It’ been a long three days in Manchester Museum, but possibly three of the most fulfilling days I can remember.
Allow me to set the scene. At this moment in time, I am sat in The Footage bar, up the road from the museum. With me are Dan, Boff and Josh, Tim the filmmaker, Jake the performer, and Tom, Tina and Sarah from People United. The England match is about to start on the big screen, and everyone has a well deserved pint in front of them. Looking at us, you’d never be able to guess how we know each other. You’d never be able to guess that we’d spent our Satirday running around a museum with five choirs and generally making the city a brighter place.
I’m feeling poetic and social, so even though this will be a pretty post, it will be a short one. We did two performances of Wonderstruck today, and people loved it. Really loved it. I wish, in a way, that I could be an oblivious audience member for a day, just to be there.
There was a crush of people in the audience for the second performance, and you could see a slight panic in the eyes of the museum staff as they watched the audience try to fit in the gallery. But they did fit. And nothing is more fun than being a sleeper agent, bursting into song behind people who think they’re safe at the back. I think I scared Boff’s mum.
I will write more about this later, when I’m not using my broken phone or being antisocial. So I will end with this: Wonderstruck is happening at Manchester Museum, and you have one day to see it. One day to experience the wonder that I can guarantee will stay with you for a while afterwards. I heard that there’s singing. I heard there’s storytelling. I’ve heard it’s amazing.