The Music Man Project in New York: Part 4 - Big Day in the Big Apple
PART 4 – Big Day in the Big Apple
It was a tremendous relief when the big day finally arrived on 7th October 2026.
After two years of rehearsals and fundraising, cancelled flights, visa uncertainties and a seemingly endless series of obstacles, we were finally about to take to the stage in New York in our very own Broadway show.
And this wasn't just any Broadway show.
I had written a production that told our remarkable 27-year story in two halves.
The first half followed our journey from a single student in Southend-on-Sea to the Royal Albert Hall, humorously recalling the rejections we encountered as we battled ignorance, low expectations and what I often describe as the glass ceiling of locality.
One line in particular summed it all up:
“I know, I'm just a nobody from Southend-on-Sea!”
I even invented a character called Geoffrey from the Royal Albert Hall, brilliantly played by Stuart Woolner, who repeatedly declined my requests to perform at the famous venue. His familiar response of “So sorry!” was enthusiastically echoed by the entire company, becoming a running joke throughout the production. In fact, it became something of a catchphrase for every mishap during our New York adventure, much to the bemusement of the New Yorkers around us!
But beneath the humour was a much more serious message about the barriers that people with learning disabilities have faced, and the determination required to overcome them.
The first half ended with poignant footage from our 2019 Royal Albert Hall concert, when Sir David Amess proudly announced our next great ambition: Broadway.
It was an extraordinary moment. Two decades after I had promised my earliest students that they would one day perform at the Royal Albert Hall, we were standing on its famous stage, dreaming of something even bigger.
The second half began with that same footage of Sir David, but this time it transitioned into news reports of the terrible day he was murdered.
Almost five years had passed since 15th October 2021.
And now, the very performers Sir David had championed so passionately were standing on a Broadway stage, fulfilling the dream he had announced and paying tribute to the man who had believed in them. We performed his favourite piece of music, Pachelbel's Canon, and sang Peace and Hope as a prayer in his memory, just as we had done in 2021 when the devastating news of his death first reached us.
It was an intensely emotional moment.
But Music Is Magic on Broadway was more than a reflection on our past. It was the story of my life with The Music Man Project. The highs, the lows and everything in between. It was an emotional rollercoaster from beginning to end.
We remembered a time when people with learning disabilities were hidden away in institutions, when parents were told that their children would never achieve anything, and when opportunities to participate in the arts were almost unimaginable. We remembered the friends, parents and supporters we had lost along the way.
But we also celebrated the triumphs.
Performing at the London Palladium and Royal Albert Hall. Breaking a Guinness World Record. Performing for royalty. Appearing on national television. Travelling the world and sharing our music with audiences who might once have doubted what our musicians could achieve.
And now, Broadway.
Every achievement, every disappointment, every person who had helped us along the way was part of the story we were about to share with New York.
Ultimately, Music Is Magic on Broadway was a story of hope.
Not satisfied with writing and producing the show, composing the music, raising the money, writing the programme, planning, promoting and organising the entire tour (honestly, I would have flown the plane if I could!), I decided that I also needed to be the one to tell our story.
I wanted the audience to feel what I felt, to experience the highs and lows alongside me. This was a deeply personal story, and I wanted to tell it myself.
There was just one small problem.
I hadn't had to learn any lines since my days with St Laurence Church Players! (Read my blog Hello, My Name is Silly Willy": Growing Up in the London Palladium of Eastwood).There were plenty of moments when I wondered whether I had finally taken on too much, and repeatedly forgetting my lines during rehearsals as I leapt up from the piano was certainly one of them!
I was used to wearing lots of hats, but this was stretching it!
Nevertheless, with encouragement and guidance from the more experienced actors in our company, I somehow pulled it off.
Although I must confess that I kept the script open on my iPad, discreetly positioned on the piano.
Just in case!
The Big Day Arrives
As I walked down 43rd Street towards The Town Hall's stage door, I had an even greater concern than forgetting my lines. A series of increasingly alarming questions had been racing through my mind all night.
Had I hired the instruments correctly, and would they arrive on time? After all, I had two Royal Marines in the band! What if they arrived to discover there was no drum kit or keyboard to play?!
Had the technical crew actually read my 18-page technical pack? We had paid a small fortune for technicians and equipment because The Town Hall was a union theatre. I had been warned that we couldn't even move a chair without their permission! Would they understand the performers and their individual needs?!
