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.

Paper Shines

I love going to theatre. That's the amazing thing about the career I'm pursuing. I can work on my own shows, and enjoy them, and I can support friends, colleagues, and theatre companies. Even if I go to a show where I don't know anyone who worked on it, or am not familiar with the theatre company, I'm supporting the arts. I'm a contributing member of the society I want to live in: A society that cares about the arts.

These past two weekends, I have seen a lot of theatre. This might seem backwards, but I'm going to start with the show that I saw most recently.

This past Saturday, I went to the closing night of paper SERIES, written by David Yee and directed by Nina Lee Aquino. 

I'm familiar with both of these artists, as Nina directed my favourite play, Banana Boys, which David Yee acted in. That was five and a half years ago. I was in first year, and it was the first time I ever saw theatre and realized how different and challenging it could be. I was hooked.

But I'm talking about paper SERIES now. It was performed in the Tank House Theatre at the Young Centre for the Performing Arts. It's a black box type of theatre. The set was extremely minimal, which suits black box very well. There was a desk at centre stage, with a two foot tall stack of paper on the [audience] left side of it. The stack of paper was lit in such a way it looked as though it was lit from within. There were two chairs on stage as well, and these were moved by the actors frequently throughout the performance. Off to one side, there was a record player sitting on two large stacks of paper. There was no real record on it, rather, there was a circular piece of paper. During the scene shifts, an actor would put a new, differently shaped piece of paper on the record player that related to the scene you were about to see. 

paper SERIES is just that. It's a series of six short plays, all connected by paper. There were six performers; each had a scene where they were the main character.

First was PAPER burns, starring Marjorie Chan. It was the story of a woman who goes into the family business of counterfeiting money. As a child, her father taught her that reputation is the most important thing. He built his reputation on being the best counterfeiter. He claims his money is able to pass "the burn test." When their warehouse is raided by cops, he sets everything on fire and goes out the front door, where he is shot down. The Russians, who were paying for this job, are not pleased and want Baht (Chan) to complete the job. She tries to make money that won't burn, and in the process realizes that her father built his reputation on a lie. It simply can't be done. In the end, she comes up with a cunning way to deal with the Russians and maintain her reputation. When they come to pick up the money, she makes them wear masks because the ink fumes are potentially dangerous. What she is really hiding is the smell of gasoline, as she has soaked the place in it. As the Russians are realizing they're unhappy with the money, she walks out the front door and sets the place on fire with the Russians still inside. She has the six pieces of paper needed to start a new life — a driver's license, a birth certificate, a SIN card, a health card, a passport, and a credit card — and on she goes.

The second play was PAPER cuts, with Rosa Laborde as Hope. This one was possibly the funniest as Hope tries to write a break-up letter to her boyfriend, John. "Dear John, It's not me, it's you. That's a lie, it's you. Love, Hope." She writes letter after letter, as John sleeps. She tries different tactics. Brutal honesty, gentle lies, and most hilarious of all, she re-adopts her Russian accent from PAPER burns, and writes "Dear John, We are international group of terrorists. We have kidnapped your girlfriend. If you ever want to see her again, bring $500,000 to locker... 19 at the bus station. But actually, that probably won't work, so just assume that you will never see her again. Love, ... nameless group of international terrorists..." In the end, she uses a metaphor to convey the truth honestly. She writes that she has a papercut, so small you can't even see it, but it hurts.

Next was PAPER dolls, starring Rebecca Applebaum as Mutt. She is a young girl, who has been shunted about from foster home to foster home. She makes paper dolls, and imagines them to be her Scottish father and Chinese mother. The dolls tell her the story of how they lived in the Annex and were happy, how they died in a car crash, went to heaven and made a deal with god, who prefers the name Angus ("God is Scottish!?"), to watch over and protect their daughter until she's 20. It was a very funny piece, with paper cut outs of cars, a dog, a house. When the cars collide in the crash, a handful of shredded paper gets thrown in the air. It also touched on issues of racism, with Mutt talking about how the nun at the orphanage says Mutt is unwanted because she's a half breed. Also, the character has no other name besides "Mutt." I found this aspect interesting, as I know the playwright, David Yee, is of Scottish and Chinese descent. 

