Dream Girls and Mez

It's been a long day today and I have spent the majority of it in agony on account of having decided to wear a pair of new shoes which, I realised, rather too late, were a size too small for me. The pain was so intense that I was forced to take them off and walk in my socks for one period of the day! We live and learn.

The day started after way too little sleep at Shul where we performed quite a lot of material I'd not sung before. It turns out there's an almost limitless supply of Jewish liturgical music, much of which revolves around settings of the same few pieces of religious text. It took a bit of learning. I dedicated much of yesterday to the task, but it's really only when you hear your own line in context, that the music truly makes sense. I was a bit of a shambles in the rehearsal as a result, but it was enough to focus my brain and I nailed the actual gig, but for a few rough corners. Of course, if it were up to me I'd have rehearsed and rehearsed beforehand but the other choristers are pros who just want to run everything once. When I asked to run one of the pieces a second time, one of them said (possibly only half jokingly) "there's some grapes in a bowl over there. Would you like us to peel them for you?"

After Shul, Michael and I went across Hyde Park to the V and A museum to meet Meriel and the gang who had gathered to celebrate her birthday. It was a sizeable group which included Hilary and her brood, Raily and co, Sam Becker (whom I was seeing for the first time since we trekked across America) and even Sam's delightful sister, Katie, who was there with her lot. We spent ages in the jewellery room, which is stunningly presented. Giant glass cabinets are filled with sparkling gems from across the ages, each of which is individually spot lit so it literally shimmers and glows.

We went to the theatre exhibition, which is full of fascinating ephemera, including an ancient star trap from Drury Lane and a jacket that Björn from ABBA once wore.

We had cream teas at Pat Val, before Mez and I headed to the West End to see Dream Girls at the glorious Savoy Theatre, which is, without a doubt, one of the most beautifully appointed theatres in the world. It's genuine Art Deco heaven.

Less heavenly was the show itself. I'll confess to having been a little disappointed after hearing such amazing things about it. Meriel, a massive Glee fan, was rather disappointed to discover Amber Riley wasn't performing, and I would certainly have been interested to see what she was like, but know you often get a better performance from an alternate when a big name is involved.

I think I'm just not the target audience for a show like Dream Girls. I'm not a fan of soul music and I've always found the music for this particular show splashy, dirge-like and ultimately forgettable. This includes the over-sung "And I'm Telling You", which seems to be top of every indulgent singer's set list. The show feels like a juke box musical. There are way too many songs with a profound lack of narrative drive and the plot is flimflam. I genuinely had no interest in the plight of the central characters and felt I was being shouted at by the actors who belted endlessly, doing every vocal trick in the book, till I just wanted them to shut up. It felt presentational. Empty. Impressive, of course, although the lead actress was plainly doing herself some serious vocal damage - but I'm bored of performers who mistake "souling it up" for anything other than deep indulgence. The sound was awful. Loud and tinny. My ears bled.