Page 54

Anglais ou French, on play nous two

By
Tar Sands Mining

As an Albertan in Montreal, I feel like everyone is mentally constructing a Stephen Harper mask to go over my own face. These are interactions I would never have with people from my oil-sucking homeland, and I love it. Through the French slang and “tabernacles”, I hear someone daring me to find common ground with them.

I love the thrill of my own identity being in motion. This kind of motion challenges my certainty of the world. This is the kind of feeling I want to bring to the theatre.

I thought being bilingual as a director at the National Theatre school would instantly open up new collaborative doors, but no matter how much people talk about French and English artists collaborating, it rarely occurs. I don’t think this is a problem of language, but rather a difference in artistic practice. We have different union rules, we are interested in different kinds of writing, but most of all, our theatre traditions come from different roots.

This difference in aesthetic has somehow kept a lot of English and French artists in Montreal (and in Canada) from working together, although there are some great examples of collaborative success: my favorite show of the year so far, Michael Mackenzie’s Instructions to Any Future Socialist Government Proposing to Abolish Christmas, put a seemingly realistic setting from a real-time unity play into the hands of metteur en scene Marc Beaupre’s incredible interpretation. Beaupre brought to Mackenzie’s script a sense of play, a setting and use of the theatre that turned the story into a game the audience was implicated in. Also on that list is Theatre Prospero’s inclusion of everything from Russian to German to British works, as well as Theatre La Licorne’s illumination of the palpable cross-over between Quebec’s working class history in Canada with Scotland’s relationship with England.


It’s this cultural cross-over that I’m digging into right now.

I’m a little scared to go down this side bar, but here goes:

I love games.

I love video games.

I was raised on them.

controllersThere are huge similarities to me between designing a game and writing and directing for the theatre: you put something personal onto the stage, you strive to have the audience (or the “player”) sympathize and understand their hero’s quest, and you build a world in which the player has room to learn and process on their own.

There is so much competition in the video game industry today that high-budget graphics alone don’t cut it: many companies have reverted back to the basics of what connects us to games, and in Video game design, rule number one is Give the player obstacles that force them to teach themselves how to play rather than shoving instructions down their throat.

Following the next Quebecois inside-joke my Francophone roommates say isn’t easy, but sitting down and playing an old school video game is, because it’s connecting us through our universal desire to play and literally solve the puzzles of our world.

ubisoftheadquarters
Ubisoft’s HQ in Montreal

I’m starting to scratch at something I want to uncover. I believe in a theatre where my English and French colleagues combine their artistic traditions to create a new aesthetic. I feel that this aesthetic will flourish out of the same values that connect my roommate and myself: a reduction of language, a return to the basics, and a commitment to connect with an audience on that basic level that new video games seem to have achieved.

I want to find anyone out there who is curious by the idea of French and English artists creating in the same room. None of this theoretical “wouldn’t it be great” talk.

This is something that is starting soon. If you’re out there, speak both languages, and are curious about what puts you out of your cultural comfort zone, and maybe even grew up being told that the concepts behind video games are irrelevant and childish, I invite you to get in touch, and start a conversation.

(jon.lachlan.stewart@hotmail.com). You can also reach me on Facebook, it’s Jon Lachlan Stewart. I’m serious here. Je t’invites.

Come out and play.

After all, the French call acting jeu.

How are immigrant artists included/excluded into Canadian theatre?

By

I noticed a lot of theatre schools attract international students and frequently there is a student in class who comes from abroad. I am a recent immigrant to Canada myself and I must admit I had a very hard time understanding Canadian theatre when I first arrived.

First, I simply tried going to theatres to see shows. Company names didn’t mean anything to me. Judging by the name of the company I couldn’t even tell the difference between a professional and a community group. I am sure there were good shows happening at that time – I was just not able to find them. I was desperately looking for some kind of a comprehensive guide through Canadian theatre and had no luck doing so. I tried reading about Canadian theatre on Wikipedia. It helped but it was written in terminology that simply didn’t exist in my world.

The theatre I was used to was heavily funded by the government. Every company owned a venue and had a group of actors employed for life, on paychecks with full benefits and a nice pension waiting when they retired.

I did not know anyone from the theatre community and when I tried writing a few emails for meetings most of my fellow artists did not even bother to reply. I literally didn’t know where to begin. At that point, I didn’t even know what questions to ask. Finally, I decided I should go back to school. It was not an easy decision. I was in my early 30’s, with more than 10 years of practice. I had already gone through the pain of Theatre school more than a decade ago and I was not sure if I was willing to do it again.

In my mini country of only 2 million people, we only have one theatre school. It produces 10 graduate actors per year, 2 – 3 directors and about 5 dramaturges. With 13 fully subsidized theatres in the country, a national film, television and radio industry as well as commercial voice work there is enough work for the actors. Even the actors who were not so good during their studies don’t wait tables. It basically means that if you pass the audition for the school, you are guaranteed to work for life.

11445570713_36a43ce413_b
Image by Jim Vance

So, this was how things worked in my head. I had no idea how many theatre schools or programs existed in Canada and I just googled national theatre school. I applied and got in. As I entered my new environment, I started discovering more and more differences between Canadian theatre and the theatre I knew from back home. One of the crucial differences was general theatre knowledge.

In my country, every kid in school reads the Greeks, Shakespeare, Moliere as well as basic philosophy and art history. Theatre artists are very familiar with the latest theatre practices and practitioners from around the globe. Theatre festivals constantly bring a lot of shows from all around the globe and the audience is used to watching shows in many different languages they don’t understand. Theatre has a language of its own and exceeds the barrier of language and culture. The term festival itself indicates a concentrated number of events where different companies present their work. Festival is not a producing company, rather a presentation of a wide range of theatre work pushing the boundaries of what’s new.

