Thought Residencies: Code Has To Be About Love | Dr Pratim Sengupta

Marcel Stewart is joined by Dr. Pratim Sengupta to discuss thinking with our bodies, Mind Matter and Media Lab, pushing back against symbolic violence, dignity bombs, human beings as pain catastrophizers, technocentricsm, moving through the world with love, the Festival of Live Digital Art and MORE!

*there is slight background noise throughout by way of microphone feedback and an infant doing what infants do. 

**Adrienne Wong and Xianzhi Jason Li facilitated the workshop ‘Artificial Intelligence in Live Performance’ that Dr. Sengupta references.

Marcel Stewart
Coming up a conversation with Dr. Pratim Sengupta. We talk about moving through the world with love, techno centrism, pushing back against symbolic violence, thinking with our bodies, and the Festival of Live Digital Art. Next.

So, just to start us off, I’d love to give you a moment to introduce yourself and just take as much time as you need to let us know you are.

Pratim Sengupta
Okay, I’m Pratim Sengupta. And I’m a professor at the University of Calgary. I live really between a few disciplines. But the two I most centrally live between are education and computer science, and my specific field is called Learning Sciences. And what I do for research is I design and build technologies that are heavily computational. So the programming languages or computer models or games, that was work I did a while back, but you know, in the now. And that allow us to explore complex phenomena. So flocking of birds, or traffic jams, or forest fires, or urban transportation systems, or racial segregation. And mathematically, they live in a certain kind of frame. And that’s how I sort of I got started. And then the work became more about the people who were being represented in the models, but also people who are interacting with the models. And then I slowly over time realized that the stories with the peoples, the heart is with the peoples. And so that’s sort of where I’m at research wise, the work has taken on a heavily decolonial bent, and anti racist bent through different collaborations. And where I connected with art was, while doing this work of building computer models and programming languages, I started collaborating with artists and building different kinds of systems. Like, for example, what would it mean for artists to be able to cite each other in their creations. And so we did in back in 2012, we did an installation at the MoMA in New York City where we built this crowd sourced network visualization software that allowed artists to input their work, descriptions of their work, tag other artists, that they’re influenced by, tag other artists they want to influence. And so you could see like the world of artists’ social practice, lighting up with different ideas, people and how they’re connected to one another, or connections that they foresee that are not, might not be realized yet. And then since I moved to Canada, I started doing, designing sort of these, what we call now public computing. So taking computer programming languages, and particular models in designing those languages that were originally created by computer scientists, we just take it in public spaces, and completely make it open. Like here is the original code, here is the tech, here is–and what we learned through research is that art is not just about putting an object idly in front of human beings, it’s actually about the relationship and fostering and supporting the relationship between people and these objects, people and technologies, people and new languages. And so that sort of where, sort of, you know, this design of technologies became sort of artistic work, as well as research for me, and then slowly, research became art for me. So we took the flocking algorithm and just allows us to simulate how flocks of birds come together without necessarily there being a leader bird, always, to just three simple rules like cohesion, alignment and separation. If you have a system of 100 birds, and each of the birds you’re trying to align with the closest bird, separate just enough, and then go here, move with a group, then we are going to see the formation of flocks. And then we took that algorithm. And then we modeled flocking of Maple Leafs on Canada Day 2018, at Canada’s National Music Center, and 14,000 people showed up. Many of them used, really interacted with the simulation, but the interactions, where what we did was we allowed people to take a microphone and say anything they wanted, and we took that vocal frequency. And we, we made the flocking algorithm tune with the frequency so that the frequencies were processed and numbers were generated. And those numbers became part of the flocking algorithm. And then we saw the most amazing thing. You know, almost, well, some people did sing, ‘oh Canada’, but mostly people were singing so many other songs all the way from ‘Jingle Bells’ to Islamic chants, to Hindu prayers, to songs in Polish. And near the end of the day, you know, like this elderly person who keeps coming back throughout the day, and slowly walks up to the mic and slowly keeps walking back. And at the end of the day, we’re just about to take things apart. She walks out, and tells me that she wants to sing a song in Polish. And if we still had time, and she said, “It’s a special song, I used to sing it, but 50 years back growing up in the hills in Poland, where my job was to as a little girl was to herd a flock of sheep. And this was the song that they responded to.” And she sang that song in Polish. And she said that I’m going to herd all the birds, all the leaves at the end of the day. So that, you know, and that experience was a profound shift in my life. Right. And there’s this idea called heterotopia, which Michel Foucault talks about, it’s, you know, it’s, these are, these are the brothels in our city, these are the spaces that we tend to overlook, but they exist. And they’re the kings in our, the kings in our heavily normal space. You know, the, the ghettoization of our cities, the nooks and crannies that we know exist there. So they’re actually some of the liveliest spaces in our society where life exists, beyond the bureaucracy, beyond the laws, beyond the coloniality of our everyday existence, right. And I felt like that day, you know, the national anthem ceased to exist. In that space, it wasn’t–And like a switch was flipped in my head that I didn’t go in to decolonize. But the people did. Right, and so it wasn’t about the technology, it was about the people. And yet, there was something about the flocking, there was something about being able to engage with that flow on screen in a way that they could see a part of themselves. Right. So it’s part code part human. But it’s not just–and, this is, I’m still grappling with it. And these are people now in CTR, the Canadian Theatre Review that’s coming out on this. It’s actually being edited by wonderful FOLDA colleagues and academics. Right. And that power kind of things began.

Marcel Stewart
Yeah, that’s amazing. The synergies in that way, right. Yeah. Okay. You like Thank you. I have many questions already about public computing. I’d love you to speak about flocking, I’d love you to speak about. I’d love to go back to it. But I’m curious like today. What is the day? It’s Wednesday, the 18th of October, like what are you thinking about today? Like what’s on your mind? What has been on your mind? What’s taking up your brain space today?

Pratim Sengupta
So right before coming to do this talk, I was doing another interview with colleagues of mine from different departments and disciplines and universities. And we are coming together and beginning this project on reimagining active mobilities, like cycling, walking wheelchair users, in urban spaces through centering marginal experiences of people of color, who don’t even get counted by the city as users of active mobility, you know, in some spaces. And newcomer youth, especially if they’re of color, and they appear Muslim, they are, you know, harassed on public transit. They’re harassed on these in these active mobility spaces. Right. So what does it mean to actually reimagine what environmental science can do, what public health can do, what sociology can do, and what public education can do? If we center the perspectives of these youth in these spaces? And so that’s sort of what I was thinking. Right before and then in the transition period, I was thinking about the experience that stuck with me the most from FOLDA, right. Which is what brings me here. I had a beautiful title, Thinker in Residence, without the peeing in public part. Should sit like this and pee while I’m sitting.

Marcel Stewart
That’s good. That’s good.

Pratim Sengupta
Oh, no, I have a feeling, you know, I would have just started a trend and others would have joined.

Marcel Stewart
Listen, when you gotta go.

Pratim Sengupta
Right. As a cyclist, I often have to do that.

Marcel Stewart
As a parent of a toddler, we have to do that. Sometimes you got to pull over on the side of the road.

Pratim Sengupta
And your child was born during FOLDA, if I remember correctly, right?

Marcel Stewart
Yes. My second born, Correct. Yes. .

Pratim Sengupta
I remember that. I was looking forward to meeting you. And then I was told that oops, he’s a parent. Is another parent.

Marcel Stewart
Nature said “Not today. Not 2023 FOLDA”. Yeah, we’ll come back next year.

Pratim Sengupta
But from FOLDA, what stayed with me the most was–and this is what I was thinking of–Was the ‘Exploring Physical Sound from a Deaf Perspective.’ That workshop. And yeah, she’s Chisato Minamimura I think. And, you know, my best friend is a very physical actor. And he’s sort of this unique nook in the world is he does this one person performances where he plays multiple characters, you write sort of a journalistic theater. Dan Hall, that’s his name. And we kind of grew up together as adults and human beings and person I know the longest in my life and have had, like a really really powerful relationship with him. We know each other for almost a quarter century now. And we’ve been very, very close buddies. And it’s one reason it resonated with me is because of the physicality through which I learned to think as I saw Dan become an actor. Like he taught me that we think with our bodies, and the mind is also a part of our body. And we can become someone else. Never really fully but we can learn how important it is to recognize the agency our flesh and bones have and muscles have in making us feel for others and be with others. Right, and not like completely centralizing everything here, which anyway is a myth. Right? There is this blood circulation that’s happening from all over my body. I’m reacting to society. I’m reading air and there microorganisms that are empowering me and also tickling me all over and that you know, like this is–and we ignore all of that and we say that, “No, there is a mind.” And we will adjust. And in that workshop Chisato, I think almost pinpointed what this was all about. Digital art, live digital art, was all about, it’s about our souls. And it’s, it’s about how we recognize and acknowledge that we are part of a flow with others. And it’s not just the technique. In fact, it’s not at all the technique, right? We can communicate with touch. We can communicate without touch. We can communicate, through stillness. We can communicate through so many different ways. But sometimes in that workshop, some of those communications became feelings that were shared. And feelings that someone else’s feelings became mine. I embodied them. I embodied them. Without even talking. Feelings of safety, like someone touched me. Feelings of safety. You know, it was just when I needed it. And, and to bring alive the very liveliness of what it means to be a part of this thing called life. And if we take that away, we’re left with text that runs on batteries. We call it the computer.

Marcel Stewart
Okay, so now you have me thinking. As I was looking into you, you know, you’re quite a charismatic human being. Love the smiles, you know. Someone who’s so well read and everything, you’re very bright in how you present. And I was struck by, well, I am struck by everything you’re saying and stuff about life and connection and feeling. And like, I’m now curious, is it the ‘Mind, Matter & Media Lab’? Like, could you speak a bit about like, what that is? What you do? And if there’s a way for you to connect some of the things you’re thinking about, about connection and feeling and life into what you explore at the lab?

Pratim Sengupta
Yeah. So I’ll talk about three projects. One of them is an idea that I’ve been working with for over 12 years now. And that has to do with computer simulations of ethnocentrism and racial segregation. And they have been around in the discipline of game theory, which is microeconomics, since 1960s. The dude who actually created that idea and same model, mathematically won a bell prize in the 2000s. Thomas Schelling. And it’s a simulation that’s heavily used as a demonstration of, it’s almost a carte blanche to white folks. That “Oh, yeah, we’re not really racist in every society, naturally ethnocentric tendencies tend to dominate.” And I (inaudible) with you, despite not knowing you beyond a few minutes of our face to face conversations– and some missed emails earlier– that we embody a certain kind of life socially. You know, actually, when I went to buy this, in the store, I was followed. When I went to buy this in this store, I was followed. And the dude who was following me was also of Indian origin. You know, and he had that apologetic look on his face, and I could tell that he has been asked to follow me. You know, I guess I didn’t look rich enough to be able to afford a vendetta. And so technically, and this is, this is what the game theorists would say that, “look, we told you, this is not white folks following of person of color”, right? But what they miss is that what is that system? That was designed to prod this other person of color to follow me? You know, and even if it was their instinct, why? Why did that instinct become so prominent in that moment? Right. And so that’s in relation, you know, we are rethinking the assumptions of that mathematics. The, you know, the economists call it the map of imperfect information, information asymmetry. You know, like, two people don’t exactly have full information about each other’s motives. So they’re operating with lightheadedness. And that’s where the white innocence is built in. “How can you blame me if I didn’t have the full information?” Right? And then, of course, you know, societies emerge to be ethnocentric, and segregation feels natural. And then you start reading the counter stories of redlining. My dad worked in a bank, I’ve seen that redlining growing up on maps in my house. Like if you live in this part of the neighborhood, you don’t get loans. There was a part of the city, southern part of the city that was carved out in a red ink. No loans. And we have no loans for 50 years. What do you get? You get? What do you get? Right? You get the heterotopic spaces, you know, the ghettos, the slums, you know, the brothels? Like they’re all in these spaces. Right. But that’s also where life happens. Right? You know, as an immigrant of color in Canada, I’m acutely aware that if it was 1960s, I wouldn’t be allowed to enter this country. Right. And so every time I I see no claims of Canadian Heritage. Like, really, are you talking about that heritage? Are you talking about the graves that we’re finding. And I’m smiling because (inaudible) crying, you know, as a professor of education on that. But that, to me is, that has now become a project of unearthing white innocence, in the mathematics that empowers so many critically important disciplines for us. Economics, computer modeling, computer science, and all of these then get adopted in public education. So then– I’m hitting my microphone a bit. Oh, oh, this is a microphone. Okay. All right. Sorry. So do we have to retake?

Marcel Stewart

No, no, no. But it’s just when you get really passionate, like I this is a couple of words get missed. Okay. But it hasn’t disturbed anything. Yeah, I just want to get you.

Pratim Sengupta

Okay, so that has now become a project of unearthing white innocence. So now how we’re doing that work is we’re doing interviews in public computing spaces, with people of color, and opening up that model, in its form of symbolic violence, as it was created by the original creators of that model. Instead of trying to fix it, we want the symbolic violence to be part of the findings, you know, or the interactions that the people are having with these simulations. And they are the ones who are then suggesting here is how to resist the tendencies that are represented in those simulation. Here is another way to look at, this here is another way to think about this. Right? And that’s te projec. And we are doing this work with people of color, students of color on campuses, on the post secondary level, teachers and pre service teachers. And these are works that my PhD students do also in collaboration with me for their dissertations. And then another related project; Two of my other PhD students are also doing research on these simulations with similar simulations. You know, like, simulation of Lunar Lander, which is a very common game from the 80s. Right. But let’s just imagine how colonial that game is for a second, right? And it’s not enough that we have destroyed one planet. We’re going to go to other planets and we’re going to do the same and you’re gonna make a game out of it. Just in case we can’t make it out there. Right? And so, when we took that simulation to newcomer youth of color, a lot of them were refugees of color. And this is the work of my student, Megha Sanyal. She’s working with newcomer youth and they have completely transformed everything in that simulation to a memory that they had from the childhood in Kashmir, of crossing a river at night in between two mountains.

