Open Writing

Excuse me if I’m a bit croaky this morning. I’m suffering from a severe case of the Edelweisses.

I’ve been adding my voice to the sounds of music. To be more precise, I’ve been joining in the enticing sing-along songs from The Sound Of Music.

I suppose half the world has seen the 1965 film, which starred Julie Andrews and Christopher Plummer.

I was in the half that hadn’t… until last Saturday. We went as a family party to the splendid Kings Theatre in Glasgow - a theatre which reminds me of the palaces of entertainment where I watched Christmas pantomimes more than sixty years ago.

We were the odd ones out, you understand. Not that we’re an odd family - though some might think so. It was because we were not dressed up as nuns, or German officers, or golden rays of sunshine.

The Sound of Music tells the story of the singing von Trapp family. Captain von Trapp, who lives on a picture-book estate in Austria, is a widower. Young Maria, a tomboy novice nun, arrives to serve as governess to his children.

The Captain falls in love with Maria, the Germans come marching in to run Austria, the von Trapps have to flee…

A slushy story stuffed with great songs.

Edelweiss, Edelweiss,
Every morning you greet me
Small and white, clean and bright
You look happy to meet me
Blossom of snow may you bloom and grow
Bloom and grow forever…

There, on each seat in the Kings Theatre, was a little goody bag, containing an imitation edelweiss (a white flower), cards which had to be brandished to greet the arrival of Maria, a party-popper…

This was to be let’s-have-a-hoot at The Sound of Music Night.

One of Glasgow’s top DJs was master of ceremonies. He summoned those in fancy dress onto the stage category by category, nuns first. There was a great deal of laughter and applause, and prizes for those who had put the best of their creative effort into their costumes.

Then the show began. The familiar tune…

The hills are alive with the sound of music
With songs they have sung for a thousand years
The hills fill my heart with the sound of music
My heart wants to sing every song it hears…

I had been expecting live on-stage actors. A third-rate Julie Andrews, possessed of a voice best left in the cupboard.

But no! We were confronted with a wide screen, and the film itself ¾ all two-hours-and-some minutes of it.

Cards were waved at the appropriate moments. We hissed at one character, aaahed at another. When the Captain finally kissed Maria, party-poppers were popped.

The words of every song appeared at the bottom of the giant screen.

And our hearts really did want to sing every song we heard.

Raindrops and roses and whiskers on kittens
Bright copper kettles and warm woollen mittens
Brown paper packages tied up with string
These are a few of my favourite things.

(I never quite got into tune with that one.)

Doe, a deer a female deer
Ray, a drop of golden sun
Me, a name I call myself
Far, a long, long way to run
Sew, a needle pulling thread
La, a note to follow Sew
Tea, a drink with jam and bread
That will bring us back to Do oh-oh-oh..

(You should have heard my rendition of that! Had they been auditioning for a live show…)

At the end of a very long evening’s entertainment, hundreds of us emerged from the theatre, all with happy smiling faces.

Which left me thinking that there’s a huge future for participation shows.

We’re fed up of sitting and staring at stage, screen and TV set. We want to join in!

The Victorians had their music halls, where everyone was encouraged to sing.

The only spontaneous communal sing-alongs these days are to be had at football grounds - and the words to the chants and songs are not, perhaps, quite so universally appealing as those in The Sound Of Music.

Enterprising theatrical entrepreneurs should adapt hundreds of other musical films into public sing-along format.

I’m eager to join in. Provided my voice recovers.