Here, in Canada, I was shocked to realize that cultural pluralism I see on the streets seems to be a minority in theatre. For about a year now, I have been meeting artists who came to Canada to study. Some already finished their studies and tried to pursue an artistic career. The stories they have shared with me were very alarming. It seems like they were mostly very well accepted as students but had tremendous problems trying to sustain themselves as artists. Here are some examples:

“My agent kept on sending me to audition for terrorist roles.”

“I was the best in class. Now, I can’t get a role in theatre because I have an accent.”

“No one needed a geeky looking Russian. I tried exercising but I just didn’t end up looking like one of that Russian mafia butch guys.”

“I try to pay my bills with running drama classes in my native language for my community. Luckily my wife is not a theatre artist.”

Yes, it is true that I and some of my friends and acquaintances have foreign accents but so do presenters at CBC. I want to hear stories with different accents and look at the stage that reflects the street.

#CdnCult Times; Volume 2, Edition 3

By

This week we hear from the next generation of Canadian (?) directors.

Each is emerging from some of the most competitive directing programs in the country. Each has been given relatively the same instructions: What are your hopes for the theatre and your own work ?

I am struck by the fact that  each finds hope or interest in non-English based theatre. Ted Witzel elaborates on his connection to German theatre, Jon Lachlan Stewart is an Albertan interested in bridging the divide between Anglophone and Francophone theatre, and Andreja Kovac as an immigrant from Slovenia considers the experience of other immigrants theatre-makers.

This to my mind is a welcome and healthy evolution to our craft. Many of our institutions have been based on English models. If we would like to progress from a provincial outpost to an international cultural centre, directors with a broad range of cultural influences is a great step in the that direction.

Michael Wheeler
Editor-in-Chief: #CdnCult Times

What stops you from fully expressing your opinions about the state of theatre in Canada?

By , and

8466085879_7a8bd0a4c0Matthew: Hello there

Amy: Hi Matthew. Happy New Year! Happy new chat!

Matthew: HNY

Laakkuluk entered the room.

Amy: Oh goodie, Laakkuluk!

Laakkuluk: WHOOOOA! I made it! Hello everyone!

Laakkuluk: Sorry about my Internet issues. Northwestel – the bane of our existence in Iqaluit these days

Matthew: Northwestel was just getting you ready to chat about barriers

Amy: Who wants to start?

Laakkuluk: it’s a difficult question!

Matthew: Depends on the situation. If one is talking generally then there are few barriers. Talking to an individual about their work requires some decency.

Amy: First of all, I cannot really comment on theatre in Canada because I see so very little of it.

Laakkuluk: I feel the same – I’m in a bubble of theatre here in Inuit lands

Don Wright – Red Trench Redux

Amy: I can comment on theatre in Newfoundland. I think for me when it comes right down to it, empathy. Because I feel empathy for artists and their work. If I do not particularly like something it does not mean it is not worthy. There is always a backstory behind art. I know it is meant to be interpreted, but my interpretation may not be at all what the artist was going for, or why he/she did the work. The photo I sent was of a very controversial sculpture that used to hang in our Government Bldg, but was taken down because of some people’s interpretation! I sent a link to a story about it as well.

[http://www.thetelegram.com/Blog-Article/b/22961/Red-Trench-Redux]

Matthew: I read the link- interesting story. Seems like a lot of people have expressed opinions about that work over the years. Somehow by being controversial, the piece made it easy for people to give opinions- especially poor opinions of the work and artist

Laakkuluk: Sometimes the common denominator in controversy is the ease in making derogatory remarks; look at any newspaper comment section.

Matthew: This subject made me think of the peer review process. That seems a place where opinions are expressed pretty freely and professionally. There are peers at the table, providing a professional atmosphere to the dialogue. The opinions are generally frank as there is a competition going on.

Amy: However, I have gotten results of reviews from our Arts council assessment jury and it has hurt my feelings. You cannot help but take it personally.

Matthew: Of course. And there is only dialogue amongst the advisory. The applicant does not get to dialogue with the assessors.

Laakkuluk: I do like the peer review process in academia – it’s been really helpful for me. Strangely enough that’s anonymous

Amy: It all comes down to opinion does it not?

Matthew: Yes, but to a degree subjectivity is kept to a minimum by the multiple peers on the advisory

Amy: One lives in hope! 🙂

Matthew: What stops me from expressing my opinions about the state of Canadian theatre is when I speak to an individual about their work, as was mentioned previously. If I know the artist I can express an opinion better. And if they seem receptive. The moment is important too; immediately following the show is not always best.

Laakkuluk: yes – after the show, everyone needs a period to float back down again

Amy: Good point. Time makes us all a little more objective.

Laakkuluk: Well – in some ways, my answer is really easy: our barrier here is that we don’t even have a theatre to comment on though there is a goodly amount of theatrical work.

Matthew: So when I ask you what do you think of the state of Canadian Theatre, your answer is no comment?

Laakkuluk: no

Matthew: OK, WDYTOTSOCT?

Laakkuluk: It would be that a major barrier to us having a vibrant theatre community to comment on is actually having physical space to make professional theatre

Matthew: I see that

Amy: Matthew, do you feel you know the state of theatre in Canada? Or have an opinion about?

Matthew: Well, as Laakkuluk’s answer indicates, we all give a regional or subjective opinion.

Laakkuluk: I think that one of the things that we’ve proved in our previous conversations is that we don’t know what Canada is, except that it’s the “middle bits”

Amy: The little middle bittles!

Laakkuluk: but that through our interconnectedness, we can cast a web of Canadaness

Matthew: From my perspective, I see a lot of stories and shows lately that are about the individual or from the individual perspective. So, for example- Winners and Losers and A Brimful of Asha. Both very different works, both from a supposedly very personal perspective. I saw a lot of work like that in the past year, so for me the state of CT right now is we’re all navel gazing a bit. That’s not meant to be a slight. It’s just what seems to be happening. And it is just my perspective.