There is no game happening. There is a nostalgia that they have that day. And when they started imagining Marcel, they closed their eyes because they said that if we close our eyes, we can actually feel the water. Sorry, this is, this is very powerful for me. Yeah, yeah. So this is the work of pushing back against what Pierre Bourdieu called symbolic violence. Right? It’s the it’s the violence that happens because one form of textual genre becomes the predominant sort of biblically important text in disciplines. Right. And every discipline does that. And if you look at the history of who got to print text, it’s white folks.

Marcel Stewart
That’s right. That’s right. Yeah. It’s

Pratim Sengupta
Literally evangelical project.

Marcel Stewart
Yeah, I just had a long conversation, another thought residency that will be coming out shortly, with a bunch of Black mothers who are also artists, speaking about the importance of oral storytelling and the traditions of West African griots. And like how, you know, over time, who preserves an oral storytelling tradition, when text is the thing that so predominantly is, like what’s honored and held as true? And like, words can erode and change over time over time? So yeah, I’m picking up what you’re putting down. And it’s like, it’s like really resonating with me just around the the importance of preserving cultural traditions that haven’t been diluted by you know, Eurocentric perspectives, beliefs, like whatever that word is, you know,

Pratim Sengupta
And there has been the the other side of this is erasure. So for example, if you ask me, about my family, I can only trace it back 250 years? Because there is no, it’s all gone. I don’t even know what kind of Indian I am. I mean, I’m not tribal, or am I? Am I North Indian, like, what am I right? Like, did I come from the Indus Valley folks? Or did I come through the meta search that happened through different kinds of colonization, right? The Persians came and frayed happened, right? Persians came, there was Chinese trade that was happening. The French colonization came and the British colonized, the Dutch, they were all there. So who am I from?

Marcel Stewart
Right, my last name is Stewart. Right? Like, Okay? You know, yeah. And I look at me, and I’m like, wait a second. Wait a second. The early Stewarts do not look like I look. But similarly, there was a period during the pandemic, when I got really caught up in ancestry.com. And I went in, I went and signed up, paid the money and there was like, a lack of information. Yeah, you know. So I hear you. Yeah, I have those similar questions about myself.

Pratim Sengupta
Yeah. And that’s, you know– Anyway, so it’s like this project globally. I think the colonial Imperial project. It never ended. In fact, it just, it just started. We are just beginning to realize what colonization actually did. And it’s still doing. Imperialism what it is still doing, right. FOLDA was at Queen’s University. I work at the University of Calgary. Neither is real. It is not Queen’s University. It’s not owned by a queen. This place is not Calgary. It’s Moh-kins-tsis, you know. Calgary is somewhere else in a different country. Queens long dead.

Marcel Stewart
Okay, okay, okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay, so you’re talking about flocking, flocking stories? Yeah. And I find what you’re talking about, the Canada Day, kind of Maple Leaf thing, like, deeply profound. I’m curious about, you know, the Luddite in me like is curious about the genesis. Like the process of development, like the kind of the science and the artistry that went into, you know, designing, developing, creating flocking stories. If you could speak to that a bit?

Pratim Sengupta
Sure. So, I think it came from a very personal space

The idea of adding voice into code. It came from a space where someone I knew, very, very closely, a young person. And she was in pain a lot. And I learned that most of her pain she never articulated. And only when it became really, really unbearable, she would. And I wanted to, this was my gift. And when, you know, this is the negative form of that pain, where I just wanted to be inspired by her. And by the way, this is work that I’ve done collaboratively with my colleague, Marie Claire Shanahan, and the young person I’m talking about is also very closely related to work therein. Yeah, and so that’s where that work came from. For me, it’s about love, and the love I feel. And I’ve learned that over time, that code has to be about love. Work has to be about love. And, you know, it’s a hard thing to live by, it’s a hard thing to– love is hard work, I’ve learned. And it’s a gift. But you know, we have to be deserving of that gift. And we have to hold that gift with our hands and really make it a part of our lives. And that’s the work that code did. And so the Genesis story, the real Genesis story is this. And the rest of it was finding an open source algorithm that allows us to actually work seamlessly with sound, open source implementation of the flocking algorithm that allows us to work seamlessly with sound. And my PhD in Learning Sciences was on designing systems that allow us to simulate phenomena like this, multi agent systems. So computer modeling, and programming languages that allow us to create lots of little objects, and give these objects simple rules of interactions. And then so for example, if you’re modeling traffic, we can create 100 cars, just say ask your computer to create 100 objects give them a particular shape. Now each object is going to have to follow three rules: If there is another object in front of it, within less than five feet, it will stop. If another object is ahead of it between five and 10 feet, it will start slowing down. And if the object ahead of it starts moving, it will also start accelerating. Now when we run this simulation, all 100 cars in a line will follow, let’s say, will follow the same rules, right? But what we will see is that as the cars move forward, the lag between the first car starting and the second car starting keeps getting added backward. And so as the cars move forward, the jam moves backwards. Right? And so that’s–we call this phenomenon emergence, similar to flocking, similar to the emergence of an ethnocentric society, right? So something counterintuitive is happening at the aggregate level, but through simple individual level interactions, through the aggregation of these interactions. So that’s the paradigm. That’s the technical part of this, the mathematics of this. And the computer science of this, honestly. And then. So basically becomes a model of designing collective intelligences from simple individual interactions. Right. So that’s a sort of, it’s also multi agent systems is also a paradigm in artificial intelligence. Because it allows us to simulate these phenomena that all of a sudden, they’re doing things that we didn’t predict initially. That we didn’t intuit initially. So that’s the technique of this, from the perspective of what’s happening inside the computer. And then the human phenomenon is really what lends life to it, the dissonance with human societies and human centered societies that we have created through colonization, right? The fact that human beings are at the center and not ants or mosquitoes or birds, I think says everything. Right, and that it’s okay to trample on ants. We kill 1000 Ants, perhaps, you know, like a day, and that’s totally fine. It’s not illegal. It’s fine.

Marcel Stewart
I think on the webpage of flocking stories, a question was written. I’m not sure what your team design that. But I’d love to read it and then ask you to unpack it because I find it fascinating. So, “How do the stories we tell about ourselves, bring us together or force us to seek out new paths?” How would you answer that question?

Pratim Sengupta
Yeah. And so I think so that question was framed by my colleague, Marie Claire Shanahan, and myself for our Paul D Fleck Fellowship at the Banff Center for Arts and Creativity. That’s where we actually incubated a revised version of what we did at the National Music Center. And it became Flocking Stories, it was part musical, and in part, stories about our gender and sexual identities. And that work was led by Dylan Pare, who was a PhD student at that time working with us. But that particular framing comes out of our work at the National Music Center. And so there are two ways to answer that question. One is the answer from a lived experience perspective. And the other is what’s happening on the screen, on the computer. Right? Or through technology? And so I told you, when you asked me about my Mind & Media Lab lab, I told you, we’re going to talk with two projects. I basically talked about one, right? And so this is where I’m going to segue into the next project. Yeah. The next project is a collaboration between myself, Martina Ann Kelly, who is a family doctor and a researcher in medicine, medicine and public health And then Dr. Ariel Ducey, who’s the head of sociology here at USC, but also a scholar of Science and Technology Studies, who studies the moral and ethical dimensions of technology, in professional practice. (She) worked in medicine and more broadly, in sciences. And so, in that project, what we did was we interviewed physicians about their relationships, with physicians and care providers, like physiotherapists and chiropractors. But their experiences of how technology and pain are related in their practices. The relationship between pain and technology. And what we learned was profound. For example, you know, the clinic is–any kind of clinic is– a space of dehumanization. Right? So imagine what happens when you walk into a clinic. You’re not Marcel. You are de-Marcelled, from the moment you walk in, right? Because you become numbers. And those are the numbers that matter because those are the numbers that help physicians give you the proper diagnosis. So you then become a member of a category. You go on a public database, whether you like it or not, because you’re part of this public healthcare system. Right. And in the name of public, your name is just an annotation. And then your numbers become a part of a statistical database that then feeds back into it. So the next time I walk in, if I receive a diagnosis similar to yours, unknowingly, to me, I’m being helped by your diagnosis, right. And so here, both the greater good, and the individual dehumanization are intertwined. And I think the success of the colonial project has been in dishing out these kinds of, you know, dignity bombs to us. Like, “Okay, we’re gonna take away your dignity for a little bit. But here is what you gain.” Right? And so this, if you think about then, you know, what happened in the discipline of botany, for example. It was exactly–if you go to the British Botanical Museum in London, you’re going to find specimens of leaves, carefully preserved that exactly using the same technique that are followed now in classrooms worldwide. But the Brits did that so that they could control the vegetation in a far off land. So that they could replace the natural crops, the natural growth there, with crops that would be economically beneficial for the imperial government. Right. And so their argument was that this is a moral service that we’re providing to uncivilized peoples. Right. And so yes, some medicinal plants were grown. But also tea plantations were put in place.

Marcel Stewart
I mean, of course. Makes sense.

Pratim Sengupta
Right? Yeah. And so this space of, you know, of the dignity bomb, this is something that we are exploring there it through pain and medicine. And it was fascinating to hear what physicians were telling us about–and care providers were telling us–that oh, yeah, I mean, of course, and now there’s a push to actually dehumanize even the practice of medicine. Because we are now moving toward AI controlled systems, rather than human beings who are there, physically, and perceptually present, right. And then, so what we did was we created three connected world immersive theatrical space. And we called it Moral Horizons of Pain. And the first world you walk in is the clinic space, where all you feel is the coldness of touch. Not human touch but the coldness of sterile touch, either a cold glove, or the cold steel heads, on different parts of your body to do measurements, and you’re reduced to a measure with very minimal communication, just like in a cold clinic space. Then the second world you navigate to is the research space, where there– and the research is where your numbers are then brought to or brought in contact with the literature on that particular kind of pain, the research literature. And we actually bring out these articles and we sit down with the visitors and we say that, “you know what, according to this literature, you’re a pain catastrophizer.” That’s a technical category, by the way. So the pain catastrophizer, then, you know, how can negotiate that as a human being right? And then, and then, you know, that’s the drama, right? That’s the theater. Like, here you are. You know, like engage with us. We embodied the discipline, and you are the catastrophizer. So yeah, come at us. And so, original dialogue, not planned, you know, like original interactions, original anger, original frustrations, original classic marital accounts of the wife telling the husband and the husband tell me I still do so. You don’t really feel that pain. Right? And that’s

the EMT coming in and saying that, “you know, we are taught from day one not to believe the patient because they might think they’re having a heart attack, and you might treat them for a heart attack. And that might be very bad because all they were having is probably a panic attack.” Right? And then you get hit with the complexity of belief. Who to believe, who to trust, right? And the fundamental ethics in distrust can sometimes be very helpful. And live with that, right? And that’s the space where we kind of begin to feel the dissonance. And the third space is the moral horizon space, where we show animations, Hadron animations by my PhD student Santanu Dutta, who actually scours through these empirical interviews that we collect, and identifies what are the moral and ethical dimensions of these experiences. For example, we heard from a physician how she treats, how she treated an Indigenous patient, an Indigenous metaphysician treating an Indigenous patient, realizing that every time–so this patient was undiagnosed for many years, because every time the previous physicians thought that they could help this patient, they turn their bodies away from the patient, took a syringe out to inject them, and that act of turning away from an Indigenous person triggers an intergenerational trauma of medical violence on Indigenous bodies. And so the patient refuses the medication and the diagnosis, because it was never explained to the patient what this was for. Right. And so, that little technique, that little technology, that little tube injection syringe is not a little tube. Because it is historically, it is tied to many, many years of violence. Right, and so, so the moral horizon space then becomes sort of the negative form where we actually experience what was missing in the first few spaces. And this paper is also coming out in CTR, by the way in a different issue. And this is. So this work, you know, when we designed that work, I was heavily influenced by counter Holocaust, the Holocaust counter memorials in Germany, right? So the black form, Sol Lewitt’s black form and the black slab in Hamburg that was just there to–it was in front of, in the town square. It was then I think, people revolted against that. And it was then reinstalled in front of the University, Hamburg University, I think. It was just, it was–there were no Jewish children in that town, because all the Jews have been killed during the Holocaust. Right. So the Black Form was just symbolizing the missing Jewish children. Then there is another fountain inverted fountain in the town of Kassel, in Germany, where the town square in Kassel had a fountain that was donated by a Jewish benefactor in 1920s and 30s. In 1939, it was destroyed by the Nazi army completely obliterated. And then in 1981, Horst Hoheisel, what he did was in this tradition of counter memorializing, he built a fountain, then he dug a hole in the ground exactly where the fountain was. Dug a deep, deep, deep, deep hole, wide hole. Bore it down. Took the fountain that he built, dipped it in wet concrete, and then pulled it out from the ground. And now if you go there, you will just see the hollowing the shape, exact shape of the fountain, right. And so this is the negative form. This is, you know, so long spiel, long way of connecting my art and my research here is that, for me, code is negative form. And I see negative form. The form is very grammatical for me and perhaps that’s the artist in me. And for me, it is this form that brings together our collective history. It’s through the collective, it’s through the collective memorializing that is happening in the town of Kassel, right? when I’m standing there, I’m not just standing on a piece of concrete, I’m standing on our shared history of the world. Why is there a holum asking? I am doing the work of memorializing and counter memorializing. Right. And that to me, it’s a more clear and I call this pivots. So a little piece on the screen, could just pivot me into, could invite me into an imagination that Ihave forgotten. Or I have been discouraged societally to imagine, right? And so these pivots are sort of the glues, you know, in our missing desires to be part of collectives of, you know, like, they can actually, hopefully, bring us closer. Bring us together, you know, with one another. And that, I think that’s sort of the–but I think our differences and dissonances are key here. And these are not to be silenced. Right. I mean, so these glues are invitation to come together, but not to agree. And it’s to be different. And to to think critically about why this difference. Right? And what is it that I feel that is so different than someone else? And, is that difference historical, which I think it almost always is. So this is project two. So this is what we can do when we come together, right? And, the third project, I partly linked to that in my description of the Lunar Lander, how it was transformed. The third project is a collaboration with my partner in real life, Pallavi Banerjee, who is a research excellence chair, and a professor of sociology here at UCalgary. And we have this project with–she’s the PI, I’m the co PI–where we work with newcomer youth. And we try to center their voices, and offer an anti racist reimagination of the immigration experience and landing experience. And it’s funded directly by the Government of Canada. And what we’re doing for that project is also all these, bringing together the different heterogeneous imaginations about their experiences of landing, about the first few days of memories of landing about their long term experiences of becoming wanting to become Canadians, right. And what are the pieces that they’re missing? And, and how can we bring in technology in a way that helps them share their stories. So a student of mine, another student of mine, Santanu Dutta, PhD student, he’s working with a group of, he’s working with several groups of young women of color, youth of color, who are just recent refugees, or newcomers in Canada. And some of the groups are actually sharing stories of their experiences of war that turned their lives upside down. And what he’s doing is he’s using the craft of computer animation to actually–he’s working, he’s co designing all these animations with them. Hand Drawn sketch animations, but also computer animations and he’s looking at how they are representing these so far unspeakable and unspoken memories, or perceptions of fleeing from war. Right. And so, and they’re doing this work, not because they’re by themselves, but they’re doing this work, because they brought their friends together. Right? So even creativity is an act in togetherness. So this is the other, the lived experience part answer, one answer along that dimension to that question is, when we come together, we create. Even destruction is a form of creation. We frame it as destruction, but it’s a horrible creation, especially today. What’s happening in Gaza? Right, we have we have a government that I think has lost, to me, has lost all moral right. To be called the democratically elected government. You know, and that’s what’s happening today. And the fact that we have, we are even debating that, oh, it could be Israel who bombed the hospital who bombed the school. Even that fact that it can be legitimately debated whether, regardless of who did it, the fact that we are debating that it’s a plausible account. It’s a potentially plausible account. That’s what bothers me the most. You know, like, what happened when when people came together? They killed each other. They killed each other creatively. Right? What’s the shortest possible way that I can drop something and just mass obliterate? Right. And this is, so when I think that’s a, that’s a fundamental truth, and maybe that’s what art does. That’s the power of art that it tells us that what we do when we come together is we create. You know, and in my days where I can actually feel a bit lighter, I would have said, as I joke with my students that, you know, I think the the way we fight wars just reveals the paucity of human imaginations with technology. If we didn’t make guns in option, we could have a battle of the deadliest parts between two countries, you know, and like the smelliest country wins, or loses?

