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“Post” my ass

Turtle gals
The Only Good Indian… Turtle Gals Performance Ensemble, Michelle St. John, Jani Lauzon, Falen Johnson, Cheri Maracle. Photo: Tim Matheson

An artist whose work I admire tremendously recently said to me, “ Your history is in ruins, it’s a barrier to moving forward, leave it behind.”

I think my colleague fancies himself post-racial, post-cultural.  It’s not a new argument, it is in fact the one we as First Nations have been hearing for – well – centuries.   It is the White Paper of 1969, the Indian Act of 1876 and its hundred years of amendments, the Gradual Civilization Act of 1857. All these acts were intended to help the First Nations here in what we agree to call Canada leave our ruinous history behind. It would be impolite of me to mention that these acts largely contributed to the ruination in the first place.

After a couple of hundred years of failed experiments in erasure and assimilation, I would like to suggest to my colleague that it is just not going to happen, we are just not going to get over it. His post-racial, post-cultural stance is antithetical to an Indigenous worldview, which insists on connections, connections between where we come from, our ancestors, all our relations, and those who come after, our descendents, whether literal or metaphoric, blood or art.

In the spring, I participated in the Idle No More iteration of Praxis/Theatre Centre’s Civil Debates. I was lucky enough to sit in the circle with Anishinabe artist/curator Wanda Nanibush and Anishinabe scholar Hayden King.  The resolution that we were to address was “that the issues that created the Idle No More movement require extreme methods to achieve change”.  In true Anishinabe fashion, we suggested that we eschew the parliamentary model of confrontational debate and instead sit in circle with whoever showed up to discuss the issue. At one point, Hayden referred the “Indigneous moral compass” that is so different from the values held by “Canadians”. When asked to elaborate, he offered three main ways in which the value systems differed: Indigenous worldview values community over the individual; women as leaders; and humility.  By humility, he explained, he meant an understanding of one’s place in the world, in relation to everything, air and water and animals and other people.

I was gratified to hear Hayden list those values extempore, because they are values I hold, but sometimes, watching the events of the world, the events in this country, I think I must be crazy to hang on to those values, much less try to live them.  And yet I do, I do believe that this worldview is the way we are going to move forward here, in a good way.

Rita-magistrate
The Ecstasy of Rita Joe, National Arts Centre/Western Canada Theatre, Layne Coleman, Darcy Johnson, Lisa C Ravensberge. Photo: Barbara Zimonick

George Ryga was commissioned to write a play to celebrate Canada’s centennial in 1967.  The play he wrote was The Ecstasy of Rita Joe, which marks, arguably, the beginning of an indigenous (small “i”) Canadian theatre. The play he wrote was not a celebration of 100 years of nationhood, but a searing look at the relationship between the settlers and the First people, a hundred years on. Near the end of the play, the magistrate sentences Rita Joe to jail and dismisses her with “I worry for the child I once saw… I’ve already forgotten the woman!”  He speaks directly to her, and erases her in the same moment.

This is the problem with the post-racial, post-cultural impulse.  “Post” refers not to your culture and race and value system, but to mine. If I cannot become like you, then I am clinging to my ruinous history, and it is a barrier to me becoming like you.  And if I refuse to become like you, you can, like the magistrate, just erase me from your view.

But I am not unhopeful.  I feel a change a-coming. I think as more of us articulate the values of connection, of community, and of humility, we will start to see each other, and to see that we can belong to larger community, and that we have power. We have our bodies and our voices, we have our stories.  We tell those stories of how we got here, how we exist here together, on street corners and in theatres, online and in person, in small rooms and large.  My history is not just my history, it’s our history, yours and mine.  It informs who we are now, and how we go forward. All my relations.

Preternatural pronouncements from a European tour

I haven’t traveled much outside of North America, at least not since I was a teenager, when my father was posted abroad and we lived a gilded, expat business-class life. But in the last three months, we’ve taken the show Winner and Losers to seven countries in Europe.

One thing I’ve been struck by is my own desire to pronounce about other places. Three or four days in one city in a country of 5 or 10 million on continent of 750 million and suddenly I feel preternaturally qualified to tell everyone in Canada what it’s like in Iceland or Italy or Denmark. Of course, I’m too much of an intelligentsia chardonnay-sipper to say, “And the people – they’re just so nice!” but frankly it doesn’t feel that far off.  So with that in mind here’s a couple things I remember …

The economic collapse was real.

