Risk and Excitement: The best first day of work. EVER.

The fun continues at Harbourfront Centre!

After my wild and crazy summer working at HFC’s Theatre Camp, September has seen my return to the Centre as an Artist Educator in the School Visits programme.  I really enjoy the title of “Artist Educator,” in case you were curious, because it somehow manages not to take the emphasis off of being an artist.  Artist is still first.  Which I think is really valuable, particularly in this educational setting, because the kids coming to us already have teachers in the traditional sense and they don’t necessarily need another teacher in the same way.  I think what we have to offer as artists first is what makes the programme really unique and valuable.

In a nutshell, here is what happens at my awesome new day job (or one of them, anyway): Teachers contact Harbourfront to register their class for one or more of our programmes, of which there are an almost infinite number.  The head honcho, who is a fairly fabulous lady, gets a feel for what the teacher is after and passes the assignment on to one of us Artist Educators.  We then work with the teacher to meet the needs of his/her classroom, which could mean many, many things, but the general idea is that we teach things that would fall under the headings of history, social studies, urban studies, environmental studies, and social justice education through the lens of whatever our individual artistic strength is—visual arts, performance, dance, music, etc. 

Part of Harbourfront’s mission is to make the arts and culture accessible to everyone in Toronto.  I think this is in large part why so much (if not most) of their programming is free, especially the summer festivals and many of the exhibits.  The School Visits programme is aiming to take that to another level and to not only make it accessible (although there is a small cost) but also to make it relevant and engaging. 

And, of course, one of our goals is to get kids (and ourselves) past that little voice in their (our) heads that says, “I can’t.”

Enter Ramune Luminaire (which is such a rockstar name), our guest for day one of Artist Educator training, also known as Artistic Development (much like teachers have Professional Development).  She is a really cool visual artist who facilitates workshops for all kinds of people, inclusive of everyone from the artistically trained to those who cringe at the thought of picking up a paintbrush.

But, in an effort to remind us that anyone can do art and that this is a really important message to communicate to all of our classes, Ramune started the day by having us make marks on paper to music.  You could use any mark-making tool or substance available, and they were diverse and plentiful, and all you had to do was make some kind of mark on the paper.  It didn’t have to be a picture, it didn’t have to be pretty, it just had to be…

This went on for a while, which was fun…and then we all got an envelope containing something meant to inspire us—a word, a phrase, a picture, an object, etc.—and our assignment was to respond artistically to it somehow.  I thought this was a really fun way to get us creating—and oddly I found that most of the actors in the room felt this was easier than making marks to music.  For me, I liked it because it gave me somewhere to start and something to play with (my envelopes contained objects—a cotton ball and then a sequin, which sort of reflects my life and personality in a strange way…but nevermind that right now).

And it just snowballed from there…

We worked on making books that expressed who we were, our only rules were that we had to take risks and whatever we were doing had to excite us.  And I think those are good rules for art and life, having to take risks and having to be excited about what you’re doing.  Because if you aren’t taking risks then you probably aren’t growing, either personally or artistically, because comfort zones become stagnant spaces fairly quickly.  And because if you aren’t excited about what you’re doing then it probably isn’t meaningful to you and you probably aren’t doing it to the best of your abilities and beyond, and art doesn’t pay well enough for that and well, life is too short to do things that aren’t meaningful and exciting.

Later we were sent out to explore Harbourfront and its immediate neighbourhood, since much of what goes on there is site-specific.  And it was nice to sit there and sketch the Canada Malting Company building (an old warehouse, complete with silos), to people watch, to ponder the waves of the Harbour, and even to appreciate the plastic grass with faux rubber bits of dirt on the West Lawn.  Location has always been important to me, personally and artistically.  Knowing where you are and where you’ve been, these things are so important to figuring out where exactly you’re going.

Of course, the next step was to respond to this artistically…with the same rules as before, but more freedom in terms of the project, the medium, etc.  I had started embroidering paper earlier, which for whatever reason I found really satisfying and interesting artistically, so I decided to stick with it because it was exciting, though somewhat painstaking.  And for my risk, I chose to alter a book I found in the piles of things, a series of essays about the various ethnic groups of Toronto.  While this particular book didn’t necessarily mean anything to me, books have always been sort of sacred to me, and the idea of “defacing” one was a step outside my comfort zone…

This is my final project, unfinished. All the pencil lines still need to be embroidered—it’s time consuming.

At the end of the day, we had all created these wild, original, beautiful things.  And it was so thrilling to be in such a creative environment (and to be paid to be there!!) with so many brilliant and talented people.  It really got the ball rolling and inspired me…

The rest of the week was pretty amazing, too, and maybe I’ll write more about it at a later date, but this one day really drove home to me the value of having a job you love and an outlet for pent up creativity…

Muskoka, film, and making my own work…

The view from my dock on Muldrew Lake.

Today I had lunch with a friend who makes films. Because we’ve been saying, “Hey, we should do something…” for at least two years now and that “something” has yet to materialize. We just haven’t both been in the right place at the right time. Until now.

We’re both feeling a bit artistically stagnant at the moment and are in need of something to keep us moving, working, and inspired. He’s got a camera, I act and I have actor friends. Get where I’m going with this?

There is “something” in the works, a little no-budget collaborative project we can both learn something from. We’re hoping for funny and character-driven. And we’re going about it in a different kind of way. My last show really drove home the importance and value of cast bonding, collaboration, and using everyone’s various talents to their fullest. As such, we’re planning to take ourselves and anyone else who cares to participate up to my lovely cottage for a few days. And we’re going to burn things, brainstorm, swim, get creative, drink beer, and film. Hopefully we’ll come up with something cool. And at the very least, we’re bound to have fun. If you’re a Toronto-based actor and you want to play, too, leave a comment. Seriously.