Marcel Stewart
Yeah, wins or loses? I don’t know.

Pratim Sengupta
Yeah, that’s the place I want, right? I mean, is this superpower? Or is this not?

Marcel Stewart
I’m just thinking about all the stinky farts that children just have like, you know, just hold babies up and just let them rip. See who can stand stand the longest? You know? That’s how we settle disputes. I like it. I like it, I do

Pratim Sengupta
A diaper change competition [laughter]

Let’s see, I’m laughing about this with these are legitimate contests that could decide the fate of humanity, right? We could have a hot dog eating contest, we could have a quinoa waiting contest, you know that we could do so many things creatively, without killing people, without harming people. And I think that’s where I see–I mean, art or no digital art, I mean, digital art, live digital art, whatever we want to call it, right? I mean, I actually loved Milton Lim’s work at FOLDA. And what struck me was the people, right? We, the entire auditorium, got engaged, even though the 100 people who were there, we’re not playing. One person was playing. And that one person became the 100. Right? And being cursed in love, right? Being cheered on being, like, disappointed at, like, all of that, that one person embodied the emotions, and it was sometimes it was too much. And then they say, Okay, I’m done. Like, please, someone else. Come join right. Now there is that right. But then when I looked at who was in the auditorium, it was a different feeling. It was a lot of white folks. Right? And then I was wondering that, and the only people of color there were the ones that could notice were Milton and me and maybe some others who are like us, right? And so what do we have? We have the racial stereotypes around technology playing out. We have the Asian people and the white people. Right? And then, and that was like okay, so live digital art can get us together. But then what about the fact that we are still part of this larger, messy world where race does implicitly shape how we got here? Right. And that, to me is a question. That, to me is a question of society, not technology. You know, and so questions about technology–and I call this techno centrism–So what the mind matter media lab does is that it fundamentally has become a collective for countering techno centrism. So techno centrism is the fallacy of trying to answer all questions about technology through centering the technology. Right. So the problem I saw with live digital art was the centering of digitization and not liveness. And where it broke free from the dogma of digital text was where I think it really became about our soul. And we are in the very early days. There was an AI workshop that I attended, right? It was fascinating. I think it was led by a young black student. And one of the leaders of folders who was in who’s not black, who is white, right. And what was fascinating to me was the tool that the tools that we use, I was able to, to make those tools do racist things even without trying. So I took a photo of me biking in Calgary, and I asked the AI tool we were using to take that photo and transform it to a biking experience in Nigeria. It took a photo of downtown Calgary, me biking in downtown Calgary, and littered it with poor surroundings and colored my skin deeply. And made my clothes a lot less wholesome. And basically impoverished the imagination and the representation of who I am and the surroundings. Assuming that I must be black, I must be poor, and Nigeria must be poor. The reality is that Lagos, Nigeria, is probably, you know, people don’t even know how busy!

Marcel Stewart
Thriving.

Pratim Sengupta
Yeah, and this is. So that also struck me right. But then, you know, there was also, you also see glimpses of humanity, it is both hope and despair. Everyone banded around and tried to defend what we were seeing, right. That it’s no one’s fault. And now what I know, through my research, that it is actually our fault. We have to take responsibility, we have to. We have to acknowledge that we can no longer be handed down these tools that are deeply racist. Even when they’re becoming more accessible, they’re becoming open source. The fact is that large language models are deeply racist, and they have been from day one. And that’s what’s powering these these tools, the AI creation tools, right. And so I think, if there’s a takeaway for me from FOLDA was that you know what? We need to set back, we need to push back on on the on the hegemony of a few techno companies in selling us tools, right? Artists make their own tools for ever. Every single artist I know and I work with not only make their own tools, they make everything in their house, including soap. Right? And that’s why we’re going to take it you know, as as we are given, right? Because we don’t deserve that. We don’t deserve to be treated with the remnants of a racist–the free remnants of a racist algorithm. We want to create the algorithm ourselves, right? So we need to. And if we can’t, if we don’t have the technology then we become activists. Then we break through, then we own these companies. We bring in collectives, we write large grants, and we actually say that you know, what the–we asked to the Government of Canada, give us 10s of millions of dollars so that we can create technology from the ground up so that we don’t have to experience these racist horrors right. And I think that’s where shit hits the fan for me. And FOLDA made it all real to me, that you know what, all this creativity, we might still be playing in the Palindrome of white imperialism and white domination. Right and where we are racially stereotyped,we are already pocketed. You know, and we think we have agency but maybe we have the illusion of agency.

Marcel Stewart
Makes me think of Ronaldo Walcott, scholar, Professor, I don’t quite remember what school he teaches at. But wrote a book called The Long Emancipation and what you’re saying speaks, just like, again resonates with me around the the fallacy of what emancipation is. Enslaved people were freed, but black people, people of color, marginalized folks in this country are not. There’s still barriers and restrictions and, and like, like, like we’re not emancipated.

Pratim Sengupta
Yeah. You know, like, I mean, the fact that, you know, the Canadian Academy is littered with almost all white leadership. Right. And even though if you look at the hiring policies that the Canadian universities have, is that we have to give proceedings to Canadian citizens. On paper, it’s great. But really, what is the hiring statistic racially? Right. And then we have to ask a fundamental question. Can a country with a colonial history, even say things like, yeah, “how dare How dare they, right? How dare they.”

But this is the power of art. This is art, you know, to me, this is our this conversation is art. The fact that we are creating this space, this is art. And live digital art, or dead digital art, alive art or dead, it doesn’t matter. As long as there is art, there will be humanity. And I think art is one of those–art and knowing– are those uniquely human gifts. You know, and I think the way with the way in which humans know, I think is intensely human. It’s more than human, but it is also intensely human. Right? I mean, my cat knows what my cat loves or hates, right? My cat, and she’s everything to me, and she loves us all the time. There’s not a moment in her life, that she doesn’t love us. You know, and I think about, you know, the, the universe when I’m when I’m witnessing physically that love. Right, that this–I’m so small, in comparison to what that little tiny six inch cat of mine does to me. You know, and that’s the greatness that we can find even in a small thing. And that’s also, and maybe that’s another thing that we do when we can come together. When we come together, we can find that place of love, right? And not, not perhaps, you know, unrequited love for Hitler. But, you know, this is love for in solidarity and really acknowledging the love that we see in others, and taking the time to do that.

Marcel Stewart
Okay, I’m mindful of time,

Pratim Sengupta
I’ve taken so much of the time

Marcel Stewart
No, this is great. This is art. This is exactly it, a spot for you to just share thoughts and feelings and opinions. And it’s gold. So much gold that like, I’ve crossed out questions like, we don’t got time for that, we don’t got time for that. But there’s one final question I’d like to ask you before we before we head out, and it’s a long winded one on my part, but I think, um, yeah, I’m excited to hear your thoughts on this. So okay, let me start with the playwright Jackie Sibblies Drury. Are you familiar with this playwright?

Pratim Sengupta
Uh, no.

Marcel Stewart
Jackie Sibblies Drury wrote a play–many plays, but wrote a play called We’re Proud To Present, that has a much longer name to it. And a play called Fairview that had a premiere in Toronto earlier this year. And then the company that I’m artistic director of the, b current

Pratim Sengupta
Yeah, Pulitzer Prize. Yes.

Marcel Stewart
So it’s about the white gaze, right? It’s like follows this black family. They’re preparing for dinner. They’re, you know, in it, there’s a moment when they start dancing. And, you know, the second act, we see the first act repeated, but the family doesn’t speak. And instead, we hear voices from perceived white audience members who are commenting on what they’re seeing, but also speaking about things like you know, “what race would you be if you could be a race,” and like kind of breaking that down? And then the third act there’s like this massive shift, which you know, is part of the reveal, so I won’t spoil it. What you were saying about being in the audience of asses.masses. There is a level of connection I was having because this play, I often wonder about the audience for that play. Because me, black body, I went to Vancouver to see it premiered. Vancouver is not a predominently black community. So like I’m sitting in the audience, and like, I’m laughing at the things that I’m seeing, and other like, white people are laughing. And I’m inherently, I’m just like, why are you laughing, person? Like, What’s the joke that, that you’re having? Yes. You know what I mean? I’m like, I’m having a moment of like–but like, you’re allowed to laugh, obviously. But I’m curious, what are you laughing at? And then there’s a moment, there’s like, what I perceive to be this gut punch moment, at the end, are the actors invite the audience to come up on stage, and so that we, the black, the black cast can come off, and we can gaze at you. And like, and some people didn’t get up. And it was, I find it like, I could talk about this play at length. But I am struck by your foreward in, in the book, Fostering Computational Thinking, yeah. So I have a quote. So you say, “In our context, under the omnipresent white gaze, bodies of Black, Indigenous and People of Color are positioned as a spectacle of performances by white and privileged researchers who in turn, are fixated on saving the disenfranchised.” And you go on, you drop mad bars in your foreward and it’s quite a fascinating read. I’m struck by, I look at your resume, I see all the things you’ve accomplished, all the things you’ve done. We talked about activism, the kind of like life affirming work that you’re involved in? How do you stay positive? How do you stay motivated? When do you rest? Like, on the human side of things? How do you recharge the battery, so that you can go back and continue to do the important, life affirming, decolonial work that you do? I think that’s really important. You know, for people on the come up, for people who are still doing it is like, yeah, you know, how do you recharge? How do you armor up? Like what like, what, talk about that for a sec?

Pratim Sengupta
Oh, took me a while to find the space, you know, and to create the space. And there’s only one answer to this for me, which is love. So that I think my partner in my real life is also one of my closest Academy collaborators. And the life we have together, me probably and our Cat, (inaudible). That is everything to me and the home that we have created. I am intensely in love with knowing. If you asked me in Grade Two, I would have told you I would become someone like this today. And I was very fortunate to grow up next door to a very accomplished scientist who just loved sharing what he knew in a way that would get me all excited. And he was, you know, he left a professorship at Berkeley to come be a scientist in India. And he would come home every day for lunch and pick me up in his lap. And while I would come back home from school, we would pitch coins in a bucket while he was while he was taking a shower in an outdoor well. And, you know, I had no idea he was this fancy scientist, but he was teaching me you know, like physics. Like, “Okay, put your coin. Why does the coin float?” Right. And sothere was a lot of love for knowing growing up. But it was all in these out of school spaces. School muted me and so I just had to find my escape out of school and I was intensely in love with physics. I had a great teacher in eighth grade who came in and talked about metaphors in physics, how they are theories and just that day was like a black hole for me. And so I have followed, so for the first part of my life, I followed my love of knowing. I finally got to a place where I met Pallavi and we started living together. We started life together. And I met her at a cusp where I was ready to drop out society and I was going to live in this collective intentional community in Virginia, Louisa, Virginia, in Twin Oaks. And I met her right when I was going to make that decision. And I had never experienced that kind of love in my life. And so I dropped that and just started my life with her. And then, you know, my best friend Dan, I met him in 2000. And we kind of grew together through the years. During that time, you know I was actually getting my PhD in physics and I did that for four years. And then I also took theater classes and I got so into the process of becoming an actor, that I stopped rehearsing and just realized that I’m actually really interested in being a scholar of knowing. And then I shifted to Learning Sciences. But that coincided with falling in love with Pahlavi and, you know, and then building a life together. And that brought me to some other people who became very close collaborators. I learned a lot with them. But I also learned to love them, you know. And so the community of people who have gathered around me, and I think their company is a gift to me. They are my friends. They are the people I hang out, with they are the people I think with, they’re the the people I write with. I love my PhD students. I absolutely you know, like nothing excites me more than doing all these things, right. And then it doesn’t feel like I’m taking on the world, then it just feels like I’m on a bike ride with folks I love, you know. And so that, yeah, I don’t think I can–there isn’t any other answer for me. I mean, I’m intensely in love with knowing. I’m your quintessential academic. You know, I always carry a newspaper just in case the conversation becomes boring. It’s always in my bag. And no offense, and I’ll declare that too. Like, you know what, you know, I’ll give you half an hour and after that, you know, if I’m sitting in a corner please don’t bother me.

