Interview with Black Theatre Workshop Assistant Artistic Director Mike Payette
Editor’s Note:
When I read Mike Payette’s Facebook Note about experiencing blackface by as an audience member at Théâtre du Rideau Vert, I asked him if he would like to republish it immediately on praxistheatre.com. It had an urgency and immediacy that I wanted to help amplify. He gave it a small edit and and the title Not My Theatre. We published it three days before Christmas, which is historically a lousy time for traffic.
By the time New Years hit, it was the most-read post on the site in 2014.
A) Why did you choose to first publish this piece on Facebook?
After hearing about the use of blackface on stage in my city, it had brought back to light past accounts that I had read through the press dating back years; the presence of it in our cultural and educational institutions. These examples were only stories I had heard, but I hadn’t personally seen it live on stage until the Théâtre du Rideau Vert’s year-end revue. Once I had seen it, I had not been prepared for the visceral reaction I would have. It was right in front of me and I could not escape the image. I thought about it over the course of that night, lost sleep over it, and agonized over it the morning after until — perhaps impulsively – I saw an outlet to express my thoughts.
I am a fairly private person and issues related to race (and other) politics had mainly been explored or discussed amongst peers or sometimes through my work; rarely on social media. At the time, I couldn’t vocally articulate what had happened, so I chose to write the thoughts before posting it on facebook. Once I had, I expected only a few comments, maybe an engaged discussion, but deep down I was hoping that my contribution would add to what had already existed concerning this event, and that ultimately TRV would find out and remove the sketch.
B) Has anything changed in the discourse about the use blackface in Quebec theatre from this incident?
This is history repeating itself. There have been dozens of articles over the past few years “reporting” on the persistence of blackface in Québec culture. In this particular instance, there are about 20 publications (and counting) surrounding the racist act. If anything, it has put to light a very clear delineation of philosophies regarding freedom of expression, slavery and race awareness within Québec and Canada and whether or not people should be respectful of that history – rather, believe it ever existed – and further, the responsibility of what messages and images we bring forward to our audiences, and inevitably, our society.
It appears as though those who have called out any act of racism or this use of blackface are being accused of a) using an example of an American and British history that is outside of a Québec (Canadian) experience b) making a big deal over nothing because it’s “just make-up” c) not understanding that Québec is “different” than other provinces, and that its cultural heritage is being attacked.
The majority of these people are, apparently, Francophone Québecers, and it is here that the biggest line has been drawn, one that is frightening as a Québec-born individual such as myself. What has evolved is a lot of people’s strengthening platform to call out offensive representation, but it is an incredibly uncomfortable environment in the arts in Québec right now. The response, after weeks of effort, of begging for dialogue (not soap-boxing), was that TRV and Artistic Director Denise Filiatrault – due to their outrage of being singled out – will never hire a Black actor for their these shows again. And the sketch was never pulled for its original nor extended run.
Where some have been looking for progress, others have supported a completely arrogant dismissal of what it is that’s being talked about and a mockery of those who feel offended. People speaking out about this (and I mean ALL who have shared, commented, liked, been interviewed, etc) are not asking for common understanding and respect (humanity) because they want to, but because they have to.
C) A corollary result of this discourse has been to reveal a large gap between Anglo and Franco media on identity politics. French media has (with exceptions) been largely ambivalent about blackface at TRV, while Anglo media has continued to pursue it. How to get this issue taken more seriously by French language media in the future?
There have been a few exceptions wherein not every French media outlet is trying to hold on to a ridiculous notion that blackface is not a historically racist symbol. Moreover, it should be noted that Diversité artistique Montréal (DAM), a primarily Francophone organization supporting the rights of ALL diverse cultures within the city’s arts landscape, has been one of the forefront speakers opposing the use of blackface by the theatre.
Recently, a La Presse journalist took a position to highlight what it was that Québec was trying to defend (in their use of blackface), for what purposes, and that – despite “good intentions” blackface is not a good option – EVER. It was one of, if not THE first piece from French media that saw this as a serious issue; coming over a month after the first Anglo article, and almost a week after the show closed. But every bit helps.
