mostly david ephgrave

As of today, I've been a professional actor and musician for twenty years. Allegedly.  Doesn't working in the same field for two decades technically constitute a career? If so, I look forward to the sense of security kicking in, both psychologically and financially. However, I know I should at least give myself a pat on the back for managing to stay in an industry so notorious for people dropping out. To still be acting twenty years after my showcase at London's Fortune Theatre is not to be sniffed at, whatever my bank balance/sinus issues say to the contrary. All in all, I haven't done too bad. My first two jobs - both No. 1 tours for Bill Kenwright - set a high bar in terms of the scale of theatre I was playing and the work I was doing. Being a musician definitely increased my opportunities in the early days, though I risked being typecast in a genre I was determined to not get stuck in. However, it gave me some great opportunities of which playing my heroes Paul McCa...

I'm trying to comprehend the fact I started at drama school twenty years ago; I find it hard to believe that's possible. How can this be true? I mean, let's be honest: when it comes to anniversaries, twenty isn't a small number. In 1967, that's how much earlier Sgt Pepper gave his band music lessons which would put the year discussed at 1947; comparatively, the length of time passed since my first day at drama school sounds terrifying; I may as well put in an order for a gravestone and a cemetery plot. This is why it's best to not give these milestones much consideration as they'll only make you depressed. I just find it weird that I began training so long ago, which in turn would mean I started my BTEC in performing arts two years prior to that; I'm not going to do the 'first day at school' calculation for fear there's not enough graph paper on the planet. As an aside, I've just realised my BTEC began twenty-two years ago, which wa...

For most of the morning, I couldn’t fathom out why today's date seemed familiar. Then it came to me: I started drama school sixteen years ago to the day. That sounds and feels like a long time ago. If my training were a child, it could get married with its parents' consent. It could also do rude stuff. If I were using the same time-frame to chart the distance between my birthdate and the events that preceded it, The Beatles would have just released ‘Help!’, and Winston Churchill, his last breath. I could have worded that better. What I’m saying is, my first day as a full-time drama student is further in the past than it should be. I can remember walking into Hertfordshire Theatre School to meet my year for the first time clearly. As I climbed the rickety staircase from the students’ entrance to the Studio, I was fully aware that I was about to come face to face with the people I’d spend the next three years with. What I wasn’t prepared for ...

One song that sends me whizzing back to my student days is ‘And it Stoned Me’ by Van Morrison.   (I was born in the wrong era.) Any time I hear it, I’m suddenly sat in The Smoking Room of the flat I briefly shared with my drama school friends, playing cards late into the night while Van Morrison, Bob Dylan or my band Big Day Out rang out from the stereo. (I'd never put the last one on, by the way. I'm not that egotistical.) We spend a lot of time in that room. It can’t have been good for our lungs. We only knew one card game - the prettily titled Shit Head (presumably named after Piers Morgan) - which we’d eek out for hours, over endless rounds of tea and biscuits. It’s amazing I didn’t become an overweight, oxygen mask-wearing mess. The flat stretched across the entire length of the floor above a car showroom. A large open rooftop space led up to its front door, which led to a big open-plan living room / kitchen. It was a centre point...