Marcel Stewart
I love that. [laughter] I think that’s a fantastic way to end this is on love and also bring a newspaper around in case the conversation gets boring.

Thought Residencies: It’s a Sébaissance! | Sébastien Heins

Marcel Stewart is joined by Sebastien Heins to discuss the glorious ephemerality of theatre, his work with Outside the March, the process of developing immersive experiences, his solo play ‘No Save Points’, the future of performing arts, AI in theatre, Max Tegmark, theatre as an olympic event, our love for Mazin Elsadig, Michael Healey’s podcast ‘Just One More’ and MORE!

Marcel Stewart
Coming up a conversation with my dear friend Sébastien Heins. We talk about his play no savepoints the process of developing immersive theater, theater as an Olympic event, and our love for Mazin Elsadig. 2023 Is the Sebaissance!

Sébastien Heins
Last time I saw you, you were a gorgeous leader, a fearless leader giving your season opening speeches for b current. I was like: this guy’s got like political people in this room, he’s got artists in this room, he’s got supporters in this room, he’s got his board in this room. Like this is a groundswell. Yeah.

Marcel Stewart
That means a lot. As I hold my microphone… [laughter]. It was a big undertaking. I’m really glad that people that were there, man it felt like affirming for my career and my journey, because so many of y’all, like, were coming up with me. Like so many of y’all in the space or like, we’ve had conversations about what we wanted to do where we wanted to go and like, years later… it was great man.

Sébastien Heins
And like that space has been the epicenter of so much creation for so many people there, you know? It’s got a hand in so many people’s careers.

Marcel Stewart
No doubt. Yeah, no doubt. Okay, let’s, you know, let’s start. And we’ll just whatever, right? So, I’m going to introduce the episode on my own. But, to start us off, I’d love to just give you a moment to introduce yourself however you want right now.

Sébastien Heins
Hi, my name is Sébastien Heins. I have spent most of my career as an actor. I, out of necessity, start to gravitate towards writing and then producing, and more recently, I’ve gotten to try my hand at a bit more directing. So, I exist in sort of a Venn diagram of those four things. Right now, I’m very, very much an actor working on Topdog/Underdog on No Save Points, which is the project that I think we’re going to spend most of our time talking about. I was writer, co director, producing engine, and the performer. I like many hats!

Marcel Stewart
Mulit-hyphenated! Yes! Talk your shit! Talk your shit!

Sébastien Heins
We’re all slashes! We all gotta do it all.

Marcel Stewart
Do you think that is indicative of the times? Like do we have to be slashes in this time as artists?

Sébastien Heins
It’s a good question. Yeah, this is a thought residency… I gotta think! I think it is partially indicative of the times. I mean, I know that I came out of a tradition at National Theatre School, led by Sherry Bie, that emphasized self creation. So we had classes like vocal mask with Damian Atkins and Paul Dunn where we created 8 to 10 minute solo pieces where we played, you know, 20 different characters. And that got our muscles moving. We had solo show with Jodi Essary and Adam Lazarus to create a 15 minute show. You know, that was the epitome of pleasure for us on stage and that’s where Brotherhood came from. So I think that I got the training to say to me, your voice matters and it’s really fun to self create from like a, I guess, like economic longevity standpoint. I think that self creation has a really good chance of like continuing your love of the craft because when you self create you have to wear so many different hats and learn about sound design, set design, marketing, producing, working with venues, performing, audience outreach. You just have to learn all these different pieces of the puzzle and I think it gives you a deeper appreciation actually for like the whole theater juggernaut.

Marcel Stewart
Yeah, yeah, I couldn’t agree more. Yeah, yeah, yeah. [Marcel and Sébastien laugh]. I mean, that’s sometimes it! That’s all we need, you know? Okay. I got a big question for you. I’m curious, and this doesn’t have to apply to theater this is just kind of however the question lands. What are you thinking about these days?

Sébastien Heins
I’m thinking about a lot of things. Thinking about climate change, climate crisis. Thinking about population. Thinking about, why is it so hot in Toronto right now? Compartmentalize that. With Topdog/Underdog I’m thinking about how much time it takes to get really good at a show. How much time it takes to like metabolize material and do it justice. With No Save Points and the stuff that, you know, I get to build with Outside the March, I’m thinking about the glorious ephemerality of theater and the crushing forgetability of it.

Marcel Stewart
Yo, here today, gone tomorrow!

Sébastien Heins
Man, it’s like, if you’re not pushing it up the hill, it’s sinking down the hill. It’s just kind of coming back towards you. So yeah, you know, we had a really, really, really like, life affirming run of the show at Lighthouse Immersive earlier in the summer, and we have some really exciting sort of avenues and options or you know, conversations and things about where the show is gonna go next. But yeah, I’m just like reminded every time I kind of close the show how much it takes to keep pushing a show up the hill. And, I think like, judging whether it’s worth it. And if it’s worth it, you do it. You just do it. You know, you do it because it’s worth it. But I think that it’s good to have that internal conversation about whether or not it’s worth it. And that’s kind of something.

Marcel Stewart
Does that convo happen for you before you agree to do something? Does it happen as you’re doing the thing? Have you ever left or decided it’s not worth it mid-process?

Sébastien Heins
I don’t think I’ve ever really left a process especially after I’ve sort of gone all in on it and said like, “this is happening.” Yeah, I’ve usually been kind of in it doing it. But on No Save Points in particular, such a long process of creating the show. First inklings I got about the idea of playable theater, I was at Soulpepper in beginning of 2019 and I spent a lot of time by myself in a room because like, rehearsal hall, because like my character entered, like after everybody else was going through deaths so I had like a couple of scenes that just, you know, it’s like you’re like, “wow, okay. I guess everybody else is having fun onstage, I’ll just, you know, amuse myself!” So, I spent a bunch of time by myself and I started to play around in my imagination with this idea: what if there was like a room lined with audience members, and I was a solo performer, and they could pick items that would fall from the ceiling? And I would have to then interact with those items, like a video game character does? That was the first time I started playing with the idea. So yeah, like as a project, it’s had a long gestation period, in develop with Mitchell and with the Outside The March crew. I remember relatively early on going, “are you prepared to spend years on this? Because like, right now you’re writing this grant application, and it’s like pulling teeth. And, you know, it sucks. And I don’t want to write this right now. And oh God, is it worth it? Is it really worth it?” Because this is going to be by far, probably the easiest thing that you’re gonna have to overcome along this journey. I really remember going, “I guess this is the thing. This is the thing that keeps me up at night. This is the thing I care about most, creatively, in the whole world. And even if it takes years to see it through, I see myself continuing to be challenged by it.” I have so many questions about how the hell we’re going to make this thing work. How can we make a live video game onstage with a solo actor? How are we going to do that? I just had so much fuel. I think one thing that really kind of cracked things open was realizing how much outside help I was going to need in order to answer that question. And that was going to be its own adventure. Like, I got to talk to people who work at Ubisoft, I got to talk to people who run their own independent game studios, I got to talk to people who, you know, work in Interactive Arts, I got to, you know, work with game developers and, motion capture specialists and animators. I literally went on an adventure and met a whole cast of characters, just to answer that challenging technological question at the heart of the show. And I’m so, so thankful that I got to take that journey.

Marcel Stewart
What other questions came up for you during the process?

Sébastien Heins
A question that kept on coming up throughout the entire writing and creation and development process was: how personal does this show have to be in order to be truthful and deliver the experience that I’m trying to create for people? The very, very, very first iteration of this show, which was in 2019 it was like a 15 minute presentation that I did for Mitchell and people at Outside The March, there was no mention of Huntington’s disease, or my mom or anything like that. It was really all about this person trapped in a prison cell and they had 24 hours to live, and you as the audience got to choose what they did for those 24 hours. And at the end of those 24 hours, they were executed and that that was it. And incrementally, through working with Rosamund and Griffin and Jeff Ho and Mitchell, it just became more and more apparent that there was this deeper, personal story that was fueling the metaphor, and that deeper personal story could have a lot of resonance with a lot of people. So my question was constantly like, how the hell do I do this without boring people with my life? I just really didn’t want to be like, “hey, guys, here’s Sebastian story!” And there’s nothing wrong with that! It was just a fear because I just didn’t want to be that guy. I wanted people to laugh, and I wanted people to feel like they’re taken on a fantastical ride, and that they’d be delighted and entertained and excited and feel catharsis and all those things. But I was really nervous about using my real story. It just felt like what ended up happening was through thinking about it all the time. Like, through trying to answer that question, we realized that all the fantastical stuff in the show, those four games that are, you know, one is on the surface of the moon, and one is in medieval times, and one is in a superhero world, and one is on this, sort of colonial island. Like, in order for the fantasy of those games, to hit home with the audience, there needed to be this bedrock of reality. And it was only through the juxtaposition of those things that both of those things could actually hit their mark. Like, it was kind of one half direct address talking to the audience telling them about what’s happening in my family. And one half, “No! I’m playing a little monster!” You know? And I think that juxtaposition actually brought out the most in the fantasy and brought out the most in the in the reality.

Marcel Stewart
You, mentioned the company Outside the March. Can you talk a little bit about your work with them? Maybe like the work that they do? And on a bigger level, what are some of the questions that you all ask, as you’re deciding what to work on or as you’re embarking on a process?

Sébastien Heins
So, just a bit of context: I met Mitchell, doing Waiting for Godot in university. I was in first year university, he was in fourth year, at university of King’s College in Halifax. He directed me. At like 18 I played Vladimir, just a weird weird age to do it and figure it out, but nonetheless, whatever floats your boat.

Marcel Stewart
That’s right! That’s right!

Sébastien Heins
I just really kind of solidified creative curiosity, I think, between between each other. I met Ishai there too, Simon Bloom, and then Mitchell went to the U of A to study directing, and then I went to National Theatre School, and Mitchell met a bunch of amazing people in Alberta like Amy Keating and Katherine Cullen. And then when he graduated, or actually, before he graduated, we started making shows in Toronto under the name Outside the March under him and Simon Blooms artistic directorship. So, there’s just this host of us from sort of the Kings community and the U of A community who are the founding members, and over the years I helped, you know, build the company, whether that was making the trailers for our shows or helping with marketing and outreach, performing in the shows, Mr. Marmalade and Mr. Burns, all sorts of productions. Vitals was in my parents house, and Roncesvalles. Anyway, years later, I went to Stratford for a while and sort of had to duck out of OTM stuff for a couple of years and then it was sort of like the pandemic hit a bit after that and we started working on Mundane Mysteries, which was our telephonic experience. And through working on Mundane Mysteries every day with Mitchell and crew, it just became apparent to me what a family, what a creative hub OTM is for me and yeah, that’s when Mitchell asked me to take on the Associate Artistic Director position. Yeah, so that’s been my journey from actor to actor, creator, and producer.

Marcel Stewart
And do you think about, like in the future is artistic leadership, artistic directorship, something that you’d like to add to the hyphenate?

Sébastien Heins
I don’t know. I really don’t know. That is not something that I think about. I think about how to make sure that the actor, who is the reason that I’m in the theatre industry, that the actor is energized. You know? And I’m sure that maybe there would come a day when I wouldn’t want to act as much, I don’t know, I have no idea. But I do keep on going back to that performer role. And, yeah, I think it takes a lot of work to be an artististic director, as you know! I don’t know if I would be able to swing both, but who knows. And you had asked about OTM and about our creative decisions, and I did want to just address it. We started as a site specific company, and that sort of evolved into an immersive company. And then over the years, it’s been like 12 years, and that name, immersive, has changed a lot, became a real sort of buzzword, and now it’d be immersive marketing, and like immersive pizza, you know, it’s like, it’s sort of everything is immersive now. We’ve had to continually kind of reinvent what it means to be immersive. And I think for us, it’s always having a deep, deep intentionality about the who, what, when, where, why of a theatrical event. Specifically the where. Like really, really thinking about the where. And something that Mitchell and Rosamund and everybody on the team is really, really good at, and this has been in our DNA since the beginning, is we basically never start with a venue and then find a narrative for it. We start with a narrative, and then try to find the venue that’s going to give the most poetic layers to the narrative and provide the most sort of layered experience for the audience. Case in point, one of our very first shows, Mr. Marmalade: show about a four year old girl and her imaginary friend, Mr. Marmalade, who’s an awful, cruel human or imaginary character. We set it in a kindergarten classroom that we rented from the Catholic School Board. The show hadn’t been done immersively ever before, and it felt like by getting the audience to sit on little kid chairs and drinking juice boxes and getting their tickets from a lemonade stand, and having an ice cream truck pull up at the end of the show, we thought these layers do actually add something to the narrative. And they can help delight and bring the darkness and the light in the show into beautiful stark contrast. Since then, doing a show all about love in the future in a funeral parlor, doing Mundane Mysteries over the phone during the pandemic, somehow liveness, catharsis can still exist over a telephone. Having the set for No Save Points be a gigantic 15 foot tall Gameboy with big buttons that you can jump on. I think that we regularly get really excited by the intentionality of the design of the show. Speaking as AAD I’d call that a bit of the secret sauce.

Marcel Stewart
That’s a great answer. Great answer. Also I know you’re in Toronto because you’re working on Topdog but looking behind you I’d say you are overlooking, like some kind of gorge or Cliff somewhere? What is that backdrop behind you?

Sébastien Heins
What are you talking about? I’m in a condo. I’m in a Toronto condo! Those are the clouds. See all these plants? I found literally all of these in our garbage room. They’re all plants. I found them in our garbage room. People just throw out plants. Like full plants! Like this is a palm that I found. This is a serviceberry tree. These are gorgeous plants.