It’s been shocking to travel to Euro-places where the economy is so clearly fucked. And to realize how insulated we’ve been from the great recession and its five year fallout. How many times have I been reading the news and thought, ‘Come on, what economic collapse?’ Though it’s got its share of Filipino run, chi-chi Italian restaurants and 100-mile-diet cafes, Dublin’s homeless/transient/really-fucking-drunk population was a surprise.

For generations, Vancouver’s poverty and addiction has been quarantined in the Downtown East Side. Dublin’s was spread much wider. And it didn’t seem just like the really poor, either. Pretty much every single person we talked to has a cousin or sister or friend in their 20’s whose living in Vancouver or Sydney. Our petro-fuelled economy is putting them to work in the trades and looking after our children. Vancouver’s house prices are up 20% from their pre recession highs, which is why we’re losing young middle-class people in their 30’s who want to start families. Ireland (and Italy) are losing their young.

Marcus photoThe North is the North.

Iceland and Denmark – and even the Netherlands – felt a whole lot like being in Canada, minus the brown people. Something about cold climates and being from a place where the climate is, historically at least, a real threat; the constant presence of geography, in conversation and in people’s identity; an identification with the wild. Race, on the other hand, is a different story. Over and over again I’m reminded how, relative to Europe and with the exception of First Nations, Canada’s way ahead on race. Here’s a photo of a restaurant in downtown Rejkyavik. Feeling snacky? Head to the Dutch grocer store and purchase some Jew Cookies. How about the Negro Lips biscuit? You actually can’t get those anymore but our lovely host insisted that the name was a compliment – apparently it’s a pretty tasty cookie.

We’re Maybe Not as Feminist as We Like to Think.

Canadians pride ourselves on gender equality. But we’ve got nothing on Iceland. 40% of Icelandic members of parliament are women. It has the highest female labour-market participation rate in the OECD (82%), and the most comprehensive anti-violence laws as well. What was interesting to us was how, in normal relationships, we felt like we could tell. I’m going to get myself in trouble here, but … as an artist in Canada I work with a lot of powerful women of various ages. Almost all of them, to some extent or other, do what I sometimes describe as the female thing … the automatic body-language apology (smile and laugh a lot in moments of direct negotiation, shrugging, looking down or away). Our female Icelandic colleagues just didn’t, as much anyway, and it was interesting to become aware of the effect it had on me. I — shoot me now – treated them less gently, and talked to them more like I talk to my male colleagues. And I liked it. 

But we’re definitely more feminist than Italy, or: If I was Italian, I’m not sure actress would be my first career choice.

On my first day in Terni, Italy (industrial, steel town northwest of Rome, home of the Terni Festival), I got a ticket for a show that had me jump on the back of a motorcycle and listen to an iPod piece while riding through the gorgeous, pastoral Umbrian hills. After 45 minutes, the driver stopped at the intersection of an empty country road. He gestured to me to get off, pointed down the road, and took off. In an awesome theatre moment, I walked down the road alone, wedged between large fields of dying, black-headed sunflowers.

At the end of the road: a cliché-beautiful 20-something Italian woman with almond eyes and an ocean of curly black hair, in her bra and underwear, kneeling and staring at me through a full-length mirror. As I got close, she gestured for me to sit on an old, rickety chair. She slowly stood up and put on a bright summer dress. Then she filled a wash-basin with water, dipped a white cloth in it and gently, hyper-erotically (for me, anyway), washed my hands, face and the really tingly back part of my neck, maintaining full eye-contact the whole time. The encounter finished with her draping her hair back and forth slowly across my head and face, and then handing me a 1 inch sliver of mirror so I could watch her gaze at me as I walked back up the country road. A couple of minutes later, Dude with the motorcycle pulled up and I climbed back on the back of his motorcycle. The iPod narrator said, “I knew her for only a short time …” (of course!).

And in some fundamental way it was once again proven to me that what we think we see in others always seems to say less about them, and a lot more about us. 

#CdnCult Times; Volume 1, Edition 2

This week, contributors from Vancouver, Saskatoon and (nominally) Ottawa approach different questions with regards to a National Culture. These pieces are integrally related to last week’s edition, which explored the concepts that surround A National Theatre.

Our second edition asks questions about identity, history, culture and in some cases how theatre can work to alter and illuminate these relationships. As a unit, they reject the notion that we are post-anything, but that this need not be an impediment to understanding or illumination.

Michael Wheeler
Editor-in-Chief: #CdnCult Times

Geographic Correspondents: Is it possible to have a National Theatre?

This is where Amy is.

Matthew: That is how one builds a National theatre.