The next piece was the most physically comedic, PAPER tears starring Nico Lorenzo Garcia, a waiter in a Chinese restaurant, named Wisdom, (his co-workers' names are King, Calm, and Love,) who decides to personalize the fortunes in the fortune cookies when he overhears a man who is on a date in the restaurant on the phone with his wife. His co-workers join in the fun, and the restaurant gets a reputation for having the most uncanny fortunes. This piece had hilarious sound effects, including the repeated sound of a wink. That was also the moment where my stage management sense started tingling, and I thought, "This would be difficult to call!" The climax comes about when Love writes a fortune to an attractive girl, whose boyfriend receives it instead. The boyfriend pulls a gun on Love, King comes out and pulls a gun on the boyfriend, a friend of the boyfriend comes in and pulls a gun on King, Calm pulls a gun on the friend, and the friend pulls out another gun on Calm. "It was a Mexican standoff in a Chinese restaurant!" Wisdom tells this whole story in response to an interviewer's question about whether or not he has any restaurant experience.

PAPER folds followed that piece, completely changing the pace. Byron Abalos delivers this monologue in response to his girlfriend who has just broken up with him. Interesting note: his girlfriend is played by Laborde, and Abalos played the sleeping boyfriend in PAPER cuts, so this piece is an alternative break up between the same actors. In PAPER folds Symbol's (Abalos) girlfriend is breaking up with him because he didn't kiss her one time, several months ago. Symbol reminds her of how when they met, he gave her his phone number inside an origami crane. He says that that one time he didn't kiss her was just one paper fold, and it takes so many more folds to build a relationship, or an origami crane. He makes her one last origami crane, and every fold he makes he labels as a part of their relationship, "our first kiss, the first night we slept together, meeting the parents..." and so on. In the end, he leaves her with the crane. PAPER folds might have been the weakest piece of the evening, but that doesn't mean it was bad. It was much slower paced, much less comedic. It was also the starting point for the entire series. In the playwright's note, Yee writes that he wrote Paper Folds for a fundraiser after becoming obsessed with a book on origami. From there, he became obsessed with paper, and wrote several short pieces, many of which didn't make it into paper SERIES. 

From the weakest, we went to the strongest for the final piece. PAPER route could be expanded to a full length play, and if it ever is, Kawa Ada should be cast in the role of Isaac again. Isaac is an immigrant to Canada from India, where he was a doctor. In Canada, he is a taxi driver. He tells his story to his fare, when she notices that his taxi driver license has been replaced with his medical credentials. He tells the story of how he met his closest friends, who are all taxi drivers in Canada who had been doctors in India. One day, they are driving along the DVP in two cars, a limo and Isaac's newly paid off, waxed taxi cab, on their way to pick up one of their friends from the airport. A truck jackknifes across all three lanes of traffic, and the friends narrowly escape being crushed. But then they notice that the man who had been driving behind them was thrown from his car and landed on the trunk of Isaac's cab. The man is a doctor in a Toronto hospital. His pulse is weak, and the ambulance won't be arriving anytime soon. Isaac performs a tracheotomy on the doctor to open his airway, but he has lost a lot of blood. The doctor's blood type is on his donor card, and one of them is a match. They find syringes in the doctor's car, and perform a transfusion. The police arrive and arrest the men; they are detained for a few hours and then released. The doctor doesn't press charges. He is, in fact, grateful to the men for saving his life. In celebration of their feat, all of the men replace their taxi licenses with their medical credentials. It was played mostly as a one man show, with Isaac impersonating his friends for his audience. It was a thought provoking piece. It was funny, poignant, sad, happy. It was a high note.

All six of the actors were commendable. They supported each other well, and owned their pieces in their own right. 

I seriously hope this play gets remounted or goes on tour. It deserves a longer life. It's definitely one for the books.

Omelets and Clocks

So, continuing on. 

After my blog post, rehearsals continued as scheduled. Then, at exactly the halfway point between first rehearsal and final performance, the stage manager had to step down from the production for health reasons.

That was stressful. It was especially difficult because I liked the stage manager so much, had been happy to be learning from her, and was worried about her. 

There were four rehearsal days where we didn't have an official stage manager, during which time I tried to be both stage manager and assistant stage manager. I continued to take blocking notes, set the space up for rehearsal, and prepare myself for when I'd be backstage during the production. I also wrote up the schedules, sent tons of emails, and started the rehearsal, called breaks, and started the rehearsal again. This is stuff I've done in the past, but it was the first time I'd been unexpectedly thrown into it. I was relieved when the new stage manager arrived at the beginning of tech week.

Kristin McCollum was the new SM, and she was wonderful too, in a very different way from the previous SM. In some ways, it's hard to know the exact differences between them because tech and show week are so different from standard rehearsals. It's also actually not uncommon to have a rehearsal stage manager and a production stage manager.