Marcel Stewart
Did you have to resuscitate them at all? Or like were they alive?

Sébastien Heins
Oh yeah they were on last legs. I was like, “we can do this baby!”

Marcel Stewart
You go! You go!

Sébastien Heins
I love it. Honestly, my favorite thing is getting plants that are on their way out and figuring out how to make them live. It makes me really happy. There’s a vine in the corner there. I think it’s called a lipstick vine. It was like covered in aphids. It was dead. The palm had scales on it. The serviceberry tree gets powdery mildew all the time. They’re my children. So nerdy! You’re just like, “where are you right now?” Like, powdery mildew.

Marcel Stewart
No, it’s great. I just realized this is an audio experience. And so people are not going to be able to see the beauty of what you just showed me. Might have to cut this in post. But no, thank you for sharing. I’m curious if you have any thoughts on the state of theater right now? There’s like, mad think pieces and blog posts and tweets or X’s, whatever they’re called right now, and a company like yourselves like Outside the March, that position themselves kind of at like the forefront of innovative immersive work… any thoughts that you have about where we’re at, in the theatrical ecology? Good? Bad? Or yeah, just anything?

Sébastien Heins
Well, I have to admit that a couple of months after the murder of George Floyd, I had an insatiable appetite for social media. I think like many, many, many, many, many people were, like, extremely helpless and daily fried. And upset and angry. Like deeply angry. And kind of inconsolable in a lot of ways. I can just step away from the socials. I keep profiles on them, but I don’t come back. So I’ve unfortunately missed most of the dialogue and that is both to my detriment and my benefit. I maintain that I wouldn’t have written No Save Points if I had been on social media. I just wouldn’t have. I had so many doubts going into the writing of that show about whether or not I have a voice; should be sharing my voice? Should be sharing my story? Should be even making any theatre at all? I felt extremely doubtful about my place in the theatre ecology and it was only after leaving that conversation that I started to go, “Oh, no, I have something to say. I’d like to make some effort to make something.” I don’t have probably some of the same references that you do, but from being on the front lines of making stuff, seeing audiences come in, talking to them, being part of the theatrical activity. I know that on No Save Points, we knew that that potential hook was going to be people who get excited by the style of gaming and gaming in general, and that those people might not regularly find themselves at the theater. And one of our mandates as a company is to make theater for people who don’t normally find themselves at the theater. And so we ran a ton of Instagram ads, and we had subway ads. I would do these talkbacks after the show and meet tons of people who said they either saw the ads on Instagram, or saw them on the TTC and that this was like their first theater show they’d ever seen. Or, they just like took a chance on it because it seemed cool. And they were they felt really rewarded, that they that they came. And then they brought all of their friends to see it, you know? And came back multiple times. And these are young people of color. These are like young, tech savvy, young people. I remember this Somali girl, and I was like, “how did you find out about the show?” And she was like, “I just I just saw the ad and I was like, that looks like a neat thing!” And I was like, oh, yeah, people do that in cities. They get curious. You don’t have to know them. They don’t have to be coming because they’re your friend. Like people are just looking for cool, good stuff. I think that there’s something to the feat. I don’t have a foot fetish, no. There’s something to the feat. The F E A T. The F EA T!

Marcel Stewart
No shame here, man. No shame here. No slander, no shame.

Sébastien Heins
It’s all love. Literally. But yeah, there’s something to the feat, the F E A T. And I got to see Amanda Cordner in it Snow White and Seven Dwarfs. Did you see that show?

Marcel Stewart
I did see that show.

Sébastien Heins
With Ken Hall, and them playing like all the dwarves. A million characters. And then after the show, they did a talkback with this auditorium full of children and this kid is like, “I have a question!” And Amanda is like, “what’s your question kid?” And the kids like, “Why did you play so many different characters?” And Amanda was like, “Well, you know, because I think that theater should be an Olympic event.” And the kid was like, “Huh!” And she’s like, next question. I was like, yes! Yeah, I do actually think it should be an Olympic event. And that can mean a bunch of different things, whether that’s linguistically or whether that is physically or whether that’s emotionally or, you know, whether that is, in terms of the subject matter. “Oh, my God, I can’t believe that we’re straddling the line talking about this really difficult subject. This is an Olympic event right now.” I think theater is most exciting and most palpable when it feels like the possibility of risk and failure is constantly staring you in the face! And I think that that’s attractive to people. I think that they get excited sitting in an auditorium experiencing that. And I think that at OTM there’s always this kind of conversation that starts to happen where we start to create challenges for ourselves. Like we start to impose these obstacles that we think fit, you know, within the creation process? That we think fit in the project. Things that are going to make our lives really, really, really friggin difficult, but that create a sense of feat. On Mr. Burns, a Post-Electric Play, we attempted to do the whole show without electricity from the grid. So like, one design element from the first act of the show was that instead of having cricket sound effects, we literally had boxes of crickets throughout the audience. On vitals, we wanted an ambulance to show up at the end of the show and we had to figure out how to safely hide an ambulance in the back laneway, so that it wouldn’t obstruct traffic, and so that we could bring it in for the finale of the show. It’s like a three minute moment. But it was the final bang. So much logistics went into that, but it was it was worth it. It was a feat. And I think people were delighted by that. You know, Mundane Mysteries, same thing. How to tell this personalized story about you and your mundane mystery over the course of six telephone calls with a bunch of different actors who all are sharing information and writing this mystery just about you and your life during the pandemic. All of this stuff, it feels like a feat. And I think out of feats come magic and miracles. And I think that’s what a lot of people are looking for when they go to the theater. So I guess this is a big roundabout way of saying: I don’t know what the state of theater is. I don’t know how we’re going to make any of these models work. However, I still think that there is a beating heart to it, that is attractive to people. And so, as long as they want to come and as long as we want to tell our stories, we should keep doing it as long as we want to. I know, it’s so much more complicated than that.

Marcel Stewart
But I’m not speaking to any of those people that have complicated, whatever answers. I’m speaking to you! And your answer is the answer. And you’ve given me like so many things to think about and respond to. But I think my first thing is, I’m going to put on my MCU, comic book, nerdom hat on and ask you… This guy! He’s ready! He’s ready to go! So if you were the sorcerer supreme, and you’re walking around with the time stone just dangling around your neck, and you have the ability to jump in time 50, 100, 200 years. What would you want theater to look like? What would you want from theater?

Sébastien Heins
Oh Boy.

Marcel Stewart
I know. Doing it!

Sébastien Heins
What I want from theater? I mean, is it weird that my first thought was, I would hope, that the AI and the robots would have their own theatrical traditions by then?

Marcel Stewart
Okay.

Sébastien Heins
Is that weird?

Marcel Stewart
It’s not weird at all. Can you expand?

Sébastien Heins
Yeah, like if they are to become such a big part of our society and potentially gain some sort of sentience due to like, the quantum leaps in computing that are happening. I assume, rightly or wrongly, that they’ll become some part of the population and that they will interact with one another and that they’ll either integrate into our society or will be draconian, awful, humans and stick them in their own little cages. Or maybe they put us into cages. I don’t know about that. I don’t know what’s gonna happen. But, I think that there will be a relationship between what is sort of a-human and what is human. And I would be interested to know if that a-human, non human, population carries on the tradition of performing for each other. Yeah. There has been actually quite a bit of AI theater made at this point. Text generators, from GBT-2 to ChatGPT just like cranking out plays. To people many years ago sticking two computers onstage and having them talk to each other, with no humans involved. It’s not like the machines instigated those experiences, but I don’t think that we’re super far away from them creating your own theatrical traditions. I saw a robot doing improv with a guy. I was like, “this robots got jokes! Funnier than me!” I think that would be interesting. And how interesting would it be as a human to see that and experience that? So, yeah. 200 years from now that’d be interesting to see what what they’re making.

Marcel Stewart
You come across the, I think it’s like, the 24 hour a day Seinfeld loop? That’s an AI?

Sébastien Heins
Oh! Yeah, yeah. Yeah. Yeah. It got super racist, didn’t it?

Marcel Stewart
Yeah, they shut it down.

Sébastien Heins
Yeah, right. Yeah. Right. Yeah. Yeah. It went on like an anti-trans diatribe or something.

Marcel Stewart
Yeah. Which, you know, just has me thinking of what you’re saying about traditions and like, the limitless possibilities of what can happen if we give AI the chance or the opportunity to continue evolving as it does. There’s a fascinating, kind of harrowing, book Life 3.0 by Max Tegmark. He’s like a engineer… smart person… who essentially… [Sébastien and Marcel laugh]. Yeah, I know. I got no words to describe this like really intelligent guy. I’m gonna have to edit that out.

Sébastien Heins
Got a PhD in smart. [Sébastien and Marcel laugh again].

Marcel Stewart
Oh god, why am I hosting.

Sébastien Heins
No, you’re killing it. You’re killing it.

Marcel Stewart
Thanks, brother. Thank you.

Sébastien Heins
You read a book, bro!

Marcel Stewart
Yeah, I read a book likefive years ago. It’s an old book! Came out like 2015-2016? I haven’t read recently! Who has time to read!

Sébastien Heins
Like the one book you talk about for five years.

Marcel Stewart
It really is.

Sébastien Heins
Very smart, man. [Sébastien and Marcel laugh].

Marcel Stewart
He’s probably written three books since then, you know? Like, I’m still so behind.

Sébastien Heins
I’m the same man. I am just on audiobooks. I look at a page and I start falling asleep. I’m embarrassed.

Marcel Stewart
No! I just read recently, Spotify is jumping into the audio book domain to try and take away from the monopoly that Amazon has. And it was talking about like, books and potentially magazines and comics. I’m like, the audio play? The audio drama? Can that reach mass appeal? Or is it still just a niche? I mean, PlayME still makes content.

Sébastien Heins
That is friggin amazing. I love what they’ve done. I think they’re amazing. Like I grew up listening to audio dramas on CBC. And then CBC got gutted, and those completely disappeared. And it was like, “are we never going to have those again?” And then PlayME came in, and they’re like, “I got you.” It just totally brought it back. Anyway, sorry, you were saying?

Marcel Stewart
I was on a flight recently and in preparation for the flight, I downloaded, like six fictional podcasts in the hopes of inspiring my creativity. And, they’re all somewhat in the science fiction realm, which, I like, but felt very similar. I felt like, I know, people that could write better than this. I know actors who could act better than this. I don’t really have a question. I hope if I’m going to prognosticate, if that’s even a word, I’m going to think about what’s going on.

Sébastien Heins
It is now.

Marcel Stewart
That’s right. That’s what I thought! I’d like to see more theatre writers, more playwrights, creating, I’m going to use the word ‘content’ in a nice way, just like reaching more people. Going back to what you were saying about this love and passion for what we do as theatre makers, and also kind of grappling with or accepting the finality of it. It happens and then it’s gone. And if you’ve had the chance to see it, you’ve had the chance to see it, but if you’re not a part of that moment, then you don’t get to witness the moment. My insides are like, “Ugh!” I think that’s like the death knell of theater. Now, there’s such an access, there’s such a availability of things to see and people’s schedules and lives are so hectic. If you’re not able to find time to get to the theater to see the show, you’re shit out of luck. I think there was a time when that was really exciting and it made it exclusive. But now I’m like, “Ah, are we missing out on audiences by pigeon-holing, making up another new word, ourselves into a particular moment?” I don’t know. Is any of that resonating?

Sébastien Heins
Yeah! Oh, dude, it so resonates. I really, I have been thinking about this a lot since like, I think like 2015-2016, when 360 video and sort of VR was really trying to make its last big push. I got really excited about 360 video, because I thought that it could maybe capture the depth and the feeling of presence in a theater show for audiences. So you could put on your headset, and you could watch a theater show as it was kind of meant to be seen and experienced. God, but like, it’d be so much easier to do this theater thing, if it just wasn’t theater. Like it would be so much easier to do it if it was like recorded and we could get a bunch of great camera angles on it and re-record the audio and have like these interesting tech elements so that people can like share and post it around and move it around a place online. Like it would just be part of the digital conversation. Especially at OTM we keep on coming back to, this really happened during the pandemic, was: it’s always the liveness. It’s always the liveness that’s the thing. The liveness is the reason to do it. Because the liveness brings with it all of these extremely tricky obstacles to get around. How the hell do you do something live continuously? It starts. Everybody comes out. They do their thing. “Oh my god, I can’t believe it’s still happening! Oh my god, it’s so hot! They’re still on stage! And he just came in and oh my god, there’s an elephant up there? Oh my god and it’s over. Wow!” Right? And they did it live. From a caveman like, ‘ugh, ugh,’ perspective, I think that’s just the thing about it that’s so exciting. Every time I try to sort of figure out how to make theater that fits within the way that people consume media now, it just feels like the live thing has to go. That doesn’t mean that there aren’t ways. People are constantly figuring out how to use live streaming methods in order to make theater exciting and interesting, or have the theater sort of exist within social media or within the comment sections. There’s so much to do, and it’s really, really exciting. And all the generations are figuring out how to do it. And there is no one way to do theater. But I do think that the liveness is both the emancipator and the shackles in this world that we worked in. I think that there’s something to soundtracks. One of my favorite success stories, I guess, it’s kind of, basic or sort of mainstream at this point today, but just the fact that Hamilton came out as a soundtrack that everybody could listen, to learn the words of, fall in love with before they could ever see it. I just think that that’s one of the coolest success stories. It’s made such an impact on so many people. And I sometimes wonder, okay, like, what is the theater version of that? Where you have a drama and somehow you want to get people excited about being in the drama. Sometimes I wonder whether we should be filming scenes from the shows that we do? You know what I mean? I feel like most of the time, we do sort of a supercut of a bunch of little things throughout the show, and then sort of give that to audiences to get them excited, but I think it’d be so cool to maybe focus on a 30 second scene.

Marcel Stewart
That’s good, that’s good, that’s good. Who inspires you creatively or artistically?

Sébastien Heins
You! You! You!

Marcel Stewart
Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!