What would directly affect theatres (and let’s consider all performing arts) is a discussion with the organizations, unions, funding bodies, and audiences that support the arts, both in English and French to put all cards on the table regarding this discussion and the use of historic oppressive symbols that are being touted in public forums. Let’s bring to the table CEOs of Québecor or Vidéotron who support TRV and see how they feel about their sponsoring of these acts. Let’s hear from le Conseil québécois de théâtre (the French equivalent of the Professional Association of Canadian Theatres) as well as Union des artistes who have remained noticeably silent throughout this.
For myself, I will not perpetuate the argument that this is a Franco vs. Anglo issue as we all live within the same rich geography and we all have a responsibility to pursue acceptance, acknowledgement and respect for how we wish to grow and evolve together. Québec has been regarded as a haven for many cultures entering Canada, to thrive and coexist, so there is no longer room for hypocrisy here.
D) What’s the most important thing you’re taking away from your experience being at the centre of this discussion?
This is a very long road.
However, the reach in which this story has taken has been a real banding together of minds who are trying to move forward, despite some very hurtful, harmful, and pervasively ugly voices and “trolling” that are trying to prevent that. I am pleased to see a continuing awareness of this from coast to coast, uniting for and standing up for Black and other artists of colour in Québec and Canada, because we equally share a deep love and passion for what it is that we do.
Having to remind people of this is exhausting, sometimes deflating. Having to prove to your neighbour – quite literally sometimes – of symbols that many parts of the world have already excepted as racist and offensive carries a lot of weight and asks the question of how far we have actually come. One of the most frequent responses to the blackface coverage has been “How could this happen? It’s 2015!” Yes. It is. I look forward to a time when we don’t have to call out the present as being a reflection of the past.
READ: “Not My Theatre“.
“IS BLACKFACE OFFENSIVE?” – SOMEHOW, A REAL QUESTION IN 2015.
In recent weeks, there have been dozens of discussions, conversations, and social media debates about the use of Blackface, and whether or not it is offensive. These conversations have been exhausting and infuriating to many people of all ethnicities, nationalities, and walks of life. Some argue that the intent of someone performing in Blackface should outweigh the impact of it. I say that there is nothing to debate, and there is no argument. Blackface is degrading, humiliating, and offensive.
Okay, before we go any further, if you’re in need, here is some Blackface 101 : http://black-face.com/
HISTORY.
The historical impact of Blackface is immeasurable. It’s a racist, demeaning act, used to deny black people our right to self representation, and it has helped to create many of the racial stereotypes that plague us today.
Very true, we are not talking about Louisiana. We’re talking about Canada, 2015 (and I’m specifically talking about Montreal, Quebec).
“Something humorous”? “Learn to laugh and racism dies”? Blackface is not funny. It never was, and it never will be. Ethnicities aren’t costumes to be put on for jokes. Let’s stay on topic here—
Wait, I’m sorry… huh? Did you just say “racism is dead”? I thought I had to “learn to laugh” before it died? Did I learn what’s allegedly funny about Blackface during the last paragraph? I’m confused, please elaborate…
Hold on, wait… so, you’re calling me racist? For calling out the racist practice of Blackface? Please explain how that makes any sense…?
Yes, thank you. That’s the point I was trying to make before —
PRIVILEGE.
Ok guys, once again this is not a joke. It’s really not funny to be told to “Relax a bit”, when you don’t feel my frustration, nor are you trying to empathize and understand why this hurts me.
Believe me, I would love to just “move past it” like Uncle Remus (see: Song of The South), but I’d rather take the time to acknowledge and deal with the uncomfortable issue at hand, so that the next wave of people behind us don’t have to keep repeating the same conversations over and over. Doesn’t that make sense?
Ok I guess not… Anyways, Like I was saying, we need to acknowledge that you might have a privilege that affords you to not need to “care about the issue” the same way that I do. I shared the Blackface 101 link with you above, because some of us are coming into this discussion at the 600 level. I won’t use “better” vs. “worse”, but let’s say that even today in Montreal, black people are still treated differently than white people. Can we begin with acknowledging that?
Did you just call the portrayal of PK Subban in Blackface “a tribute”? I’m not sure if you realize how offensive that sounds. No, not ‘sounds’, is.
DERAILING A CONVERSATION.