Laakkuluk: that’s interesting. [That] follows the popular culture of individualism in Canada

Matthew: I know I am doing some of that with projects I am working on

Amy: how so, not knowing the shows I do not understand

Matthew: Well, instead of writing a well made play- three or five acts fiction, we’re writing and performing memoir or diary

Amy: Ah, interesting. Navel gazing!

Matthew: The work that seems to be succeeding at this is the highly personal universal tale.

Laakkuluk: It reminds of the struggle that some Inuit performers have with the concept of celebrity. Many Inuit performers work in a collaborative manner. For example throat singing is traditionally done in pairs and many people have made collaborative theatre projects – not one director, writer, actor but the Canadian media picks up on charismatic individuals to champion that work; sometimes for the right reasons, sometimes for the wrong reasons

Matthew: celebrity as a barrier

Laakkuluk: I suppose that means I’m saying that cultural differences in communication are a barrier

Matthew: ah

Amy: yes

Laakkuluk: and I suppose celebrity could be a barrier too, but I’m not sure of that

Amy: That is blowing my mind. I can not get my head around that . Celebrity comment.

Laakkuluk: also a lot of our young performers are eager to get celebrity status right now and it means that they don’t always get to hone their craft before they are out there

Amy: Ok, it’s clearer now. I see what you mean. Interesting. This community always found their legs in Theatre and then graduated, if you will, to film. But now, the young people seem to go right for film first! The thought is there is more $ in film. I believe.

Matthew: Now that we’ve had six chats together, perhaps we’ll be better at expressing our opinions of one another’s work when we finally have the chance to see each other’s work!

Laakkuluk: I can’t wait to see each other’s work. 🙂

 

Public peer feedback

By
Rifles NSTF, 2014 23
Beau Dixon performs sound design live on stage in Rifles.

Last week playwright Tara Beagan and I got into an intriguing conversation on Facebook with Obsidian Theatre Artistic Director Philip Akin about barriers to theatre artists talking to each other about their work. There are numerous pitfalls to this in terms of alienating one’s peers for a myriad of reasons, but we all agreed that we ought to be better at talking to eachother about our work than we were.

A few days later, Tara, who once wrote a whole play with Praxis, texted me with some questions after a performance of our latest work, Rifles. Would I be interested in the sort of public critique of my own plays that only days ago I had lauded as necessary? Could I find a third person who had seen the performance on the same occasion to participate, so it would be more of a discussion?

This seemed a good and fair question to ask and so I agreed and sought out Emma Mackenzie Hillier,  current Nightswimming Theatre Metcalf Foundation Dramaturgy Intern, who had also seen the show the same evening as Tara as well as the first version I directed as a Shaw Festival Director’s Project.

She agreed – and so we all gathered round our personal Facebook hearths, the evening after the play had closed, to have the discussion that follows below. I was going to edit it down, but I started to feel like what is awkward about this format was also interesting, so the conversation is preserved in whole:

    • Conversation started Monday
Michael Wheeler
  • Hey is this this just like gchat?
Emma Mackenzie Hillier
  • Oh! Hello!
Tara Beagan
  • seems like it’ll work
Michael Wheeler
  • well it is where it all started
Emma Mackenzie Hillier
  • Perfect setting.
Tara Beagan
  • true!
Emma Mackenzie Hillier
  • Tara! I had the pleasure of hearing you speak at the LMDA Conference this past year and was quite moved by your speech. It’s a pleasure to e-meet you here.
Tara Beagan
  • aw, thank you. very kind of you to say.
  • wheeler, can i tell you how nolan had us do our critiques at nepa, or should we just free for all?
Michael Wheeler

1/20, 6:21pm

  • Michael Wheeler
  • so yes, i think we’ve all agreed to be here and talk about Rifles in a critical but constructive way.
Tara Beagan
  • or maybe you have a plan… i’m bossy.
Michael Wheeler
  • i am a bit nervous bit also intrigued
Emma Mackenzie Hillier
  • ditto!
Michael Wheeler
  • i am much more into it now that it has closed.
Tara Beagan
  • it does make the gut jump a little. honesty. eep!
Michael Wheeler
  • “closed”
Emma Mackenzie Hillier
  • I’m interested by what we mean by “critiquing” – I think we view that word with a lot of negativity.
Tara Beagan
  • fair enough. though i wish we were dropping bravery bombs on each other DURING runs so we could make changes if we wanted to.
Emma Mackenzie Hillier
  • hahaha… unless it’s an Equity show, in which case the Director isn’t allowed to!
Tara Beagan
  • so right, emma.
  • we’re set up to settle.
Michael Wheeler
  • i like to work on a show past opening if cast is into it.
Emma Mackenzie Hillier
  • That would be nice. It would certainly open the channels for collaboration in a bigger way.
Tara Beagan
  • definitely.
Emma Mackenzie Hillier
  • So… how do we want to start?
Tara Beagan
  • my beloved friend pj prudat will haunt directors for notes all the live long run.
Michael Wheeler
  • But public acting notes-mid run would be weird. There are alot of trust issues between a director and actor that would come up.
Tara Beagan
  • yvette nolan had us circle up and talk around a few main points…
  • curation/context. the script. the design elements. the casting/the cast. the directing.
  • difficult to separate, but painfully fun to try.
Emma Mackenzie Hillier
  • Oh… that’s fantastic.
Michael Wheeler
  • yes please. curation context 1st?
  • lets do directing last
Emma Mackenzie Hillier
  • I think that’s a good place to start. Especially for me since I think that’s where most of my questions are.
Tara Beagan
  • curation/context is big and small: curation of the play by the producing companies, context in the theatrical ecology, context within an actor’s body of work, etc.
Emma Mackenzie Hillier
  • hahaha – I might have to jet by then… in which case it would be down to Tara to chat with you.
Tara Beagan
  • cool. emma, you spark us with a question!
Emma Mackenzie Hillier
  • awesome!
  • So, Michael, I’m curious about your choice to pick a play that is so political in its reference to economics in relation to war and why you feel that is an important play to put on our stages now?
Michael Wheeler
  • Well I guess the reason I picked it more than anything is that it is anomalous for Brecht in that it is not like the rest of Epic Theatre; He called it and Aristotelean Empathy drama. Buut even so – you can’t escape Marxist underpinnings and primacy of economics in that paradigm.
Tara Beagan
  • did praxis commission nicholas to do the adaptation?
Michael Wheeler
  • In terms of why *now* – hmm whether to fight or use non violence to achieve social justice seems an eternal question for humanity.
  • @Tara – i guess. Commission makes me think we paid up fornt- which we did not. He is one of the shares in the box office split from Next Stage.
Emma Mackenzie Hillier
  • Well… I don’t have a response to that answer, really.
Michael Wheeler