Tech week was crazy. I was in the theatre for sixty hours that week. I was tired, to be sure, but I also knew one thing that kept me going: I would rather work long hours in the theatre day after day, then spend one more hour working in a shoe store. It was long, to be sure, but it was a pretty smooth tech week all things considered. I did my part, taping out a props table, setting spike tape, labelling dressing rooms, and light walking. Then in the evenings, we had our various rehearsals.

In the first opera, Bizet's Le Docteur Miracle, there were four singers, two non-speaking extras (or "supers"), and three ballet dancers. There were probably upwards of twenty props, and about six or seven quick changes. During the overture alone, the set doors probably opened and closed twenty times. Backstage was a flurry of activity, that had to disappear every time a door was opened.

The set for both operas was a wall, approximately twelve feet high and thirty feet wide, with double doors in the centre, and another door on either side of the double doors. Sight lines were a bit of a nightmare. Especially during the first opera, when we had nine performers backstage and two ASMs. Not to mention the size of the costumes! The girls' skirts were very wide, as the design of Docteur was eighteenth century. The costumes were borrowed from Stratford, and they were beautiful. The singers all wore wigs, too. Our soprano lead wore a wig that was made to look like her own hair. Instead of having to style her hair every night, the wig and make up ladies (excuse me, the wonderful wig and make up ladies) could just stick the wig on her head, and voila! Hairstyle.

Allow me to summarize Le Docteur Miracle. Laurette is the daughter of the mayor, or Le Podestat, and she is in love with Captain Silvio. Le Podestat will absolutely not allow his daughter to marry a soldier, and he despises Silvio. Silvio, banished from Laurette's house, hatches a plan to win her hand. He poses as a servant in Le Podestat's household. He prepares an omelet for Le Podestat. When Le Podestat and his wife, Veronique, leave for an after breakfast walk, Silvio reveals himself to Laurette. Of course, Le Podestat discovers them and chases Silvio from the house once more. Veronique enters with a letter from Silvio, in which he claims to have poisoned the omelet so recently eaten by Le Podestat. Enter le Docteur. Early on in the opera, we are made aware of Docteur Miracle's presence as a traveling charlatan, selling remedies for what ails ya. He tells Le Podestat that his death is imminent, and demands a ridiculous amount of money for the cure. When Le Podestat is hesitant to pay, Miracle says that in lieu of pay, he will instead take the hand of Laurette in marriage. Le Podestat agrees, since Miracle isn't a soldier. Miracle gives the remedy, and exits quickly with Laurette. The remedy reads, "You are now cured by your son-in-law, Captain Silvio, who never poisoned you." Le Docteur, of course, was Silvio the whole time. Laurette and Silvio enter once more, and are forgiven and blessed by Laurette's parents.

So, if you can imagine the singer who played Silvio, changing to a servant, changing to le Docteur, changing back to Silvio, you can begin to imagine how busy it was backstage. Silvio had a coat and a hat, the servant had an apron, a vest, an eye patch and a hat. Le Docteur had a coat, a hat, and glasses. And he was wearing a pony tailed wig.

The second opera, Ravel's L'heure espagnole, was a complete breeze by comparison. For L'heure we had five singers and five or ten props. We had the same wall with three doors, but whereas for Docteur the doors were magical (people would exit stage left and immediately enter stage right), for L'heure they were set. Stage right was the entrance from the street, center stage went into the rest of the house, stage left went to the clockmaker's tool shop. The stage itself was the clockmaker's shop. There were three large clocks onstage. Two were upright and one was prone and was used as a seat. The design for L'heure was 1950s, and it was beautiful. The clocks, which in the original script were grandfather clocks, were gigantic alarm clocks.