Yes, thank you. Ok. Let’s try to get back to the discussion in terms of performance, shall we?
This is exhausting…
You know what guys, you’re not even trying to hear each other, so—
…Bye Felicia.
He should’ve never done it in Blackface, I agree with that part. (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tWCe6bW0-Fs) as for the rest, Whatchu Talkin’ Bout? uugh…
We clearly need a resolution, folks. How do we get there? How do we have these conversations without personal attacks, name calling, and raw emotions bubbling to the surface every time?
Blackface is racist. And I don’t use that word lightly, because it carries much weight. Racism is heavy, ugly stuff. I know this because I experience it every day on some way, big or small.
This stuff is exhausting. I’ve seen threads with debates between theatre goers, theatre practitioners, and theatre critics. And although great points get made on every one of them, each time someone questions whether or not Blackface is even offensive in the first place, I feel like I’ve stepped out of a DeLorean. We are in 2015, and if you still choose to say “oh, that actor was just wearing brown make-up on his face, he wasn’t in Blackface”, then your cognitive dissonance is stronger than most, and you should bottle it for you are truly of a rare breed.
Maybe everyone is a bit sensitive these days.
Or, maybe so many are desensitized.
Let’s call a spade a spade and be clear: Blackface is racist.Calling something racist is not offensive, particularly when said thing is Blatantly racist.
Making “jokes” about stereotypes of black people, while wearing brown make-up and bright red lipstick is absolutely racist. Blackface tells black people that “You don’t belong. We don’t need you to represent yourself, we’ll do it, mockingly, or otherwise.” There is so much history that is available at our fingertips about why it is offensive, and how it has been used to humiliate black people. World history. Canadian history. Quebec history. Je me souviens. My hope is that we all remember.
And if not, then I hope the people who continue to perform in Blackface can’t remove their makeup after their next show, so that they can deal with the consequences of having a real black face in today’s world. Perhaps then some empathy can seep in.
Here are some links worth checking out:
- Intent Vs. Impact:
- Black & White movies:
- Jay Smooth “How To Tell Someone They Sound Racist“:
- Here’s Why Racism’s Not “Just Comedy”:
- Bye Bye 2006:
- Ensemble contre le Blackface:
- Vice article:
- “Tradition” :
*All names and photos from publicly viewable social media debates have been removed because this is not about making anyone a target, it’s about showing that these conversations are still in existence, today in 2015. And that needs to change.*
The Use of Imagery and The Plural Public
For French-Canadians in the Belle Province, the dictum is infused with recollections of past wrongs, linguistic oppression of the “white negro of the Americas”, and the triumphs of a nation once (and still?) threatened with extinction. Quebeckers refer to it as “louisianisation”: the loss of the Francophone identity, language and culture through assimilation… Like the former French colony Louisiana, now USA.
The “Je me souviens” slogan conjures up strong images for “Quebecois de souche”. It does not, however, have the same potency for the rest of Quebec residents. Aboriginals, for example, might not have fuzzy feelings when the theme of remembrance is evoked. The Mohawk community of Kanesatake, near Montreal, may remember how their land was stolen from underneath them to build—of all things – a golf course. This is a symbol of long-standing land disputes by colonisers.
Jewish Quebeckers remember how they were barred from attending public schools and hospitals. For them, remembering means reminding themselves of their resilience and the need to retain their hard-fought cultural institutions.
Indeed, the “Je me souviens” motto means different things to different people.
In the artistic community, imagery and sounds are manipulated to stir up feelings, sentiment, incidents. A short musical clip can set the mood better than any verbal introduction. What might an image mean to an increasingly plural audience? It is often lost on injudicious theatre producers.
In short, Canada isn’t lily white anymore. The images which once made an entire (all-white) audience laugh have lost their shine. That was the case for Montreal’s Rideau Vert theatre, founded in 1949, which purportedly has used blackface numerous times in the past. The theatre renewed with its tradition during their end-of-year comic relief revue. Not a single member of the francophone press, ostensibly monochromatic, noticed the slight (or seemed to care). Like the boy in The Sixth Sense who sees infractions no one else sees, the potency of blackface does not sting a nation unfamiliar with its own checkered past, including slavery , minstrel shows and legalized anti-black racism.