Would the programmes arrive? They were being printed somewhere in New York and delivered directly to the theatre. But what if they got lost?!
And perhaps most worrying of all, would the audience with their complimentary tickets actually turn up?!
It was these things, the aspects of the production that were largely beyond my control, that caused me the greatest anxiety.
The Music Man Project Global Ambassadors, on the other hand, were the least of my worries. I knew they would put on an amazing show.
Of course, I shouldn't have worried. We had planned everything meticulously. We had paid experienced professionals who had done this thousands of times before. We had the support of incredible people and organisations, including TEAM LEWIS Foundation.
And, perhaps most reassuringly of all, Dame Penny Mordaunt was in the building.
And she'd held the sword for the King!
And I mustn't forget the greatest supporter we had in our corner that day, and throughout our entire New York adventure: Sir David Amess. I was certain he was watching over us all, beaming with pride, his trademark megaphone in hand, cheering us on from heaven with the words we repeated so many times throughout the show:
“Go on, David! You can do it! Onwards and upwards!”
It was the privilege of my life to lead The Music Man Project onto the Broadway stage that night. Our Fill the Hall for All Facebook advertising campaign had helped attract an audience of more than 800 people. They laughed, cried, cheered and danced along to our music. Looking out across the theatre, I could see people of all ages, backgrounds and abilities, including many with disabilities and additional needs.
For one unforgettable evening, music had brought us all together. It was a moment we would treasure forever.
Despite having rehearsed the entire show that afternoon, The Music Man Project Global Ambassadors performed their socks off, just as I knew they would!
A few moments stand out in particular.
The opening song, Now We're on Broadway, led by the wonderful Joe Palmer, was one of them. I had written the song during lockdown as a way of bringing our New York dream to life through music. I had done exactly the same with my earlier songs, London Palladium and You Can Have It All at the Albert Hall. Each time, I had absolutely no idea how we would achieve these seemingly impossible ambitions. But I wrote the songs anyway, and we sang them every day as though our dreams had already come true.
And somehow, one by one, they did.
Another highlight was Would You Wear Someone Else's Knickers!, taken from my 2015 London Palladium musical, From the Asylum to the Palladium. The song tells the true story of NHS reformer Joe Dorado, who once stood before the press and asked:
“Would you wear someone else's knickers?”
“No!” came the reply.
“So why do we treat them differently?” Joe responded.
It was a hilarious song with an important message about dignity, equality and the way society treats people with learning disabilities.
The show was ultimately a celebration of our remarkable musicians who had performed for royalty and Prime Ministers, broken a Guinness World Record, recorded a Top 10 single, appeared on television, toured the world and received a standing ovation from His Majesty King Charles III.
The brilliant, inspiring and life-enhancing Music Man Project Global Ambassadors.
We celebrated their courage, their talent and their unstoppable joy, while paying tribute to the heroes who had helped them along the way.
Every note we played and sang carried the message that has defined my entire career:
Music belongs to everyone.
And then, in the middle of Act Two, following the moving tribute to our late President, I picked up Sir David's megaphone, took a deep breath and delivered the most important line of the entire show.
“Well, Sir David, we said we'd take them to Broadway. We did it, my friend. We did it…”
And in that moment, I felt the stress, fear, imposter syndrome and sheer weight of responsibility drain from my mind and body. As the adrenaline subsided, I felt utterly exhausted. I was enormously proud of the entire company and everyone who had shared this remarkable journey with me.
I felt closer to Sir David, too. I was certain he had helped us through, and that he was still championing The Music Man Project from above.
Sir David would always conclude our major performances with a wonderful speech. It was therefore incredibly fitting that his successor as President of The Music Man Project, Dame Penny Mordaunt, took on that role at The Town Hall.
With her trademark grace, poise and warmth, Penny delivered a wonderful speech. She even echoed Sir David's famous words:
“You've conquered the London Palladium and Royal Albert Hall, and now you've conquered Broadway. There's only one place left to go… and that's…”
But Penny stopped herself!
She left it to our musicians to announce our next ambitious destination in the final song of the show, fittingly entitled Anything Is Possible.
…LAS VEGAS!
The show had gone down a storm. New Yorkers rose to their feet, and we had already announced our next seemingly impossible dream!
The Music Man Project juggernaut keeps moving forward.
Onwards and upwards!
But before we could get too carried away celebrating our Broadway debut, there was another little event to prepare for the following day.
A performance and a speech…
At the United Nations!
To be continued in Part 5…
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