Monday 6th Feb

Having been pummelled the week before with multitudinous and almost continual line of prize competitions, I was not far from what would have been a thoroughly embarrassing collapse in IT revived only by Mr. Sceery strangely playing  Coldplay throughout the lesson while we toiled over our worksheets. From the McEachran Prize in which my talk about Myanmar failed to impress the judges sufficiently, to the UKIMC (a horrendously luck-reliant maths challenge) in which my luck did not support me at all, to the Arnold Hagger in which I hassled Dr. Oakley to tell me my results in hopes of beating an unnamed Upper 6th Former, over whom I narrowly triumphed last year. Anyway, I hoped for a relaxing week before half term and steadily I went through the lessons with full focus on, an average morning. I thought, ‘Too good to be true,’ and I was correct. A chemistry lesson with Doc. Samworth on organic chemistry forced me into my full concentration mode ignoring any attempts by others to converse with me. Lunch saw the traditional Salopian style of debating preparation, in which my entire team had only prepared on Sunday which worried me a lot. I am trying not to use the word ‘annoyed’. Simultaneously I was meant to be at Kingsland House with fellow elocutionists for the Bentley preliminary rounds for Set 1. Mr. Hann put me through after initially being sceptical by my failing memory before as this was my third attempt and still I hadn’t got it off by heart. Finally after a triumphant Junior House debate against Ridgemount in spite of the lack of preparation and a surprisingly good Benjies session where Mr. Middleton gave me the encouragement I needed to keep trying hard, the day was beginning to look up. The rest of the day was peaceful.

Tuesday 7th Feb

I was blessed with refreshing energy for a Tuesday, only to be met first lesson with a geography test mentioned only the day before. I had revised, but only for a dismal 20 minutes but received a decent mark. The day went on with the usual break time Grot Shop frenzy. The lessons as per usual went by rapidly. I was late for a Fives session by half an hour as I forgot it started at 2:30 for U15s and not 3:00. Whether or not it’s my fault that almost every Fives session starts at half past something or ten to something and other awkward timings, you must make up your mind. After a studious session of Top Schools where I yet again have to steel myself to refuse procrastination as an option, I went to Mr. Sheppe and asked him to listen to my rendition of my poem for the Bentley. I decoded and inferred from his reply a ‘no’, just the way to end the penultimate night before the Bentley.

Wednesday 8th Feb

I felt the usual Salopian morning, an overwhelming sense of debilitation. It must be close to half term. I went to the ritual 4th Form chapel and spent a lot of time debating whether the Bentley was in the Maidment Building or the Ashton Theatre as I had been told both answers on many occasions. The complicated set for the Churchill’s House Play ‘Noises Off’ is all over the Ashton, so I decided it must be the Maidment Building. I was right but Mr. Sheppe had no order for the students, leading him to choose ‘randomly’. He spun, twirled and danced around pointing at students with a typical Mr. Sheppe smile. This put everyone on their toes; it was practically a game of Russian Roulette. After everyone’s performance, we were greeted by Galin Ganchev’s incredible and perfect performance on the piano as a filler to Angus Gordon Banks’, intriguing impromptu interpretation of break dancing. Amusing enough, but not as interesting to me as the results, which showed that I had got through to the finals.

After an extended chapel choir rehearsal and Evensong at Lichfield Cathedral in which Rev. Dobbie set us additional challenges by chanting a few wrong notes, we arrived back at around 8:00, pretty happy with the performance ready to stuff ourselves with Dominos pizzas as what we considered a well-deserved reward.

Thursday 9th Feb

On my knees already, Thursday lessons for me could only be described as dispiriting. I had maths which was the lesson highlight of the day in which Ms. Pile, my maths teacher kindly reminded us, of course, about the compulsory David Harrison competition, yet another prize to work on. Lessons went past with a double organic chemistry lesson in which I could finally and proudly say that I understood the material. Skills Year was my Thursday activity a welcome bit of exercise after an excess of brain activity. I finished my daily 15 minute revision session which I have set myself since Monday for the GCSE Religious Studies end of topic test and ended my day on a better note with a sense of readiness.

Friday 10th Feb

Friday before half term with the routine RS Test in which unsurprisingly time was against me. Why can’t I have extra time? I was a bit worried at first as a fellow anonymous student who was supposed to be marking my paper, had his nose in the textbook instead which he was finding curiously absorbing. In each successive lesson, I observed an increasing amount of jittery movement, boys impatient for half term to start. Finally after I had my session of Fives, I could relax. With Mr. Hudson relaxing the end of first half term bedtimes, I had an extremely late night which would be my undoing on the Saturday morning.

