A Digression and Don Giovanni

Writing is incredibly difficult for me. I have a problem with motivation. 

In high school and university, I was someone who would always stay up until 3am, writing a paper the night before it was due. This worked for me. I typically did my research in advance, but the writing was always last minute. I procrastinate. And I need that deadline to loom menacingly before I feel the whip crack and get down to business.

When it comes to this blog the deadlines don't exist. I try to make deadlines for myself, typically it's "before [month] ends." But the deadline comes and goes, and I have yet to begin a new post.

Part of my problem is that I'm uneasy with this style. Essays I've written in the past have had a thesis and a structure. The blog is much more conversational. It's my opinions, stories, and voice. I try to work on my writing style, which results in me taking too long to form some sentences, not long enough on others, getting bored, and mostly skipping the editing process. "I'll come back to it later," I think. Yeah, that'll happen.

Another point on the motivation side of things is, I don't even know if anyone is reading my blog. I certainly don't expect anyone is sitting at home, wishing for another post from me as if I was Allie Brosh. 

And yet, I have to be careful about what I write, because someday someone might Google themselves, find my page, and read what I wrote about them. The theatre scene in Toronto is insanely insular, and I have no desire to offend anyone. In fact, I want most people in the Toronto theatre scene to hire me, work with me, and like me. Which also means that I really don't want to make myself sound bad. A lot of the work I do is challenging, but I don't want this blog to be a "Dear Diary" of whining, complaining, and general self-pity. Boring.

So, let's see if I can get to it.

This past fall, I did my third apprenticeship credit on Opera Atelier's wonderful production of Don Giovanni. It was certainly the most challenging apprenticeship I've done to date, and quite possibly the most challenging job I've had in any field.

I was working with incredible people, and Opera Atelier is a very familial company. Co-artistic directors Marshall Pynkoski and Jeannette Lajeunesse Zingg directed and choreographed respectively. Stefano Montanari was the guest conductor from Italy, who brought so much energy into the hall and the music. There was so much respect in the rehearsal hall, between the artists, and the production staff. The singers, artists of the ballet, and the chorus were all great people to work with. I admire their talent, and have fond memories of great conversations with many of them.

The design was astoundingly impressive. Bonnie Beecher's lighting design created a show that looked dark but was visible. Gerard Gauci's set design was inspired — gorgeous and fun. Martha Mann's costume design was impeccable. I've never seen anything like these outfits, and no words could do them justice.

I was the apprentice stage manager under Kat Chin, stage manager, Jessica Severin and Nan Shepherd, assistant stage managers. We all had different responsibilities in the rehearsal hall. I set up the kitchen at the top of the day, and kept the coffee in supply throughout our long rehearsal days. I followed along with the music, timed each page, as well as the opera as a whole. I kept blocking notes, ran errands, did paperwork. It might not sound like a lot, but competing demands are a challenge to juggle. I helped out wherever I was needed. The biggest challenge was the schedule. We rehearsed six days a week, and the average length of my day was eleven hours. At that point, your life becomes work, commute, and sleep. The best thing that can be said about that schedule is that it doesn't last forever.

I hit my stride during the performances. I love being in the theatre, and the crew at the Elgin is awesome. During the run of the show I was backstage, on headset. I followed along in the score, giving bar number placement whenever it was requested. I had a microphone connected to the paging system backstage, and would page artists to the stage five minutes before their entrances.

I spent a lot of time during that week contemplating whether I prefer the rehearsal period to the performance period. The truth is, I don't think I could ever choose. The real joy is seeing something transform over the course of the rehearsal period into performances. They're inseparable for me.

When the show closed in Toronto, we had a two week hiatus, before taking the show on the road to Columbus, Ohio! It was my first tour, and it went very well. It was challenging, to be sure. We were there for a little over a week, in which time we had to rehearse with the new chorus and the new orchestra, adjust to a new stage, and tech the performance in a new theatre. The crew in Columbus was so welcoming, and it was a pleasure to work with them. The Southern Theatre was a gorgeous, old venue.

I will always hold memories of Don Giovanni very dear.

His Greatness is Aptly Named

Sometimes, a really great opportunity isn't a really great paying opportunity. When these situations arise you have to weigh the pros and cons, and see if participating in something awesome without getting paid would be better for you than finding a minimum wage, part-time, not awesome job. Such an opportunity presented itself to me this summer.

SummerWorks had ended on August 14th, I had signed a contract with Opera Atelier to begin work on September 19th. It didn't seem like finding a part-time job was in the cards. Of course, you never know how long it might take to find a job, it could take a day, a week, a month or longer. In my experience, it seemed to always take about a month, and I only had a month in which I would've been able to work anyway. The temp agency knew I was available, but no one is hiring temps in this economy. It seemed like I wouldn't have much to do.

In May, I went to The Proust Project at Canadian Stage's Festival of Ideas and Creation. There I talked to my directing professor from the University of Guelph, Ed Roy, about what I was up to, and what he was up to. I told him, if he ever needed an apprentice to let me know. In August, Ed emailed me to tell me he was beginning rehearsals for His Greatness, written by Daniel MacIvor, on August 23rd. He asked if I would like to be the apprentice stage manager on the show and of course the answer was yes! ... But, unfortunately, that couldn't happen. The show didn't open until September 22nd, and I was beginning prep week for Opera Atelier on September 19th. I wrote Ed back and asked if I could help out for the duration of my availability, and I ended up with the title Production Assistant.