I’ve also contacted my sister, The Writer, to see if she can come up with some ideas for us. Because she’s hilarious. And she has a blog now. Someday she’s going to write a book like Running With Scissors and embarrass our whole dysfunctional family. But without a doubt it will be highly entertaining. And maybe I can play myself when it gets turned into a movie.

So that’s just one project currently underway (there’s a theatre one with my new Best Friend that I refuse to talk about for fear of jinxing it). Good to know that several months later I am finally taking the advice of that smart guy at Praxis and creating my own work. I have to say, this feels good.

 I did this on my dock one night with a flashlight and a long exposure. I think it’s kind of awesome.

Theatre, the Irish, and Beer: MacKenzieRo and bedbound

This was originally intended for elsewhere, but I’m posting it here now. I already blogged a bit about bedbound here. You can also find stellar reviews in The Globe and Mail, The Toronto Star, Eye Weekly, and NOW. And if you haven’t seen it yet, what are you waiting for?

Last week I combined three of my great loves (theatre, the Irish, and beer) into one awe-inspiring night out.  I was privileged to attend the opening night of MacKenzieRo’s bedbound and to schmooze with its stars after the show.  Not only was it a beautiful piece of theatre, but it was one of the friendliest, most generous casts I have had the pleasure of encountering.  This is without a doubt a show to see and a company to watch.  Here’s why:

In Enda Walsh’s bedbound a father and daughter share a tiny bed.   Lying in filth and squalor, both father and daughter talk incessantly, searching through their separate existences to finally find each other in a poignant moment of redemption.  He uses words to re-enact his glory days as the furniture king of Cork.  She uses them to keep the overwhelming silence in her head at bay.  Lyrical, gut-wrenching, comical, coarse, and heart-breaking, this is a play that grabs hold of its audience from the first words and never lets go until the last breath.  In this production, it is performed to perfection, with deft, warmth, and spirit, by Richard Greenblatt and Cathy Murphy and flawlessly directed by the talented Autumn Smith.  It is not for the faint of heart.  Neither is MacKenzieRo, the company currently producing the Canadian premiere at the Tarragon Studio Upstairs.

MacKenzieRo, an independent, artist-run company, was started in 2003 by Autumn Smith and Cathy Murphy with an eye toward producing theatre that spoke to their shared Irish heritage.  Having know each other since they were but “young wans,” both are second generation Irish Canadian and MacKenzieRo is actually a combination of the names of one of Autumn’s Irish grandparents and her family name in County Antrim.  Though they are fans of all kinds of classical and contemporary theatre, when it comes to their own work they’ve known since the beginning that their focus would be on the “in-yer-face contemporary Irish playwrights who challenge artists and audiences with scripts that are provocative, intimate, and psychologically demanding.”  Having both studied in London, England, their exposure to the Irish theatre was extensive and inspiring.  As Autumn, MacKenzieRo’s Artistic Director, puts it, “It was probably the original Irish production of The Weir that did us in.  We both caught the Royal Court production in the late 1990s.”  Thus, a company was born.

They started out following in the tradition of the pub-theatres of Ireland and the UK, producing at Rowers Pub in Toronto’s Annex neighbourhood.  Their interest was in exploring the historic idea of the Public House as the centre of the community, a shared space and meeting place for local voices, and in using this unique space as an intersection for theatre and community.  Autumn approached Rowers in 2004 when MacKenzieRo produced The Weir at The Fringe, “It was a cold call--I just went in and pitched the idea of a play about a pub, in a pub.  They loved the idea and gave us their upstairs room for three consecutive Fringes.” 

While they have since moved away from producing their work in pubs (Toronto lacks any true pub theatres: real pub theatres are fully equipped black box space above or connected to pubs) as their work has matured and their production values have changed, MacKenzieRo has remained true to their roots.  Now with each production they connect with a local Irish pub and encourage their audiences to come enjoy a pint with the cast post-show--for bedbound they’ve teamed up with the Pour House and I can assure you they’re the kind of people with whom you want to have a beer.

As they’ve grown up, they’ve come to see themselves as Toronto’s professional Irish Repertory Theatre.  With this comes a commitment to introducing plays not yet well-known to Canadian audiences: MacKenzieRo was the first Toronto company to produce Enda Walsh’s DISCO PIGS (to much critical acclaim) and bedbound is a Canadian premiere.  These Irish works are an important part of the Toronto theatre landscape not because they are saying things that our Canadian playwrights are not, but because they are saying them differently, in ways that we are not.  For Enda Walsh, “he crashes and bruises the air with his words.”  The Irish have a grasp on language unique to themselves but still accessible and enriching to our Canadian experience and culture.

What I most connect with in their vision of theatre and what I think bedbound accomplished particularly well is their desire to create experiential theatre.  It is not enough to MacKenzieRo that their audience show up and sit there, they want them to really experience the production.  They’re here to challenge us. With bedbound, this means creating an intimacy that doesn’t ever allow the audience to disengage: “This is closer-than-comfort stuff, befitting of Walsh’s in-yer-face style.”  This theatre insists on an audience that is present as an active witness.  Autumn shares, “When I go to the theatre, I want something to shift in me.”  However, she is quick to add that she prefers the audience not to look to the production for all the answers.  MacKenzieRo has figured out that the best theatre is the one in which artists and audiences leave still questioning, still wondering, “still figuring it all out.”