Laakkuluk: By appearing with little blip sounds?

Amy: “Is it possible to have a national theatre?” Big Question for a big country.

Laakkuluk: Do you two know each other?

Matthew: No.

Laakkuluk: I like the idea of us all coming from 3 very far apart points in Canada.

Amy: I looked you both up on the web. Do you feel isolated where you are, from other theatre companies?

Laakkuluk: Absolutely! It costs $2000 return to get here from Ottawa. $1500 return Iqaluit-Nuuk and only during the summer months. It’s so expensive to get other artists to and from Iqaluit, Ottawa, Montreal, Nuuk.

Amy: Yeah, same with trying to get off the island of Newfoundland.

Amy: Matthew, you are going on tour with your show now?

Matthew: Yes, just to Kitchener, ON. MT Space will host us Oct 24-26. A Halifax appearance has been rescheduled to 2014.

Amy: Laakkuluk. I saw you drumming. Do you tour?

Laakkuluk: I do tour. The show I’ve been working on and travelling with most lately is called Tulugak or Raven in English. We’ve done the show here in Iqaluit once, twice in Nuuk, did a residency at the Banff Centre and a run at the NAC this year. We have 20 artists from Greenland and Arctic Canada.

Amy: Big show. Wish you could bring it here.

Laakkuluk: We’re invited to perform in Norway next summer. Wish we could come too!!

Amy: Wow, Norway.

Laakkuluk: We’ve been invited by Riddu Riddu, an indigenous festival in northernmost Norway.

Amy: Did you apply to the Festival or did they scout you out?

Laakkuluk: They came to see us in Ottawa in May and again in Nuuk last month.

Amy: It is so expensive to move theatre, to get exposure in this country. That is my experience with RCA Theatre Company.

Laakkuluk: How many times a year do you both find yourselves travelling across Canada for theatre?

Matthew: I visit Vancouver about six times a year. I go to Mag North most years.

Amy: We can search the net to see who is doing what, but if we don’t have a point of reference… Matthew, do you find this keeps you connected?

Matthew: Yes -SKAM has been part of the Hive series. A great way to stay connected. The recent series with those peers was too prohibitive- travel wise.

This is where Matthew is

Laakkuluk: Matthew- you don’t live in Vancouver?

Matthew: Victoria. I live on Vancouver Island.

Laakkuluk: We’re all on islands.

Matthew: Takes four 1/2 hours by car and ferry to Vancouver. Plane is 25 mins

Amy: Expensive?

Matthew: $178 or so.

Laakkuluk: That’s ridiculously cheap.

Amy: To get a flight out of here it will be no less than $500 and that is a very good seat sale.

Laakkuluk: As a Canadian artist living on a coastal island, is it more important for your career to travel, or to incubate things at home?

Matthew: Right now I have seen enough and need some time at home with my practice. Incubate. However that is a cycle and once a few more have incubated, travel will become essential again.

Amy: Yes once incubated, the work needs an audience bigger than home. Inspiration at home then work, rehearse, play, then travel.

Matthew: That is part of the National Theatre question. Or should I say answer.

Laakkuluk: I find the cyclical thing very important.

Matthew: Yes. Hone your own work. Then share, then revisit what you are engaged in or what engages you.

Matthew: Any travel for you soon Amy?

Amy: Not nationally. I just wrote a play with my friend and we toured Newfoundland this summer. We want to take it to Canada next summer and Fall.

Matthew: Title?

Amy: “In Stitches with Berni and Amy”.

Matthew: I like the way you refer to Canada like you are not in it.

Amy: It is kind of a joke…..

Laakkuluk: I like it too! I think this is a part of our bigger question too – we need to share things regionally as well as nationally. Where is Canada?

Amy: That is a good question. We often get national news that refers to Halifax to Vancouver!

Matthew: Canada is the part in the middle.

Amy left the room.

Laakkuluk: Amy’s done with Canada being in the middle.

Matthew: Uh oh, Amy left the room, maybe she went to Canada…

Matthew: Having done the NAC scene festival, would you say that is doing a good job of building a National Theatre? Seems like it from here.

Laakkuluk: Yes – incredibly good. It brought together northern artists that don’t often see each other and also exposed our work to a large Canadian audience.

Matthew: Would building the Nunavut Performing Arts Centre help build a National Theatre, and help bring Northern artists together more often?

Laakkuluk: Yes to both those questions!

Matthew: Which one is more important right now?