Saturday 11th Feb

Six hours of sleep later, it was Saturday and at an astonishingly sluggish pace I had a shower and got dressed prepared for half term. I collected my bags and left, not realising how heavy folders and books were, I walked far too slowly to the back of KH, and the coach had gone, leaving me marooned at school, a massive ‘chin-up’ as Salopians would say. Fortunately, I was rescued by Mr. Hudson who drove me to the train station where I got myself to my destination. Sleeping (and a bit of studying) will be my main activity for this half term.

Tuesday 31st January
The customary tutor period was followed by lessons, pizza and chips and lying on a sofa in Dayboys feeling slightly unwell. Mr Hann kindly undertook to listen to my speech for the McEachran prize that night, and graciously said that he liked it. I spent the remaining few minutes on his computer, trying to find an appropriate picture of a “slimy thing..with legs”, as specified by Coleridge, but was rewarded at the cost of cutting it pretty fine to RS that afternoon. Gradually getting a bit nervous, I duly turned up to the Moser Library that evening, determined to simply try to enjoy the experience. I was slightly daunted by the standard set – there was not one person who spoke who, in my opinion, was unworthy of the prize. My speech went well, and I felt that whatever happened, I had genuinely done the best that I was capable of. It was, however, rather nice to find later that I had won – sharing the prize with Xavier Greenwood. I did miss Debating Society though– which I would have like to have gone to.

Wednesday 1st February
A half day of lessons, followed by recreational swimming and recreational squash. Taking my crossword to squash, as is generally my wont, I ended up spending an extra hour trying to fathom the cryptic one, whilst Dr Brydon struggled kindly and valiantly to instil some sort of competence in this respect. Such was my engagement that I missed Model United Nations, and was late for tea! I spent the evening doing battle with top schools deferred from Tuesday, and a group of us ended the day with our Christian Discussion Group.

Thursday 2nd February
I had cornflakes for breakfast. I also went to the Barber Institute for Fine Art in Birmingham with the other members of the Art History group, hurrying to the Art Building after French, and from there to the station. The collection was surprisingly good. Mr Reid talked on various pieces and my concentration wavered slightly – especially when I noticed the institute's Canaletto. When it came to “evaluating” I wrote on this and a work by Ingres – a neo-classical painting in which two people who are kissing are being crept up upon by a rather disturbing-looking chap with a dagger. Trains being as they are, we were late back. This meant not only that I missed a play rehearsal, but also that I had to forsake my dinner to get to Chapel Choir on time. This is one of the greater sacrifices I can make, as all who know me will testify. Having overdosed on toast at the house, there was just time to do some top schools, before Christian Forum – at which there was a lot of Nachos and a fairly lively discussion.

Friday 3rd February
A group of dedicated, albeit slightly tired, Salopians arrived at the Maidment Building at 8:30 for a chorus rehearsal for the Magic Flute. I sang bass, Mr Mason was enthusiastic and I tootled off to Physics. My spirits were slightly sapped when I discovered we were drawing graphs for a Skills Assignment, but am pleased to report a full recovery.  Break saw the traditional Grot-Shop foray, followed by RS and my organ lesson. My teacher having tactfully declined to hear my noisy rendition of Tu Es Petrus, we worked on a more reflective piece, and with commendable restraint, the news that I had not practised my Elgar was met level-headedly by my teacher.

Saturday 4th February
I awoke to the disconcerting knowledge that I had been, albeit semi-humorously, press-ganged into a Hunt race. Arriving just after break with a group of dragooned, monosyllabic and Haribo-eating Salopians, we discovered that a series of unforeseen circumstances meant that our participation in this event had to been cancelled, which was rather a mixed blessing. On the one hand, an epic victory would have been good material for this piece, on the other, it was getting rather cold and wet. In compensation Dr Foulger took us out after lunch for a short run, which despite my initial misgivings, I felt much the better for. I spent the afternoon eating a friend's food, listening to his novel and watching Brideshead Revisited. On the way to tea, I had a loud improvise on the chapel organ, and afterwards snuck off in the vain hope of getting some work done. I finished the day with the Grove's house play, and an icy ride home on Rory Fraser's bicycle.