And it’s in that frame of mind that I walked away from bedbound and from my first encounter with MacKenzieRo, still thinking, still questioning but doing both with a greater appreciation for the vibrancy of Toronto’s independent theatre scene.  When I asked Autumn what her hopes were for the future of MacKenzieRo, she answered, “Well, if I win the lottery, I am building a beautiful gastro pub run by my dear friend who is a chef.  And on top will be a fully equipped black box.”  For more from MacKenzieRo, I’ll buy her the ticket.

bedbound plays from now until May 17, 2009 at Tarragon Studio Upstairs, 30 Bridgman Ave. 8PM (2:30 Sundays) Tickets: $20, Sundays PWYC Box Office: 416.531.1827 tickets.tarragontheatre.com

MacKenzieRo’s bedbound, or what I want to be when I grow up…

Last night I was privileged to attend the opening of MacKenzieRo’s production of bedbound at the Tarragon Studio Upstairs.  And as press, no less (I’ll be blogging about it elsewhere in that context, which I will eventually link to).  Which makes me giggle.  Because it feels like when you’re little and you wear your mom’s high heels and jewellery and put on her lipstick and pretend to be a grown up.  But I digress.  I will tell the story of how all that came to be another time.  On to bedbound…

Awe-inspiring.

Seriously, I could stop there.  But, of course, I won’t.  MacKenzieRo is producing the Canadian premiere, so I’m going to go out on a limb here and assume we aren’t all familiar.  This is the story, according to their website:

“For the father and daughter who are the sole inhabitants of their suffocating and filthy quarters, language is nothing short of a basic biological function.  An account of a life spent flogging three-piece suites and Swedish pine furniture becomes both feverish and blackly comic—a desperately bleak drama offering a beautifully judged glimpse of redemption.”

Father and daughter are played by Richard Greenblatt and Cathy Murphy, respectively.  They spend an hour and change never leaving the small bed they share, speaking incessantly.  Very little of their talk is dialogue, it’s much more monologue with interjections.  And what I found absolutely enthralling under these circumstances was their ability to create worlds outside of their confinement and the very real connection they found with each other and with their audience.

So they’re trapped in what is basically a double bed.  From start to finish they literally do not put a foot on the floor.  Not once.  Don’t mistake me, they’re quite active, sitting, standing, leaning over, wrestling bedsheets, etc.  But they do it all without ever leaving a this very small area.  And as they’re telling stories, about being on the beach, about being in a furniture warehouse, about making deliveries, about a dinner party, they manage somehow to make you feel as if you’re in that place.  As if they’re in that place.  The detail, the specificity of it, was incredible.  There was not a single moment, not a single description of an item or a place, where you weren’t absolutely convinced that these two individuals had been there, touched it, knew everything about it.  They used every inch of that tiny space to its fullest.  That is an accomplishment all by itself.

And then there was this incredible relationship between these two characters.  It’s a messed up relationship, to be sure, but you really understood that there was something between them.  Which makes or breaks a two person play, in my opinion (or any play, really).  I recently saw Studio 180’s production of Blackbird at CanStage and, while I enjoyed it and think it’s a great play, I was disappointed watching it.  Because I felt like I was watching two actors talking at each other and not two people relating to each other.  It was a play about a relationship and there was no relationship.  Which was unfortunate.  So it was wonderful to see the opposite of that.  And to catch the nuances in each moment.  Really, they didn’t miss a beat.  And the relationship between them changed from beginning to end, they changed from beginning to end.  They were just so committed to their choices, which were so well thought out and strong.  It sends shivers down my spine just thinking about it.  And one of my favourite things to see in theatre happened: the show ended and by curtain call they started to look like totally different people.  By the time I saw them backstage they were almost unrecognizable.  It was incredible.

What was impressive as an audience member, too, was that from the first string of expletives spewed out by Greenblatt, they just grabbed hold of you and took you along for the ride.  There was never a moment where they dropped the ball, no opportunity to disengage.  Remember this quote from my favourite RADA prof?

“You have to take the audience with you. Take by the hand and lead them to paradise.  Or lead them up the garden path and slit their fucking throats.  Just take them with you!”

These two (and their director, Autumn Smith) could not possibly have done a better job of it.  Which is all the more incredible because, while including the audience and creating these worlds outside of their actual reality, they still managed to convey a feeling of confinement. 

And the most amazing part?  They rehearsed this show for 2.5 weeks.  Which says to me, these guys know what they’re doing on a whole different level.

Seriously, they were doing so many things all at once without ever making it look like work.  It was beautiful to watch.  Absolutely awe-inspiring.  And they were funny.  And they used all my favourite words (none of which are nice).  After being in a show like the one I was just in, this was exactly what I needed. 

This is the kind of theatre I want to be a part of.  These are the kind of people I want to work with—I should add that I had the chance to talk to all of them afterward (and Autumn beforehand) and they were so kind and generous and just great.  It really restored my faith in theatre.  I’m finding that more and more with some of Toronto’s indie theatre groups.  It comforts me, it gives me hope.  When I’m a big girl, I want to be like them.  Or now.   You know, whichever.

And if you don’t go see this show, you’re crazy.  Just saying.

bedbound plays until May 17th. 8PM (2:30 Sundays) Tickets are $20, Sundays PWYC. Purchasements can be made here.

Sir Andrew Aguecheek is a jerkface.

 

Ok, no he isn’t.  He’s actually one of my new favourite people. His name is Jordan. And he’s quite a talented actor. But for the purposes of this post, he is a jerkface.