Sébastien Heins
You are a very inspiring individual. You got the languag. You got the language your. Your way with words. It’s gorgeous,

Marcel Stewart
Oh man. Appreciate you. Thank you.

Sébastien Heins
And you never give up. I remember when we did that b current… [Marcel and Sébastien laugh]. We started with what? Two kids? Two kids in that program?

Marcel Stewart
Two.

Sébastien Heins
And then one of them left, like, halfway through. He just like, never came back. And I saw him! I saw him in the streets! And I was like, “What are you doing?” But he’s like, “I got into a short film.” Like, I understand, but fuck you man!

Marcel Stewart
Hey could just let us know though?. You can’t just like, hit us up? Let us know? Waiting for you man!

Sébastien Heins
Yeah, that was wild. But you were always so like, “we’re still gonna do this. And we’re gonna make it happen and it’s gonna be enriching and we’re gonna put all of our energy into her. Now that we just have one participant.” So yeah, you’re a wonderful person.

Marcel Stewart
Thanks. She’s killing it now by the way, she’s killing it.

Sébastien Heins
Is she?

Marcel Stewart
Yeah, she’s like, creating her own work and taking it across the country. She’s slaying it right now.

Sébastien Heins
Wow!

Marcel Stewart
Yeah! Yeah.

Sébastien Heins
Okay. Yeah. Whose fault is that? We could take responsibility… no I’m kidding. Yeah, who inspires me? Just on a really practical level l find Mitchell really inspirational. As they say in Hamilton, the man is non stop. He’s just relentless. Loves it so much. Loves it. Without him, No Save Points wouldn’t exist. He’s just such an incredible artists. So curious all the time and just always ask the hard questions and is excited by creation. So I am really inspired by Mitchell. Mitchell Cushman. I’m inspired by, I have to say this, I’m inspired by my mom. She has been handling a very challenging situation for a long time and still makes me laugh, and is still inquisitive and curious and herself. She’s herself, in spite of what she’s going through, and I just adore her for that. And even if it was, you know, quote, unquote, “affecting’ her more, or getting her down more, any of these different things, I would still be really proud of her. I just think that she’s, yeah, she’s quite an inspiration. I’m inspired by my amazing wife, Dasha. I feel like she eats shit all day at work, she just like, constantly has to manage personalities, and she works unbelievably hard and still somehow comes out on top at the end of the day. Round the clock, and is so well liked and admired by the people she works with for very good reasons and she continues to be an advocate for athletes in a major way. She’s been working with the new Women’s Professional Hockey League getting their players association off the ground, as well as working with the national men’s soccer team and continuing work with amateur athletes. From early on in our relationship, we realized that her life as an amateur athlete and my life as a performer and a theatre artist, have some real similarities and I continue to be amazed at her fight to advocate for the plights of athletes. And she sees more theater than most theatremakers I know! She loves the arts. She loves theatre. She’s bringing tons of people to Topdog. I’m just really inspired by how she always has room for care and love, and she inspires me. Creatively, I watched Brother the other day? Have you seen Brother? Clement Virgo? And Mazin’s in it.

Marcel Stewart
Of course he is.

Sébastien Heins
And he’s so scary. And I watched it and his character was like, aggressing the main characters. And I’m like, “in Topdog, this is the shit I have to deal with every day! This is the shit I deal with all day!” This guy aggressing me onstage. I was really inspired by Brother. I think it’s a really good movie. And Mazin is great in it. The main actors in it are really good too. Aaron Pierre just came onto my radar and I think he’s really, really good. He’s a great actor.

Marcel Stewart
True story about Mazin, that he may have shared with you, and this may make the episode or not, who knows? Brother Size, that I was fortunate and privileged to be in pre pandemic.

Sébastien Heins
And kill! You were so good.

Marcel Stewart
Oh, bless bro. Thanks. Man! The Marcel flowers residency, you know? But yeah, we lost one of our brothers who became ill and needed to prioritize his health during the process. And that happened, like, a day before tech week. So we began a search to try and find someone to come. We auditioned people and it just wasn’t a fit. I don’t know how Weyni connected with Mazin, it might have been Virgilia Griffith I think, but when he came into rehearsal, I remember it was like, “okay, so we found someone and he’s coming from California.” And we’re like, “Oh?” and she was like, “Yeah, so we’re gonna schedule an extra rehearsal. And he’ll probably be on book but you’re great. And like, just welcome him into the fold.” He got there on a Sunday, like he got there Sunday morning, script in hand. We did a read. We like, tried to start blocking. Dog, by Monday, he was off book. By Monday! And He. Was. The. Lead. Of the show! It’s an ensemble piece, yes, but he had at least 60% of that text. Off book, bro! And so like, from, you know, Monday until we opened the show on Thursday, and we had audiences come in Wednesday and Thursday, by the time we opened the show, we’re just you know, blocking, tweaking, adjusting. And he was so like, “Yo, if I’m off, like, move me to where I need be. Can we run lines on break? So he elevated my game. He elevated Aaron’s game. And kind of just brought us together in a way that I didn’t think was possible because the three of us before Mazin arrived were already so close from the work that we did in rehearsal ,but it required a whole nother level of work. And also the idea of letting go: going back to this idea of liveness, going back to like what we’re talking about, about the finality of things. Also being comfortable with letting go, you know, like, we’ve built the show up over three weeks of rehearsal with Tommy in the space, and I was like, “this show is going to be fucking fire!” And then like, you have to move on? And no shade to Mazin, but I was like, “What is this guy gonna do?” He’s gonna come in like, “how are we gonna make it work?” And Mazin was like, “Yo, I’ll show you what I can do.” And I couldn’t have seen that, you know? I’ve always been like, “Yo, anyone needs an actor? It’s Mazin Elsadig, without a doubt.”

Sébastien Heins
He’s very special. He’s the man on Topdog. He’s been my inspiration on Topdog throughout. He’s like, such a beautiful scene partner to spend time with, create chemistry with. Yeah, I absolutely adore working with him and I think he’s the truth. I had heard those stories. He had told me about having nine days to learn that whole show and he was like, “that’s how much time I had and I just, like, had to do it!” He was like, “I didn’t know how I was gonna do it, but I knew I had to do it.” I think that’s how he approaches a lot of things. He just kind of throws himself in. He really prioritizes authenticity and truthfulness, and like, “could I see myself doing this in real life?” The amount of depth you can find while also learning so much so quickly is amazing. Yeah. I’ve learned a lot from him on this process. A ton. Yeah. Mazin, baby!

Marcel Stewart
Yeah! Yeah! Couple more as we round out our time here. A couple more. I was listening to Michael Haley’s podcasts, and he had Evan Buliung on there. And they’re talking about Evan Buliung’s experience working on Lord of the Rings and it was quite an effective listen, if you don’t know that story or anything about the show.

Sébastien Heins
I saw that. I never heard.

Marcel Stewart
Oh, whew, take that in. It’s a good listen. As someone who also saw it, and was like, “wow! This is quite the spectacle!” To learn, like, so much shit was going on behind the scenes… yeah. But Evan said something, “every experience changes us.” Which, yes. And so, I was thinking like, my question to you would be: how has No Save Points, creating and/or performing, changed you artistically on the human level?

Sébastien Heins
Well, I think it’s a lot of things. And some things I will probably not understand for many years, actually. We’ll have to do this again, in like 10 years.

Marcel Stewart
Thought Residencies 3.0!

Sébastien Heins
Now featuring AI.

Marcel Stewart
We’ll meet in the future.

Sébastien Heins
They’ll talk. Yeah, they’ll talk. Yeah, I’ll be super honest and say that when I got to create Brotherhood with the team that I got to work on it with, that show is and became such a sort of showcase for what I love in theater. It became this, real place for my identity. A show that I wrote, and that is a solo piece, music and lyrics that I’d created with, Mickey and a really great team. I think that I was really nervous after having performed it a number of times and feeling people really liked it, and I was nervous. Will I ever make another solo show and not repeat myself? How am I going to evolve in this art form? I’m really floored by the process that we went through to make No Save Points because it required me to not just bring everything that I learned about vocal mask and solo storytelling, from Brotherhood, but I had to learn all these new skill sets. I had to learn about all these other roles on the project, I had to become a video game level designer. I drew out the sidescrolling levels for the third game and worked with Damien Atkins on hopeful monsters’ choice trees, and worked with Alex Lyons, this amazing Illustrator, to come up with the visual world of the superhero characters. There’s so much creativity that went into the show that stretched me beyond the artists I thought that I was. Brotherhood is and was an extraordinary feat for you as like a young, emerging artist-creator, and it’s so wonderful that I got to perform it so many times in so many places, and that people really enjoyed it and sort of continue to be excited by it. I continue to have things to say, artistically. I continue to have creative challenges that are exciting for an audience to watch. I think that in the worst of times, that fear that you have pigeon holed yourself can be really kind of debilitating. And you kind of go, “oh God, I have to top that somehow.” The act of building No Save Points wasn’t the act of topping it. It was the act of relentlessly following my other curiosities and getting inspired by our incredible team. To go in that direction, “oh, my God, how do you make a live video game on stage? How do you do it? What do we attach to my body in order to make that happen? What are the visuals for the side scrolling game?What are the colors that signify each of the different games?” I just found that following curiosity ended up answering the question whether I’ll ever make something exciting ever again. I did. We did. Because we were following our excitement. Because I followed my excitement with a lot of really exciting people, I got to make something that I’m very, very, very, very, very proud of. Does that make sense? Kind of a long winded answer.

Marcel Stewart
No, no, again, great answer. It makes sense. I think it’s the thing that university classes will share with their students, right? Follow the excitement. Follow the excitement. On that note, what matters to you most as an artist?

Sébastien Heins
Tawiah, who directed TopDog/Underdog, shared this with me and I said, “Oh, yeah, that’s sort of my mandate when I go into a process.” I think that a lot of people share this: that the people involved in the show are proud of their work at the end of it. That feels like a really good barometer. If you do a show and lots of people comment it’s really successful, but you kind of hate your life and hate yourself and hate it, something’s I think gone wrong. But if you do something and the sound designers like, “Yeah, I did something that I’d never done before on this one.” Or the costume designers like, “Oh, I really, really love this thing that I did. I think it really supports the piece beautifully.” And the actors are excited to be there every day, and everybody’s proud of the work, that’s the thing, I think. Because I really do think that translates to the audience experience. I do.

Marcel Stewart
Totally.

Sébastien Heins
Yeah. Because, kind of going back to that idea of the feat, if you’ve accomplished a feat on stage live in front of an audience, you’ve slain some sort of dragon or conquered some kind of difficult obstacle and challenge and that is palpable to the audience. They can feel that something really difficult has been achieved or climbed and they get invested in it too. And I think often when we slay a dragon we’re proud of having gone through the suffering and the uncertainty that is the creative process.

Marcel Stewart
No one’s gonna come. [Sébastien and Marcel laugh]. It had suffering. “This is the worst idea ever. Why did I do this? No one’s gonna come. I’m so stupid!” Yeah, no, no. What’s next for you?

Sébastien Heins
So we’ve been extended to October 22, which is very cool. So I think by the end we will have gotten maybe between 25 and 30 shows, including previews. Which was really fun, especially for a show like this. I have a week off, and then I start Sweeter by Alicia Richardson, which is a great, great. TYA play that I got to perform over Zoom with some amazing actors during the pandemic for some young people and like, fell in love the script. It’s so good. Alicia is such a good writer. Really, really talented. So Tanisha is going to be directing that and Amaka is going to be co directing or assistant directing which is really cool. I think Daren Herbert’s gonna be in it, Emerjade Simms. Some really, really, really, really great people. So I’m looking forward to that and that’ll take me to the end of December. I get to play a villain in that. This sort of plantation owner type character who’s also mixed race. It’s like, just after the Emancipation Proclamation in the States and there’s this family who used to work the land who now want to purchase land, and they’re finding that they aren’t able to do so because of, you know, the way that the States is so impossible in that period for people of color. So my character is interesting, he’s got one half in the Black experience and one half in the sort of white slave owner structure experience. I’m excited to be a bad guy.

Marcel Stewart
I met with Alicia last week and she mentioned that you’re gonna be in her play. I don’t know if I said this out loud or if I said it in my head, that this feels like a Sebaissance? Like Sébastien Heins Renaissance? And I say Sebaissance besides, like, Renaissance. Sabaissance. Because I feel like I’ve known you for almost 10 years, but there was a period when you were away at Stratford, but then you also went to Chicago, and I know you’ve been working but, you’ve been working around! From No Save Points, to Topdog, to Alicia’s play in Toronto. I’m just like, “fuck yeah!” We should be seeing more than that! Let the Sebaissance begin!

Sébastien Heins
That’s really kind. It certainly has been a big year. I’m very grateful for it. Grateful for the caliber of artists that I get to work with on all these projects. You know what it’s like. That’s really what makes it what it is. I don’t know man. This kind of semi post-pandemic. thing, I feel like there’s a lot of emerging or reemerging going on. Like the bamboo. I heard the thing that bamboo just stays in the ground for a long time and then one day it just shoots 20 feet into the air. It just explodes. I think that’s been happening for a lot of artists. You included. One day it’s like we’re all farting around behind our computers during the pandemic and the next day you’re leading one of the most exciting companies. Where did that come from? Your’s is gonna be the Marcel-at-thon. The hot hot Marcel summer.

Marcel Stewart
Oh God no! Hot-cel Summer. I like it. Hot-cel Summer!

Sébastien Heins
Hot-cel Summer! Hot-cel Summer!

Marcel Stewart
I’m here for it. I’m here for it. I want you to have the last words here, because this is your thought residency. Are there any final thoughts or words that you want to share?

Sébastien Heins
This has just been such a great conversation. A very good conversation. I feel very well-taken care of. Other things that I want to say or things that I have been thinking about… you’re gonna spend the whole three minutes just in silence!

Marcel Stewart
We’re all reflecting on the pearls you’ve dropped!

Sébastien Heins
Yeah. I was listening to Smartless. Do you know the Smartless podcast? Yeah, it’s so silly. With Jason Bateman.