Sunday 5th February
I lay in and was slightly late for church. After lunch the Parental Department plotted a “Post Prandial Perambulation”, and my brother and sister were rapidly conscripted. I returned home sufficiently refreshed to tackle my English  top-schools and then spent a leisurely evening reading Northanger Abbey by the fire in the living room,  listening afterwards to my mother reading the Wade Family choice – Great Expectations. We were all most disturbed to hear about the attack on Mrs Joe.

Monday 6th February
Having survived the exertion of cycling up Kingsland Hill, I was greeted with a Whole School Assembly and a timed essay in English. There was some success for my Junior Debating apprentices in Societies' Hour, and then for myself  - with a personal best of 8:26 in Benjies afterwards. That evening, we managed to get everyone together for a rehearsal for the Dayboys' Play. It is called Art, and is very French - unsurprising given that it was written by a French playwright. It seems, however, that we'll pull it off. It only remains for me to discharge my solemn duty as a true-born Dayboy to recommend very highly that you all come and see it! 

Monday 23rd January
Having got back late from Fives at Eton and Highgate on Sunday followed by directing the house play rehearsal (Brendan Behan’s, The Quare Fellow ) in the evening, it was, in all honesty, a struggle to get up on Monday morning for a meeting with the headmaster alongside Will and Henry, the head and co-deputy head of school, (8:15 really does feel like the small hours when it’s still dark outside). Inconveniently I do have a PR (either Private Reading, or Personal Relaxation, depending on how you look at it) so a lie-in was lost. However, the free time meant that I could catch up on some of the work that I hadn’t done because of play rehearsals which extended late into the night, and the further time spent building the set (something I’m sure west-end directors, or Mr Fanning for that matter, don’t have to do). On Monday afternoon I conducted an experiment: Was it possible to go from Shrewsbury to Wolverhampton and back on the train between lunch and period 6, and pick up costumes as well? The answer was a resounding ‘no’. I found the costume warehouse (with a little help from my Mum, who works with my Dad in Wolverhampton) and arrived at the train station just in time, but it turned out that carrying it all back from the station on my own was hardly convenient. I arrived very late for period 6 (French) and hadn’t quite done the essay either… Monday evening brought the tech rehearsal for the play, an affair which was as stressful as expected, and apparently taught Mr Portier a few new words! We left the theatre at 1 am, very worried, because the wood for the other two Prison cells we were building for our set had not turned up!

Tuesday 24th January
A slightly more subdued day. The snooze button on the alarm clock took a serious beating, and at 20 to 9, I got up, quickly performed some running repairs on my bike, and got to period one just in time. After a quick game of fives that afternoon, I went to the theatre to arrange everything for our proto-dress rehearsal that night. It was still very worrying; would the actors have learnt their lines? Did we have all the props and costumes? Were the lights and sound sorted? And, most worryingly, would our ‘prisoners’ turn up? (You know who you are.) As it was, the rehearsal went well; the only major culprit, who has yet to pay his £3.50 fine, was my younger brother Tom. His entrance came. His entrance went. His character remained ethereally non-existent. I found him tucked in a corner backstage watching a film on his laptop, and promptly abused some power in order to confiscate the laptop from him. Finished that evening with further set construction, and a stint with Adam Foster, editing photos for the poster. Things were beginning to look promising.

Wednesday 25th January
The morning of the dress rehearsal proper. I can honestly say that I’ve never been so nervous about a play, but yet again the cast pulled it off. I spent the morning first doing a chapel duty, and then created more excuses for not handing in work! The only real concern afterwards was the exhaustion of the cast, which I hoped that an early (10:30 ish) night would rectify. Oh, and the fact that the stage was still not finished! I stayed in the theatre with a conscript of painters from the fifth form (amongst whom was my younger brother, who seemed more interested in painting ‘D.R.F.C’ onto everything, than painting a door bright red as I had asked him!) Despite a titanic effort, the stage however, was not done by the time we went to bed, at about 2 am!