1/20, 6:34pm

  • Do you want to talk about what did an didn’t speak to you about these themes as we presented them?
Emma Mackenzie Hillier
  • I wish I had a great smart response but I don’t…
  • Sure.
Tara Beagan
  • so, what was it that brought the pairing to want to stage something that a known playwright wrote as a work of fiction rather than as theatre?
  • funny time lags make us all seem so awkward
Michael Wheeler
  • no brecht wrote it as theatre. nicolas worked from a literal translation which we DID commission. guess i should have clarified.
  • i am naturally awkward
Tara Beagan

1/20, 6:36pm

  • ooohhhhhh! okay.
Michael Wheeler
  • we still have 20 minutes we want to adapt from Orwell and include. it is non-fiction
Emma Mackenzie Hillier
  • What is it about the Orwell character that you think will enrich the current text?
Michael Wheeler
  • he is repped in the play you saw by British Soldier Eric Blair -Orwell’s actual name.
  • Played by Philip Graeme.
Emma Mackenzie Hillier
  • (he was lovely)
Michael Wheeler

Talk to me about what didn’t quite work for both of you

Tara Beagan

1/20, 6:39pm

  • Tara Beagan
  • is it fair to say that character as it stands was underdeveloped? due to time constraints and such? related: how did you find the time limit?
Michael Wheeler
  • it is quite fair. i think to say that
  • Tara Beagan
  • cool. cuz i didn’t understand why he existed.
Emma Mackenzie Hillier
  • I found that he opened up the world to me, a little.
Tara Beagan
  • intriguing. will you say more?
Michael Wheeler
  • Yes – well – in Brecht’s version he comes in ang goes out. he is onstage for maybe 2 minutes. in our version he is there for an hour
Emma Mackenzie Hillier
Emma Mackenzie Hillier

  • In total honesty, I’ve seen two productions of Rifles directed by Michael. The first didn’t have the Orwell character on stage for the whole show.
  • In this production I really appreciated his presence as it opened up the war to me as something bigger than the town.
  • As an outsider, a Brit, he doesn’t belong to Spain. And by being there, wounded, he was a constant reminder of the danger that we know is present… but moreso.
Tara Beagan
Tara Beagan

  • smart, emma. i see that.
  • i understand intellectually, but i guess i didn’t feel that. in the show. he felt very much like the others
Michael Wheeler
  • I appreciate this. and im sure Nicolas would too, as I think that would gel with his goals for the character – but I still would like him to be more cohesive.
Tara Beagan
  • honestly, though, i often have troubles following war stories.
Emma Mackenzie Hillier
Emma Mackenzie Hillier

  • Ditto.
  • Which was something else I appreciated in this adaptation of the play.
Michael Wheeler
  • Because Brecht described this as Aristotelean I have been brushing up on what that means in terms of drama – a biggie is that there are no extraneous elements. Cohesive.
Emma Mackenzie Hillier
  • The first round, as Michael pointed out to me a few days ago, at Shaw had a lot of different Generals who were oppressing (read: mass murdering) the people of Spain. This edition had only one which simplified things considerably.
Michael Wheeler
  • Im not sure that the Orwell element we have inserted is cohesive yet – but that’s why we’re planning another workshop.
Tara Beagan
  • i did like seeing mostly The People, for sure.
Michael Wheeler
  • huh. can you expand on that?
Tara Beagan
  • wheeler, i have a question that andy wondered. can i chuck it in the ring?
Michael Wheeler
Tara Beagan
  • Tara Beagan
  • yes – The People.
  • it was in a home, with a woman and her son and her bro. the soldier-type had little to no voice. i know pedro is fighting, but he felt of the grassroots.
  • priests always creep me out, so i wouldn’t call him one of The People. i can imagine seeing generals would be weird in this intimate setting.
  • andy moro wondered this – for a fella so moved and interested in Idle No More, why did you go as far away from home as old conflicts in spain?
Michael Wheeler
  • well. its a good point that we need not look to europe or WWII to find examples of genocide or Fascism
Tara Beagan
Tara Beagan

  • and of course we all know that in specificity we find universalities.
  • i think this brings my mind to casting. may we?
Michael Wheeler
  • yeah. i have some things on this.
Tara Beagan
Tara Beagan

  • my biggest thing is that i didn’t believe any of those people were poor.
  • (sorry if that stung.)
Michael Wheeler
  • no that is interesting. does not sting. continue.
Emma Mackenzie Hillier
  • Oh that’s interesting. Yep. I wanna know more too
Tara Beagan
  • i actually realized it just now. people who don ‘t have a lot of money never call themselves poor.
Michael Wheeler
  • Ah!
Emma Mackenzie Hillier
  • Not to simply disagree with you, but I think I disagree with you Tara.
Tara Beagan
  • oh, exciting!
Emma Mackenzie Hillier
  • Perhaps it depends on the level of poor you’re talking about.
Michael Wheeler
  • Really? I think I agree with Tara.
Emma Mackenzie Hillier
Emma Mackenzie Hillier

