Writing songs — music and lyrics — for this production felt like a big break for me, but in truth the success of the show was far from dependent on my contribution. The piece was a star vehicle for Chris Harris, an immensely popular figure locally. Chris combined the skills of a circus clown with those of a comic actor, equally expert at physical and verbal comedy. He was also a warm, friendly man who was liked and admired by casts, crews and audiences alike.
The Bristol Twins was Goldoni’s The Venetian Twins transplanted. As a Christmas show for the local audience it was an inspired idea. The adaptation was by actor-writer David Phethean, whom I think I met only once, the day he came into the theatre to deliver the script. Once I’d read it, I sat in director John David’s office and we discussed where the songs were going to be placed and what they’d be about.
At this stage of my life, in spite of a musical training with a heavily-classical bias (because there was no other kind of musical training available) I was still instinctively a lead-line and chords kind of composer, but that was about to change. I knew that Stephen Sondheim, whose work was having a huge influence on me, always wrote detailed piano accompaniments, and that the Bristol Old Vic’s musical director, Neil Rhoden, was a first-class pianist (which I was not). I listened carefully to the work that Neil did on developing the accompaniments, noting his bravura playing technique. The lesson was clear: always work with the best players, because when you need virtuosity, they can provide it.
Neil arranged the music for a trio. In addition to himself on piano, there was a drum-kit player (de rigeur for pointing up Chris Harris’ many physical gags) and a bassoonist. The bassoon was great both for comedy and, for the show’s romantic moments, a sweet plaintiveness.
The cast had a couple of particularly strong singers in Amanda Redman and Tim Brown, for whom I was able to write an over-the-top romantic duet that I was quite proud of. The other goodie was the finale of the first act, during which Chris Harris, as twin brothers who, of course, couldn’t meet, astonished the audience by appearing on one side of the stage having just exited from the other. But I was aware that I hadn’t fully realise the potential of some of the ideas I’d had or that I’d discussed with the director. I put it down then to inexperience, but looking back I think I was beginning to realise that song-writing had limitations as well as intricacies.
The icing on the cake was that I had a nice little acting part. I shared a good scene with Ian Price, who was excellent as the show’s serpentine villain. The show’s designer, John McMurray, provided me with a rich 18th century gentleman’s costume to wear. I was very lucky to be doing everything I wanted to do: to be a composer, lyricist, actor and singer.
