Holidaying in the pit

Being musical director for My Fair Lady in Invercargill has been a summer vacation job for Luke Di Somma. STEVE MASON joins him in the pit for a performance, and talks to him about his study in New York.

Luke Di Somma sits at the piano in the Civic Theatre rehearsal room, surrounded by cast members in various states of makeup, costume and hair.

It's warmup time before a performance.

Working at the double-time pace they have come to expect with this young Christchurch man, he pushes them through a frenetic set of scales and exercises to get their vocal cords and facial muscles properly warmed up.

One is a simple round that, split into four parts, takes on the beauty of a majestic choral work. The sound fills the space briefly until Di Somma leaps into action directing a random clapping game designed to both distract their nerves and sharpen their senses.

The warmup lasts 15 minutes.

After a few more instructions, he heads down four flights to the orchestra pit, checking all his musicians are ready, before taking 10 minutes to get into his dress tails and focus his mind on the job.

Like many kids of his generation, 25-year-old Di Somma was 7 when he was nudged into flute lessons by parents, journalists David and Liz, keen for their son to have a balance of arts and sports.

His real musical education began at Cashmere High where he grabbed every chance going, like joining the jazz band two months after picking up a sax. One of his compositions was highly commended in a chamber music competition.

Encouraged by the music teacher to do shows, he arranged and conducted five numbers for a pantomime with Canterbury Children's Theatre. He was off. He wrote and musically directed student shows at Canterbury University, and went against the flow in the third year of his music degree by writing a musical.

He should have been doing "serious" composition; musical theatre was viewed as populist tosh, far from pushing the boundaries expected of degree students.

"It was risky it was purely recreational, mostly for my own benefit."

Although he decided he didn't really belong in the world of classical composition, where much of the music was academic and out of reach of the untrained ear, he went on to do an honours year at Victoria in Wellington, again in composition but with more focus on conducting.

Midyear, he heard about a programme in New York for writers for musical theatre. It was another chance to be grabbed.

He returned to Christchurch as musical director for a production of the musical Rent, and found he had been shortlisted for the graduate musical theatre writing programme at New York University's Tish School of Arts.

Ten days after being interviewed in New York, he flew home with an acceptance letter and a few ideas how he could raise the $180,000 to pay for the two-year programme. It took a year of fundraisers and "doing music" - The Full Monty in Christchurch, Les Miserables at Rangiora, Hot Shoe Shuffle with director Bryan Aitken (who also directed Invercargill's My Fair Lady) and scoring pieces for the Court Theatre.

Winning a Fulbright Scholarship gave him credibility that opened a lot of pockets.

He started at the school in late August last year as one of 16 composers on the programme, alongside 17 studying lyrics. Fourteen of the 33 are from outside the United States.

'They were warned to expect a "gnome on speed" and they weren't disappointed'

There's happy banter with the musos and cast in the Invercargill show.

One says they were warned to expect a "gnome on speed" and they weren't disappointed. But his stature is more hobbit-like than gnomish and a kinder analogy for his drive would be the energiser bunny.

Di Somma has a happy, relaxed approach with everyone. They enjoy working with him. His pace is infectious.

The comments about him are glowing: wonderful to work with, excellent music background, great people skills.

Putting on a musical is the most collaborative process around, he says, with the central team of the director, musical director and choreographer having to work together before even bringing in the designers, stage manager, lighting, sound and marketing.

The programme has taught Di Somma heaps about working with people.

In a system horribly like those reality chef and fashion designer shows on television, each composer has to collaborate with a different lyricist every week.

The theme one week might be duets; their place in musicals, why they are needed, where to put them, how to structure them, how to make them work, what form they take. That week's assignment would be for each pair to write a duet based on a set work, such as a novel or a play.

"Some collaborations are fantastic some are awful."

Each piece is performed for the six core faculty staff and the other students.

"The feedback was initially pretty daunting. I remember my very first piece, this other student said `I found that quite boring'.

"I get defensive just ask my mother about that. Not offended, but defensive."

He has developed a tougher skin and learned from the process, particularly the ability to work with a different writer every week, many with a completely different approach. Just agreeing on a style can be a big deal.

They develop their craft during the process, and learn to negotiate and bargain.

Di Somma walks through the audience, down a narrow flight of stairs into the pit, the dark cave-like space below the Civic stage inhabited by the orchestra. The actors can't see the musicians and vice-versa. The musical director, standing on a platform in the pit, is the link between the two, keeping it all exactly on the right beat, on the right page.

With a quick up-beat of his baton, the orchestra launches into the overture and the house lights dim. Di Somma smiles gently to show it's going well, gives someone a thumbs-up after a tricky entrance.

His hands set the speed, give the cues, mark the emphasis, keep everyone together; his face constantly encourages as he wills them all to give their best.

After spending two months drilling the music into this cast like a scrum coach, he's determined to get the best out of them.

