping us safe.

Pancake Pre-Game

I’m not good at making smart choices. I am good at dragging otherwise smart people along with me on my bad choices. “I want pancakes,” I told my friend Anastasia (that’s a real name, she doesn’t care). “I’m going to have pancakes before rehearsal. Wanna come?”

Now, keeping in mind that my friend Anastasia is a PROFESSIONAL OPERA SINGER, for some reason she AGREED. And went to pancakes with me. And the pancakes were glorious.

But you know what wasn’t glorious? Trying to sing with a stomach full of pancakes. During warm-ups, I looked over to Anastasia and silently mouthed, “I’m gonna puke.”

I didn’t puke. But I did learn a lesson.

If I’m gonna eat a bunch of pancakes right before rehearsal, I have to remember to just pretend to sing.

See also: benefits of being in the ensemble.