  • But, and this is all drawn from experience… so not specific research, but I think people who are on the bottom of the socio-economic pile do say it.
  • Maybe not as much, or as often, as Theresa.
Michael Wheeler
  • When Brecht has his character’s say “We’re Poor” – i hear the propagandist for a moment and we leave psychological realism.
Emma Mackenzie Hillier
Emma Mackenzie Hillier

  • Right!
  • Which I think is where a lot of my difficulties with the play come from.
Tara Beagan
Tara Beagan

  • in my experience, there is an understanding of “they are rich” but walking in the truth of “we are poor” is not a thing.
  • good point, wheeler. we hear artist privilege.
Michael Wheeler
  • yeah – getting by, maybe down on luck.
Emma Mackenzie Hillier
  • Whenever the line “we’re poor” came to the surface, I disconnected from the argument. Except for its first use, every time those words were used after I was taken out of the very “realist” (with a musician on stage) world that I was watching. I felt as though the propaganda was getting in the way of the story being told.
Emma Mackenzie Hillier
Emma Mackenzie Hillier

  • As an audience member, if you show me propaganda I turn off. If you show me heart break and loss I turn … on?
  • @Tara, that’s a fair point and I think I understand better where you’re coming from.
Tara Beagan
  • me, too, emma. i need to love someone on that stage. or something.
Emma Mackenzie Hillier
Emma Mackenzie Hillier

  • hahaha… maybe just a little bit?
  • I loved Theresa… I had a lot of compassion for her. She’s a very strong, beautiful, and stoic character. But whenever “I’m poor” was a response, the stoicism left for at least a fleeting moment.
Tara Beagan
  • did brecht always do the brechtian thing of pointing out that the play is a play?
Michael Wheeler
Michael Wheeler

  • so brecht actually wrote this as propaganda so that brits would put it on to pressure england to interfere in the war.
  •  its always propaganda – even when it’s realism.
Tara Beagan
  • bless his little red boots.
Emma Mackenzie Hillier
  • Yeah… that sounds pretty Brechtian.
Tara Beagan
  • was there anyone in the cast with mediterranean roots?
Michael Wheeler
Michael Wheeler

  • he almost always did the pointing out thing – except it would be possible to do this one without that if you for give the speeches on class consciousness and the role of the poor/proletariat.
Tara Beagan
  • (sorry i’m not going to bother seeking out the proper spelling of mediterra etc.)
Michael Wheeler
  • @Tara – no there was not – but this was not for want of trying.
Tara Beagan
  • it felt WASP-y to me. straight up. very talented actors, but quite WASP-y.
Michael Wheeler
  • I have a whole other blog post about diverse casting, and indie theatre, because it has some unique challenges.
Emma Mackenzie Hillier
Emma Mackenzie Hillier

  • I think… actually… if I do have a critique it was about the amount of blonde hair and blue eyes on that sage.
  • *stage
  • It does! And I look forward to the post.
Michael Wheeler
  • i think you may be biased buy the super-waspy image aislinn and i make on your program cause of how fringe did the marketing.
Emma Mackenzie Hillier
Emma Mackenzie Hillier

  • I was curious about that choice as well, actually.
  • I take it they were focusing more on the creators of the piece?
Tara Beagan
  • i wanted more blood in the mouth and fire in the bellies. antonio banderas would look great in a long black frock. all of the frocks.
Michael Wheeler
Michael Wheeler

  • WE DID NOT CHOOSE OUR PICTURE TO BE THERE!
  • ON PROGRAM
Tara Beagan
  • i loved that it was you & aislinn. you are undercelebrated, both.
Michael Wheeler
Michael Wheeler

  • (sorry just wanted to clarify)
  • i did not enjoy that.
  • im supposed to be a ninja
Emma Mackenzie Hillier
Emma Mackenzie Hillier

  • … I think you’re too tall to be a ninja.
  • how’s that for a critique?
Tara Beagan
  • don’t lie, wheeler. actor.
Michael Wheeler
  • only when you write them.
Tara Beagan
Tara Beagan

  • ha.
  • okay, why so much stuff to the set?
Michael Wheeler
Michael Wheeler

  • Its not that much stuff, it is just visually busy.
  • ie the major furniture but then like 26 crates
Emma Mackenzie Hillier
  • And centre stage sits Beau.
Tara Beagan
Tara Beagan

  • it felt like lots of stuff that didn’t serve the telling. partly because that woman’s home is no doubt spotless and fit as a ship.
  • beau was awesome. made me want to spend a whole day talking into a bucket.
Emma Mackenzie Hillier
  • I think a critique should always include positive elements and I wanted to mention that I really enjoyed and appreciated the sound design / soundscape (sorry, this is off topic)
Tara Beagan
  • yes, we bought into his presence immediately. and it was impressive how you guys disembodied franco, but beau was RIGHT THERE.
Emma Mackenzie Hillier
Emma Mackenzie Hillier

  • YES!
  • I’m really sorry to have to do this, but I have to dash. I have a production meeting I need to get too
Tara Beagan
  • nice to meet you!
Emma Mackenzie Hillier
Emma Mackenzie Hillier

  • ditto!
  • Michael, thank you for asking me to take part!
Michael Wheeler
  • hmm. i know what you mean about it should be clean. a big design challenge is how do you reasonably hide 5 realistic rifles in a festival setting. we had to create something big for them to be reasonably camouflaged by. in a diff version would love to put them under floorboards. then lots could change.
Michael Wheeler
  • ok this was great guys. can we call it a successful 1 hr online critique?
Tara Beagan
  • i’d love to see them in plain view. the whole time. hanging, like the crucifix.
Michael Wheeler
Michael Wheeler

  • huh. that very brechtian….
  • I will send you guys my edits to the convo.
Tara Beagan
  • yep. if you’re saturated, as you have every right the day after “closing”, we should sign off as well.
Emma Mackenzie Hillier
  • I look forward to reading your article!
Tara Beagan
  • i don’t mean to be entirely negative. i’m only saying because i feel there is a lot to make much muchier.
Michael Wheeler

Self-determination after theatre school

By
toolsofthetrade
Post-graduate tools of the trade: Headshot, resume, rep book, grant forms, business cards. Not pictured: wine.

