The magic of Pippin – frankly, who knew?

Had anyone outside the inner circle of musical theatre appreciation heard of Pippin before this term?  A tasty – if esoteric – little apple?  An affectionate nickname? No: apparently the son of the great warrior overlord Charlemagne, celebrated musically in a slightly alternative show from the 1970s.  Yes. Really. Surely I was not alone in both my ignorance, and consequent surprise, at what emerged in the now iconic Hurtwood Christmas musical: a fabulous company piece, packed with joyous music and dance, boasting a richly ironic and satirical text, and yes indeed, much needed distraction.

So welcome to Pippin.  Hitting the stage with as much ticker tape and panache as expectation, and inaugurating a brand-new directorial era, it most certainly did not disappoint.  Powered by the collective energy and talents of over a hundred students it beguiled us all, from first to last, with ‘theatre, the magic of’.  Welcome to a celebration of, well, sheer glorious ordinariness.  You heard it here.  And didn’t we love it!

With full-on energy, turbo-charged talent from both the collective company and some quite extraordinary individual performances, the resulting show, played out over the final two weeks of term.  Facing down the inevitable accidents, incidents, ill-health and sheer exhaustion, we were challenged, entertained, and enthralled.  From the playful, disembodied hands that lured us in, to every kind of theatrical gymnastic trickery, to the eloquent closure on a blank and empty stage, it was a rollercoaster.

All praise as ever must go to the amazing, silent professional genii behind the production, so let’s start with those who continue to facilitate the whole experience.  As ever, Al and his team gave us a set of alternately austere and gaudy proportion: practical, accommodating and robust, but always suggesting the ephemeral.  For the final time in this role, Elizabeth, with her wardrobe team, created all the visual fun of the fair, even while suggesting a slightly woozy combo between 1970s glamour and the more edgy world of the circus, blending bold block colours with contrasting stripes and spots, and contrasting with the occasional and marginalised pattern.  Musically, the show was truly epic: Nick as ever drew truly professional performances from the collective company, but also from so many different individuals, whilst working as one with musicians, professional to the core and, as ever, frustratingly behind the scenes.

To call the show epic at a few points would not be an exaggeration.  With Lottie and her team’s exciting choreography filling the stage, Stuart’s sound design seamlessly supporting throughout, alongside Guy’s lighting (aided remarkably by the ‘total professionalism’ of Music Tech student Josh Root), we were always in the world of Hurtwood excellence.

So all this was brought together by the new boy on the Hurtwood block: making his directorial debut following from his run at the prestigious BRIT School, applause please for the ever gracious, hugely talented and highly modest Rob Holt.  Ably supported by the decades of (Alsager and Crewe) experience of Andy Johnson, the baton of brilliance could not have passed into more competent hands.  With a blithe optimism, alongside a wise understanding of the all-round demands on our students, truly astonishing performances were brought out of so many youngsters across the board.  Guiding us throughout with such stylish glamour were the Leading Players, a kind of Greek Chorus for our times; Tana, Sophie and Tia, joining the dots, so to speak, inviting us to suspend our disbelief and collude in the concept of the eternal search for  a meaningful life, one that ultimately proves to be more, rather than less, ordinary. With Zach and Lara exploiting the comic and satirical potential of Charlemagne the Great, power, royalty and family, alongside Bella and Zac – all biceps and shallow bravado - stalking the borderline of pantomime farce, without quite slipping in, it was left to Lily and Sofia, as widowed mother and little son, to create the stripped-back heroism of everyday work and survival, and the quintessential importance of ordinariness, here in the form of family. Impressive, all of them. 

Oh, and let us not forget – how could we? - Joe.  The thread binding together the plot, the ‘ordinary Joe’, plucked with Brechtian aplomb from the audience to represent the newly-fledged young adult’s discovery that the allure of fame, fortune and celebrity are little more than smoke and mirrors. With an almost effortless-seeming ease, Joe won our hearts, carried our sympathies as he carried the story, moving between comedic geekiness and (an almost) heroic stature, in choosing the unglamorous truth.  Bravo Joe, and the principals, but most importantly of all, the whole company – a glorious fabric of individual vignettes, of tricks and turns, comic and tragic.  None of it would have worked without all of you.

Surely at some level we all want the lights, greasepaint, and drumrolls, the feathers and sequins ... but maybe, this production suggested, we want more than the smoke and mirrors of competitive display, driven by social media?  We want to be happy, which may well be found, as here, in the meaningful commitment to the stripped back ordinary, a sense of belonging, a hand to hold, love to give and get.  You get the idea, and it hangs in the air at the end.

Pippin – who knew? What a fabulous way to end a year that has been challenging

surely by anyone’s standards, global or local.   What fun was had, what epic sweep and range, what quietly provocative interrogation of our societal values. Tick, tick, tick.

It is, however, the sense of fun that remains.  Now.  That long autumn term is done.  Like a circus tent, roll up 2025, shake out 2026: take a deep breath and let’s get on with the syllabus, let’s get on with life.