Thursday and Friday
Unusually for a house play, neither of our performances let us down (it really was a relief to not spend the second night trying to make up for the first). Obviously, there were a few hitches, considering that the play had been put together in only two and a half weeks, but there were some good performances: Arthur Fearnall was confident and flamboyant as the patriarchal prisoner, Dunlavin, his younger brother Stamos, along with Ed Harrison, both making their Ingram’s stage debuts were terrific, and worryingly convincing as two more prisoners. Kiran Morjaria gave an authoritative performance as Warder Regan, helped by another newcomer, Rob Treasure. Regan’s ‘Meths-rubbing’ scene with Dunlavin was a real highlight! The two young prisoners also were as irritating as intended, and both Tom Flowers and Joe Bell ought to be looking to perform more in the years to come. Peter Evans, as the snappy Prison chief, despite his confessed stage fright, left no doubt as to the ‘bloody stupidity’ of the warders, and, in the end, seemed far more confident than he himself had forecast. There were naturally a few negatives (probably more from my point of view than the audience’s) audibility was sometimes an issue, and occasionally, perhaps due to such a short rehearsal period, people seemed slightly uncomfortable in their presence on stage. The star-performance, however, must go to Joe Bell, (sorry Dimitri – the cameo chef falls into second place!) who was incredibly funny and energetic in his portrayal of Dunlavin’s elderly Neighbour; a furious poking walking stick accompanied him round the stage, and he seemed very at ease with what was going on elsewhere. Two other prisoners deserve a mention; Sam Welti and Max Mason, both playing prisoners whom we first meet out in the exercise yard, who, in the end, proved both funny, and moving as the play descended into its darker finale, despite having been ‘economical’ on attending rehearsals! Technically, the play was difficult to pull together; the final bars went up on the cell walls about an hour before Thursday’s performance, and the stage was painted again with about half an hour to go. Huge credit therefore must go to Dan Hurcomb, and Bruce Maitland, who drilled about 300 metres of wood together (when you include all the bars etc) in order to construct our four 3m x 2m x 2m prison cells). As with last year’s Ingram’s production Calvin Chan’s lighting provided some stylish touches and helped to lower the mood, as the final scene approached. As a final point, it is worth noting that Ed Grant, who played Holy Healey, was in bed suffering with a migraine for most of Friday, and, despite my request to the san to kindly ‘sort him out’, things did not look completely positive. Yet the show must go on, and Ed (‘Lid’ to his mates) was just as amusing as ever as the bumbling prison inspector. Described by one critic as a ‘cool show’, this production of The Quare Fellow has been a pleasure to be in charge of, and, as my last play in the Ashton theatre, also quite emotional. The after play pizza, which went on even longer than the stage painting sessions (!) was richly deserved by all.

Saturday 28th January
Coach Weekend, and thank god for that! I slept straight through, and nearly missed my first lesson, quickly ran over to Quod to hand out some posters for the sixth from options fair, and then dashed back to the Alington Hall to watch a lecture by John Hoskinson, a former pro golfer who unfortunately killed a cyclist whilst drink-driving and served three years in prison. It was a very moving lecture, which brought a poignant end to the week. As I left for home, I grabbed my Fives gloves, ready for a trip down to Eton the next day to play in the Under 21s tournament. God I need some sleep!

Monday 16th January 
Hurray, it is Week A, which means I only teach 5 lessons on a Monday and not 7.  The inmates of School House might notice that stress levels get slightly higher on the Sunday night before Week B when time is at a premium.  Still this Monday I am very chirpy.  Young Reggie is deposited at nursery with the usual bribe of a marshmallow to help sweeten the bitter pill that is a morning at one of the loveliest nurseries in the world, where the cuddles with the beautiful toddler tamers are prolific, affectionate and I get slightly jealous.  The reason I am chirpy is that I have completed my fifth form Mock GCSE marking despite organising a play rehearsal on Sunday night and I have plenty to talk about in my double lessons.  A quick bite for lunch; once again the culinary geniuses at KH have foiled my plans to shed pounds after the festive period and then straight into a Housemasters’ meeting where matters of high level security are discussed and I could not possibly divulge any of our secrets for fear of immediate execution! All I can say that one of the topics of conversation was whether Christmas Dinner should continue in its present form. The general consensus was that it should and I was able to report that Father Christmas certainly enjoyed himself.  Then it is back to the House to extricate the non-sporty for various nefarious activities and time to quickly walk the blind dog (Ted) and my two ankle biters.  A lesson on Miracles finishes the afternoon, the miracle being no-one goes to sleep despite it being Period 7 and just after 6.00 pm.  A leisurely walk back to the House means my poor wife has accomplished most of the bath time chores and I appear as ‘Fun Dad’ for stories and romping! “No you can’t have another story Reggie because it is time for Dix”, where I urge my troops to greater heights of brilliance and lead them into top schools. Then it is a play rehearsal at 8.30pm, we are wrestling with the Diary of Adrian Mole. The cast and I enjoyed watching a clip of the 80s TV show on YouTube to put us in the mood and we all decide we are not going to attempt the Leicestershire accent.  Then it is time to send everyone to bed and eventually I too wend my weary way away from my final game of Solitaire to the Land of Nod.