Before I launch into my serious thoughts on this production, I thought I would share this fun little moment from yesterday’s closing…

There is a lovely moment in I.iii of Twelfth Night when Sir Toby urges Sir Andrew to “accost” Maria, accost being “front her, board her, woo her, assail her.”  Eventually, Maria wins the battle of wits and walks out of the scene, getting the better of both of them…the exchange goes like this:

Andrew: Do you think you have fools in hand?
Maria:  Sir, I have not you by the hand.
Andrew:  Marry, but you shall have; and here’s my hand.
Maria: Now, sir, thought is free: I pray you, bring your hand to the buttery-bar and let it drink.
Andrew:  Wherefore, sweet-heart?  What’s your metaphor?
Maria: It’s dry, sir.
Andrew:  Why, I think so: I am not such an ass but I can keep my hand dry.  But what’s your jest?
Maria:  A dry jest, sir.
Andrew:  Are you full of them?
Maria:  Aye, sir, I have them at my fingers’ ends: marry, now I let go your hand, I am barren. (And she peaces out…yes, that’s Shakespeare’s stage direction)

So in our show on Sir Andrew’s second line, Jordan was supposed to take my hand, get down on his knee, and give it a kiss.  And throughout the run this turned into further molesting it until I stopped him—usually he would lick my arm.  We always had a playful little moment.  And then we carried on with the scene.

Until yesterday.

We got to our lovely little moment.  And the little shit kisses my hand, drops it, grabs my face, and plants a big one right on my lips.  And then he stands there looking at me with this giant, shit-eating grin on his face.

I am not generally caught off guard on stage, but he got me.  Good.  Really good.

I stood there shell shocked for a second, all flustered and glaring at him, walked over to Sir Toby, hit him (because obviously, within the world of the play, Maria would feel this was Toby’s fault…and it was even better because the actor playing Toby hadn’t seen what happened), walked back to Sir Andrew, stuck my finger in his face accusingly, and huffed and puffed for what felt like an eternity because I could not for the life of me figure out what the next line was.  Because it was about his hand.  Which I was no longer holding.  Because he grabbed my face and kissed me.  Which necessitated the letting go of my hand. Jerkface.

Eventually I figured it out, but not without cracking a tiny smile. I could’ve killed him.  I never go up on lines.  Although, I have been known to crack the occasional smile on stage…

Anyway, the audience never realized he wasn’t so much supposed to do that.  But the looks on my castmate’s faces (who were standing behind the audience and could see it all) were priceless.

These are the moments that make theatre fun.

And now Jordan and I have to do another show together so I can get him back…

Come see this crazy show!

Artist’s rendering of the cast of Twelfth Night (AKA me and MS Paint).  Since apparently the pictures we took are not online anywhere.  Close enough.

Well, friends, the insanity comes to a close this weekend.  I’ll be sure to come back with the post-mortem on what I learned. For now I’ll just say that the producer talk went well.  And for all the chaos and madness, the show is coming together more and more and this is a talented young cast.  So if you’re looking to kick off your summer Shakespeare fun early, come check us out!

Important Details:

What:  Twelfth Night in the Parking Lot
              Bring your own chair or blanket
Where:  Green P lot at York Mills and Yonge Street
                (Southeast corner, you can’t miss it.
                And you can still park in the lot)
When:  April 24-26, 12:30 and 6:00
               Tickets $10 (April 24 @ 12:30 PWYC)
               Run time 2 hours/no intermission

Most important detail:

If you are present, come introduce yourself to me after the show! I play Maria and will be wearing purple.  If you cannot find me, I’ll be in the Miller Tavern.  And we can have a beer!

And just for the record, even if you can’t make it for whatever reason (like, say, living in Vancouver), thank you all for your support throughout this show. It’s been really helpful to me to have such an awesome online community to come to with my troubles.  I really appreciate it.

Also, if you do live in Vancouver, you should check out my friend Lois’s show, Stop Kiss.  She is playing their Stage Manager and is awesome.

The end.

Why I love The Tragically Hip...

I was going to title this post "Why I want to have Gordon Downie's babies" but I thought maybe that was taking my love of The Hip just a bit far. Just a bit, though.

Gordon Downie on tour, circa 2007
Image courtesy/copyright mikelastphoto.com
(The Photographer took this, so don't steal it. He also gave me a print of it for Valentine's Day one year...)

Today, April 7, The Tragically Hip are releasing their twelfth album (fourteenth if you count Live Between Us and Yer Favourites, but I don’t because they’re more like “greatest hits”) since first hitting the scene in Kingston, Ontario back in 1983. They released their first album in 1987 and have been in the recording studio fairly consistently ever since.

I started listening to them in the late 90s after raiding my dad’s CD collection in search of something cool. What I came out of the cupboard with was Fully Completely. Love at first listen. Not long after, The Hip released Phantom Power and went on tour. I managed to convince my parents to take me. So it became a family outing, all five of us, trekking across Michigan to catch the concert. We had lousy seats and the old man next to us called my mom “Baby” all night, but I was hooked.

We saw them one more time in Michigan (again as a family) before I went away to university. At which point I realized that no one in the U.S. has ever heard of them. This precious knowledge lead to my next two Hip concert experiences: small venues in New York City, general admission, and front row as long as we got there before the opening act started. Because guaranteed the entire population of Kingston would arrive just as Gordon, Paul, Rob, Gord, and Johnny were taking the stage. The atmosphere was awesome and I was close enough for the Downie’s sweat to hit me (seriously, he sweats more than any human I’ve ever seen). This is one thing I really miss about living south of the border. But then, they don’t quite get it the way we do up here.

So, in honour of today’s release of We Are the Same, I thought I would share some of the reasons I think The Hip may be the best band ever…

1. Polar Bears. The Hip share my love of the handsome white bears, enough to write a song about one. A specific one. Named Gus. He lives in Central Park. They also let one star in the music video for Yer Not the Ocean. And by “star” I mean chase Gordon Downie through the woods.

2. Hockey. A national obsession, The Hip have a healthy respect for the sport and its place in the Canadian psyche. They’ve made songs out of the back of a hockey card, hanging out in the crease (featured on Hockey Night in Canada), and a very famous summit series…but here's that song.