But the afro-Québecois – Ils se souviennent. They remember.
They remember the struggles waged by their parents and forefathers to gain a sliver of dignity. They remember the jobs they weren’t allowed to apply for, the apartments they weren’t allowed to rent, the music clubs they weren’t allowed to enter. For younger Black Quebeckers the memories aren’t so far behind: in the era of racial profiling by police and proven racism by the municipal employer, among others.
Interestingly, federal representatives are well aware that the British monarchy has different connotations in Quebec. And so are the Royals. Even the famous Queen Elizabeth Hotel can make some people uncomfortable, as it was, for a long time, a place of privilege forbidden to the lower class, known as “les Canadiens-francais”.
It is high time the courtesy be extended to all citizens of this multicultural nation.
Aboriginals from the Prairies might burn their invitation to Sir John A. Macdonald’s year-long 200th birthday party, after he worked so hard to starve them, seize their lands. Chinese-Canadians have similar gripes, stemming back to the Chinese Head Tax and being stripped of voting rights.
For many, clergy are symbols of enlightenment. But for the Quebeckers who fought to break off the yoke of the oppressive Church, the religious zealots are met with suspicion and trepidation. Right or wrong, these views are rooted in their collective history.
Likewise, when slave descendants are fed images of cotton or sugar cane fields, the shadow of that peculiar institution isn’t far behind. Meanwhile, these crops, as seen in the film “12 Years a Slave”, simply reminded a CBC arts & culture reviewer of “pleasing summer weather”.
Today, Quebec is an evolving experiment, a fusion of flavours, an amalgamation of cultures which blossom into an unrivalled delicacy that is the envy of the world. The “Je me souviens,” battle cry for the preservation of Quebec’s distinct collective memory, is a portent motto: it encompasses an ever wider range of righteous remembrances.
#CdnCult Times; Volume 4, Edition 8
Blackface in Québec. An Anglo (@MartinPatriquin) explains: http://t.co/a3VWCUm1kr And a Franco (me) http://t.co/7WKjxsdYrb
— Patrick Lagacé (@kick1972) January 17, 2015
SpiderWebShow AD Sarah Stanley was a lot more involved in this issue because we talked a lot about it, tweeted about it, and sent a lot of links and update to one another about it. And we both sent a lot of emails in an effort to find opposing opinions to the ones that are held in this edition. At the end of the day we realized that the other side always finds a way to be heard and that the right side often doesn’t. So we curated an issue that spoke to the side of the issue that seemed to us to be both in the right and under-heard.
And besides we are not reporters. We are theatre makers who are interested in how theatre gets made. This is an important issue because traditions and conventions are there for a reason. But conventions need to be questioned and ultimately rejected if they stop contributing to good theatre, and in this instance of blackface, this “tradition”, this convention, no longer works.
Michael Wheeler, Editor-in-Chief: #CdnCult Times
Sarah Garton Stanley, Artistic Director: SpiderWebShow
Territories
Play: Territories || Playwright: Niki Landau
Shoot: Pointe St Charles|| Model: Olivier Bouyssou, Evelyne Desjardins
SARA: You know, I think you’re right. Peace is overrated. It’s like marriage. All the negociations, all the compromises. You ask yourself, is it worth it? To have to smile when you want to spit. To cut your dick off, just so the other person doesn’t feel threatened. To lie, and lie, and say everything’s alright, when the truth is you’re dying, your soul is dying because all of those fucking compromises and you realize that you’ve traded freedom to just buy a little stability. And there’s nothing stable about it, is there? It could fall apart at any time, and then it’s like nothing ever happened. You’re back to square one, only dickless. No thanks. I’m with you. Fuck peace. I want a divorce.
Territories premiered in November 2005 at Theatre Passe Muraille in Toronto.
Owning the Means of Cultural Production
The most 2014 thing I did in 2014 was Twitter-view Monologist Mike Daisey using #DaiseyTO – while sitting across from him at the same Dark Horse Café.