Tuesday 17th January
An early start as both Reggie and Edie seem to think the day should begin just before 6.00am.  The advantage of this is that I am able to finish my Fourth Form marking courtesy of my saintly wife dressing the infants.  Edie, my 14 month old daughter, is very keen to wake up all the boys and is particularly chatty this morning which is always good as it means I have to say less when I walk into the bedrooms.  We stop and admire a picture of cows grazing in a meadow and I detect her first efforts to formulate a ‘moo’.  Have I remembered to remind all those on AD to go? No.  Luckily they all remember anyway.  It is into lessons; going through papers is always tedious as the poor fourth formers find out.  Then my efficient and wondrous secretary Jane comes in to ensure that the Swiss Clock otherwise known as School House is as well-oiled and as efficient as ever.  In the afternoon I sauntered past the Fives leagues to see School House valiantly and courageously challenging the might of Ingrams.  I return to the classroom again for a late session of going through past papers and attempting to keep people awake, and once again it is back to bath time and story reading.  The disappointment of the evening was that the big FA cup game, Wrexham v. Brighton, was cancelled due to a frozen pitch.  I had managed to obtain a ticket despite the massive draw of the mighty Seagulls but unfortunately I know I will not be able to go tomorrow night as Mrs Bell is out, there is a play rehearsal booked and I am not sure I can build myself up again for an evening of such excitement.

Wednesday 18th January
It is ‘Whittle’ Wednesday in School House. My fantastic deputy Housemistress marches round waking the boys up on my behalf and I get a lie in until 7.00am.  Wednesday is a good morning, there is little in the way of teaching to be done and there is time to take Reggie to and from nursery.  Upon his return he admires the new painting I have purchased. It is a large ‘Purser’ called ‘Monsoon’ and looks fantastic on our dining room wall.  Mrs Bell questioned the sense of the purchase as she considers the size of the house we will be moving into in the future unlikely to have walls big enough to do it justice. But she does confess to liking it.  Reggie too is impressed and is keen for his artwork to be hung alongside the new master.  You can now see an A4 brown splodge on our wall which of course is entitled ‘Muddy Puddle’.  I think Reggie would cite Peppa Pig as a major influence.  The afternoon is spent dealing with minor irritants, dishing out money and permission to venture into Shropshire’s capital city.  The Brighton/Wrexham kick off is a 7.15 one which conflicts with Dix.  I am more concise than usual and get to see the majority of the first half on ESPN, the excellent Wrexham goal which sends shivers down my spine. Adrian Mole continues apace, pace being the operative word and I am back in front of the TV for extra time, Brighton having managed to equalise against the run of play. My co-director, James Humpish comes to discuss the play’s progress but it soon becomes clear he will get no sense from his Housemaster until after the penalty shoot-out. The elation of the 5-4 victory to the South coast supremoes means that James gives up and accepts the inevitable postponement of the meeting until another day as it is time for the bedtime march round and the attempt to prevent tired eyes from staying open to watch films they have already seen about 50 times already.

Thursday 19th January
Another early start and an attempt to kick tired boys out of bed and down to breakfast. It is sixth form chapel and one or two of the ungodly are hoping not to go as they have AS retakes, the things people will do to get out of chapel!  This week the chaplain has rented out his talk spot to Dr Elliot who is trying to convince us that Christianity and happiness can be linked. A couple more miraculous lessons with my delightful lower sixth set who provide me with great entertainment courteousy of their presentations on miracles, and then it is lunch. The evening highlight is the presentation to prospective parents in the Ashton Theatre. I arrive late having found myself besieged by boys who have been saving up their problems for an inconvenient moment. I trudge wearily down the avenue of trees feeling very much yesterday’s man as I know few will be attracted to a House where the present incumbent has already completed nearly thirteen years for the sands of time are fast moving. I cheer up when a glass of wine is thrust my way by a helpful sixth former (in the Ashton theatre I hasten to add!). I am surprised by several old university faces and nearly remember their names – not bad as we have not seen each other for over twenty years! Mr Case and the Headmaster are on fine form and despite the lack of sleep and glass of wine I find myself awake throughout the talks, I am almost convinced to put my son down for the school until I remember he is already here! Then it is back to the House and time to pop round irritating the inhabitants, (after my glass of wine I believe myself to be on good form - a belief not universally shared).