I thought I was pretty prepared for life after theatre school.  I had no illusions about booking fancy Equity gigs my first summer out, or landing a sweet film agent and getting shipped off to play a vampire in some TV show.  My expectations for artistic employment were low.  I was not wrong.  But what I didn’t expect was the crushing weight of autonomy.  Self-determination, not unemployment, became the enemy.

This isn’t about “emerging artists” not getting work.  I think we all talk about that a lot – I think I’ve been to approximately six thousand panels and seminars and desperate shop talk sessions over a pitcher of beer mulling over the facts: work is scarce for emerging artists, auditions are hard to get for non-Equity actors, and it feels like the same people get work over and over again.  They’re tough, ugly facts, and the bitterness and discouragement experienced by young actors is real.  In the few years I’ve been out of school, I’ve spent a bit of time working, and a lot of time not working.  My biggest fear now is not a lack of work – it’s of losing the ability to create meaningful and rigorous art; It’s of having my creative impulse atrophied or distorted by the realities of pursing a professional career.

A blog post by Holger Syme titled “Canadian Theatre has a Youth Problem”  recently made the rounds on Facebook.  It was reposted by a dozen or so friends (all emerging actors), all with comments along the lines of “YEP.”  Syme makes some compelling comparisons between casting practices in the UK and Canada, using Romeo and Juliet as a case study.  According to Syme, in Canada “no actors get cast in any roles of any substance before their mid-twenties. And virtually nobody gets to play marquee roles before their late thirties.” He references multiple examples of British stage actors given a shot at playing the Bard’s juiciest roles while they were still the character’s intended age (I’ll admit to whimpering a bit at this section – Juliet at the RSC by 23?  It’s already too late for me.)

He goes on to argue how this casting practice contributes to a healthier overall ecology by giving young actors a chance to develop their craft in the presence of established professionals.  Syme argues that in Canada “younger actors are taught over and again to play minor roles, to integrate themselves into the company, to make safe and conformist choices, to produce something already established and recognized as quality work rather than to develop and reimagine their craft in new and unexpected ways.”

I greatly enjoyed Syme’s essay – and the fiery debate sparked in the comments section – and it got me started along a slightly different train of thought about the difference between career and craft.  When my peers and I graduated from theatre school we did everything that was in our power to start our careers; we got the fancy headshots, submitted to anyone with a mailbox or email address, hustled as hard as we could.  The first cycle out of school was brutal: Land a big audition after much postage and many emails; Invest (both emotionally and financially) in audition preparation; make bizarre and contrived wardrobe choices on the day; Try to wallow in only the most constructive self-loathing and despair after rejection.  A year passes.  Repeat.  It dawned on me one day in a chilling moment immediately after opening my mouth in an audition: I don’t know how to do this any more.

stationaryrehearsal
My theatre company Delinquent Theatre in our rehearsal space that was often sticky and always smelled strongly of stale beer (but we loved it anyway).

Which brings me to the question Syme’s essay brought up for me: How can a theatre artist protect and develop their craft while early-career?  I’ve realized that often the pressures of seeking work can sometimes place your artistic practice only in the context of an audition room, which is destructive on a variety of levels.  Essentially we’ve moved from qualitative evaluation in the classrooms and rehearsal halls of our training institutions to the rather stark quantitative evaluation of professional theatre: you got the job, or you did not.  But try as I might to remind myself that this is in fact not an evaluation of my work at all, but the outcome of a variety of factors (we’ve all listed them to ourselves, haven’t we?) it is, for me at least, impossible not to view my work in that context.

I didn’t realize the extent to which the logistics of pursuing a professional career could change my relationship to my artistic process.  I didn’t think that such long gaps between projects could erode my creative courage, but at times I have felt that start to happen.  The time for bold experimentation, for freedom and the possibility of failure is probably not in the audition room.  Bold choices and risks?  Sure.  But those can only be supported by a healthy and regular practice.

And here’s where that self-determination thing comes in – it’s up to us to find the space for those practices.  Space that exists outside the realm of auditions, away from the view of directors or ADs, or what have you.  Space that connects you to your practice in a way that reminds you why you’re so hellbent on working in this Godforsaken industry.  Working hard is not the problem – we all do that.  It’s finding a way to work gently.

One of my favorite twitter accounts, @ProResting (which calls out some of the worst casting breakdowns known to man) refers to ‘unemployed’ actors as ‘resting’.  I like that.  To me, it implies an artist ready to spring into action and response.  To me, I like the idea of taking a rest from my hopes and anxieties about career, and refocus on craft.  This might look like taking classes, watching shows with anticipation instead of analysis, or reading a play out loud with friends.  It means breathing instead of holding my breath for the next E-Drive.  And it means allowing myself this notion: if I take this time to reconnect with my practice, the next time I step into an audition notice, I’ll be ready to deliver work worthy of the stage.  If I don’t get it?  I know a worthwhile place to rest til the next one.

#CdnCult Times; Volume 2, Edition 2

By

This volume is all about barriers in the/to the theatre.

Barriers to speaking about the state theatre in Canada, barriers to talking about our own work with each other, barriers to early career artists practicing their craft.

Our Geographic Correspondents look at this issue from 3 disparate corners of the country. I decide to get my own feedback on the play I just closed, publicly, from a playwright and a dramaturg I have worked with before. In Vancouver, Christine Quintana raises an even bigger question than how do emerging artists get work: How to overcome the barriers that prevent you from being good at theatre?