During the dialogue he stands relaxed, hands in pockets or sitting on a high stool, laughing at the jokes like it's the first time he's heard them. But it's clear as he mouths some of the lines he knows the show backwards.

My Fair Lady was one of the four musicals dissected at the New York school this year, along with South Pacific, Guys and Dolls and Gypsy.

They also studied the history of musical theatre and the "book" the story on which the musical is based.

This is a prestigious school. One of the guest speakers this year was Elton John.

"He was so honest about himself."He spoke for two hours about his life and his music; was modest about his success in musical theatre, saying he was a novice with only three shows to his name, including Lion King and the musical version of Billy Elliot.

Di Somma catches a show whenever he can in the New York theatre district of Broadway, which has 39 theatres. There are also the shows in many smaller theatres known as off-Broadway, and then there are all the shows outside New York.

In a financially practical move, he decided to come home during his summer break to earn some money rather than pig out on Broadway.

He missed a chance to do Miss Saigon in Napier but was happy to come to Invercargill for My Fair Lady.

One of the musicians reads a New Scientist magazine, another writes in a book. A third is so engrossed in a book on historic leaders ("You never know when it will be handy for a pub quiz") that Di Somma has to nudge him back to life by tapping his baton gently on his music stand. No growly looks, just that gentle tap.

He brings the orchestra in on cue with a strong, clear beat. A slight puff of the cheeks after a tricky entry shows he's satisfied.

At half time he's smiling, happy that the show is going well, giving encouragement to keep up the energy. While most of the musicians stay in their room, he goes up for a cuppa with the cast.

He flies back to New York in two weeks for a year devoted to writing a musical. He has been teamed up with a woman from Philadelphia as his lyricist. A happy pairing.

The process for finding a working partner like something from Survivor was less than happy. The students spent two weeks auditioning each other before handing in a top-nine list. The faculty had the final say.

The pairs have to come up with two ideas, an original concept and an adaptation, and write a couple of songs for each. The faculty then decide which idea the pair will develop into a full musical for final assessment.

The struggle for writers, particularly composers, is to come up with something new and fresh.

"Some people say nothing is new any more," he says.

"We are a product of everything we absorb. Being innovative means bringing two or three of those things together."

Other classes continue, including one called Life in the Theatre, which teaches the students how to manage themselves and protect their work.

While the focus is on writing this musical, he's got other ideas he will keep for later. Three in particular, although he won't talk about those in detail.

Armed with a masters degree, he'll probably come back to New Zealand for at least two years to throw himself into writing and working as a musical director.

He has no voice link with the stage manager backstage so is driving blind

Despite only four band practices in Invercargill before moving into the Civic with the cast, the musicians are in no doubt about what he wants. His beat and directions are very clear, even down to a pat on the head that means "play it again because the scene change is taking longer than usual".

A little later, he realises one of the leads needs a couple of extra beats off stage to get a drink so pulls the pace back before giving the cue.

It's an energetic performance as musical director like an upper-body aerobics workout. The gestures are large, specially when the full cast is on stage for a big chorus number.

He has no voice link with the stage manager backstage so is driving blind, relying on experience and intuition.

One idea he wants to bring back from the US is concert performances of shows.

Take just the music and perform it. Much cheaper to stage and hugely popular. He'd also like to bring some of the popular US musicals never produced here to expose them to Kiwi audiences.

He also talks eagerly about using some of the smart, but simple, marketing he has picked up.

He laments that many of the drama and performing arts students he's met in the city can't afford to see the sort of productions they are working towards. Open up the gallery, he says, and sell the seats for $15 to the first 100 students who turn up.

A strong supporter of amateur theatre, he noted the school production of Fiddler On the Roof he saw in Christchurch a couple of weeks back.

"I didn't think I was going to enjoy it but it was great."

He was not so positive about the version of Superstar he saw in Gore this month, mainly for what he saw as performers not being pushed to their potential.

This business is his future and he's passionate about it. He doesn't know where it will take him, but will keep grabbing every opportunity he can, be it in Christchurch, New York or London.

There are few enough people making a living from musical theatre here that there is room for him to make his mark, even to create his own production company to mount show and concerts that groups like Showtime Christchurch and Invercargill Musical Theatre are not prepared to take a risk with.

Di Somma talks enthusiastically about all facets of musicals, his drive to make a career out of composing shows and being a musical director.

It's impossible not to be infected by his warmth and excitement about the future.

He has a simple aim: Creating an experience for the audience.

The show ends, the cast takes their bows and acknowledge the musicians in the pit.

The orchestra plays the final piece as the audience leave, some clustered around the edge of the pit to see what happens down there.

The musicians quickly pack up and head for home, pleased they have put in another performance to please their master, a demanding man who readily gives back in praise and encouragement. A man they clearly like working with.

Maybe one day they will be doing a show with his name on it.

- © Fairfax NZ News