Marcel Stewart
They’re taking it on the road. They’re going on tour, live.

Sébastien Heins
Yeah! They interviewed Willem Defoe, I think a couple of weeks ago, who has an incredible theater pedigree and is totally a theater animal. Like you listen to him talk and he just feels like, for lack of a better term, he’s one of us. Which is really refreshing. Sometimes on Smartless when you’re like, “Oh, this is such a LA crowd.” And to hear Willem say things like, “yeah, I don’t take my cell phone onto set. That’s not the place for it.” I just love that. Anyway, so Williem, he was talking about how when you get to perform, it’s a really weird existence being a performer. Because I think as most performers know and feel, a lot of life kind of passes, not passes you by, but you engage with it somewhat passively. But the time that you spend on stage is some of the most charged, exciting moments and seconds and times in your entire life. It’s like life on steroids or something. You’re so present. And the audience makes it like that, and your scene partner makes it like that, and the material makes it like that. And I guess my last thought would be that being a performer is certainly a lot of work and it is an extraordinary privilege to because you do get to live a heightened life onstage for two and a half hours sometimes if you’re lucky. And I’m feeling a lot of gratitude for being able to live so…the only word I can think of is miraculously. Yeah. I think that’s something that we in this industry get to do. And I’m really thankful for that. And we get to do it with and through the audience all together. ally. It’s as I said before, there’s a huge amount of suffering sometimes involved in in getting these things on their feet and I think we do it because it’s ultimately worth it. And because the seconds of life that we live on those stages give us a double life. We sometimes live for 100 years on stage. It’s really amazing

 

Accessible Lovefest

Welcome to our fourth and final Thought Residency of 2022: Accessible Lovefest, co-curated by Cara Eastcott.

About this Thought Residency Cara offers: Cara, Pree and Harmeet have an intimate zoom conversation on a December evening. They share some thoughts on access intimacy, the challenge of growing into new career directions and some foundational approaches to shaping accessible spaces.

Click here for a transcript of the video.

Meet the Residents: 

Cara Eastcott is an independent culture worker. From 2011-2018, Cara worked at Tangled Art + Disability, where she curated programming, led Ontario-wide tours and expanded the organization’s connection to new and racialized communities. She curated the exhibition Legends Are the Rivers That Take Us Home in 2020 at the Thames Art Gallery in Chatham, Ontario which highlighted how storytellers harness the power of public history to sustain cultural communities. Currently, Cara is collaborating with artists, culture workers and communities to develop public art projects which aim to preserve cultural histories through intergenerational exchanges, oral storytelling, and relationship building.

Harmeet (they/them) is a fat, trans, and disabled, Sikh-Panjabi artist, designer, community organizer, and student living in Tkaronto. Using a disability justice framework in their work, Harmeet creates art that sensorly activates feelings of rest, pleasure, and slowness. Currently they are focusing on archival textile painting, illustration, accessible design, collaging, and graphic recording. Harmeet also creates workshop programming on these mediums and when they are not facilitating, they do accessibility and social media coordination and consultation. You can check out more of their work on Instagram (@harmeetrehal) or Harmeet-Rehal.com

Pree (they/them) is an interdisciplinary artist based in Tkaronto by way of Tiohtiake, with Panjabi ancestry. Their art style is inspired by community care, cultural heritage and storybook illustrations. Pree’s arts practice is called: Sticky Mangos (IG @stickymangos). Their art has been featured in Luminato Arts Festival, Design TO festival and the Art Gallery of Ontario. Their shop has been featured in CBC, Xtra magazine, and BlogTo. Pree is the creator of CRIP COLLAB and DigiZine, both of which create paid opportunities for artists who belong to, Disabled, racialized and 2SLGBTQ+ communities.

How Is Our Art Informed By Where We’re From?

Join Keshia Palm, Santiago Guzmán, Miki Wolf, and Kayvon Khoshkam on December 1st at 8:15pm for the third instalment of our 2022 Thought Residencies: How is our art informed by where we’re from? Catch is LIVE on our instagram: @spiderwebshow.


About the residents:

Keshia Palm is a Filipinx-German artist from Treaty 6 Territory who seeks to dismantle systems of oppression by creating thoughtful and inclusive art/spaces — as Producer, Director, Dramaturge, Playwright, and Actor. They have developed and performed new works with IBPOC, queer, women, and trans artists coast to coast. Since 2016, they’ve found community where there are trees standing in the water creating art, and supporting emerging artists through ArtistProducerResource.com, and artistic producing the Paprika Festival.

Santiago Guzmán (he/him/they) is an award-winning playwright, performer, director, and dramaturge originally from Metepec, Mexico, now based in St. John’s, NL. Santiago’s work aims to put local, under-represented narratives and characters on the frontlines, whilst inviting audiences to appreciate the vibrancy of Newfoundland and Labrador from a diverse perspective. As an immigrant, queer, and artist of colour, Santiago believes that representation matters.
www.sguzman.ca

Miki Wolf is a Yukon First Nations actor, dancer, playwright, and performance facilitator based on Traditional Southern Tutchone Territory in Whitehorse, Yukon. 

Kayvon Khoshkam (he/him) is a Canadian director, actor, producer, writer and musician. He was born and raised in Saskatoon, SK. He is a graduate of The Canadian College of Performing Arts with a focus on playwriting. He founded the Pull Festival: Vancouver’s 10 minute play festival (2012-2019), and was the Artistic Director of SpeakEasy Theatre (2016-2021). In 2015, Kayvon had the honour of being a member of The National Arts Centre’s English Theatre ensemble. Kayvon has worked across Canada, the United States and overseas.

Thought Residency: Faye Daydream

Faye Daydream is December’s featured Thought Residency artist of the ‘Class of 2020 – Fall Term’.

About Faye Daydream

Faye Daydream embodies intersections of oppression 1-4, she tells you this to justify her place within art making, and perhaps, so you will give her money? 

She is the last one in a ridiculous, yet expansive list of women ranging from the masterful to the cautionary tale. She’s a nod to the interconnectedness of the whole thing, and perhaps most importantly, she is an attempt at finding some clarity. 

She is typically horrified by artist biographies.

Thought Residency

Thought Transcriptions

 

Thought Residency: Shaista Latif

Shaista Latif is November’s featured Thought Residency artist of the ‘Class of 2020 – Fall Term’, as selected by October’s featured artist, Tsholo Khalema.

About Shaista Latif

Shaista Latif is an artist.

Thought Residency

Thought Transcriptions

Follow Shaista Latif on Instagram, or visit this link for more information.

Thought Residency: Tsholo Khalema

Tsholo Khalema is October’s featured Thought Residency artist of the ‘Class of 2020 – Fall Term’, as selected by September’s featured artist, Donna-Michelle St. Bernard.

About Tsholo Khalema

A multifaceted artist currently based in Toronto. A South African Transgender man born in the midst of apartheid and witnessed the fall of an era while assimilating to life in Canada. The last born in a Methodist house hold, growing up on the westernmost prairie provinces of Canada where he began his lifelong pursuit of learning the art of theatre and film. An Actor, director and a self-taught film editor/ photographer, his art practices aims to enhance the Black and Transgender voice(s) showing the many different diverse intersectionality of blackness. Tsholovisions is currently the 2019 | 2020 RBC Apprentice Director for The Musical Stage company.

Thought Residency

Thought Transcripts

Follow Tsholo Khalema on Twitter, Instagram or visit the official website for more information.

Thought Residency: Donna-Michelle St. Bernard

Donna-Michelle St. Bernard was September’s featured Thought Residency artist of the ‘Class of 2020 – Fall Term’.

First Thought

#1 FIRST THOUGHT EVER

My name is Donna-Michelle St. Bernard and this is my first thought.
Ever.
This is the very first thought that I have ever had.
I mean, obviously I’ve had thoughts before
but I was asked to introduce myself in that way –
this is my first thought –
and I’m not a liar
so I threw away everything that I ever knew before
and I thought to myself,
“well if it was true before and I knew it before,
then it is true still and I will surely come to know it again”
They say that the joy is in the learning so I will have that twice,
the learning.
I will get two times to know
the thing that I thought that I knew
before I thought that they told me to throw it away,
though now I think that maybe nobody said that
but it’s too late.
It’s all gone.
And this is my first thought,
and I haven’t really thought anything yet
so I’d better get started thinking.
What am I good for.
That’s my first thought.
What am I good for.
I didn’t say it would be a complete thought.
What good what that be?  // (music credit: Days by Everest Media)

Second Thought

#2 RESISTANCE/RELEASE

My name is Donna-Michelle St. Bernard and this is my second thought.
Last night I dreamt of my brothers, both runners.
We all were. That was a thing to do, in my family.
A thing to be excellent at. Running.
One thing I picked up off of them was the trick of training in water.
Conditioning.
Getting into a pool knee or waist or shoulders deep,
running across its width as hard as possible, back and forth.
For runners, accustomed to and striving for speed, it’s frustrating.
the water pushing back against your efforts,
the dissonance between your labour and the outcome.
It’s hard.
But by the time you get back to dry land,
you are an earthman landing on the moon.
Gravity is a non-factor.
After engineering all of this resistance, the race is a release,
a flight, you can achieve a seemingly superhuman speed.

Now, in this moment, there is no need to engineer resistance, it is there.
We are in it, and unless we stand still,
we are strengthening beneath the surface.
When I get back on dry land, I will be released, and I will fly.
Now, I just need to understand, in this moment,
what is the water?
And what is the race?
Good teaching, bro.

Third Thought

#3 HOW LONG IS A WALK?

My name is Donna-Michelle St. Bernard and this is my third thought.
Today a friend invited me to go for a walk.
That’s nice.
Having a friend, them wanting to see you, wanting to see them, saying yes.
I can dig it.
She says two o’clock at the entrance to the park and i say yes.
I’ve never been to the park. I don’t know where the park is.
instead of looking up where the park is, i look up who it’s named after to see how i feel about being there, and then i go.
now, had i looked at a map i would have seen that the time it took to get to the place where our walk would begin is approximately the amount of time after which i think that a walk should end. but i am here, she is here, we are beginning.
we walk, and we walk, and we walk.
til i’m like, “oh, that’s a nice bench. let’s go look at it.”
we sit. then we walk some more.
and it’s nice, because i like her and we are spending time together.
but that walk was like jumping into a collaborative project without asking any questions upfront because i like the people involved. because they asked, and that was nice, so i got excited and committed to a thing that i thought ended where they thought it began, and i don’t know my own way home from here, so here we go, i’m walking.
Today, i agreed to the walk, but if we had walked one more minute than we did, i might like my friend just a little bit less, and that would have nothing to do with anything that she did.
next time i’ll ask. but now that i know her definition of “a walk”, she could probably get me to go anywhere.

Fourth Thought

#4 COLLATERAL ANIMALS

When I was a young Catholic schoolgirl, I thought Jeanne d’arc was the most badass. wearing pants, hearing god, sitting up on a horse, riding into battle, on fire, for some reason.  She seemed to be on fire.  At some point it occurred to me that never in history, not once, not ever, has a horse asked to be ridden headfirst into a rain of arrows or a wall of spears.  Anyhow, today what I think is that if PETA really wants my attention, they should get to work liberating every police dog who never asked to be weaponized, and every police horse who wasn’t born to tread pavement and terrorize protestors.  Get them all out of the way so we can abolish those slave catchers without collateral damage.  I’m saying.

Fifth Thought

#5 YOU ARE ENOUGH

My name is Donna-Michelle St. Bernard and this is my fifth thought.

It’s for you.

You are enough. 

No bells, no whistles, just you.  It’s enough. 

Not because you’re better than you used to be

not because you’re as good as someone else.  

Forget that.

Just be with yourself, out of context.

Don’t measure up.

Don’t measure anything.

That’s uncomfortable

cuz if your value is not tied to your accomplishments, your intelligence, your earnings, your status, your face, your birthplace or your family name, then how can you use any of those things to judge other people’s value?  something has gotta be worth something, right? else how will i know who sucks and who’s the best?  i’m not trying to let go of that, i’m trying to be the best, i basically am that, but somebody else is always getting better so i need to keep ahead… 

this is my fifth thought and it is for me.

Me, you are enough.

Calm down.

(photo by Keith Barker)

Sixth Thought

#6 WORTHY

My name is Donna-Michelle St. Bernard and this is my sixth thought.

I want to be worthy

in whatever service I’m able.

But worthy’s a short swerve away from “of use”

Opposite of refuse,

perilously close to productive,

which is nothing like worthy, as a word,

and useless to it as a companion concept.

Worth is more like work – no, that’s a trap.

It’s more like value, or values, in my calculus.  

I am neither parts nor a sum

but a thrumming existence

resistant to quantification,

however benevolent. 

I’m relevant, I’m broken, I’m dented, I’m perfect, I’m junk. 

And junk is beautiful and you are, too. 

I value you.

(Photo Credit Keith Barker. It is a picture of a 6 car pileup. The cars are 1970 vintage toy cars)

Seventh Thought

#7 FIND JOY, TOO

My name is Donna-Michelle St. Bernard and this is my seventh thought.
whenever Desmond Cole shares photos of flowers, I smile.
I can’t read more than a chapter of
“The Skin I’m In”,
not in one sitting, without hitting a nerve
and needing a breath
before reading the next.
thinking this substantial text
holds just a fraction of the actions undertaken
to receive the story, and to convey it.
I am stilled by a portion of what he relates,
a small shard of what he has heard,
stilled, though only ever glimpsing the edge
Of the people and pages
and pixels and grief that the writer receives
and distills for us,
the guts that they spill for us
and what it takes to pack them back in again,
never mind the ones that won’t fit anymore,
so full of new truths, crowding out room for you
some people do that every day,
on public pages, in private homes,
alone in the long dark night of the soul.
If someone is willing to do all that, then I want them to have joy, too.
I’m so happy when they find joy.
Have you seen this guy’s smile?