Collectively these pieces represent a smattering of barriers, broadly speaking, to theatrical communication. I am fond of this volume as each article hopefully breaks these barriers down a little bit.

Michael Wheeler
Editor-in-Chief: #CdnCult Times

Do you remember the first time you encountered the internet?

By
Vancouver

I was in first year university when I finally got access to the world wide web, where there was something for everyone. Faced with the vastness of “anything”, I could only think of one thing to search for, and I ended up with a recipe for pesto shrimp with bow-tie pasta. I still have it around here, somewhere. But I never bothered making it.

It’s telling that when grappling with the amorphously huge web of knowledge that the internet is, my impulse was to focus on something very familiar, very universal, very physical. Even now, users access the internet for all sorts of reasons, but it is a deeply human impulse that seems to drive many of us to our screens. Social networks like Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram are about making connections, about bridging distance and difference with a cute cat video, or a pithy statement, or a picture of what I had for lunch. How deep and meaningful those connections are is arguable and variable. I can’t imagine raising my son so far from his grandparents without access to video-chat.

Internet connectivity and the near ubiquity of connection devices for the creative-middle-class (and that’s a whole other blog post) have changed the kind of work I do, who I’m working with, and how I’m doing that work. Yet, at the core, my work is still driven by a very human desire to connect people with people, and to navigate distance and difference. These are very Neworld ideas to me. As is the notion of using popular forms to engage with challenging ideas and subject matter. And the internet is nothing if not popular.

This line of thinking is what draws Neworld to the SpiderWebShow as a place to engage with these ideas and see how they can relate – and possibly change – the way theatre is practiced.

Is a digital theatre possible? I’m betting “yes”. But I’m also willing to bet that it’s not going to look like what we think it’s going to look like. If theatre is partly defined as a place where groups gather together to witness a shared event, I ask: must that gathering always be of physical bodies? Do our “selves” not extend beyond those bodies, through our senses, our minds, our imaginations. Our fingers may be busy scrolling, but our minds are flying around the world at the speed of data. If this is true, it follows that a gathering can be of our consciousnesses. And given the asynchronous nature of time on the internet, we may not all have to be there at the same moment!

Exploring these ideas through discussion and experimentation are, to me, critical at a time when so many of us move seamlessly between the physical and digital worlds many times every day.

“But what does the internet have to do with us? We work in real time and real space!”

Yes, we do. But to me, that’s like Canada Post saying, “why worry, people will always have to mail letters.”

“But it’s experimental!”

YES, and that’s the beauty of the space that the SpiderWebShow provides. It allows for wild imagining, bold choices, and failure. It lets us apply all we know of storytelling and devising site-responsive works to a place that is only defined by our ability to develop code and the speed of our servers. The imagination truly can reign supreme.

And in the same way that IRL[1] theatre tools are applied to the virtual space, perhaps here we shall invent new tools that will loop back into the theatres of body and breath.

Theatre is a marginal art-form. It does not exist in the mainstream experience of most Canadians. In order to bridge this gap, we – as a community of makers and supporters – need to examine how our work relates to how people live. I’m thinking of this in a very sociological kind of way. A hundred years from now, would a researcher looking at the relationship of theatre to social and political movements of the early 21st century be able to write a paragraph, a chapter, or a book? The SpiderWebShow, and the #CdnCult Times in particular, are creating an archive of our times. But the project is also asking us as practitioners, to think of our work in the context – and even as a product of – trends in a rapidly paced and highly mediated society.

Finally, I’m very excited about the SpiderWebShow as a space for artists. When Camyar Chai founded Neworld with Tom Scholte and Mara Coward in 1994, he envisioned the company as an artistic home; a space where creators could feel comfortable and free to take the risk of engaging with content or forms without exactly knowing how it would work itself out on the stage. We are pleased to join the National Arts Centre and Praxis Theatre – two companies whose work we admire and are engaged by – in grappling with these, and other, questions.

[1] “In Real Life”

The Coming Out Episode

By
Ottawa

Welcome to Volume 2: the coming out episode.

I am fairly certain that Volume 2 is a mostly meaningless appellation as there was no Volume 1 when we started SpiderWebShow. But here we are, at the dawn of a new volume and so we called it Volume 2: the coming out show. Actually “The Coming Out Episode” part is my addition to the edition. More on that soon.

There are a bunch of changes to make the new volume meaningful.

Like Neworld Theatre has come onboard as producer for the show. Like Adrienne Wong is heading up research for the Experiments, and she has joined SpiderWebShow as Artistic Associate. Like we are launching the Thought Residencies. Like we are looking forward to University Ottawa giving us some #CDNtheatrethrowback and, like, a whole lot more.

10 brand new editions of Volume 2: the coming out episode are getting ready to reveal themselves between now and March 21, 2014. Basically, a lot of new. In case you were worried, there is just as much – if not more – that is coming back from Volume 1. Phew!

But because we trade in story, I think I am going to tell you one here.

This is the Story of the birthing of a Second Volume of The SpiderWebShow: the coming out episode. Within the story, I have placed a paradox because most good stories hold conflict or, at the very least, obstacle.

The Story of a Second Volume of The SpiderWebShow begins with a desire to connect in greater number and in more substantial ways with Performance Minds in Canada. We want to make things more visible and celebrate more fully the potential that SpiderWebShow has, for being the place where theatre can find its home online. This is something we want to do.

To this end, Volume 2: the coming out episode, arrives at your digital doorstep with change; since you last saw it, the episode has done some growing up and is negotiating a few more followers than it had way back at the dawn of Volume 1. It also comes with an unmasking: hence my subtitle.