3. They’re intelligent. The Hip reference everyone from Northrop Frye to Jacques Cartier to John Lennon to Shakespeare. They tell stories in their songs, whether by adapting a Hugh MacLennan novel, re-imagining a real historical mystery, or just by their own invention. And this, with a moment for Falstaff, is one of my favourites.

4. Their songs read like a map. They really cover the Canadian landscape, from Newfoundland to Ontario to Manitoba, and all across the Great Plains. To me, they’re local…whether they’re singing about Sault Ste. Marie where my grandparents live, or commiserating on the state of the 401 or Lake Ontario where I live, or depicting in song the majesty of Algonquin Park where I love.

5. They have a connection to modern Canadian pop culture. I love that The Hip love The Trailer Park Boys. And vice versa (disclaimer: don't follow that link if you're offended by profanity). And I love that when the TPB made a movie, The Hip got a cameo, all the movie titles outside the theatre were Hip songs, and the soundtrack was pretty much a “greatest hits” for TTH. But nothing makes me happier than the music video for The Darkest One. Ricky, Julian, Bubbles, Don Cherry, and The Hip. Who could ask for more? But wait, there is some Rick Mercer love, too. Blow At High Dough was the theme song for Mercer’s TV show, Made In Canada.

6. Global social and political consciousness. They’re aware of the world around them in a way that is artistic, engaged, and interesting. If New Orleans is Sinking became If New Orleans is Beat after Katrina, asking "where does that leave you and me?" As Makeshift as We Are and Are We Family take on human rights, war, and responsibility to one another.

You do the combat math, I'm the war artist
You can't take your shots back, I have to watch them miss
The basketball rim shook like a tambourine
Not an unlikely event in a game that means nothing
In a game that means nothing
Makeshift we are
Lead never leaves your system no matter who you are

And they do it all with such poetry.

7. They know who they are and where they came from. The Hip have never really left Canada. Sure, they’ve toured everywhere. But this is their home. Historically, philosophically, in every way that matters. And they get us. They get our history.

8. They are artists. They are rockstars. And they’re the kind of guys you’d want to have a beer with. As artists, they’re constantly challenging themselves. Which is why they are still putting out new albums 26 years on, still working on various projects (Rob Baker used to do all their album art and some of their t-shirt designs), still pushing the bounds of what they can do. As rockstars, well, they just put on one hell of a show. I’ve seen them four times now and they’ve never failed to impress me. As beer drinking cool guys, Rob Baker gave me his guitar pick unsolicited once. And they just keep it real.

And more than all of this, they inspire me. So that’s enough for me to love them, really.

WTD Photo Challenge

Remember when I said Toronto didn't do much for World Theatre Day? Well, that may not be true...

It started when Ian Mackenzie took a picture of himself standing on a stack of books for World Theatre Day. Then Kate Foy did it. Then Simon Ogden did it. And then Rebecca Coleman joined in (I like her nailpolish!). Before we knew it, we had a little meme going. And Ian had the idea that maybe we could turn this a WTD09 poster. So here is the challenge:

Theatre friends, what books lift you up where you belong?

Take a picture of yourself standing on them and email to frabbaurt633[at]tumblr.com, which will add them to our World Theatre Day 2009 tumblog. Ian will be able to get his hands on them from there, I believe. Also, leave me a comment here so I can go check it out. And, being an avid little reader, you could also tell me about the books you chose...Just a thought!

I will post my own version up here tomorrow after I have a chance to take one!

And, for my purposes, I am also interested in seeing what my non-theatre friends might choose...so if you fall into that category, take a picture, post it on your blog, let me know about it, and then I will link to it from here.

Hey, I think we're having fun!?

Today, all the world's a stage. But then again, isn't that true everyday?

I've been thinking all week about what I could contribute to World Theatre Day and, the truth is, I haven't come up with much. At least, not on a large scale. I have my little blog here with which to share my theatrical thoughts and artistic ideas with all of you, but I haven't much of a theatre home out in the real world at this point. So other than going to play rehearsal tonight, which I would have to do regardless, what am I to do?

I've been on Twitter all week reading the tweets about everything being planned in Ottawa and Vancouver and Chicago (which I can't even link to because I can hardly keep track), but there's been no real response here in Toronto (at least, not that I've heard about). The exception to that is The Canadian Stage Company. They're offering 2-for-1 admission to their current production of Shirley Valentine if you bring in a receipt or ticket from any other cultural or arts organization you've visited recently. But that's it. And I have to say, I'm disappointed.
Now, I can't really complain too much because I'm here and I haven't organized anything either. But my real disappointment is more about the general lack of enthusiasm. Do we just feel like we're too cool for WTD? What's our beef?

J. Kelly Nestruck, theatre critic for The Globe and Mail, had this to say on The Guardian's Theatre Blog today: "Try as I might, I can't get excited about this depressing little event. Its existence implies that theatre is in crisis." To paraphrase the rest, he goes on to discuss how the whole event is sort of vague and silly and how, ultimately, the theatre is not dying. This being the case, World Theatre Day is kind of ridiculous and unnecessary because, after all, "we only organise capital-D Days for things that we fear are in peril. (See also: Earth Day.)" He's right, in many respects, and his arguments are definitely worth considering. But he's also wrong.

I disagree with the idea that assigning something a capital "D" is equivalent to announcing its terminal diagnosis. Yes, we have Days for causes and for the things we feel are threatened. But we also have Mother's Day, Valentine's Day, New Year's Day, St. Patrick's Day, etc., etc., etc. And, for the record, the first Earth Day was April 22, 1970, which was long before we really realized the threat to our planet and certainly before being green was in style. Certainly some of these days are silly and celebrate things we should do every day (you know, be good to our mothers, celebrate love, drink green beer), but they exist and they are meant to be celebrations. I think World Theatre Day should be embraced in the same spirit. It is a bit vague, that's true, but I don't think that's a negative. Rather it is an opportunity for creativity. Which is a fundamental element of theatre. WTD is just an excuse for creative celebration.