Laakkuluk: Bringing northern artists together more often. As northerners we have the opportunity to travel and share quite a bit outside the territory. But we don’t have the facilities to incubate at home as much and professionally as you do. We create our work in living rooms and garages and perform on school gym stages.

Matthew: Do northern artists have better access to travel support to get out of the north than move around the north?

Laakkuluk: Yes. Though recently, small community festivals have been getting more support to bring artists here.

This is where Laakkuluk is.
This is where Laakkuluk is.

Matthew: The BC arts council doesn’t support touring within the province.

[To be clearer- The council does not have a program that BC Artists can apply to when touring in BC. The rationale is that they support presenters through the BC Touring Council. The main complaint from SKAM is we are trying to go where there are no traditional presenters. MP]

Laakkuluk: What’s the rationale?

Matthew: Not sure. There is talk of reviewing that.

Laakkuluk: But they do support travel out of the province?

Matthew: Yes.

Laakkuluk: When was your NAC Scene Festival?

Matthew: 2009.

Laakkuluk: Amy says in an email that she can’t get back in.

Matthew: Tell her this is not a metaphor for National Theatre.

Laakkuluk: National Theatre is NOT about exclusivity.

Matthew: No.

Laakkuluk: Did you find that your career and theatre environment changed after the BC Scene festival?

Matthew: Not directly. I noticed companies who appeared there did well. I suppose that benefits our company, but not directly. What about you?

Laakkuluk: Artists from Nunavut really benefitted in terms of exposure, support and self-confidence. I think we also succeeded in showing that Inuit culture is circumpolar and not just Canadian, aaaaand we have at least a couple babies out of the festival!

Matthew: Ha ha, nice

Matthew: How you define circumpolar in terms of culture?

Laakkuluk: Our show had a big focus on how much Greenland and Nunavut have in common culturally despite colonial barriers and so half our cast was Greenlandic and a part of the NAC festival.

Matthew: Ah, neat. Cheaper technology means access to other media that leads to artists dabbling in other forms I think.

Laakkuluk: Technology sure brings this huge country together artistically and in many other mediums. Look at us chatting now!

Matthew: It’s great.

Laakkuluk: Esteemed company I’m in!

Matthew: Thank you

Laakkuluk: Thanks so much!

Matthew: Thanks Amy, wherever you are out East.

The anatomy of our post-corporeal performance experiment

Photo: Michael O’Brien

“Art must grow and flower in the land before the country will be a real home for its people.”

In 1920, at the birth of an art movement that would help to shape a nation, the Group of Seven included the above pronouncement in its manifesto created for their first major exhibition.

Their collective statement is both stirring and problematic. It stirs the heart because it suggests a collectivity that might be possible for Canada. It troubles the heart because history has shown that art had already flowered in the land thousands of years prior to the making of this statement.

Where are we now? How do we dream of a collectivity today? Where will we see ourselves reflected back at ourselves? How can we know one another in all the complexity that each of us brings to a life? And, yes, we must try to understand what we mean when we say us.

When we began this show the “we” meant the two of us. But that “we” has already grown, and “we” (now the more than two of us) hope that this trend will continue. Like the stirring and problematic statements of artists past, we hope that new statements as complex and idealistic can be made here, on the SpiderWebShow.

Is it possible we are beginning to exist in a post-geographic landscape? Even if this is only partially true, creates a lot of questions, and a search for some new governing principles. Dates are important. It’s possible the calendar is replacing landscapes as the chief signifier of our shared reality. So here are some dates that have definitely shaped the given circumstances of the SpiderWebShow:

  • December 21, 2012. Toronto. Café Novo: A first meeting to talk about dramaturgy as social action.

    Photo: Michael O’Brien
  • January 10, 2013. Ottawa. NAC: A first question: Can there be a national theatre in Canada?
  • January – June 2013. Canada: Skype and different cafés: We start to build a show to wrestle with The National Question. Call it the SpiderWebShow. We attempt to build a venue to put it on stage. We set deadlines for opening. We determine that we are not venue builders.
  • July 4, 2013. Balzac’s Toronto Reference Library Location: We meet with our newly-minted digital dramaturg. He will build the venue for our show.
  • July – October 2013. Canada and beyond: Google Hangouts and more cafés (often opening Balzac’s at several 7:30am “in-persons”): Content curated and contemplated. Many elements arranged and rearranged.
  • October 15, 2013 SpiderWebShow.ca opens.

So we live in time. And we imagine space? Even painters needed to imagine a grid to translate what they saw. Maybe now we are learning to apply 1s and 0s (Another way of expressing the grid) to our memory of space.