The SpiderWebShow is a shared initiative between NAC English Theatre, Praxis Theatre and Neworld Theatre. Most people like getting their name out there, but this Artistic Director (newly minted) of The SpiderWebShow has reservations about you all knowing that NAC is involved in this venture. Praxis Theatre? Sure! Neworld Theatre? Absolutely! NAC? I worried! I worried that you would not be as interested. That you might think we wanted something from you. That you would not accept our voice as readily as you might accept the voice of others. I am forever trying to come to terms with the tall poppy paradox.

The tall poppy story, like so much of the inception for The SpiderWebShow, began in a non-verbal space. Apparently it is the story of a lesson taught without words or specific commands. There are two characters in this story. Person A and Person B.

Person A gets invited to go for a walk in a field with Person B, a person for whom Person B holds great respect. While in the field, Person A starts casually lopping the tops of the highest wheat, or poppy, or corn, while Person B awaits the words of wisdom they anticipated receiving from this specific invitation. Person A, however, never speaks and Person B is left to conclude that the most eminent people must be cut down. Person B leaves the field and sets out on an adventure of terror and destruction, all in the name of social control and equality for all.

The genealogy of the story traces back to Herodotus – was picked up by Aristotle – and has kept repeating through the centuries ever since.

I expect people who unquestioningly subscribe to this story also follow the belief that leading by example is the golden rule and that following without examination is its obvious corollary. In keeping with the coming out episode subtitle, I must confess that I am constantly coming up against my own apathetic will to simply believe, rather than question. I mean, really, who has the time?

The tall poppy story has plagued me my entire career. Wanting to reveal, while all the while being terrified that the revelation will be deemed incorrect. Knowing that this very thought is unproductive, but nervous that to believe this will place a limit on my sense of security. I am pretty sure I am not alone here. It is incredible how certain things stick.

So, Volume 2; the coming out episode, comes with a challenge.

I want to know more about what holds us back as artists in today’s clime. What are the barriers that mitigate our capacity as artists to report exactly what we see? What stops us from seeing? How can we see better? And how, can we support one another when we see it?  Volume 2: the coming out episode is about taking on the tall poppy paradox.

It’s about being dazzled (because we must be dazzled), it’s about being humble (because we must be humble), and finally it’s about our shared mission: The SpiderWebShow is a theatrical space where Canada, the Internet and performance minds intersect .Volume 2: the coming out episode aims to peel off a layer, get stronger (the web must support), get taller (because if we are looking at the sun we are going to grow) become more adventuresome (traditions are good until they aren’t) and be true.

The SpiderWebShow Volume 2: the coming out episode, is produced by Neworld Theatre in association with Praxis Theatre and English Theatre at the NAC. Welcome to The SpiderWebShow. Hit it Diana!

Online Evolution

By
Toronto

SpiderWebShow seems to be an enormous opportunity for Praxis Theatre. Since first starting a blog at praxistheatre.com, over the past seven years we have used our online identity to complement and integrate with our theatre making.

This has taken a number of forms over the years: First as a blogspot blog with a focus on marketing led by then Praxis Marketing Director Ian Mackenzie. Then as a more politically-oriented space when I became editor and moved the site to WordPress. Later, when Aislinn Rose joined the company, for the past four and a half years it has become integrated with the work we create.

A funny thing has happened to the Praxis website, since becoming a company with resources that allows us to create more than one show a year. Our content about the ideas, concepts and people that make up the #theatrosphere has been superseded by information about ourselves. This is actually a big no-no in blogland. People return to these sites because they connect with other people and are not primarily (an overt) act of self-promotion.

There is nothing to be done about it though. After a decade of slowly building Praxis Theatre into a company that creates theatre in space we have put together a season of programming that has included a National Tour of an adaptation of a Facebook note about G20 Toronto, a World Premiere of a the latest play by Canada’s Governor General’s Award Winner for English Drama, Nicholas Billon and we are Guest-Curating a series of social media-integrated performance experiments at Harbourfront Centre.

In this new context we actually have no choice but to use our own website for information and ideas about all of these performances and events. This is not to say that we won’t have posts about topics other than ourselves there. We just can’t keep the same volume or quality of engagement with the #theatrosphere.

Which is where SpiderWebShow, and specifically #CdnCult Times, comes in. By establishing an online space that regularly, weekly in fact, generates discussions and ideas around performance, we hope to contribute to the same work we have been doing since  2006 in a different space. The nature of #CdnCult Times, which requires three related posts to be published on the same day will help us present multiple perspectives and entryways into a conversation.

The use of a hashtag, #CdnCult, has a specific intention that relates to how we (Sarah and I as co-creators of the show) perceive discussions evolving online. Where before a majority of conversations would take place in the comments of a blog post – these ideas have now become much less centralized. In particular they have moved to Facebook and Twitter. It is our hope that intelligent and relevant promotion of #cdncult, will provide a way to re-aggregate these conversations in a way that makes them accessible to anyone who is interested. The #CdnCult Times seeks to play a lead role in the promotion of this hashtag.

Finally, we also hope to engage with SpiderWebShow in a way that doesn’t just talk about the work, but also integrates with it. We have several ideas for projects that can find a home in The Experiments section of the site. Having access to a laboratory that is an established space for this will provide us with the platform to engage in a way that Praxis thinks is integral to our development as a company. Online tools have progressed in our work at Praxis, to no longer just be about conversations, but also to integrate with the work we put onstage.

To facilitate this evolution we have begun to consider ‘social design’ in the same way we think about other design elements. Like set design, costume design, lighting design, costume design and sound design – ‘social design’ considers what online tools would best cohesively complement a production. SpiderWebShow gives us a platform and toolbox to work with as we determine the social design for our new works.

In essence, we are very excited about the possibilities inherent in SpiderWebShow. It is collaborative, malleable and ready for new ideas – all of which makes it an ideal space for Praxis to improve and challenge the work we make.

1...535455...59Page 54 of 59
SpiderWebShow.ca is the first live-to-digital performance hybrid company in Canada. We are obsessed with cultural change.
© 2018 SpiderWebShow