Having written about Daisey and his ideas about independent art creation on praxistheatre.com several times, it was a great opportunity to take a discussion about how the North American theatre ecology has evolved to an increasingly influential Twittersphere. The most salient piece of advice he had was:
+ 100 MT @mdaisey: .@sommerau Make your own shit. Always. Own the means of production. Always. Every theater maker must know this. #DaiseyTO
— Michael Wheeler (@michaelcwheeler) May 20, 2014
Since this twitterview, it has been a busy time during which I became Executive Director and Transformation Designer of Small Theatre Administrative Facility, which is in the midst of large-scale changes. (Also it seems Daisey has quit all social media, with even his website becoming private.)
At STAF, We announced what these would be in a broad sense through a letter to the community this November, and the aim is to maximize the impact the organization can have on independent theatre by shifting from a fees-for-services model to a capacity-building organization for the sector. The letter lays out the structural factors underlying these changes, but the point made by Daisey above crystallizes philosophically what this transformation represents:
Currently, independent theatre favours entrepreneurial self-producing artists who own the means of production. I like this language because it is clear, concise, and I think an accurate reflection of the zeitgeist. It also defuses a major tension in this discussion between neoliberal arguments for culture as an economic driver and quality of life arguments as well as more esoteric rhetoric about art, life and meaning.
We can all agree that artists are being more entrepreneurial and this is a good thing.
For profit-conscious advocates, theatre artists are finally accepting their role in a market-based economy. Meanwhile those of us that are skeptical of restricting art to what is profitable (or profitable for real estate) can understand the entrepreneurial shift as a way to throw off some of the chains that have kept cultural production in the hands of a well-insulated elite.
Owning the means of production in theatre is an extremely difficult proposition however. Mirvish-fare aside – theatre in Toronto can’t pay its costs through earned revenue. Even a (very rare) sold out box office doesn’t usually generate a living wage for the artists involved, without other contributions through grants or donations. In fact, a question being asked right now is, “Can we all just admit there is no such thing as nonprofit sustainability?”
So there is a certain amount of ‘green-lighting’ that has to happen by peers and/or those with money before you can mount work that achieves professional standards. So “owning” the means of production in this context is a tricky proposition – and the question of what is “professional” becomes even more muddied.
This is the situation we now find ourselves faced with adapting to at STAF. As an indie theatre artist running an organization dedicated to improving the capacity of independent theatre artists, it is my hope we can make this shift in a manner consistent with open source philosophies:
We hope to maintain a high degree of transparency, seek collaboration and feedback, and make the results of our work available to the community. The first step in this open source transformation is an Open Source Feedback session taking place at Theatre Centre on January 26 from 630 – 930PM, (which will likely continue more informally across the street at The Dog and Bear afterwards).
It will begin with what we know: Here’s our situation, here’s what we do and don’t plan so far. Then we will break into moderated groups that require brainstorming and discussion to generate new ideas and genuine feedback about what indie theatre artists need to succeed in 2015. A summary of these results will be available on our website shortly after the event which we will livetweet, and I’m hoping we hear ideas we haven’t even thought of yet.
This is not to say we don’t have some very specific notions about what we can do moving forwards. I’m excited to announce some of these plans in our initial presentation at the session. Yet there are some Big Ticket Items not yet resolved. These run the gamut from: “Should we provide co-working Hot Desks?” to “What should the new name of the organization be?”
97,100 cultural workers in TO = 7.2% of labour force. ON artists median income $23,200, 41% < workers in ON. http://t.co/7eTaR2C7MX #cdncult — Michael Wheeler (@michaelcwheeler) January 4, 2015
There is a big shift underway in how theatre is created. There is an even bigger shift needed in how it is produced and supported.
We exist as theatre creators at a moment where the infrastructure is adapting much slower than the art and artists are. Faced with the choice of lamenting a system resistant to change or inventing a new one, lets choose the latter. Looking forwards to beginning to take control of the means of cultural production in 2015.
If you are interested in coming to the open source feedback session –shoot us an email to info@theatreadmin.com or tweet @STAF_TO.
Green Room
When I left theatre school, I was one of the lucky ones (yes, lucky) that landed a job almost immediately.