I went to the majority of rehearsals, and helped out however I could. I filled a lot of prop liquor bottles with water, was on book whenever the stage manager, Sharon DiGenova, was otherwise occupied, ran some errands, and did whatever other odd jobs I could conquer.

When you work in theatre, the weeks are long. It can range from difficult to impossible to get the time off you want to for other events that arise. This is something I’ve resigned myself to (or perhaps, am working on resigning myself to,) since making the decision to have a career as a stage manager. The best part about being a volunteer was that I didn’t have to cancel my previous engagements, and was able to take the time I needed to go to my nephew’s first birthday party, and a family wedding.

Also, I got to sit in the audience and enjoy the show on opening night. The last time I was able to do that on a show I worked on was when I directed a one act play in fourth year. Since then, I’ve either been backstage or in the booth on every other show I’ve worked on. My personal preference is for the booth, because then at least I get to watch the show.

This production of His Greatness was staged at the Factory Theatre’s Studio. Working on this show was the first time I’d been in that theatre since I saw Banana Boys in 2005. It occurs to me that I’ve seen my two favourite productions of all time in the very same theatre. His Greatness is hands down my favourite production I’ve ever worked on. I tend to get very attached to my productions and will defend every aspect of it in the face of my friends’ light criticisms. With His Greatness, I was so convinced of its excellence that I couldn’t even imagine my friends criticizing it. And I had every reason to believe so. My guests loved this production, as did the critics. In her review of His Greatness, Sonia Barker writes, “As I write this review I feel immense pressure to be able to do it justice.” I couldn’t agree more. I feel more pressure still, because I knew this play inside and out. I watched this play grow from the ground up as I spent four weeks with it. I could go through the entire script, analyzing every line, explaining my thoughts on each decision, pinpointing my favourite moments, drawing attention to every little detail.

But that's just not feasible. So a brief review is what I can offer instead. I'll do my best to do it justice.

His Greatness is billed as “A potentially true story about two days in the last years of the great American playwright Tennessee Williams.” The story takes place in a hotel room in Vancouver, November of 1980. The Playwright (Richard Donat) and his Assistant (Daniel MacIvor) are in town for the premiere of the Playwright’s latest play. The Playwright wants an escort to accompany him to his premiere, so the Assistant goes out and hires the Young Man (Greg Gale) for the evening. These three actors had incredible chemistry. I particularly enjoyed the scenes with all three of them, as the Assistant and the Young Man vie for the Playwright’s attention. And still, there was so much more between all of them.

The Playwright and the Assistant have spent the past fifteen years together, and know each other very well. Their relationship is at times comedic, as they’ve learned over the years how to spar. The first scene of the play has a lot of this, and as such, is one of the most enjoyable to watch. The Assistant is also a caregiver, and knows how to motivate the Playwright when he doesn’t want to get out of bed, or to reassure him when his feelings have been hurt. Their relationship was once romantic, but now, the much younger Assistant plays a kind of father to the Playwright.

The Assistant selected the Young Man for the Playwright, knowing the Playwright’s type. The Young Man, then, is what the Assistant would have been like fifteen years ago. The Young Man and the Assistant predominantly have a competitive relationship. In the course of one night, the Young Man thoroughly wedges himself between the Playwright and the Assistant, and undoes much of the Assistant’s work.

The Playwright and the Young Man’s relationship has many different aspects. They are conspiratorial, as they arrange to get cocaine behind the Assistant’s back. After the premiere, the Young Man is in awe of the Playwright’s talents, and the Playwright soaks up the adoration. They are sweet with each other, as the Young Man undresses for the Playwright, or as the Young Man reassures the Playwright of his greatness after the reviews cause the Playwright to doubt himself.

The entire action of the play takes place in the bedroom of a hotel suite, a stunning set designed by Kimberly Purtell, and one of the most elaborate sets to grace the Factory Theatre Studio stage. In the first scene, the Assistant rouses the Playwright out of bed in time for a radio interview that does not go very well. The Playwright takes out his frustrations on the Assistant, as the Assistant tries to calm him down. The Assistant urges the Playwright to get ready for the premiere. In the next scene, the Young Man enters and searches the room; the most “incriminating” item he finds is the Bible. The Assistant enters with a suit bag and the two men start preparing for an evening at the theatre. The Assistant forbids the Young Man from getting any drugs for the Playwright. The Young Man hits on the Assistant, but the Assistant resists. The Assistant tells the Young Man what he can expect from a night with the Playwright. He tells the Young Man that the Playwright may ask the Young Man to read to him. The Playwright enters in the middle of an anxiety attack, claiming he doesn’t want to go to the theatre. The Assistant points out the Young Man to the Playwright and his demeanour changes instantly. The Assistant leaves the others alone in the room while he gets the car. The Playwright and the Young Man flirt, and the Playwright asks if the Young Man could procure cocaine. They leave for the theatre. In the next scene, the three men return from the theatre flying high after their successful opening night. The Playwright talks about being inspired to write a new play; the Young Man expresses his new aspiration to act in a play by the Playwright; the Assistant discusses the magic of theatre, and the importance of believing in the moment. While the Playwright is in the bathroom (read: doing cocaine) the Assistant makes a move on the Young Man, and the Young Man responds, “You’re not my type. I don’t go for faggy guys.” The Playwright returns, and excitedly exclaims that they should stay up all night and wait for theatre reviews. The Assistant’s mood has taken a drastic turn for the worse. After he makes a few cutting remarks, the Playwright asks the Young Man for privacy, and demands that the Assistant leave the room. After the Assistant has gone to his own room, the Young Man comes out of the bathroom, and undresses for the Playwright. As act one ends, the Young Man is about to read a passage from one of the Playwright’s plays.