To summarize L'heure espagnole, it's about a woman whose husband, the clockmaker, is not particularly interested in sex. Every Thursday, he tends to the municipal clocks, and she has an hour to spend with her lover. However, this week a client, a muleteer, arrives at the clockmaker's shop before he leaves, and the muleteer stays to wait for the clockmaker. The clockmaker's wife, Concepcion, has to figure out a way to get rid of the muleteer, Ramiro, before her lover arrives. She asks him to take a clock up to her bedroom. He exits with the clock as the lover, Gonzalve, enters.  Concepcion realizes her plan is flawed, as Ramiro will return once he's done. She convinces Gonzalve to get into a clock, and when Ramiro returns she tells him she changed her mind, and she now wants this clock taken to her bedroom. While he goes to get the clock he just took out, Don Inigo Gomez, a banker, enters the shop. He hits on Concepcion and she rejects his advances. Ramiro re-enters with the first clock, and then takes the clock containing Gonzalve out, Concepcion follows. On his own in the clock shop, Don Inigo decides to get into a clock and wait for Concepcion to come back. Instead, Ramiro comes back to watch the shop. Soon after, Concepcion re-enters and claims that the clock is going backwards, and she simply can't have that. Ramiro exits to get the clock containing Gonzalve. The real reason Concepcion is trying to get rid of Gonzalve is because he keeps composing poetry, rather than getting on with it. Don Inigo reveals himself to Concepcion, and at first she thinks he's crazy for being in the clock, and just wishes he would go away. Then the things he says start to hit close to home for Concepcion, as Don Inigo says that young, poetical lovers are often inexperienced. Ramiro comes back with Gonzalve in the clock, and asks if he should bring the clock containing Don Inigo up to the room. Concepcion agrees, and Ramiro unwittingly takes Don Inigo to her room. Concepcion asks Gonzalve to leave, but he doesn't. She goes up to Don Inigo. Ramiro enters again, and shortly after Concepcion follows, again unhappy with the clock. Don Inigo was stuck in it. Ramiro fetches Don Inigo and the clock down again. Concepcion suddenly realizes how sexy Ramiro is, and she invites him up to her room, without any clock. The clockmaker returns to find two men in his shop, one of whom is stuck in a clock. The clockmaker sells his clocks to Don Inigo and Gonzalve, who don't want the clockmaker to realize their real reason for being there. Concepcion and Ramiro enter together, and the clockmaker apologizes to his wife since she doesn't have a clock for her room. Luckily, Ramiro passes by every day, regular as clockwork, so he will tell her the time. 

The challenge for this opera was obviously the clocks. They had to be light enough for one person to carry, and big and strong enough to enclose a person. They had false backs that went up against trap doors hidden in the walls, so that the singers could escape to backstage, and re-enter the clocks from backstage. The clocks had large doors on the sides for the singers to get in and out of onstage too, of course. There were also little circular doors where the number 12 was, so that while the singers were in the clocks, they could open this small door to see what was going on and to sing, of course. So, while L'heure espagnole was much easier than Le Docteur Miracle, I had to help singers get in and out of trap door/clocks, and move the clocks about backstage. 

So, that was it. My first apprenticeship credit, and my first time ever working on an opera. It was a really fantastic experience, with great people all around. 

It's been a week and a half since the final performance, and I think I finally have the music out of my head.

Eh bien, et maintenant, l'opéra!

It's been an extremely long time since I last posted. This is because, up until quite recently, I haven't been up to much. I was working a retail position, and making money, and feeling complacent. 

I was quite unhappy with the retail position for a few reasons, not the least significant of which was the fact that I wasn't doing something theatre related. Even worse, I was struggling to force myself to look for something theatre related. But finally, I did. I sent out resumé after resumé, cover letter after cover letter. Nothing much happened. And then, an acquaintance I met at TIFF suggested I apply for a position. And then, that acquaintance recommended me to her friend. And then, I got an interview... and after the interview came a job.

I am now working on my first official apprenticeship credit, assistant stage managing two operas. I'm working for the Glenn Gould School at the Royal Conservatory of Music. The two operas are Bizet's "Le Docteur Miracle" and Ravel's "L'Heure Espagnole"... I get to use my French skills and my music skills!

We've been in rehearsal for about two weeks now. It is definitely challenging. Reading along with music is definitely easier when the performers are singing; easier compared to the extremely fast instrumental overture (in Bizet) and various other up tempo instrumentals throughout.

Also, I've done a lot more stage managing than assistant stage managing in my time. There are a lot of similarities, but there are some interesting differences as well. I suppose the differences are more noticeable when you have a clearly divided team. For example, in the past, when I've been a stage manager with an assistant stage manager, I wouldn't tell that person to set up the entire rehearsal space on their own. Now that I'm one of two ASMs under an SM, we have defined roles. The SM deals with the scheduling and booking of rooms, paperwork, blocking notes, and many other things I probably can't imagine on two operas of this scale. We ASMs prepare the room for rehearsal, reset the stage when we're starting over, and distribute and collect props. The tasks are appropriately divided, considering what our responsibilities will be during performances. 

As an ASM working on an opera, I will be backstage during performances. I will cue performers' entrances which will be marked in my score. I will ensure that performers have the correct props before going onstage, and keep track of the props backstage. I will assist in several quickchanges — I can't emphasize the word "quick" enough on this one.