Of course, Nestruck points out that we celebrate theatre every time we put on a play. Furthermore, "We don't need to celebrate theatre; theatre is celebration." And this is true, but what each piece of theatre or each theatre artist celebrates is different from moment to moment. While one show celebrates the complexities of human relationships, another highlights the importance of ritual and tradition; while one artist embraces the darker depths of the human psyche, another simply shares a love of laughter. So here is where World Theatre Day is specific, even if it hasn't meant to be so. It's World Theatre Day. Today is an opportunity to celebrate our global theatrical community. It is a chance to connect all across this planet and to recognize that, while theatre may mean different things in different places, it exists everywhere, whether we see it or not. It is both on stages and on sidewalks, in living rooms and in coffee shops, it's everywhere. Today is about connecting everyone who is a part of this wonderful art and remembering that we do all share a common goal, which is that very celebration of which Mr. Nestruck speaks. Today is a celebration of the celebration.

175 Years of Toronto

Tomorrow, March 6, marks the 175 birthday of the city of Toronto, my hometown. In honor of the occasion, things are happening all over the city celebrating history and culture. I haven't decided what I'm going to do yet, but I will certainly be out and about. If you happen to be in our fair city, check out all the fuss. Here is the schedule of events downtown and around town! Enjoy!

Praxis Theatre blogs, produces, and parties. All astonishingly well and with a sense of humour.

This past Friday I was privileged to attend the sold out opening night of Praxis Theatre's production of Stranger, a show developed in three workshops over two years. I've been waiting to tell you about it until I could link to my thoughts on the production (which were committed for posting on The Theatre Centre Blog). Fortunately, Stranger runs until February 8, so there is still plenty of time for you to see it--but I wouldn't put it off any longer. Anyway, I won't go too much into my thoughts on it here since I've already written them elsewhere. I will say, though, that I enjoyed writing about it almost as much as I enjoyed watching it.

I am also linking to J. Kelly Nestruck's review at The Globe and Mail. I disagree with his judgment of the show, but I respect his opinion and I do think he makes some valid points. I would also be curious to know, from the creators at Praxis who I imagine will see this at some point, why does Praxis keep "selecting novels by authors who were equally adept as playwright?" I imagine there is a good reason (and I like the selection), I'm just interested in the conversation. Why this play now?

But what I really wanted to write about on my blog with regards to Praxis and Stranger is the reception they held after the show. It turns out I know someone who knows someone, and I was strongly urged to come to the opening so I could make new theatre friends. Well, I'm glad I listened. Because I did make new theatre friends. And laughed, a lot. It turns out they know how to throw a pretty good party, in addition to writing that blog and you know, doing shows. So here are some highlights from my night out with Praxis:

You know the awkward feeling you get at first when you're at a party where you don't know anyone? It kind of started out like that. Because after my friend left, I really didn't know anyone. And everyone was celebrating. So I was kind of the outsider (appropriate to the theme of the show, I guess). But it didn't take too long to get over, especially when I met he of the blog, Michael Wheeler ("You must be BFG." Oh goodness...). Mr. Wheeler was very kind and made some introductions, which I very much appreciated.

The people at Praxis are smart. I miss smart people. Smart about theatre people. Don't get me wrong, my friends are smart. But it's a different kind of intelligence. And it seems like much of team Praxis has studied and/or performed all over the place. It's a very cosmopolitan (though in a non-pretentious way) bunch. I too have studied in various places. It was nice to hear about their experiences outside of Toronto and then coming back...

In one conversation, I commented on how I don't really know what the difference is between the industry (I hate calling it that, but it is) in New York and the industry here in Toronto. My source (who I will not name out of respect to her privacy) told me it could be summed up in a single sentence: In New York, everyone wants to see the new face and to put you out there, in Toronto, they don't. She told me she still has difficulty getting a general audition with a theatre company in the city after many years. And that so do many other very talented people. While I think this is, frankly, disgusting, it's also a relief in some respects. It is not just me. It is, apparently, the way the theatre world works in Toronto (note to self: change the way the theatre world works in Toronto). I don't think it's a good modus operandi for a thriving theatre community, but at least when you know where you stand, it's easier to know how to proceed.

And then I met another associate of Praxis who had me laughing so hard I had pains in my sides. She was lovely. And we discussed theatre programs for kids in Toronto; she is working on starting one. We talked about how most that exist are severely limited, to be exact. I've actually interviewed with one such program and was told I don't have enough experience (me, the summer camp counsellor with the B.F.A. in theatre). The limitations are imposed by programs looking to employ teachers with an interest in theatre and not theatre artists with an interest in teaching; there is a distinct difference. It was nice to have a conversation with a like-minded individual.

I went home smiling. Aside from seeing a good show, I met some great people. I was reassured that I am, in fact, doing the right things. And I was reminded that a career in this city in what I want to do is all about diversifying. So, I advise anyone who can to go see Stranger and to hang out with Praxis, either online or, better, in real life. They're all smart cookies and they have a lot to offer. I am grateful that they shared so generously with me. And I hope to see them again soon! You all have a standing offer from me to buy you coffee/beer/lunch for the privilege of picking your brain.

39,560 reasons to invest in the arts...

Theatre Passe Muraille, one of the birthing places for many of Toronto's independent theatre companies, announced yesterday that it finished its fiscal year with a $39,560 surplus. This followed a year when the financially strapped TPM had to call the city of Toronto in for help. Correct me if I'm wrong, but that's pretty impressive.