Act two begins the next morning, as the Assistant returns to the Playwright’s hotel room with the reviews. He finds the Playwright up and despondent. Upon learning that the Playwright has been out, the Assistant assumes that the Playwright has read the reviews. He begins to comfort him, when unexpectedly the Young Man returns from some errands he ran for the Playwright. The Young Man claims he’s now on staff. The Assistant assumes the Young Man is trying to con them by sticking around for longer than was agreed upon when the Assistant picked him up the night before. The Playwright appears to be feeling better after taking some “pills for his headache” and says that he’ll be writing a new play for the Young Man to star in. The Assistant is confused by the Playwright’s good mood, and asks if he’s read the reviews. The Young Man finds the review in the trash can, the Playwright reads it, and locks himself in the bathroom. The Assistant tries to convince the Young Man to leave, but he isn’t budging. When the Playwright comes out of the bathroom, the Assistant tries to comfort him, insisting that bad reviews will make him stronger. The Young Man is a fighter, and he doesn’t take to this suggestion. He claims they have to fight back; He thinks they should threaten the critics, or at least talk about threatening them. The Young Man calls out the Assistant, claiming that he doesn’t have the Playwright’s best interest at heart. Things get heated. The Young Man says that the Assistant claimed that the Playwright couldn’t get it up, and is insane. The Playwright asks the Assistant for some privacy with the Young Man, the Assistant is loath to leave them alone, but settles for going into the bathroom rather than leaving the hotel room completely. The Playwright demands to know what exactly the Assistant said about his sanity, and when the Young Man realizes that the Playwright is afraid of being insane, he comforts him, telling him he’s a magician and his plays are magic. The Assistant returns from the bathroom with nasal spray, which he understands to mean that the Playwright is doing cocaine. The Playwright insists that he’s not, and asks the Assistant to call the theatre to arrange an interview with the critics, saying he “deserves a rebuttal to slander.” The Assistant says he’ll call from his room, and leaves the other two men alone. While he’s away, the Young Man does a line of coke on the desk, as the Playwright tells the story of how he met the Assistant. The Young Man realizes that he has more in common with the Assistant than he first imagined. When the Assistant returns, he throws the nasal spray on the bed, where the Playwright dives for it and uses it right away. The Assistant quits his position, and explains to the Young Man everything he’ll need to know about caring for the Playwright. As the Assistant goes to leave, the Playwright recites a little joke they have, “You owe me twenty dollars!” The Assistant throws the money on the bed, squaring up his debt with the Playwright and leaves forever. The two men can think of only one thing to do in his absence: more cocaine. The final scene finds the Playwright and the Young Man coming down several hours later, listening to another negative review on the radio. This scene feels so empty, as both men are filled with despair. The Playwright insists the Assistant will come back, but he is beginning to lose hope. The Young Man realizes that the Playwright doesn’t have any money, and decides that it’s time for him to leave. As he goes to exit, the Playwright offers him twenty dollars, much less than the previously agreed upon price. The Young Man realizes it’s the twenty dollar bill that the Assistant left, and doesn’t take it, saying “He’ll probably want it when he comes back.” The Playwright is left alone on the stage.

The Assistant returns for the final monologue, informing the audience that the Playwright died a few years later in the bathroom of a hotel in New York, having choked on a nasal spray bottle cap. He tells us that he and the Young Man both died of AIDS. He claims that although there is no hope for our characters, there is hope because we, the audience, came to the theatre, and believed in something in the strange, dark, magical theatre.

Kimberly Purtell also designed the lighting which featured many practicals on stage. Lyon Smith was the sound designer, creating beautiful transitions out of a Beethoven composition. Nina Okens was the costume designer, who found simple and elegant pieces that suited the characters impeccably. Ed Roy’s direction was absolutely sublime. And Sharon DiGenova calls a great show.

All in all, I don’t think it would be possible for me to love this play more. It is simply outstanding, and I feel so privileged to have been in this rehearsal hall will these amazing and talented people.

My SummerWorks: 5 Plays in 2 Days

[I started writing this post over a month ago. Then the whirlwind of a production that is Don Giovanni took all my time. Now it is very late, but I am still determined to write about the five plays I saw at SummerWorks.]

The Safe Word was presented at The Theatre Centre, and as such was the only play I saw that wasn't at Theatre Passe Muraille. It was written by Nicolas Billon, and directed by Lee Wilson. It's a play about relationships, sex, and growing up. 