Theatre, we are told, lives in time and space. Is space, and how we feel about it, changing? How can we, as performance minds meeting at the crossroads of time (which appears to be speeding up but might also be slowing up), and space which seems to be simultaneously shrinking and expanding, respond?

By rooting ourselves in questions and creating a path to follow.

What does dramaturgy as social action mean?

For us it has come to mean creating a space where the possibility of a new kind of Epidaurus, or Circle or Square can exist. We see an ever widening web where performance energy and desire can be concentrated and spread, and where the work itself can grow stronger and more supportive from the breadth of connections made in this space..

How is The SpiderWebShow a show?

Like a show it changes because you are there. It is never ever the same. Like a play with a long run, its shape may be similar to the previous performance, but its essence cannot be repeated. It knows when you are in the audience and no matter how much you love the totality of a moment – you can never recapture it entirely. The SpiderWebShow changes content frequently and changes form with every click.

Photo: Michael O’Brien

This is the most flexible space either of us has ever worked in. Not only is it flexible it is also generative. This means there is flexibility within the spaces, but we can also build spaces to contain new needs of performance expression. The SpiderWebShow turns the axiom on its head and says: If you come we will build it.

What is a Digital Dramaturg?

Graham will be able to tell you more about that then we can. As novel as the title may sound, he has provided us with the tools to express what we previously could only make etchings and hand gestures about. His knowledge and skills, coupled with his sensitivity and interest in online communication, make him a dramaturg ideally suited to provide digital context for the work.

What up with #CdnCult Times?

We want to lead, follow and hold down an editorial place in a National Conversation About Performance in Canada. We hope it will be a place for connecting our editorial stance on issues and ideas of interest, and we want to link our content to all the other publishers expressing similar interests.

The #CdnCult Times is for and by people across this land and beyond geographic borders that contain the imaginary of Canada. If you have an interest in Canada, and performance connected to Canada, then the #CdnCult Times has an interest in you.

What is a Canadian National Theatre?

Can there be a National aesthetic, approach or voice in an art rooted in a multiplicity of identities? As a multicultural bilingual society that spans a continent, is it possible to maintain a collective connection to performance beyond the pastiche of Mounties and Beavers seen in Olympic Closing Ceremonies? What will we become and how can we express this conception “us” – together and separately?

What do we hope to accomplish?

We are in pursuit of the “we”. Our hope is that the SpiderWebShow and – in particular – #CdnCult Times will open up the conversation in such a way that you will be moved to collaborate in the shaping of this new approach to understanding (or creating a new) “us”.

Sarah and Michael

 

 

#CdnCult Times; Volume 1, Edition 1

Welcome to the inaugural edition of the #CdnCult Times.

Each Monday Tuesday, #CdnCult Times will publish a new set of posts about Canadian culture, theatre and the internet. Meanwhile, the tweet streams below will be constantly updated with the latest tweets tagged #cdncult and #cdntheatrethrowback.

In this week’s edition, we jump right into the core question that drove us to create this internetspace: Is it possible to have a National Theatre in Canada?

Through Sasha Kovac’s Theatre History class at Ryerson University, our Geographic Correspondents from West/North/East, and Sarah Garton Stanley and myself on how and why this space exists – we touch on the difficulties and possibilities of what a National Theatre means in a massive and diverse place during a digital age that changes the context and limitations of geography.

Michael Wheeler – Editor-in-Chief #CdnCult Times

#CdnTheatreThrowback: How 140 characters are helping 84 students (and a teacher too)

The tweet authors: Ryerson Theatre School’s THF403: Landmarks in Canadian Theatre students. Photo by course instructor Sasha Kovacs.
The tweet authors: Ryerson Theatre School’s THF403: Landmarks in Canadian Theatre students. Photo by course instructor Sasha Kovacs.

When Sarah Stanley asked me in August about having a class I teach at the Ryerson Theatre School guest-tweet for a feed about Canadian theatre history, I was shocked. People rarely, if ever, think of a history course as the first place to experiment with anything. I jumped at the opportunity, as I hoped it was a way to make the practice of history making come to life for the students. Because let’s get real- it’s usually pretty deadly. Henry Bial’s fabulous essay “Theatre Historian as Rock Star” does good to talk about the status of theatre history in the academy. Writing in 2007, he suggests:

History is over, rather, in the way that grunge rock, independent bookstores, and Late Night with David Letterman are. History is ‘so last century.’ Most of our students see neither the need for nor the appeal of history. They begrudgingly accept a semester or two as the cost of admission to more immediately amusing or lucrative pursuits. They regard the fact that we scholars continue to practice it anyway as a function of faith, inertia, and indescribable geekiness. You might have noticed that theatre, too, has this problem. Twice damned, then, the theatre historian: the most abject apostle of an already abject faith. (Bial 81)

My blood pressure got higher upon reading; I realized that I was actually thrice damned: I was to be the INSTRUCTOR of that “abject” pursuit- charged to teach this practice to acting and production students in a bachelor of FINE arts program that has a practical focus. How do you get these kinds of students to buy in?