Even cooler than that is TPM's membership in the Creative Trust program, which will match their surplus to create a Working Capital Reserve Fund. They will continue to match surpluses for the next two years in order to grow this fund. Basically, this translates into the continued success and health of Theatre Passe Muraille and more opportunities for all of us theatre artists (and audiences) here in Toronto.

This is proof, too, that investing in the arts can pay off and that theatres are sustainable. Isn't it nice to hear good news amidst all the economic doom and gloom?

As a thank you to their Toronto audiences, TPM is offering all tickets to their current production, them & us, for $15. For more details on this, click here. To read the whole press release, click here. And, in case you needed one more, here is the story on Torontoist, too.

It's nice to know that there are people out there who believe the arts are worth supporting. And that not all of them are necessarily artists.

All the best to Theatre Passe Muraille for another great year!

A rant to precipitate change...

I really, really dislike not having an internet connection chez moi. The plan to go web-less was originally conceived as a cost-savings measure and was feasible, given that I surf from 9-5:30 Monday to Friday. But since I've gotten more heavily involved in the online community this plan leaves me feeling very disconnected on the weekends, as if I'm missing some very important appendage. It must be remedied in the coming weeks, time to bite the bullet and succumb to my www(dot)addiction. Because now I have spent the first two hours of my Monday catching up on everything I missed over the weekend and well, that's just silly.

Or maybe I'm just grumpy because I got all the way through the hundreds of posts in my Google Reader before blogTO posted today's Morning Brew. What can I say, it's how I like to start my morning.

There is more to this post, though. This one is about politics. Again before noon, I know. I apologize. But I can't help it. It's in the air. Can you feel it? Like electricity, crackling, igniting...sending shock waves through the populace. It is the eve of an historic event and the world is watching.

As Capitol Hill prepares for the inauguration of the 44th President of the United States of America the national news networks seem unable to report on anything else. Other events of global importance are occurring, to be sure, but there is nothing to top this. It is literally all anyone can talk about. Well, almost. A few people up here in the Great White North seem not to have forgotten that our very own government will be back in the office in the coming week. Whether or not it will be as glamourous, as exciting, as momentous, or even as productive as the political process occuring to the South remains to be seen. I imagine not. Nevertheless, the return of Stephen Harper to his throne office should be of some significance to those of us residing in Canada as, following a deep freeze in government only barely matched by our frigid winter weather, change may be on our door steps, too.

To begin, no one (at least no one in the artistic community) has forgotten Mr. Harper's now infamous comments about "ordinary Canadians" and the arts. While outrage over his statements and budget failed to sway the outcome of the Federal Election in October, the artistic community's passion on the topic has not yet been exhausted. Not even close. Rather, in what has become to many a war for our survival as a culture, we have set about proving him wrong in every way we possibly can. The rise of the Department of Culture has certainly helped in the call to action and now arguments about the reality of living and working as an artist in Canada are just about everywhere.

The latest example is an article in the Toronto Star, part of a series examining the lives of Canadian artists, extolling the virtues of other government's relationships with their artists and proposing some changes to our own troubled association. I realize that in these darkening economic times supporting the arts seems rather indulgent and unessential, but the reality is that culture create jobs. No, they are not automotive or industrial jobs but their value is no less and the product they create is equally as exportable and profitable. How do we decide, really, who deserves a "bailout?" According to the Star, last year arts and culture generated $84.6 billion in economic activity, which is approximately 7.4% of our GDP, and "employed 1.1 million Canadians directly and indirectly." Isn't that worth supporting?

And heading into the battle over the budget is a new leader, arguably a cultural contributor himself. Michael Ignatieff heads to the Hill as the new leader of the Liberals when Parliament at long last resumes later this month. Ignatieff, who could perhaps be placed amongst the "gala-going elite" moreso than most of us humble artists, has one of the most impressive C.V.s in Ottawa. Amongst his many accomplishments are sixteen books, including three novels. One of the most recent, The Lesser Evil: Political Ethics in an Age of Terror, has been dispatched to Mr. Harper as required reading by one Yann Martel, who almost a year ago vowed to send Mr. Harper a new book every two weeks for as long as he is prime minister. While there has been little talk of the Coalition by Mr. Ignatieff in recent days, Mr. Ignatieff writes in his book that "liberal states cannot be protected by herbivores." In light of such, I would encourage him to go for the jugular...

Finally, the political buzz is that the soon to be President Obama will be heading North to see us in the near future. In his attempts to temper expectations amongs the American people, which have soared beyond proportion and reason since the election, Obama has Canadians wondering what his administration might mean for us. While this interdependence is unfortunate in many respects (they could inadvertently make things much worse here, as we could to a lesser extent there), it is what keeps the lines of communication open. It is, I think, what keeps us from killing each other. At any rate, Roy MacGregor at the Globe and Mail has some excellent suggestions for beginning the conversation between the American head of state and ours (oh wait, he isn't really, is he?...scratch that). It is an excellent look at the paradoxes of Canadian politics and of the Canadian character. Certainly an important introduction to any visiting diplomat. At the very least, he'll be familiar with The Hockey Song.

Suffice to say, changes are taking place all over and with greater speed than most of us can wrap our heads around, even in this post-twitter global village we inhabit. The whole thing is, in many ways, a mess. It would almost be laughable if it weren't so serious. But there is something in the wind that suggests we may yet come out on top.

On the one hand, the future is bleak. But on the other hand, maybe it isn't.

The Weekend.

Well, it is Friday and it would figure that I've come down with a nasty cold. I plan to eat some chicken soup and spend my night in bed with a good book. Hopefully it will clear up quickly: there is so much I want to do this weekend! Like go see some Next Stage Theatre Festival!! With any luck I will make it to at least one show and I would encourage you to do the same...Until Monday, my friends. I promise lots of fun posts next week! Enjoy your weekend.

Good Morning!