(photo credit: Desmond Cole. music: Smile by Nat King Cole)

Eighth Thought

#8 PRETTY

My name is Donna-Michelle St. Bernard and this is my eighth thought.
I rarely use the word “pretty” without irony.
It’s like “nice.” Essentially positive but so banal as to be back-handed.
Lately I think it’s curve-related:
The air is so thick with hyperbole that if you’re pretty, you’re several levels below drop-dead gorgeous – so attractive that you could literally end someone’s life, aesthetically. And we don’t even know what the top of that scale is yet, but pretty ain’t it. We’ve gone so high that pretty is about one up from plain.
I understand that language evolves. I just don’t like when words get taken away in bad faith. Not over time, with usage, but in front of our eyes, with malice. Which is happening.
It’s probably the thing I appreciate most about African American vernacular – a survivance tongue that can’t be taken: it’s resistance to codification, it’s improv-adeptness, both in creating and interpreting new configurations of old symbols, old syllables, the reuse of existing expression invested instantly with new meaning by context. It’s verdant, sprawling and variegated. It’s complex and alive, and I love it. It’s pretty.

(photo by Desmond Cole. Sounds from zapsplat)

Ninth Thought

#9 STRONGER

My name is Donna-Michelle St. Bernard and this is my ninth thought.  

You are not stronger thanks to your trauma.  Don’t fall for that.  Maybe your strength got you through it, but that was yours.  Maybe you grew through it, but that was you.  You don’t need to thank your trauma, you deserved to live without it, to be strong without it, to grow without it.  

I’m not trying to diminish your struggle. 

I just want to give credit where it’s due.  

Check it out.  

You survived.  

You did that. 

You made you.

Thanks. 

(Photo by Desmond Cole, music by Adot The God)

Tenth Thought

#10 RED BOOTS

My name is Donna-Michelle St. Bernard and this is my tenth thought.  

I have these red boots.  I love them.  As soon as I saw them I knew my life would change if I could only have them.  Then I got those boots.  I love them.  And I almost never wear them.  They are those things that are so special, too special, no occasion is ever special enough for me to unsheathe their majesty.  They’re not gonna get muddy or wet or worn shiny on that one toe I like to rub against the back of my calf.  You can barely tell they have anything to do with me.  They just sit there, pristine and neglected.  Like the phone numbers of all my most cherished friends.

And since this isn’t new behaviour, I can predict that by the time I finally decide to put those boots on, they will no longer fit, and I will have wasted a very good boot.  My boots deserve better than that.

Eleventh Thought

#11 HAN SHOT FIRST 

My name is Donna-Michelle St. Bernard and this is my eleventh thought.  

I recently got into a thing with a collaborator about whether Han shot first.  Not really about if he did or not, but about whether it matters if he did or not, and whether that is a thing worth saying.  It matters, I assure you.  If you’re a nerd, ten times more.  But if you’re outside the culture, you might not see why.  And if I try to explain it to you I inevitably bring more niche terms into the conversation that move you further from understanding and closer to confirming your theory that no one will know what I’m talking about.  If you are not receptive to understanding, ten times more.  More importantly, things matter even if they don’t to you, even if they don’t to most, even if you don’t understand why they do.  Han shot first.  Because the past is what happened, not what you wish did.  He shot first, that’s a fact.  I’m passionate about it.  And no amount of CGI muzzle flashes will convince me Greedo did anything more than walk into the Mos Eisley cantina.  Holler at me, nerds.

(image from Rigzsoft.co.uk)

Twelfth Thought

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#12 – I CAN HELP

This is DM, and we’re at number twelve.

I used to work at a nursing home, at the reception desk.  As a result, I was often the first point of contact for families visiting residents.  This one guy would visit his mother about three times a week.  He was nice enough, but never chatty.  One night he comes in, heads my way, leans over my desk with urgency in his eyes, and says, “I can help.”  I ask him, “Help with what?”  He says, “Your problem.  With your hair.”  I say nothing, he goes on.  “What you need is margarine.  That’ll weigh it down.  Fix your problem.”  I said thank you. 

Maybe this had nothing to do with the new afro pick I bought the next day.  Maybe.  Nowadays, I often have a good intention checked by hearing Yvette Nolan’s voice in my head, echoing from our days together at Native Earth, “Donna, don’t help.”

(photo by Isidra Cruz)

Thirteenth Thought

#13 JUST VISITING

This is Donna-Michelle St. Bernard.  This is thought number thirteen.

I never want to be a tourist

A person who observes the external from a distance that they are at pains to retain because the view down the bridge of the nose is quite pleasing.  Everything is quaint. Your time in another person’s life is like a dream if you don’t look past the seams that are sewn to contain what is shown to you.  If you only get and take and enrich yourself with experience.   

I prefer to be a guest, one who is invited, who sees that it is more than an offer to be accepted or declined, but a door being opened to come closer, actively0.  My time in another person’s life as a sacrifice of their privacy, their patience, their hospitality, a sacrifice that I should not meet empty-handed.

I’d rather be a guest than a tourist.  Though I know that, often I think that I am one, when I am in fact the other.  

At the beginning of our collaboration based on his very personal story, photographer Nir Bareket Wright said to me, “I gladly invite you into my soul.  I only ask that you first take off your shoes.”  

I felt that.  You should see where my shoes have been.  

You should consider where yours have.

Tread gently with each other. 

(music by Blunted Beatz.  photo by Brenda St. Bernard)

Fourteenth Thought (Final Thought)

 

#14 NEVER NOT TRYING

This is Donna-Michelle St. Bernard with my fourteenth and final thought.

I am trying my best.  I have grown so much and changed not at all.  There is a small part of me that is untouched by injustice and cynicism.  A part of me still open to criticism.  There is still a portion not smudged with distortion.  A part undiscouraged by not-yet-but-nearly.  That prays just in case God hears me.  There is still some unreasonable faith that people of purpose can drive out the snakes.  That people can be their best selves if they choose it.  That there is healing in music. 

That the world is sick

That loneliness afflicts.

That we’re in the same ship.

And it’s a all-of-us fix

That it’s not on me.  

That what I do matters but it’s not all on me.  It never was.  

We are many.  We are ready.  We are strong. 

I am a part of something I could not do alone.

And my whole entire job is the same as it always was: to try my best. 

So I am trying my best. Bear with me.  

Class of 2020

Welcome to The Thought Residencies.

And not just any old thought residency but ones coming from the Class of 2020 and the Fall Term Residency!

This semester of questionable schooling decisions, the thoughts are going longer and themes are being considered. 

Resistance revolution resilience reclamation and relay.

However they arise. It is time for something. That’s for sure. 

This 4-pack of Fall Term Residents are going to pass the baton from one resident to the next. Starting with Donna-Michelle St Bernard, each thinker will have been tapped by the thinker that went before them. I can’t wait to see who will cross us over into 2021.

Launched in 2014, the thought residency was one of our first. I love it, a lot. 

In short samples, you can hear and/or read, theatre folks sharing their thoughts, ideas, and feelings. My first impulse for the Thought Residencies was to offer a brief holiday from the mantle of our own thoughts, to create a space to virtually unwind over brief interludes with some of our country’s most interesting performance creators.

In the ‘before times’, each month, I invited an artist to join us. In turn, we invite you to listen to their thoughts. New thoughts are born online each Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday. And with the class of 2020 you can find thoughts on the same release schedule but the curation process has changed.  

It is completely free and digitally intimate. If you would like to respond to the thoughts please feel free to write to us at help@spiderwebshow.ca. 

Sarah Garton Stanley

 

 

Curator/Creator, Thought Residencies, Executive Producer, SpiderWebShow
September 1, 2020

Class of 2020 Thought Residents

Click on an Artist to experience their Thought Residency! You can find their videos, images, audio and transcriptions here.

Thought Residency: Alan Dilworth

My name is Alan Dilworth and this is thought number twelve.

My mind is particularly busy this morning. Front of mind is those who are most vulnerable, those who are experiencing systemic inequalities, and how they are amplified and exacerbated during COVID-19. I am thinking about universal basic income. I am thinking about how to live more with less. I am thinking about sharing resources in new ways. I am thinking about Necessary Angel. And I am thinking about the need to play, whatever that means. SpiderWebShow, thank you for having me. Take care all and be well.

My name is Alan Dilworth and this is thought number eleven.

Approbation – who receives it? From whom? For what? It is an important human experience to receive approbation. It is very healthy, arguably even necessary, especially at key moments in one’s life. In terms of giving, I do think it is common or perhaps easy to give approbation to those one identifies with. Today I am thinking about the giving of approbation to those one does not identify with. Perhaps obvious, but maybe not.

My name is Alan Dilworth and this is thought number ten.

I am thinking about the balance between stillness/silence and action. Earlier I was thinking about stillness and silence, more specifically about silence and stillness less as an escape or getaway from life, more a letting go, an opening of the gates for something to move forward- for the release of something. Now the question… what is that something? And what was getting in its way in the first place?

My name is Alan Dilworth and this is thought number nine

The encounters I have witnessed on the street have become more casual. Children seem to be getting closer together. There is sunshine. Did I wash my hands properly when I came inside? Halifax is bubbling.

My name is Alan Dilworth, and this is thought number eight.

I am thinking about minds and hearts. In particular during this time of crisis when there is so much uncertainty and anxiety. I wonder how peoples’ minds and hearts are doing. I sit on a cushion everyday, in the morning, and am still and quiet. But inside are storms. Calms. Outside the sun is shining. I cut an apple. Children are social distance playing. Two neighbours fought last night, no punches but yelling. With their children beside them. Real conflict. Different ways of seeing things, some shared and unique anxieties. I stood between them. My daughter witnessed it all and couldn’t get to sleep, later waking in the night. Fireworks in the sky, fireworks in hearts and minds.

My name is Alan Dilworth, and this is thought number seven.

With the opening of some isolation restrictions around the world it is hard not to default to the hope of a return to the way things were. Hmmm. How have things changed? For one, our house is beginning to enter a new chapter. I can’t help but think that somehow we have incorporated some more eclectic approaches to how we arrange objects and use space that reflects both more recent years, and an earlier period in our lives together. To me, it’s like we are time travelling as we move forward moment by moment. Three of us now. I think this time has invited us to take stock and thread together – not too neatly, mind you- many experiences that, before lockdown seemed harder to hold, or remember as one continuum with many chapters. Now it seems less a series of books on shelf, and more a book of many stories.

My name is Alan Dilworth, and this is thought number six.

This morning I am thinking about the joy of two way radios, or walkie talkies. My daughter asked for a pair so she can chat with one of her best friends who lives in a townhouse across from us. They have a date at 11am this morning to walkie talkie talk. This morning her friend shared her handle- Matilda. My daughter’s handle is Madonna. After a short chat about airwave stranger danger, my daughter and I talked about some of the joys of two way radio life. I flashbacked to the late 70’s, I was a little kid, and we were on a road trip to a wedding in North Carolina. My sister’s boyfriend had a CB radio- he did some sideline truck driving. We spent hours listening to and talking with trucker drivers. I can’t remember what my handle was on that trip, but today my handle would be Lockdown Busy Schedule Dad. Over.

My name is Alan Dilworth, this is thought number five.

I am always curious about how ideas and experiences are shaped by the containers we use to contain them. Some containers are conceptual, some spatial, intellectual, metaphorical, spiritual, financial, and in our moment most certainly digital. So many of us are experiencing Zoom as a container for our professional and personal communication. Zoomunication. When it comes to containers, I am always thrilled when I experience the experimenting with the use of the container, with its opportunities and its limitations- its boundaries, and in the process stretching and developing the ideas contained by the container. I like determining whether the container and the idea or purpose are a good fit. Sometimes this work with a container results in a breakthrough in the possibilities of what the container itself could be, and/or sometimes a breakthrough in the nature of the idea contained. I love these breakthroughs. I love these transformation-moments. Small t, medium t or BIG T moments. I love them.

My name is Alan Dilworth, this is thought number four.

This curtain is the curtain that I sit in front of every morning. This morning it struck me how much an object, like this curtain, can sum up part of this experience of staying at home. We are spending so much time confined in our spaces. We are encountering the same objects over and over again. This morning sitting in front of the curtain, I was struck by the curtain’s curtainness. It moves in a gentle, lazy way when blown by a breeze, it diffuses and softens sunlight, and the fabric is textured but soft. And for a moment I am completely insignificant to myself. What a relief! Just this curtain. Extraordinary ordinary. And then off I go.

My name is Alan Dilworth, this is thought number three.

This is my daughter two days ago riding one of two bikes that she was regifted. This bike was given to her almost three years ago. It’s too small for her, but she is riding it anyways because she is motivated to master this bike thing, and anyways the other bike was not yet in Toronto. This image is her rocking it during homeschool recess. She was buzzing up and down our street wowing me with her new going-downhill-pedal-break-technique. A middle aged man walked by us, smiled, and said. “Riding a bike… it’s great… it makes the young feel old and the old feel young.” Ten minutes later, a young couple driving by rolled down the window -yelled “Yay!”, and applauded her fresh success. Exhilarating. Time to get out my Masi Uno and pump up the tires.

My name is Alan Dilworth, this is thought number two.

I am thinking about the rhythm and experience of change today, about being raw, the knife’s edge, glowing coals stepping out from behind what is the known into the… unknown. I am thinking about uncertainty, about texts and words and ideas and experiences that rob one of the ground under one’s feet. I am thinking about Erin Shields and Jose Saramago and Edward Bond and Spike Lee. I am thinking about writers and directors and choreographers and actors and designers and artistic directors. I am thinking about art. That’s today.

My name is Alan Dilworth, and this is thought number one.

I’m in the process of translating something I created called The Stillness Room to a live digital platform. The Stillness Room is the coming together in a room, most often with a group of theater-makers, to experience silence and stillness but with a simple but clear container. The Stillness Room has been about making time and space, literally and figuratively, through stillness and silence and buildings where people are making theater, with unique challenges, pressures, and rhythms that we might recognize as of the theater. Those rhythms have been disrupted. What is The Stillness Room now? As I wrestle with translation from room to digital room, I am reminded of how centrally people who work in theater have figured into the vision of the whole thing. What does it mean to be a theater worker in this moment? I’m curious about what will be lost and what will be gained in translation.