You may remember me? I played guard #2 in Sarah Phillips’ adaptation of Antigone…
The production was full of theatre names like Michael Healey, Richard Greenblatt, Christine Brubaker, etc. and, despite my incredibly small part/talent/experience, they welcomed me into Canadian Theatre with open arms. They made me feel a part of It. And because I felt a part of It, I listened and I learned, I respected and I risked. It was the beginning of my life as a theatre maker. That feeling was further expanded by our rehearsal location. We spent long days in one of the rehearsal rooms upstairs at Tarragon breaking to the central green room when we were lunching, coffee-ing, or simply when we weren’t ‘on stage’. Which, for guard #2, was a lot. In that green room sat various and sundry theatre folk who were also working on assorted shows in the adjoining rehearsal halls doing what we did, hanging out. It was here that I met a handful of my theatre heroes, listened to stories, asked questions, and heard about their wins and losses in Canadian Theatre.
Green rooms have always held a certain fascination for me – so few theatres that I have worked in spend any resource making them comfortable, exciting, or inviting. Yet so many of us have spent countless hours staring at the same yellowing promotional posters, lining up at the microwave and furtively pouring coffee that we haven’t paid for (yet). The green room is the living room of Canadian Theatre. And also it’s kitchen. And, well, the dining room as well. It is where we live when we’re not ‘out there’. A private place for us to commune in repose. And it is a place where theatre makers can inspire and be inspired.
Fifteen years and umpteen green rooms later, I have found myself in Kingston, ON firmly clenching the bannerpole for professional artistry and for Canadian Theatre. There are only a few us ‘old’ pros here but the place is lousy with emergent talent. It brims with excitement, creativity, and promise.
When the City of Kingston announced that it would be turning a rambling waterfront heritage building into an arts cluster facility, I jumped at the chance for Canadian Theatre to play a role. Since then, it has taken five years and a significant investment from the City but they have finally achieved what they sought out to do: The Tett Centre for Creativity & Learning provides subsidized space to 8 anchor arts organizations of which my company, Theatre Kingston, is one. It also houses 8 studios for resident artists, a gallery space, workroom, a rehearsal hall and an event space. It is an incredible feat for a community of this size and a testament to the municipal government’s commitment to arts & culture.
When Theatre Kingston was allotted 1500 square feet to dream with, I immediately knew what we should do. It was time to put together my own space where I could give young artists what had been given to me at the Tarragon those many years ago. Opening officially this Spring, the TK space will house three individual offices for three companies (one of which is ours), a joint office with three desks that will be made available on short term leases for smaller companies that need a base of operations for a production, and The Lounge. The Lounge is really a reincarnated version of my experience at the Tarragon. It is intended as a geographical manifestation of the amorphous concept “Canadian Theatre community”. Or “It”. It is my gift to this region’s pulsating emergent theatre people – a place where they can create, coordinate, and communicate. Not to mention rub shoulders with the various professional theatre artists that we bring in from out of town. Y’know – the ones with the stories about their wins and losses?
Physically, the space will have several significant features: a 14-seat table for meetings and readings, a cork wall for audition/classes/production announcements, a bunch of couches/chairs for lounging, and a 2500-play ‘take one, leave one’ dramatic literature library for use by the community. Ideologically, it is an epicenter for mentorship and support to the next generation of theatre artists that will come out of this region. The Lounge will host readings, socials, outings, and masterclasses focusing on ‘Hometown Heroes’ like Randy Hughson, Sue Edworthy, Maev Beaty, Judith Thompson, Chilina Kennedy and many more that have come from Kingston and who will be invited home to share their experiences with the current crop of ‘recruits’. It will be a green room. But the coffee will be free.
An Adolescent Growth Spurt
The 2014 edition of the PuSh marked the 10th anniversary of the Festival. We’ve been growing steadily, but the past year has seen as much growth and change as ever in our history.
On December 15, 2014 we moved to a new facility located at 110-750 Hamilton St in the core of downtown Vancouver right beside the CBC. Within 100 metres of our office is the central branch of the Vancouver Public Library as well as two main civic venues, the Queen Elizabeth Theatre and The Playhouse.
The new space is a 8,477 square foot cultural arts hub that reflects a movement towards shared platforms that’s been happening in Vancouver in recent years, Progress Lab being the best known across the country as an example. In our case, we’re moving in with organizations from other disciplines.