In The Safe Word, a man (Daniel Briere) moves into a communal house where no one reveals their real names, and instead are granted nicknames from the other housemates. The man is named Smitten after he first meets his female roommate, Mildred (Samantha Espie), while she is in a towel and she claims he is a smitten kitten. Their chemistry is palpable, and their dialogue is sharp and cutting. Mildred is a grad student studying Byron, she is cynical, smart, and seemingly uninterested in Smitten. The other roommate is an older gay man from Eastern Europe, nicknamed Boris (Randy Read), who plays a lot of chess. These three roommates spend time together, exchanging barbs and revealing bits of themselves to each other. 

Each character has a monologue about one of their earlier sexual experiences. Mildred mourns couches. In high school, people would start out making out on couches, but now that she's older, that step gets skipped completely, and people go straight to the bedroom. And in the bedroom, there are expectations. Boris talks about being a gay teenager in Eastern Europe however many decades ago. Somehow, he attracted the attention of the most popular girl in school, but was obviously not interested. He couldn't figure out how to turn her down without revealing his secret, so he asked her what she hated most, and when she answered chess, he decided to become immersed in chess.

Later Mildred discovers Smitten editing his online dating profile and offers to help Smitten out with his profile. Smitten goes on a few dates with a very hot woman nicknamed Catnip (Ieva Lucs). On the first date they go to a club, where the music is so loud, there's no chance for a conversation, all they can do is dance. When Smitten returns home drunk and flying high after his date, Mildred is jealous, then repulsed when Smitten makes a move on her. On Smitten's second date with Catnip, they sit in a cafe, and Catnip texts and ignores Smitten for a few minutes before he decides to leave. No sooner is he out the door, than Catnip texts him "How badly do you wanna fuck me?" and he's right back in the cafe again. Later they meet up in a hotel room, where Catnip admits that she is married, and shows Smitten her rape kit. She has a powerful monologue where she lays down the rules, and tells Smitten he can take it or leave it. Smitten is crushed, he was interested in this woman, and a relationship. One of Catnip's rules is "no kissing" and Smitten's response after hearing all the rules is that kissing is a deal breaker for him. Catnip responds, "If you want me to kiss you, you'll have to order me to." Catnip also tells him if she utters the safe word, he is to stop immediately. The safe word is his real name. The scene ends there, and later we see Smitten arrive back at his house, hollow. Mildred is awake, and he sits next to her on the couch. She begins the normal conversation of insults, but Smitten stops her and tells her that his name is Matthew, and asks her to just call him by his real name. When she does, he tells her, "My name feels safe in your mouth."

It was a good production, it made good use of the space, and the sound and lighting designs were effective. I thought the actors handled their roles well. It was funny, cute, and sad, all at the same time.

Exit, Pursued by a Bear is the title of a play presented in Theatre Passe Muraille's Mainspace, and one of the most famous stage directions of all time. This play featured a live band onstage (Ronley Teper's Lipliners), and several puppets.

In Exit, a young street performer woman (Adriana Disman) meets a homeless man (David Schaap) while she is pretending to be a statue. He tells her about his idea of forming a union for homeless people. She doesn't understand, and neither do I, why a union might be necessary for homeless people. She begins to visit him often, and they forge a relationship. He reminds her of her father, who was a stage director, and died while planning a production of A Winter's Tale. I'm unclear as to why their relationship exists, and why the homeless man reminds her of her father, other than the fact that her father was a member of Equity. It's hard to get behind a play, when you can't get behind the main relationship. The young woman is stalked by a bear in her dreams, and wants to escape it. Yet the bear is also intrinsically linked to her father, who once told her that he preferred to think of himself as a Papa Bear, rather than a descendant of apes. To escape the bear, she attempts to cage it, and to kill it, but she only truly overcomes the bear when she stops, puts on a red tutu, and dances with it. It was a beautiful moment, but that doesn't mean I understood it.

The bear puppet was controlled by two people (Anders Yates & Leah Fay Goldstein), and it was magnificent. It was undoubtedly the best part of the production. There were also several salmon puppets, and the members of the band wore salmon headbands for a sequence. The shadow puppets had potential, but were poorly executed.

Strange Mary Strange was in Theatre Passe Muraille's Backspace, which was a great space for such an intimate performance. Strange Mary Strange was incredibly well written by Evan Tsitsias, and wonderfully acted by Sarah McVie, Emma Mackenzie Hillier, and Catherine Rainville.

All three actors were portraying Mary Strange at different parts of her life. Catherine Rainville was Sexually Curious Young Mary, Emma Mackenzie Hillier was Sexually Promiscuous College Mary, and Sarah McVie was Trying Hard to be Sexually Normal Present Mary, being haunted by her past selves.