Friday 20th January
I wish my kids would sleep in until 6:30am. Edie and I wake everyone up again, her mooing continues to improve! Nothing very exciting happens in the morning aside from taking Reggie to nursery. Jane my secretary is in to sort everything out and keep accounts happy!  I hear that we may have a new boy starting with us on Sunday. He likes cricket so he must be civilised. Friday evening and at Dix I mention that ‘Fraping’ (altering facebook accounts that do not belong to you) people is illegal. I feel that my gravitas is having the desired effect until my deputy head of House reminds us all that I ‘fraped’ him last term and laughter ensues! (I only wrote in ‘I love my Housemaster’). Wondrous Whittle is back on duty and I go the Lion and Pheasant to celebrate a friend’s birthday. Scallops! Fantastic!

Saturday 21st January
A sting in the tail of the week - I teach four lessons. I then go for a walk in the wind and watch hockey, football and rugby. There are School House representatives on every pitch and I wait until they notice I was there! (I even watched the Ist XV Ricardo!). Despite the fact that there are three XVs playing it is only the one broken finger for matron to visit casualty with! The footballers are learning about the gulf in class between professional and amateur football as they leak in a few goals to Shrewsbury Town’s under 17s and the hockey lads are having a successful afternoon against Ellesmere.

Then it is back for a cup of tea and a check on the results. An away victory for Brighton and Shrewsbury town beat the division leaders. On top of that my Telegraph Fantasy league team are back up to 70th as Dempsey scores three! I entertain an American lady and her son for tea. Jack is a most impressive young man I hope he comes to Shrewsbury. I escort them back to the excellent Hambrook House B and B and then it is time to go and celebrate at a 40th birthday party and once again leave all the work to Miss Whittle. Before I go I have to admonish some sixth formers for their lack of judgement. They have been caught watching Liverpool play Bolton…..enough said!!!

I am back to check that no one had as good a time as I did and I am relieved to find that is the case!

Sunday 22nd January
The day of rest!!! Granny has had the nippers for a sleep over but I could not enjoy the lie in as my body clock kicks in and I wake up at 7am. It is chapel out so it is time to cook croissant for 80 boys from 9:30 until 10:30am. The fire alarm decides to play up and we have to call in Ron to sort it out, always a popular Sunday phone call!

After we have cleared up the Hall it is nearly time for lunch! Haggis and the traditional Scottish fare! Robbie Burns would have been proud! Eldest son Joe returns from Ingrams for a moment of family life. Reggie is having a ‘toddler tantrum day’ I don’t know where he gets it from! Then it is over to the music school to watch numerous School House songsters take part in the Junior School Singing competition. It is won by a School House chorister! I cannot see the intermediates as I have to meet up with my latest recruit to school House. He arrives at 4:30pm and we have a cup of tea and sort out the few questions the family have. They leave around 6pm and give me a home-made curry which was a very welcome present. Then it is bath time for the ‘tinker bells’ and story time followed by a play rehearsal. It seems to be going well and we make good progress. Dix is lacking in inspiration but everyone is there. Then it is bed time and a lengthy wander round. At 11:30 I notice no one has done lock ups so I do it myself as it ultimately saves time. Then I have a quick think about what to teach in my horror Monday of 7 lessons. It is lucky I did so much preparation over the holidays! That takes me until quite late! Still time for a quick solitaire fix and thence to bed!

Monday [16th January], got back to school after a stressful yet intensly satisfying week of ‘What You Will’ing. Humph... four days then I’ve got 3 exams, not to forget Sunday. The day I play with the big Papa Pople… Finally got him to clean off those mothballs from his Cello.

Before I get stuck in to the first week back I’d like to take you back a few days to tell you not only of the life I have at Shrewsbury School, but of what happens at my London pad and what I was doing for the school, before even going back to school… Having a house in London is great, especially when you’ve got your own studios to do some practice in! (downstairs and hang a left). So my dad and I were practicing away on the good old Beethoven Clarinet Trio, and of course I was mucking up notes left, right and centre. We stop and my dad says ‘could have been worse?’ (We got a lot of work to do…). Which then leads on to two maybe three days of practice in the holidays, and of course I am a really busy guy, especially in the holidays when there’s lots of friends around etc. Wednesday [11th January] I finally make it to school just in time for some rehearsals of ‘What You Will’, meet Mr Moore and Prof. Fanning, and we’re underway without as much as a quick breath before beginning. And I am thinking why did I have to say yes to this. The music was hard. Especially when the music was being played at full speed and I was pretty much the only person who hasn’t played it before. Of course Mr Moore has written the piece with 7 double sharps with about 3 bars rest in total and of course I’m switching between clarinet and alto saxophone, did I metion that bit already? Being serious though, I am truly glad that I did it in the end because it was definitely a memorable sight to see an almost full Britten theatre of roughly 300 people on the Saturday night. So that was my version of the ‘What You Will’ experience, felt like quite a ride.

