One of the best feelings in the world is to come to someone’s rescue and I had that sweet and heady experience last night.  First of all, we’re not talking about freeing someone who has been tied to the railroad tracks.  Nor was I responding to someone needing help because they thought they had lost all his pictures in iPhoto – or someone in desperate need of a circular saw to finish up a project – or filling in at first base on the church’s softball team – or needing help with the foot of water they just found in their basement.  In any of those scenarios I’m probably number 7,836 on the list of people you might call.  (If that.)

But if you need someone to fill in at the keyboard, I’m your guy- especially for a complicated musical when there will be no chance for a rehearsal.  I may not be able to play a Beethoven piano concerto for you,  but I can fake my way through almost anything and figure out a way to make it sound at least remotely close to what it’s supposed to be. And if we’re lucky,  we’ll start and finish every piece together- even with young musicians onstage when a proclivity for skipping measures or even entire lines.

The distress call came from the conductor of the summer production of “The Wizard of Oz” by KYPAC – Kenosha Unified’s  musical program.  The production opened Thursday night – and Thursday afternoon I got a desperate call from the conductor who had just found out that her pianist couldn’t play the Friday night performance.  Apparently the pianist had made this clear from the start, but somehow that little bit of information never got relayed to the conductor until the eleventh hour.  Now she found herself in dire straits, having to find someone who could essentially sight read the part and also someone with very good skills for following, jumping ahead when necessary, responding to last minute changes, etc. (The challenges of a pit musician are incredible, and the people who do this well deserve their own ticker tape parade.)

By the time I got home to receive the message, it was Thursday evening – so I called back actually while the opening night performance was going – so I didn’t actually speak to Jessica, the frantic conductor, until yesterday morning.  As it turned out,  I was available- and also interested in doing it since I happen to love this show.  (I was the tin man in Decorah back in grade school, and my brother Steve was the scarecrow when the community theater in Kenyon, MN did the show many years ago.  And more recently, my brother-in-law Matt was the scarecrow and his daughter/my niece Aidan was Toto in a production done by Decorah’s community theater. That production attracted some headlines the day after one performance when – just as the cyclone scene was about to begin- the audience had to be evacuated to the high school locker rooms because of a real- life tornado warning. Really.  Now that director has some connections!)   On top of all that history with the show, I really love the score.  (“You will be a bust, be a bust, be a bust, in the hall of fame” belongs in the pantheon of great music moments next to the Coronation Scene from Boris Godunov.)  And frankly, there is no greater rush than being the person who calmly rescues the show.  I may not be Mr. Fix It or Mr. Athlete or Mr. Computer Whiz,  but by gum I can sight-read!

As it turns out, this was a much tougher gig than I ever imagined it would be.  I know all the songs (Over the Rainbow,  We Welcome you to Munchkinland, If I only had a brain/heart/the nerve,  We’re Off to See the Wizard, etc.) like the back of my hand and knew that playing those would be no problem.  But it never occurred to me that there was music to play for the cyclone scene-  or for the infamous jitterbug scene (which was cut from the film) – or the scene where they kill the witch-  or any number of pieces of music for changing scenes, etc.  This was hard stuff and I’m sure there were moments when the bass player and drummer were wondering What In The World Is He Playing?!?!  But we managed to hold things together because the Show Must Go On, as they say.

By the way,  it was a cute and colorful show. It was  rough around the edges to be sure, as is any production that uses a mix of elementary/middle school and high school students of widely varying ability levels-  and the show was not replete with towering theatrical performances, to put it mildly – but everyone was giving their all, and the little kids were absolutely adorable, whether they were playing Munchkins, flying monkeys, Emerald City citizens, jitterbugs, poppies, or whatever.   And the leads in the cast acquitted themselves quite well.  There are plenty of moments, of course, where you have to sort of grit your teeth and pretend that the wonder you remember from the film is playing out before your eyes. . . but just about any stage production is saddled with that challenge.  (In the production I was in back in Decorah, Marshall played the Wizard of Oz- and in that production, “THE GREAT AND POWERFUL OZ” was Marshall holding an umbrella over his head with a large light green sheet thrown over him. Even back then,  it was not an awe-inspiring bit of stage magic, but hey, you do what you gotta do, and Marshall very spiritedly did his best to look frightening.)   This production actually used projected images very effectively in that scene andfor  the cyclone- and they actually flew the wizard in the balloon scene at the end of the show-  but I think most impressive of all was that they used a real dog as Toto- – – and she didn’t miss a beat all night.

I wish I could say the same for the piano player!

pictured above: a moment from act one, surreptitiously snapped by yours truly from the piano.  I was happy to finally play in a pit where I was positioned to really be able to watch the action.