A year on from Murder Admin

A year ago Thursday marked the day I was fired from the Worst Temp Job Ever. You can read all about Worst Temp Job Ever in this post or as I refer to it 'Murder Admin Job' more on that in a moment.

I did mean to mark the day, for reasons that will become apparent. But I was too busy finishing transcribing a Hip Hop interview, and finishing edits on an article. And that's a brilliant reason anyway to not write a blog post. But even better because Worst Temp Job Ever was the point at which I said 'I'll give it a year' meaning I'd give it a year to see where doing what I really wanted to do took me. That I wouldn't take the next full time office job that wanted me for the sake of a full time salary. That I'd give myself a little space with temping and/or retail jobs to see where the foundations I'd started to lay took me. And so a year on, here we are.

Firstly Worst Temp Job Ever. Short version: was taken by an agency to to admin on murder investigations. Understandably that was not fun. I got fired 3 weeks later. Hurrah freedom from Murder Admin. Joking aside, and relief aside last February was one of the darkest times career wise, and mental health wise in a long time. It took months of an equally crappy temp job to crawl out of that hole. But the next temp job being part time got me back on track with my 'real work'. That ended in September, and I've since started a very nice part time job...and things seem to be momentarily back on track...while the 'real work' seems to be steadily growing. Into what is anyone's guess, but a year on, well that's what you missed.

It's been hard. One of the hardest years since/including my PhD. The worry of financial stability (or lack thereof) the worry that it's a gamble too big, that I don't know what I'm doing (spoiler alert I still don't know what I'm doing). And that I'm being judged constantly as a 'failure' for my choices...

But I realised a lot of my worry comes from a sense of 'should' the idea that I 'should' have a 'proper' job by now. That I 'shouldn't' be wasting my time with any of these things. That even if I am, I'm 'not doing it right'. But that's an important lesson I've learned (the hard way) this year. The people who are your real friends, will always be your cheerleader. The people that matter will respond with commiserations when you need them, but respond with joy when you send them an article you're proud of. They won't, say I don't know, send you emails detailing how you're a terrible human for taking a commissioned article on a thing you know a lot about. (Yup that happened). More importantly, the friends that matter will tell you to keep going (but still listen to you complain about how awful it is).

And what have I done this year? oh, many things. I don't want to turn this into a list of achievements because progress isn't always linear, and it's also not a competition. But it's well documented I've been writing a book. I've also submitted a final draft of a play that hopefully will be performed later this spring. I've got a musical I'm working on, and a commissioned play. I've done some teaching, both in University and in adult education. I've grown my journalism portfolio with some pretty great publications. There's so much more I'd love to have done, and I often feel like I haven't achieved enough. But step by step.

One of the other things I've learned this year is to take myself seriously, and to stand up for myself, and my work. It's a classic 'I'm no bossy, I'm the boss' moment. That could be integrity of the work, the sense of self of not getting treated badly, or it could be a simple matter of monetary worth. I still work for free, for example, but only on my terms, for things I see will have personal or professional gain. The power of saying 'No' is as important as saying 'Yes'.

But taking myself seriously goes beyond occasionally putting my foot down. It's a much more personal sense of self confidence and self assertiveness in the work. People don't take writing seriously. Or sometimes they tell you only bits of your work deserve to be taken seriously. My friend told me this week she describes what I do as 'She writes theatre and writes about theatre' and I firstly love that and will be stealing it. Secondly, it works so well because it gives each of them equal ranking. Whether I'm writing a play or writing a book about other people's plays, they are both important, and they require the same level of work and commitment. Writing plays isn't just a hobby, it's another cog in my 'Portfolio career'. Writing reviews, also isn't just something I do for fun, it's my job. And one I take seriously.

And this messy mish-mash of things somehow adds up to a whole. I don't know where any of it is leading, but actually so far it's lead onto a whole host of exciting things, and so firstly I don't think I'll stop yet. But also I'm done with people treating it like a cute little hobby. I will fight for the integrity fo the work across all the platforms, and take it all as seriously as a salaried job. That doesn't mean being serious all the time; I'll still write plays about gay undertakers who love trains (true story) and I'll still talk about sex in toilets on the BBC (also true story) but I also treat those things like the weird job they are.