I am so lucky to be working on this production. The performers are amazing. The singers are students of the Glenn Gould School vocal program, and we have dancers joining us from the Ryerson University ballet program. These young people, between the ages of twenty and thirty, are so immensely talented. They are dedicated and focused. I feel privileged to be helping them. 

Not only are these young students incredible, we have an amazing artistic and production team as well. Brent Krysa, the staging director, knows his operas backwards and forwards. He maps the whole thing out in his mind before stepping into the hall. The designers and musicians/music directors are sensitive to the performers' needs and the artistic vision.

I also consider myself incredibly lucky to be working on my first apprenticeship under the tutelage of Nan Shepherd. There aren't words to describe how incredible a stage manager and human being she is. She invites confidence. She is always willing to listen to her team. She recognizes the importance of her position as a person who will continue to influence her apprentices for the duration of their careers, and she is determined to have that be a positive, rather than negative, influence.
And that really is the best you could possibly ask for.

"Innocence Lost": read, summarized, reviewed

Innocence Lost by Beverley Cooper is a play I bought while I was in Vancouver earlier this year. It's a play about Steven Truscott, the man who was wrongfully convicted of rape and murder at the age of fourteen.
Steven Truscott's case has been of interest to me for several years. I remember learning about it at a young age and being appalled that the Canadian justice system would sentence a fourteen year old boy to death. Thankfully, his death sentence was commuted to life in prison, or else this case would be an even darker blemish on Canadian justice. As it is, the case was a serious miscarriage of justice.
This isn't a history lesson on the case, though. It's a review of the play.

Innocence Lost is told mostly from the point of view of Sarah, a fictional character. She is a young and carefree kid at the beginning of the play, whose world quickly gets turned upside down. At first, when Lynne Harper goes missing, Sarah believes that Lynne is okay, off having an adventure. Then, Lynne's body is found. Steven is the last person to have seen Lynne Harper, so he's repeatedly questioned. Then he's charged with rape and murder. Sarah believes in his innocence, defends him to her parents. Act one ends with the trial and the conviction. Throughout the trial, Sarah struggles with what she believes, until she is convinced that Steven is guilty.
During the second act, Isabel LeBourdais, the author of The Trial of Steven Truscott, is asking questions, advocating for Steven's innocence. She attempts an interview with Sarah, but Sarah remains convinced that Steven is guilty. Eventually the book is published, and becomes a national sensation. Everyone is now doubting Steven's guilt, whereas in the first act they doubted his innocence. During the second act, Sarah learns that Steven is out of jail, that he got married and had children. She too grows up and has children. Towards the end of the play, Sarah's fourteen year old son asks her if she thinks Steven is guilty. Her son is learning about the case in school, and he is convinced Steven is innocent. She doesn't answer her son's questions, but she tells the audience about the last time she saw Steven Truscott, as an adult.

Outside the door - there was a man standing. He looked like he was taking a little fresh air, trying to find a place for quiet. I said a quick hello and tried to get past him without disturbing him too much but he looked at me straight on and my heart stopped. Just like it did all those years ago in 1959 when I would steal looks at him through the cracks between my fingers. I paused for a moment and my eyes looked straight into his. And what I saw was innocence.
(Cooper, 2009)

The play ends with a slide displaying the information that Steven was acquitted in 2007, and the original trial was declared a miscarriage of justice.

This play was poorly written, it would be extremely difficult to stage. There are 47 characters, for 10 actors. It seems as though most of the actors are on stage for most of the play. Even if they weren't, costume changes would be difficult to coordinate for so many different characters. So, I get the feeling that it would be extremely difficult to tell who the characters are for the most part. The character names are used infrequently. Some are just called "woman" or "boy" ... and "woman" is meant to be played by the same actor who is playing Mrs. Harper. I find this to be problematic.
There is no action in the play either. It is all talking, speculating, reporting. The characters rarely interact, for the most part they talk to the audience.
I suppose it should be called narration. Even in the scenes where characters are talking to each other, they break the fourth wall to narrate, giving insight into what they are actually thinking.
I am not against breaking the fourth wall, but in this play, it just feels like lazy writing. It feels like Cooper was too lazy to give the characters subtext, so she put it in text. I think she should have had more faith in the actors. There was nothing for them to play with below the surface, because everything they're feeling, they're saying.
What the play does manage to invoke is the distrust that arises in a community affected by tragedy. The way the rumour mill churns. The way people lie for attention, for control. The fear that spreads until anyone can be suspect... even an innocent fourteen year old boy.
The innocence lost mentioned in the title is not Steven Truscott's innocence, but the innocence of a community that doesn't band together in the face of tragedy, but rather gets torn apart.