Sometimes you’re presented with the opportunity to witness something wonderful, something you wouldn’t have even known existed except by an uncanny twist of fate. So I found myself queuing outside Hackney Empire to experience Shadowball, Julian Joseph’s community jazz opera about baseball. Now I don’t know the first thing about baseball, I know little about jazz, and it was the first time in my life I’d ever been to Hackney. But my slight apprehension at being an uninitiated reviewer was transformed by the air of excitement around the entrances, where people of all ages, colours and creeds were evidently buzzing about the spectacle they were about to behold.
Shadowball tells the story of black baseball players in the 1940s, forced to play ball in the Negro Leagues instead of the Major (whites only) Leagues. Developed by Hackney Music Development Trust, the cast features just one adult – Cleveland Watkiss playing the oracle-like Satchel Paige – and an army of Hackney primary school children. Julian Joseph, who composed the opera’s score, led his quintet from the piano, and directed proceedings alongside the incredibly engaging co-director Jenny Gould, who was charged with the colossal task of keeping the children engaged and in tow. The host of kids was amassed on stage as the curtain raised, seated in ‘ballpark’ tiers and sporting an impressive array of beautiful forties costumes in miniature, from head-kerchiefs and aprons to boaters and spats. This marvellous sight, accompanied by the opening a capella chorus ‘Take me out to the ball game’, made for a remarkably striking opening, in which all the initial anticipation and excitement burst into colour and song.
If the excitement dipped for Satchel’s opening recitative, which explained both the situation for black ballplayers in the forties, and ‘shadowball’ itself – a mime game of baseball used by the Negro League players as a warm-up routine – it returned as the opening chorus was taken up again by full cast and band. The performers all radiated theatricality as they went about their choreographed routines selling hotdogs, touting, posing for (and taking) team photographs. Their confidence belied both excellent direction from Clare Whistler and tirelessly rehearsals. It wasn’t exactly ‘professionalism’, (as you’d expect when 99% of the performers are under the age of ten – and so much the better), but I really got the sense that hours of hard graft, inspired by the boundless enthusiasm of the kids and the dedicated passion of the adults, made the show such a seamless spectacle.