I enjoyed this play a lot, and thought it was exceptional. It was also incredibly uncomfortable and tense. When she was very young, Mary Strange went on a trip to Rome with her parents, where she saw a beautiful, masculine statue that flicked her sexuality on like a switch. After that she was always trying to find ways to scratch her itch. Her mother reprimanded her, and told her that polite girls don't scratch there. When she was in college, Mary Strange turned to prostitution as a way to scratch her itch. Part of this was problematic to me, as Mary tells the story of how she got into prostitution. She was gang raped by five men while she was passed out, who took a picture of the event, and left her the picture and a hundred dollars. Instead of pressing charges, Mary sends a note to one of the men that says, "Who's next?" Part of me realizes that Mary has every right to be in control of her own sexuality, but rape is never okay. In the present, Mary is engaged to Gary. Normal, trustworthy Gary. She is trying very hard to be normal, but she is obviously a hypersexual woman, haunted by her odd, hypersexual past. In the climactic moment, young Mary reveals the most disturbing part of Mary Strange's past, where she essentially forced her father into molesting her. The three Marys argue amongst themselves: Young Mary didn't know it was wrong, but her father did. I think blame is useless in this situation. Shortly after this disturbing event, her father leaves Mary and her mother. Short of taking Mary to a child psychologist and being honest about the situation, I think that leaving is the best thing the father could've done.

So, yes. It was an incredibly uncomfortable play, and the audience was tense and silent as it trickled out of the theatre. It left us speechless.

The other play I saw in Theatre Passe Muraille's Backspace was Still Life, by lemonTree creations. It was a collective creation piece, and the dialogue was unscripted. On the one hand, this gave the dialogue a natural feeling, but it was also awkward. The monologues were well written, but they were frequently upstaged. In one situation, a monologue was being given while two men stripped to their underwear in the background, and in another, a couple was reuniting and reconciling in the background. The lighting design by Michelle Ramsay was probably the best part of the play.

Still Life is about a gay bashing that took place two or three years ago in Toronto. I remember when this happened. I was working at Buddies in Bad Times at the time, and falling in love with that theatre and this city. I was shocked that gay bashings could still occur in this city, and that the perpetrators have never been caught or brought to justice. I knew Still Life was about that event. I wanted very much to like the play, I wanted it to be good. I knew it had a good message, and I tried to give it a chance. Even while I was watching it, I was telling myself, "It might get better, maybe by the end, the whole thing will have come together." Unfortunately, that was not the case. It was rough, and overly preachy. It was constantly upstaging itself. The characters were not particularly interesting. "It was about a gay bashing" is the most elaborate synopsis I can come up with for Still Life.

Little One was by far the best play I saw at SummerWorks. It was staged at Theatre Passe Muraille's Mainspace. It was written by Hannah Moscovitch, an up and coming Canadian playwright, and directed by Natasha Mytnowych. Kimberly Purtell's lighting design was eerie and evocative. Michael Gianfrancesco's set and costume designs were simple and perfectly suited to the story.

Little One is about two adopted children, Aaron and Claire. Aaron (Joe Cobden) tells us the story of when his adoptive parents adopted a second child, Claire (Michelle Monteith). Claire is a disturbed and dangerous child, with a dark past. She was found abandoned, and the adoption agency named her Claire, when she was unable to reveal her name to them. Aaron's parents put a lot of pressure on him to be a good older brother to Claire. He has to be careful to not say certain things, and not take offense to things that Claire says. When Aaron's goldfish goes missing, Claire claims she flushed him because he was dead. Aaron is unconvinced, and believes Claire flushed him alive. Claire becomes obsessed with the neighbours across the street, the man and his mail order bride from Asia who arrives with a Hello Kitty suitcase. When the bride, named Kitty, murders her husband, and is found by the police sitting outside the bedroom with the dead man inside, muttering "I love you" repeatedly, Claire's interest only increases. One day, Claire walks towards Aaron holding a knife, Aaron asks her what she's doing with it, and if she'd give it to him please. Claire stabs Aaron, and, as he does every time Claire does something that makes him uncomfortable, he calls out, "MOM! It's okay Claire... MOM!" Aaron is rushed to the hospital, and Claire's psychiatric appointments are increased. As "a reward for handling being stabbed so well," as Aaron puts it, his parents give him a cat, which he names Sushi after his dead goldfish, but mostly he calls her Little One. Aaron is very protective of Little One around Claire, but eventually Little One goes missing. Aaron is very suspicious of Claire, who claims to have nothing to do with it. Eventually she tells him that Little One is under the across the streets neighbours' porch. Little One was hit by a car, and Claire tried to treat her by feeding her whisky. Little One died of alcohol poisoning. Claire constantly repeats, "It was just a cat." But Little One was not "just a cat" to Aaron, and he is unable to forgive Claire. He begins asking Claire what her real name is, and she refuses to answer. Throughout all of this, their parents are willing to forgive Claire for everything. As a bonding exercise, they decide that the family should go camping one weekend. Aaron and Claire are expected to share a tent, which Aaron diametrically opposes. In the tent, Claire tries to take off Aaron's pants. He freaks out, and Aaron our narrator, steps out of the scene and tells us he went to his parents and they realized that in all their attempts to protect Claire, they didn't realize they might need to protect Aaron from Claire. After that, Claire gets sent to a mental institution. But then we go back into the tent, and see how the rest of the scene played out. Claire tried to take off Aaron's pants, and when he freaked out, she told him she was just joking around. Then she told him her name was Kitty. He told her he wasn't mad, and everything would be okay. Then he went to his parents and as good as told them that Claire had molested him. 

I found this play heart wrenching and the characters sympathetic. Aaron did what he had to do to survive, but Claire was just a deranged child who didn't understand her own actions.