And so what have I learned from this year long accidental experiment? I've learned that aside from a job that I'm truly passionate about (so hi National Theatre if you're reading this, give me a call) a return to the 9-5 full time office job is, for the moment, not for me. The half freelancer life I currently have has done wonders for my mental health, and the mix of public facing work and working from home is a balance that is working, and if in time I can earn a sustainable living from some version of this, that's something to aim for practically speaking. I also very much enjoy what I believe cool Millennials are calling 'the hustle' I love the buzz of pitching for jobs and articles. I love the idea that in 6 months my projects might be entirely different. And I love that I can say yes to opportunties that come my way.

I recognise it's a privileged position in many ways. But also I'd like to note, I'm really not making money here. Just this Monday I was in tears, at having lost a piece of work, at the fact my 'day job' pays minimum wage, and that some days it is all one hell of a struggle. But at the moment, the promise of what it might turn into....is enough to keep fighting a bit longer.

A year ago I said give it a year and see where I am. On one had you quickly realise a year isn't long enough. On Friday my Mum told me to give it another 2 or 3 and then decide if I'm giving up. And on Friday I wrote this tweet:

I’m not normally one to shout about such things, but I will say, a year ago I’d been fired from a shit temp job. Today I was on BBC Radio And had an article in Slate.
And I’m taking a moment to be proud of that.

— Dr Emily Garside (@EmiGarside) January 25, 2019

It's an arbitrary measure of an accidentally really fucking good day. But it's also a measure of how far I've come. It's taken more than a year for everything to conspire to those two good things happening. But it's also a damn good marker of how far I've come.

I don't actually know where all this mess is leading me...and I'm kind of ok with that. And I've finally learned to slow down in my expectations of how, where and when that has to happen. I do finally in life have a set of concrete aims, plans, call it what you will in terms of writing, in terms of projects beyond my current ones. But actually, let's see where the 'hustle' takes me a year from now. Because whatever happens, it can't be worse than a year in Murder Admin would have been anyway, so I'm already winning.

And what next? I want to keep writing. I want to grow who I write for and what I write. I also want to teach more. If you happen to read this and would like someone to do those things please get in touch...my CV is here.

Jersey Boys (National Tour) ****

‘Chasing the music, trying to get home’

Touring the UK once again, the production remains at West End quality. And for fans of the show, or the Four Seasons, the blend of the hits, and the story of the band will be a real treat. But it’s important to remember Jersey Boys is more than just a stringing together of hits on stage. It’s an impeccably crafted musical.

Jersey Boys isn’t just a classic of the Jukebox biopic musical, it is by now a masterclass in how it’s done. Taking after The Buddy Holly Story, which really introduced the genre, Jersey Boys offers the increasingly rare thing in the jukebox genre; a use of the band’s music to tell an effective story, but one which understands the musical theatre format.

Narratively it’s a satisfying biopic of a musical. Taking the audience from the early days in Jersey, through to success, stardom and the bumps in the road along the way. It doesn’t try and get bogged down in details, and likely Valli fans can fill in the blanks themselves. Structurally a niggle still remains that the first act has three endings before it actually ends. Logically ending on the crux of stardom with ‘Sherri’ would seem the best fit, but the story endures a little longer to hit on Tommy’s money issues and ends on that note. The only time the mix of the band performing, and the narrative seem at odds- musically, and narratively, the first act ends on a whimper not a bang. But the balance is restored in Act 2 and once again the story balances narrative and performance admirably. We get a glimpse of the band’s ‘big moments’ -from TV to returning ‘home’ to perform, and it of course all ends on a high with the Rock and Roll hall of Fame.

The narrative structure of Jersey Boys, as well as the performances it commands is what makes it so commendable an example of the genre. The Four Seasons’ songs are used, interwoven in the narrative- mostly in chronological order- to tell the story of the band. But cleverly the documentary format it’s presented in early on, is turned on it’s head when other members of the band take over narration. It is in fact a Rashomon effect musical- the same story re-told with contradictory versions from every person involved. Midway through it becomes apparent that the story woven to this point is one of four, and from that point on, the rest of the band interject, their narrative competing, overlapping and leaving audiences to make up their own mind. It’s deceptively simple to think of Jersey Boys as simply a ‘jukebox musical’ in the most basic format, and it’s a testament to book writers Rick Elice and Marshall Brickman, who weave the stories, and the music together. Jersey Boys is far more than stringing the hits of a band together and putting them on stage and remains the gold standard of the genre for this.