The idea for a co-located facility had been in the works for years, but the process of moving into this particular space began in October 2013. Minna Schendlinger, PuSh’s first managing director was at the helm of the project in the beginning (and continues on now as facility manager) with Roxanne Duncan stepping in as our new managing director in the midst.
A photo posted by @j_rosario on
There are so many metaphors to explain the past year at PuSh and all this change. My favourite at the moment is the adolescent growth spurt. We’re like that nephew or niece you haven’t seen in a year who’s suddenly grown almost as tall as you. Our ankles are showing beneath our now too-short trousers, it’s happened so quickly there hasn’t been time to buy new ones. Not to worry though, we’ve got a brand new outfit right in time for the 2015 Festival.
About half of the facility is office space for each of the organizations along with shared meeting room and amenity spaces. The other half is dedicated to community use, housing two spaces bespoke to the specifications of multidisciplinary tenants, and will soon be available for rentals of many different uses: sprung floor and grand piano for rehearsals and practicing (Thanks Touchstone! Thanks Music on Main!), large wall-mounted television for screening videos (Thanks DOXA!), just to name a few.
I know that each organization has given great thought to the long-term impact of the new space, both individually and collectively. With the timing of PuSh right after the holidays it means that we hit the ground sprinting right out of the gate. Right now, I’m focused on the immediate and practical benefits of the space, which can only be fully appreciated if you had the opportunity to be in our former 850 square foot office space (which I fondly referred to as ‘the festival sweatshop’).
Here’s what a day in the curatorial department at PuSh looks like.
A photo posted by @j_rosario on
We can now do an open concept office the right way. There’s much debate about the effectiveness of open floor plans, try surveying the opinions of any baby boomer vs Gen Xer vs millennial working at the new Canada Council offices in Ottawa. PuSh’s artistic and executive director, Norman Armour, has been a staunch advocate of open floor plans for years – it fosters not just more openness and collaboration but porousness between departments, and now between organizations, which is reflected in the architectural design of the office spaces.
We each have our own bullpens; distinct, dedicated spaces with walls between but no doors separating. In the middle are shared meeting spaces with glass walls in order to preserve as much natural light as possible (we’ve basically retro-fit a 1970’s built space). The meeting rooms have been designed to accommodate quiet spaces for solo-working, one-on-one meetings, as well as staff meetings within and between our organizations. It’s plenty of space for the confluence of ideas and dialogue, as well as to get away when the hive-mind gets to be too much.
For PuSh as a Festival, we now have physical space, a home of our own, to invite more interaction with our audiences and guests during the Festival. It’s as simple as the ability to have a place where pass holders can meet with audience services staff in person, where visiting artists and presenters can be welcomed and pick up materials without being in the middle of a bullpen.
It’s been many years since I’ve had a downtown commute to work. One of those times is when I worked at an office at the Scotiabank Dance Centre, a 32,000 square a shared use facility for the dance community built in 2001. The impact of increased space and infrastructure to support artistic production (in this case, contemporary dance) has been immense, and I’m sure different and greater than what was envisioned at the outset. There is a thriving contemporary dance scene here and some of the most talked-about dance in the country is coming out of Vancouver.
Occupying physical space in a public and civic sense as well as making a home – placemaking, to be au courant – was part of making that happen. I could make the same parallel between Progress Lab’s history and impact, how the companies that make that scene are regarded nationally, and now their new collaborative venture.
From my view in the curatorial department, I’m looking forward to devising new ways for us to interact with our peers, audience and new neighbours. PuSh takes place in 20 days, but it takes at least that many months in the planning. There are so many conversations that I’d like to continue and people that I didn’t get a chance to meet. There are so many discussions that need to start before, happen more widely and continue after the Festival.
Moving some of our PuSh Assembly events and inviting folks to ‘our house’ will be a great test run to see how the space works. We’ll also be hosting an artist-in-residence during the festival for the second year, but this time with workspace at 750 Hamilton attached. Often, a festival’s engagement with an artist is limited to a specific presentation – the artist comes to town, performs and then leaves again. I’m excited to extend an invitation that allows for more interaction, not only with PuSh but also with the city itself and its artistic community.
If you’re in town, come by for a visit. PuSh has the pleasure of soft-opening the space during the upcoming Festival. Stay tuned for an official opening with our housemates later this Spring.