The play made great use of the space, with a young girl (Kaylie Lau) playing a small piano in the downstage right corner of the stage. Aaron was confined to the stage, but Claire spent time on the catwalks around the audience, and walked directly into the audience at the end. The writing was phenomenal. It was extremely well cast and performed. I would see this play again and again. I'm sure there would be new things to discover each time.

So, those were the five plays I saw at SummerWorks. A small sampling of everything there was to see, and yet an interesting selection of pieces.

SummerWorking

While I was in rehearsal and production for This Wide Night, I was also in rehearsal for the SummerWorks show I stage managed: Oh, Ryan.

Oh, Ryan was a one man show, written by and starring Shawn DeSouza-Coelho. The co-directors were Emma Dines and Chai Lavie.

I enjoyed the fact that I was working on two shows, one of which was a two hander with one director, and the other a one man show with two directors.

They were also both in Theatre Passe Muraille's Backspace — which meant more time with Colin Harris in the booth! There was also a second technician who I've run into a few times in the past around town. Her name is Erin, and she also did an excellent job.

Our lighting designer was Raha Javanfar, whose design really created several different atmospheres on a bare stage.

It was my first time participating in SummerWorks and I had a great time. Of course, Summerworks losing (or not receiving) a large part of its funding this year affected the mood, but I'd say it created a sense of camaraderie and community. We artsy types band together under pressure or threat.

SummerWorks was ten days long, and we performed Oh, Ryan seven times. At first, we had shows every other day, but then for the final four days of the festival we had four performances. It was nice to have so much time off during the first half of the festival, but I preferred the four days in a row. I'm not really used to taking time off between performances, and running the show every day helps me keep my head in the game. When we were performing it every other day, it felt like we were coming back to it after a long break. 

Oh, Ryan is about someone dealing with grief and loss. The character of Ryan loves to tell stories, and connect with his audience. Shawn, the writer-performer, is also a magician, so there was an element of magic to the show. There were three audience participants in every show, and it was interesting to see the different ways they contributed to and reacted to the magic on stage. The third audience member had the task of giving something a name. The names chosen covered a range of experiences... from cloud to joy to awkward, from grass to lark to perfect, it was a moment I looked forward to in every show.

The play was very poetic and metaphorical. Throughout the play, Ryan builds a constellation out of white paper balls. To Ryan, stars represent people, and moments in his past. Constellations represent the connections forged between people, or else linking the moments in Ryan's life. The final star in the constellation is created by the entire audience, and represents the connection they made in the theatre. Ryan tells his audience that the most important thing is believing, and in the climactic moment of the play, he levitates the final star.

The absolute best part of working on this show was the amazing people I got to work with. It was one of those incredible experiences that happens between theatre people where the friendships are formed fast and strong. I looked forward to my Oh, Ryan rehearsals, and they were even worth enduring the awful commutes to Etobicoke and Kitchener.

So, during SummerWorks I ran the sound board, called the lighting cues, and watched seven performances of Oh, Ryan. But I also saw another five performances. More on that to come.

Twelve Wide Nights

I haven't written in a long while, and that's not because I've had nothing to write about. Quite the opposite. In fact, I've been very busy.

I returned from my vacation to Winnipeg in June and jumped right into rehearsals for This Wide Night. This Wide Night was written by Chloe Moss, and is the winner of the 2009 Susan Smith Blackburn Award.
Our production was produced by the CAEA approved co-op, Mermaid Parade. MP was formed of myself, Jon Michaelson, Astrid Van Wieren, Claire Burns, and Lindsay Anne Black.

It's a British play about two lower class women who were cellmates together in HMP Cookham-Wood — one for manslaughter, the other for theft and drugs.

They formed a tight bond in prison — partly friendship, partly a maternal relationship. Lorraine, who is approaching 50, has the longer prison sentence, and when she is released her first instinct is to head straight to Marie's flat. Marie, who is 30, has been out for a few years. She is past her probation period, and might be slipping back into bad habits. Her casual alcohol abuse is definitely worrisome, especially to Lorraine, who associates alcohol with her own bad temper that led directly to her manslaughter charge.

When Lorraine arrives at Marie's flat in scene one, Marie is hesitant to have her there. Over the course of the eleven scenes, Marie plays the role of generous hostess, petulant child, party girl, caregiver, lost soul, and more. She careens from one emotion to the next, occasionally at complete opposites. Marie was played by the very talented Claire Burns, who tackled an incredibly difficult role with talent and style. She made really interesting choices, and brought a delicate balance to Marie's tenderness and fierceness.