The performances this requires are incredible, and the current cast rise to this admirably. Not only do they have to do a standard musical performance, but they have to perform within a performance, and sing in the kind of close harmonies that took the Four Seasons themselves years to master. It’s a huge sing every night not just for Michael Watson playing Valli, but the often under-appreciated role of the other four who create the harmonies that make up the Four Seasons’ sound. And as the above suggests, the performance requirements of Jersey Boys are also no easy ride. Not only are the actors playing a real person, with all the baggage and expectation that comes with that, but they balance performance within performance alongside some intricate storytelling.  Simon Bailey as Tommy DeVito is a master at all three. From the opening scenes, he has Tommy’s charisma and engagement, pulling the audience into the story, raising the laughs and with a vocal performance to match. DeVito really anchors the story and Bailey really balances the charm with the ego that was his downfall. Michael Watson as Valli does the best thing an actor can do in that role- he creates his own version of Valli without impersonating him. His vocals are exceptional, and his performance makes Valli an affable, engaging character, with a real element of heart. Declan Egan and Lewis Griffiths round out the group and each of them puts their own mark on the performance- and again give vocal performances that are not to be underestimated. Egan has a nerdish charm as Guardio, and a dry delivery that makes him an entertaining watch and actually the band member you find yourself rooting for more. Griffiths equally gives Nicky a humour that endears him despite perhaps having less to do as the ‘Ringo’ of the group, he makes his mark. None of the performances- from the Four Seasons to the hard-working ensemble, to the band, should be underestimated. From the close harmony vocals to the precise band choreography, Jersey Boys is still a tightly woven, and easy to underestimate performance. And this tour cast truly rise to the challenge.

And what is it about Jersey Boys that makes it such a classic, so relatively early in its life (it turns 13 this year). As the musical says, it’s their fans. Both of the Four Seasons and the musical itself now perhaps. The Four Seasons suffered, as the musical tells us. They weren’t the Beatles, and they got less press, less TV, less fame because of who they were and where they came from. But their fans, their fans loved them. And their fans were the working-class people who came from the same neighbourhoods. And while Bob Guardio might not give a fuck about the old neighbourhood (as he says in the post-script) it’s the old neighbourhood that made the Four Seasons. And Jersey Boys? It does an odd thing for a musical, it has a hard-core group of musical theatre fans who have followed the show for years. Who love its music and the almost perfectly crafted example of the genre it offers, they love its actors, and the performances? Meanwhile, on tour, in London and still in New York, Jersey Boys attracts the crowd the Four Seasons perhaps did- those who don’t make a habit of musical watching, but those who remember ‘Sherri’ or ‘Big Girls Don’t Cry’. A true crossover hit, Jersey Boys is a fascinating example of what Jukebox Musicals can and should be.

Moreover, it’s still just a great night out at the theatre.

Star Rating: ****

Wales Millennium Centre until 26th January touring nationwide. 

WMC tickets available here

Tour information here 

Epilogue

Yes I’m still loving these, and it’s my blog, I get to do what I like.

So Jersey Boys…not what perhaps, if you know me, you’d think was my usual taste? Turns out I have a lot of love for the four guys under a streetlamp.

I first saw Jersey Boys in San Francisco on the first stop of it’s first National Tour. I was on holiday and did the usual thing of seeing whatever was playing. I’d never heard Frankie Valli sing (to my knowledge) and let me tell you I had the shock of my life…but I was charmed by the musical then. And years later having spent another decade studying musicals I really appreciate what it does. This blog turned into a mini essay that may well turn into something more. The Buddy Holly Story is another obsession of mine musically, and that genre that began there, of telling a musician’s story through their songs on stage is of endless fascination (I’m a lover of biography).

Moreover I love close harmony groups and Jersey Boys in that respect is utterly my crack. Do you know how hard that is to sing? It’s HARD and those boys do it as a group while performing as musical theatre actors. And that still blows my mind every time.

So it turns out I’m a Jersey Boys stan. I will die on this particular hill of musical theatre, and turns out I have a lot more thoughts than I thought on The Old Neighbourhood.