My regular readers will know that I had a music engagement in January 2000 in celebration of the new millennium, and that at the last minute, the management of the society concerned had asked the male members of the orchestra to wear DJs, a decision with which I was very uncomfortable, but one which I felt that I had to respect at the time due to the event's high prestige [1]. Actually, if the truth be told, the shortage of rehearsal time had resulted in such poor quality of singing in the weeks prior to the concerts that the chairwoman had been reduced to tears on a number of occasions, and I didn't feel it was fair to add to her concerns.
However, the following week, I decided to seek advice from the Musicians' Union on what rights I had to refuse to wear the conventional DJ - or even "black and black" (the shorthand for "black shirt and black trousers") - for future concerts, on the grounds that such requests amount to sex discrimination. The surprising reply from head office was that, unless a contract of employment specifically states otherwise (which it usually doesn't), I can wear a skirt-based outfit if I wish, provided that it doesn't adversely affect my performance. Adversely affect my performance? Hell, the only thing which would do that would be my discomfort at wearing the ugly and uncomfortable antiques which pass for modern formal male dress!
Well, I still had one church concert to do in mid-March, for which I agreed to wear "black and black" at the polite request of the chairwoman. To an atheist like me, a church is just another building, but it appears to have a special significance to some people ...... In any event, I turned up to the afternoon rehearsal in a black skirt - not out of malice, but because this had by then become my regular mode of presentation; in fact, I hadn't worn trousers since the January concerts! But I mischievously left it until the very last minute to change, ensuring that as many people from the incoming audience saw me as possible. As a large contingent of schoolchildren of both sexes was participating as guests in this particular concert, I was also interested to find out whether there'd be any complaints from concerned or angry parents concerning my appearance, given the widely-held beliefs amongst the uninformed masses that all cross-dressers sexually abuse children. But so far as I know, there were none.
So I immediately wrote a letter to the society describing how I felt about wearing a DJ, mentioning my dialogue with the Musicians' Union, and also pointing out that the other group for which I regularly play have no problem with me wearing a skirt for their performances [2]. I also raised the subject of the society's forthcoming high-profile presentation of Mack and Mabel in early May, and tendered my refusal of the prestigious part of pit pianist if I would have to abide by the usual ruling of DJs for the men. The society's response was that, provided I dressed "appropriately", they'd have no trouble with me wearing a skirt.
The week of the show seemed to arrive very quickly. During the preliminary orchestra rehearsal three days before curtain-up, the musical director requested "DJs for men, and whatever women wear for this sort of thing" - which I thought summed up the whole discrimination aspect quite eloquently! Although the rest of the orchestra and the society as a whole had long been aware of my clothing preference, I knew that, if I chose not to wear a DJ, anyone in the audience who saw me would immediately notice that something was different. However, I didn't want people to spend so much time wondering what I was doing that they forgot the reason they were there! So I chose a plain white sleeveless tee-shirt with a long-sleeved black jacket, an ankle-length black skirt which my fiancée Kim used to wear for her orchestral concerts in the US, and black high-heeled strappy sandals. To add just a touch of frivolity, I also decided to wear bright red polish on my toe-nails!
Mack and Mabel is based on the true story of movie-maker Mack Sennett and his on-off relationship with actress Mabel Normand. It's set in the era of the silent movie, when studios employed a pianist to improvise descriptive accompanying music as the material was being shot and reviewed. In our version of the musical, the studio pianist was miming, and the job of providing the musical accompaniment fell to me in the "real" orchestra pit. For someone who's spent over thirty years playing from written music, I initially found this form of improvisation extremely difficult and nerve-racking, although by the end of the week, I was really beginning to enjoy it! In the event, all five performances went extremely well, and were received with enthusiasm by the audiences and by the local press. Then, on the last night, the musical director saw fit to acknowledge my efforts by giving me a solo bow in front of a packed theatre of 1500 people - skirt and all.
From personal notes.