Lorraine was played by Astrid Van Wieren, who is one of the most kind hearted women I've ever met. This play was a bit of a pet project for Astrid and her longtime friend, Jon Michaelson, who directed This Wide Night. Astrid's love for the play was evident in every rehearsal, and I also believe she truly loved the characters. She loved the woman she was portraying, as well as feeling Lorraine's love for Marie. Lorraine's arc is a bit more straightforward than Marie's. Lorraine is stressed, anxious, and slightly shell shocked to be on the outside after twelve years in prison. She has an estranged son who was taken away by social services long before she committed her crime. Her son, Ben, and her surrogate daughter, Marie, are the two most important people in her life. She has fond memories of her son, although she hasn't seen or heard from him in twenty-four years. At the urging of a social worker, Lorraine writes a letter to Ben before leaving the prison. She receives his response around the midpoint of the play. She enjoys a reunion with him, and looks forward to many more dates with him. She takes pride in his success as a teacher, though she may feel that he succeeded in spite of her, and certainly not because of her. There is a sense, perhaps, that he was remarkably unscathed by his childhood with an alcoholic mother, his removal from her care and adoption at age seven, and later learning that his birth mother was imprisoned for stabbing a man. Despite Lorraine's infractions, it is obvious that she always loved Ben very much. However, during her second meeting with Ben, he tells her that he sees no need to have a relationship with her, and he just wanted to meet her once to sort through his emotions and perhaps experience some closure. Lorraine accepts this, perhaps because she doesn't believe that she deserves his forgiveness or love, but also because she has grown a lot from the extremely anxious woman she was at the top of the play. And, hey — she got to meet him once. She'll carry her pride for her son and her gratitude that after all, he will be okay.

In essence, this play is about the relationship between two very different women. A relationship that was forged on the inside; that might not be able to survive on the outside. Their freedom is so tentative and delicate. Marie feels the need to protect her freedom, and Lorraine is terrified of her own. 

Lindsay Anne Black's awesome set captured the claustrophobia of the play. The play was performed in Theatre Passe Muraille's Backspace, and the already small stage was turned into a studio apartment no larger than a prison cell. 

David DeGrow's lighting set many different moods, and established a large range of times of day. 

Mike Conley and Emily Derr were our pair of sound designers who wrote gorgeous and haunting scene transitions, predominantly on guitar.

And what can I say about Jon Michaelson? He was a generous and dedicated director, and his love and passion for the play was evident on stage in every scene. He also attended ten out of twelve performances.
My buddy in the booth was one Colin Harris, who attended the University of Guelph with me. He was a great guy to work with, especially when you have to spend so much time with the people you're working with.

As the stage manager on this show, I had the joy of being in rehearsal with these lovely people. It's also the longest run of a show I've done to date, at twelve performances long, from July 20th to 31st. I drove a big van full of props and set pieces from our rehearsal space to our performance space. (This might not have been the best idea, and there were a few scary moments when I unexpectedly wound up on the DVP.) I coordinated with front of house staff as to when we would open the house, close the house, and allow late comers to enter. I preset the props and stage at the top of every performance, and ran the sound while calling the light cues. 

It was a great experience... and if you missed it this time around, keep your fingers crossed. We're all hoping for a remount.

Squeezing in "Lu Xun" in June

Sometimes, things just work. The stars align, the puzzle piece falls into place, the phone rings at the right time.

Such a thing happened to me a few short weeks ago. I returned home from my cottage on a Sunday night, feeling kind of low that chances were I wouldn't have work for the next two weeks, making it three months since the last paycheck.

Then, the phone rang. It was Nan Shepherd, that wonderful human and stage manager, who previously had hired me for the Glenn Gould School opera double bill. She asked, "What are you up to for the next two weeks?" I tell her I fly to Winnipeg on June 19th, she tells me the show wraps on June 18th. The next day she called me back to confirm it - I had a paid position as an apprentice stage manager!

The show I worked on was part of the LuminaTO festival. It was called Lu Xun Blossoms, and it brings to life five short stories by Chinese writer/philosopher Lu Xun. The cast was half Chinese, and half Canadian. The play was performed half in Mandarin, half in English, with English subtitles. It is one of my favourite things when two people have a conversation in two different languages. Sometimes, I'll speak English to someone who speaks French to me, but we can both understand each other. That is what drives the dialogue in the play - the idea that they are still communicating despite speaking different languages. For the most part, the Chinese spoke Mandarin, and the Canadians spoke English. It was very interesting to listen to.

Lu Xun Blossoms was the North American premiere of the first ever Sino-Canadian collaboration. It was originally produced in Shanghai several years ago, in collaboration with the Shanghai Dramatic Arts Centre. The piece was created and directed by the artistic directors of Theatre Smith-Gilmour, Michele Smith and Dean Gilmour. Dean and Michele (or Mimi) also both acted in the play.

The six actors all played several roles, sometimes within one scene! They brought characters, animals, imaginary creatures, and even objects to life through their physical acting. The third Canadian actor was Adam Paolozza who, along with Dean and Mimi, (though not at the same time,) studied at l'école LeCoq. The Chinese actors were Guo Hong Bo, Zhao Sihan (or Sunny), and Wang Yangmeizi (or Meizi). Hong Bo and Meizi spoke very little English, we had a translator, but it was amazing watching the way they learned to communicate with the Canadian actors. Sunny's English is excellent, and she's able to carry on a conversation. I found out that she learned how to speak English by talking to people, which is just amazing!

All three of the Chinese actors took turns playing Lu Xun at various stages of his life. Dean played old Lu Xun, remembering his past. It was truly an amazing play, and I feel so privileged to have been a part of it. 

I was backstage during the performances, and my duties included helping out with a few quick changes, tracking props from one side of the stage to the other, handing off props, receiving props, and I got to cue a confetti cannon! There was no set, it was a black-box type of stage, and several props were mimed. It sounds minimal, but in reality there were probably over fifty props. I had to be a well oiled machine, and do everything the exact same way every performance. Truth be told, that didn't really happen. We were making discoveries all the way through. For example, during the second performance, I realized that it would be helpful if I moved an actor's hat for him at a certain time. So, for the remaining performances, I did so. 