The Sunday after, my dad and I dragged Mr Moore and Robbie Gibbs (Violinist) over to get some proper jamming sessions in. To be honest it sounded a lot better than I thought it would, because when we all started to play, we seemed to have a pretty good feel of where we were in the music in relation to one another. Which, if you ask me, is kinda the most important bit of group music, but at least we had that much going for us (us being me, my dad and Mr Moore). Robbie, my dad and Mr Moore did their own separate Mendelsohn and Haydn trios, which sounded pretty amazing.

Got to back to school on the Monday, which is a huge relief to be able to miss Monday morning lessons, but instead we had Assembly on the Tuesday morning… fun. Had my good old triple PR from 3-5 on the Tuesday, which can always be a bit of a stress reliever. In which I managed to do some music practice, not only for the Beethoven concert but also some practice for my diploma which I plan to either take this term or the next. Not to forget that next term I have my A2 exams.

Wednesday and Thursday were a breeze in comparison to rest of my week having a few pieces of work to hand in only, and again being able to get some practice in. I was also revising for my 3 exams on Friday. Two maths and a Chemistry exam. By the way, all of this IS quite normal for a Shrewsbury lad and can happen on the first week back at school, as I am proving.

Friday came along and I’ll be honest when I say that all the revision I did felt like it paid off. I felt tired, yet very happy and relieved after the exams were over. I had a bit of free time in the afternoon followed by clarinet quartet in the evening at 6.30 to rehearse for the competition; Procorda.

Saturday morning was quite relaxed, and I got a very useful rehearsal in with Mr Moore, in which we finally figured out what needed to be at what speed. I found out that Mr Moore had what people might call a ‘solid’ (very hard) part, so we eventually slowed down the music just a little bit. Saturday evening was fun, but who needs to go into detail about their Saturday nights…

Then along came Sunday, the big day of the concert. The exams on Friday pretty much felt like nothing in comparison to the nerves I had on Sunday. The day started out with me saying ‘Hello’ to my mum and grandma who came all the way from London and Edinburgh (respectively). This ‘Hello’ consisted of me going all the way to Hereford to load a stove into my mum’s car. After this we had a quickish run through of the Beethoven, which sounded alright, but I seemed to have quite a bit of time to kill afterwards, so I went back School House and did my classic cool-off rountine of gaming. I’m not proud of it, but I did it. I was fully prepared and ready for the concert to start, and when it did start it felt great from the get go. The concert itself was really quite moving for me, because it was the first time I’ve ever played a piece of music publicly with my dad, and it was also the biggest concert I’ve ever done at Shrewsbury School. In other words this felt pretty big to me. The best part was that I felt so proud to have my dad play the Cello in a concert like that with me, and I thought that he sounded pretty darn amazing.

Please also see Martin Knox's review of the 'Pople & Son' concert, and its foot-stamping ovation.

Gus Haynes played the role of Antonio in the School’s production of What You Will – which was staged for a full and enthusiastic audience at the Britten Theatre at the Royal College of Music in London last weekend.

Gus had received some excellent press during the Edinburgh run.  ‘Gus Haynes as Antonio is sincere and faultless, and his vocal performance is possibly the best of the piece,’ wrote one reviewer. Whilst another described his performance ‘emotionally charged…. for once it didn't seem oddly under-developed. Gus Haynes's solo brought shivers to my spine.’

Here he describes what it was like to be on the road again.

Day One: 3rd January 2012
It was a year and a half ago that we first began rehearsing for What You Will, another Fanning and Moore musical, and their last collaboration, and it amazes me that even though it took virtually a whole term to get the first performances up to scratch, it only took three hectic days in Shrewsbury to do the same last week. It was particularly exciting to resume work on the musical after our successful (and stressful) stint at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival in August, especially as I hadn’t seen much of the cast (those in last year’s Upper Sixth) since then. I travelled up from home in the morning through driving rain and gale force winds and was greeted by the familiar sight of Messrs Fanning and Moore directing practices that were already in full swing. It was wonderful to catch up and have a chat before Mr Fanning launched us into another round of singing and choreography, although I could tell that the director sensed a definite lack of focus - which there certainly was!