Where to begin today...I actually have so much I want to blog about that I can't keep up. I had a story I wanted to share today, but I think it's going to have to wait. Instead, we'll stick to fun things and current events. First, the fun:



I found this website via Malene Arpe's Stargazing blog. You upload a picture and they turn it into a version of the now iconic Obama poster. I think this is really exciting. Obama-mania is on. Oh, and that is my no-neck picture in case you were curious.

Next:

CLICK HERE! OR HERE! Simon Ogden of The Next Stage and Ian Mackenzie of Theatre is Territory (AKA Praxis) teamed up for an excellent post about theatre blogging in Canada in 2008. It's easy (and totally worth it) to get lost in the links. Being a newcomer to theatre blogging here and abroad, I found it very educational. The Google Reader list grows ever longer. I also got a shout out! Thank you, gentlemen, you made my day. Now go read it, seriously.

Being Erica.

I have about 3 seconds to write this blog post as I am on my way to further punish my body pilates, but I thought it worth mentioning, mainly because it's brand new so you can still get in at the beginning, that I really like the CBC's Being Erica. Maybe it's just that I relate. But I actually think it's one of the more interesting ideas I've seen recently. And I like her. There's also a blog, which I have not yet had a chance to read. It's on CBC at 9 on Mondays. Let me know what you think!

File a brief. Or something legal. For free!

The TAPA Blog just posted about a clinic offering free legal advice and services to artists in Ontario. Artists' Legal Advice Services, or ALAS, is a collection of lawyers and law students who donate their time to help address the legal needs of Ontario's actors, artists, writers, filmmakers, dancers, musicians, et al. They generally deal with "contracts, defamation, copyright, trademarks & royalties or other payments." For more information, click the link above, or click here.

This just in: Praxis Theatre = Awesome.

If you're part of the theatre scene in Toronto you probably know the Praxis Theatre blog. One of the best-written blogs out there, it is a source of frequent inspiration for many of us--it is the theatre blog we all aspire to write. I'm happy to report, too, that it (and, by association, Praxis Theatre) is run by a very friendly bunch of theatre artists. And they have offered some wise words in the last week or so... While you're surfing, see what it is they do (other than write a darn good blog). Up-coming: a production based on The Stranger (also translated as The Outsider) by Albert Camus, one of the books I most enjoyed in high school. It's called Stranger. I will be checking it out, you probably should too.

Required (Canadian) Reading

I just finished reading Joseph Boyden's 2008 Giller Prize winning novel, Through Black Spruce. I happen to think it's brilliant...and would be brilliant as a play (because I'm partial) or film (because, well, it would).

Boyden is an incredibly gifted writer/storyteller. His latest effort follows the younger generations of the Bird family; their story began in his first novel Three Day Road. Will, the son of Xavier from Three Day Road, lies in a coma in the hospital in Moosonee. Annie, his niece, sits by his bedside. Both recount, in their own way, the heartbreaking road that led them to this place...I won't say anymore, other than that I highly recommend picking Through Black Spruce up. And, while you're at it, start with Three Day Road. The first novel isn't crucial to understanding the story of the second, but it can't hurt. And they are both wonderful Canadian books.

This will, indeed, rock you.

Last night was my first trip to the theatre in longer than I care to think about. This hiatus from theatre-going has been due largely to a) lack of funds and b) lack of theatre (I lived in Michigan for nine months, it isn't exactly a hot spot for theatrical production). So I ventured out last night with a very cool friend of my mother--The Sludge--to see We Will Rock You at the Panasonic Theatre in Toronto.


Now, this show isn't exactly high art, which is apparent in the fact that you can bring your intermission beer to your seat with you in a plastic cup, but I like Queen's music so I was willing to give it a shot. And I went in more or less knowing what to expect: We Will Rock You was in the West End when I was in London and my friends used to second act it on a semi-regular basis. We won't even go into the ethics of second acting. I only mention it to explain that I already had a good idea of the premise. Which is far fetched. And kitschy. But, in fairness, it does lead to some funny moments.

Set 300 odd years in the future, the global corporation running the world has banned music, namely rock and roll. Think Brave New World and 1984. Probably more Brave New World. Anyway, there are rebels, of course, called Bohemians, who oppose the corporation's rule. They are only waiting for their leader to fulfill a prophecy and overthrow their oppressors. Enter Galileo Figaro (the names are totally hilarious and ridiculous all around), the one they've been waiting for. He dreams of music and frequently spouts lyrics from old songs. I'm sure you can more or less imagine where it goes from here...The funny is all in the cultural references and double entendres that arise out of the mish mash of lyrics and names that form much of the dialogue--the main Bohemian before Galileo shows up is a big guy named Hillary Duff. You get the idea...

Overall, it isn't really a great show. The choreography is stiff, the staging is perhaps the worst I've ever seen outside a high school auditorium, the video screens that form much of the set get old and are rarely used in an interesting or innovative way, and almost none of the costumes are good. This all being said, there are some golden moments. Everyone has a good voice and there is really something endearing about the performance of Erica Peck, who dropped out of Sheridan College's Musical Theatre Program to take the part. And Jack Langedijk pretty much steals the show around the end of the second act. Plus, they've rewritten much of the show to include Canadian cultural references--including a shout out to Maple Leaf Gardens.


I think it's worth seeing--it is fun. But here's the catch: I wouldn't pay regular price for a ticket. I am all for supporting our local artists and the cast is, I believe, all Canadian. But in the current economy, you'd be nuts to pay full price to go see this. Fortunately, our dear friends at Mirvish have some good promotions happening. Namely, $20 Tuesdays. Every ticket in the house is $20 on Tuesdays. Failing that, rush tickets day of are about the same. So if you need some fun and you like Queen, drop the $20 and check it out.