It was definitely an interesting process, and things were a bit rushed. I hear this is typical of festivals. We were waiting on a shipment from Shanghai, that didn't arrive until the beginning of tech week (or rather, tech couple-of-days.) So, I was trying to track props, not knowing what we were missing, what was a stand-in for now, and what would even be in the package from Shanghai. In the end, it all worked out quite well. It wouldn't be stage management, without some problems to solve!

It was amazing to work with Nan again. She teaches me to trust my instincts. She has such confidence in me, and she's teaching me to see that in myself. With Nan I learn through doing my job, watching her do her job, and having wonderful conversations with her. It's lovely to have a comrade, a friend, a co-worker, and a teacher all in one.

Art Orgy = Sexy Substitute for Real Work

I haven't been working lately. And related to that, I haven't had money to go see shows. So you can see how this leads to me not having anything to write about. 

But, when you can't work, you volunteer. So, when a friend (/swim instructor/ dance classmate/ friend of a sister of a friend) from childhood, Jessica Fleming, announced that she was putting together an event, I jumped at the chance to help out. 

The event was an "art orgy," the second annual art orgy in fact. It was called TAC.TWO.ART.ORGY and it took place at a bar/cafe on Queen West, Tequila Bookworm. We took over the upstairs space, which was two rooms and a patio. 

On the patio there was a glitter station, where people could bedazzle themselves. It was a lot of fun to see twenty-somethings walking around with glitter and sparkles all over their faces, as if they were kids at summer camp who just got out of arts & crafts. Unfortunately, there was a small thunderstorm during the event, so the patio was a bit damp. That didn't stop many people, though.

[Let me preface this next part by saying I am not any kind of expert when it comes to art. I haven't taken art since high school, and I don't know the right terms. I appreciate art though, and have always loved going to galleries.]

Throughout the two rooms, artists had their pieces on display for the event. Brittany Anderson occupied one wall with her large abstract painting. It reminded me of a fire in a rainstorm. Corey Durand's small photographs were arranged in a line. They were beautiful and made great use of light. Most were colourful, but there were a few black and white ones as well. Paige Stewart is an illustrator and photographer. She brought the most pieces out of all the artists, and her display mostly included photographs, with a few illustrations, and three tiny clay models. Her wall was tightly arranged, with photographs making a kind of collage. It was five photographs tall, and five photographs wide. Her mixed media included portraits in black and white, photos of a cat, and illustrations of Mario with Bowser's head in his hand. The three tiny clay models were plants, from the game Plants Vs. Zombies. Lana Filippone is a ceramic maker, her piece was porcelain, and named "people say a lot of things." Karl Leung had four abstract pieces, and adorned the wall around his pieces with quotations from artists and art critics about what art is and what art should do. Mike Ruszczycki is a graphic artist and photographer. He had four pieces from his series Monster Mash. They were funny, morbid, and pornographic. They were photographs in sepia tones, of naked people in odd poses, with skulls imposed over their faces. They also had funny quotations, such as one about a threesome, and another about Bieber's balls.

In the front room, the bands were set up. There were three acts throughout the night. Luke Michielsen played first. He's a solo singer-songwriter, though he had some support from one of the later band's drummers, Sean Graham. He played his acoustic guitar, and some harmonica. To which I said, "There is not enough harmonica in music today, we need to bring that back!" Seriously. It's awesome. His songs were sweet, sad, happy, and fun, and had fun titles like "Dandelion/Dandy Liar." 

Next came the band Dress Rehearsal, composed of Sean Graham on drums, Ryan Watson on guitar, and Kevin Graham on guitar and lead vocals. They played mostly original pieces, although they did cover a Luke Michielsen song, and were pretty rockin'. 

Last was Most People, a duo composed of Paul McEachern and Brandon Degroote. They were the least traditional band of the evening, self-described on their myspace page as Indie/ Pop/ Psychedelic. Paul played guitar and Brandon played bass, and they played one drum kit between the two of them. They were also accompanied by their computer playing soundscapes and beats. They reminded me of The Besnard Lakes, Grizzly Bear, Andrew Bird, and Fleet Foxes smashed together. Though, of course, they're completely original. Unfortunately, they were unable to finish their set, which begs the question: Who moves into an apartment above a bar and then calls in a noise complaint to the cops before midnight?

My job for the evening was to run the bands. I had to let them know when to start, and when to stop. Mostly, I just got to listen to music all night, and discover three new acts that I quite enjoyed. 

Between Dress Rehearsal and Most People, there was a small dance flash mob to Annie Lennox's "Walking on Broken Glass," choreographed by the same woman who choreographed the whole evening, Jessica Fleming. My other job was to cue that up, but there were technical difficulties, and we had to take a do-over. But, hey! What's an art orgy without a minor screw up? I also composed a mini playlist to follow the flash mob, featuring Imaginary Cities, Camera Obscura, Mother Mother and Arcade Fire. Because I will take any opportunity I can to make people listen to the music I like.

Overall, it was a great night, with good music, fun people, tasty drinks, and a whole lotta art.