Day Two: 4th January 2012
Despite the fact that the first day of practice was beset by seemingly endless waves of giggles and tomfoolery, progress was being made, as we had all had the songs ingrained into our memories the previous summer before the Fringe; for most of us it was like riding a bike. However, there were a few new faces in the chorus and band, as well as the absences of others. Nevertheless, it was a joy to revisit the various shanties, sword-fights and heart-rending duets that What You Will brings. Having gained several five-star reviews from the Fringe, the solid professionalism of the production was bound to show up eventually, for fits of laughter still seemed to be somewhat prevalent; we were all striving to stave off the giggles every time the line “I exposed myself” came along! Fortunately a semblance of maturity began to form as we realised just how much pressure we were under. After all, this was the last Fanning and Moore production ever, and so we would need to dig deep in order to do those reviews justice.

Day Three: 5th January 2012
More giggles. They simply kept coming, an issue that was particularly serious as a camera crew had arrived to film a DVD of the musical. Fortunately Will [Hunter] had kept himself in remarkably good order, as it had been his 18th birthday celebration the night before, an event which, sadly but also sensibly, we were forbidden from attending - Mr Fanning’s orders! Although there were several different takes for various scenes, I hope that Moore’s music will be captured on the screen (if you’ll pardon the cliché) in as magical a way as it deserved to be, and we retired to Churchill’s, with instructions to take rest and be punctual for the coach to London at 11:30 the next morning.

Day Four: 6th January 2012
The realisation that we would be performing in just over 24 hours’ time dawned on us as we stepped onto the coach bound for London, and after several rather uncomfortable hours, we arrived in Kensington at Baden-Powell House, where we would spend that night. After dropping our bags off at the hostel, we performed a rapid turnaround and marched straight to the Britten Theatre at the Royal College of Music, where we were finally greeted with our venue. Despite getting lost several times in the labyrinthine depths of the Royal College of Music, and being daunted at first, several practices allowed us to become acquainted with the theatre and its new dimensions, and as the seemingly tireless technical crew had arrived there earlier, there was no need for another of the exhausting get-ins that had faced us daily in Edinburgh. We were set for our final dress rehearsal, which went altogether smoothly (although those mischievous giggles did make a brief appearance). With strict orders to comport ourselves with restraint that night, we retired to the hostel to get some much-needed rest.

Day Five: 7th January 2012
The big day had arrived, and after a breakfast of astronomical proportions I felt as ready as I would ever be for what lay ahead, and after evacuating the hostel by 10am we hastened to the theatre for some last-minute practice. After endless sound and lighting checks we were set to perform, and so after an emotionally-charged pep talk from Mr Fanning (although he probably wouldn’t want me to mention the tears that were shed) and an explosive warm-up from Mr Moore, we took to the wings and steeled ourselves for the matinée. The audience of 80 was smaller than those we had played to at the Fringe, but nevertheless it had to be one of, if not the best performance of What You Will we had done. Despite much applause and congratulations the trial was not over yet, and after a quick meal with the family (still with my make-up on so I caught a few odd looks), I returned to the theatre for round two. The adrenaline was now truly pumping. We knew that we were performing in front of a capacity audience, and nerves began to shred as the auditorium filled. With baited breath we huddled in the wings, the lights came down, the band began playing and we strode on for the first scene.

The performance was, from our perspective at least, flawless. I hope Messrs Fanning and Moore thought so too, as it was their last hurrah, the stunning conclusion to their tenure that has spanned almost twenty years! The comments after the show were utterly praising of Mr Moore’s composition and Mr Fanning’s direction, varying from wishes for a recorded album to a tour of the USA! As members of the cast, we felt enormously privileged at having been selected for the Fanning-Moore Hail Mary, and especially to have been able to perform in such a distinguished and exclusive venue. The 18 months we have spent on this masterpiece have certainly been an adventure, with friendships made experiences shared, and although he isn’t gone yet, we all wish Mr Fanning a very happy retirement! After he’s helped with the house play of course - his work is never done!

Please see our 2011 'In the words of our pupils' page.