The Roar Of The Greasepaint! (From Bucks Free Press)

The Roar Of The Greasepaint!

8:46pm Tuesday 15th June 2010

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Just give me nudge if I should drop off, will you?

Nope, it’s not the footy that’s threatening to send me into a stupor before you ask. Although we are not a family that follows the ‘beautiful game', we do actually tune into the World Cup tournament – after all, I don’t think there’s a rollercoaster ride in existence that can match the stomach churning ups and downs of watching England play! No, in fact the reason for my overwhelming state of tiredness is due to the summer term.

So, what is it that happens at our junior school at this time of year that has me struggling to keep my eyelids open every time I sit down? Well, quite simply, we stage a play. With the occurrence of this momentous occasion the teaching support staff metamorphoses into a make-do theatre company, complete with prop, costume and scenery departments. No talent remains untapped, and often quite a few of the women discover skills they never knew they had.

I’m more than happy to use my otherwise neglected skills as an artist to tackle the scenery. For three weeks, I research and sketch, paint and sponge, shin up ladders and sprawl on floors (extremely hard ones, much to the disgust of my poor old knees), and quickly end up, and remain throughout, looking and feeling like something a cat dragged in!

The task is always challenging, sometimes frustrating, often hilarious. A few years back, one of the scenes required me to paint Covent Garden Opera House. I soon discovered, because this magnificent building is situated in a very narrow street, all the references I could find showed it at an angle. After many, many hours I eventually produced a six-foot version of the theatre using a considerable amount of artistic license. I don’t think many people noticed the inaccuracy in my perspective, but it niggled me considerably. It was while working on this same backdrop that one of my colleagues put a paint tray down and politely instructed me not to step back. Although I acknowledged her request, a moment later I still managed to stand on the edge of the tray, and as a result, catapulted yellow paint up the back of my trousers and all over the stage - a great deal of giggling and mopping ensued.

Anyway, despite the mess and the aches and pains and the bitten nails (which taste of various types of paint incidentally), our effort is rewarded when we see the children perform in superb costumes with brilliant props and a (quite) convincing setting. I have to say though, I’m glad it happens only once a year!

Bye for now.

Tania Greenwood