Sarah’s invitation to guest tweet seemed the perfect opportunity to get the course alive again: to directly connect the work we were doing in class to the conversations taking place in the digital world quite active around us. I was also excited because I thought this tweeting idea might serve to clarify the course’s major and most sophisticated concept (one that I had struggled to make clear to students in years past): the relationship between theatrical creation and history making. Could a simple tweet let them comprehend the complex concept of historiography?

With this question in mind, an assignment structure became clear. Thanks to Sarah’s support and input, I developed what we now call the course’s “tweeter” assignment. Here’s how it works: each week in the course, ten students are required to find an important event in Canadian theatre history that occurred on any of the same Monday-Thursday dates of the class week. Drawing on that research, they develop a tweet. I edit and post what I think are the best tweets of the week. Generally, I was content just knowing that this project would have them searching through historical newspaper databases. From my perspective, if all else failed, that was enough of a reason for the assignment.

So, that’s why I said yes. But the concern became execution. What made this assignment most difficult to develop were my own confines: I’m that geeky theatre historian that Bial talks about! What did I know about tweeting? Not a whole lot. I freaked, and then, like a real nerd, sought comfort in a Canadian theatre history timeline: Ric Knowles’ “Just the High Points: A Canadian Theatre Chronology.” My first lecture traditionally talks about Ric’s first entry on his timeline (a description of “pre-contact” performance) in order to open up a broader discussion about the politics of “beginnings.” Knowles usefully describes one event in his first timeline entry as the “so-called” Kwakiutl Mystery Cycle. Through his use of a small phrase  (“so called”), Knowles opens up a whole conversation on HOW the history of pre-contact performance had been, to that date, described. It suddenly occurred to me Knowles was doing tweetable historiography!

So we used him to start. Have we reached Knowles’ level of concise and critical brevity in our own course tweets? No so far. But hey, at least we’ve been re-tweeted! TWICE! Overall, we are inspired by him to resist merely assembling of a number of FACTS about Canadian theatre history for #CdnTheatreThrowback. As I learn more about Twitter, I also realize that implicit in its very functionalities are lessons about history making. Where Knowles cannot live link to the other scholars who CALLED the Mystery Cycle just that, twitter allows for linking that can enable a viewer to encounter the source immediately. Students who have linked to articles show an observation of the discrepancy between sources—the ways in which one event, when told in a different light, can have a totally new meaning.

Twitter’s other useful functionality for the purposes of our course is mentioning. This ensures that we all try to maintain connections between the historical material we are tweeting about and current companies or individuals to whom those moments pertain. Finally, twitter’s enforced brevity teaches students about the barbarism of history. While selecting an event to tweet is difficult enough, by far the greatest limitation with twitter, especially for the academic context, is its demand for concision. Students grapple with containing so much analysis in a very small character count. That is where the understanding of the violence of creativity (and history as another creative practice) is, I think, best comprehended. We could teach Bogart in directing class, but I think it has a place in history class too.

Of course, we have only just started, and so I am excited to see what aspects of twitter’s functions we have not yet mined. Questions of accreditation still worry me. Though I am currently the de-facto editor of our tweets @THF403, overall I think it’s important for students to see themselves as authours of their contributions, to take ownership of how their ideas are received by an audience that is the twitter community. We’ve got a long way to go, but we’re excited about the journey. Many thanks to Sarah and Michael for getting us involved! We’ll see you at #CDNPerformPast soon, and in the meantime you can follow us @THF403.

Some Sources You Might Be Interested In:

Bial, Henry. “The Theatre Historian as Rock Star, or Six Axioms for a New

Theatre History Text.” Theatre Topics 17.1 (2007): 81-86. Project MUSE. Web. 8 Sep. 2013. <http://muse.jhu.edu/>.

Knowles, Ric. “Just the High Points? A Canadian Theatre Chronology.” In Theatre

Memoirs: On the Occasion of the Canadian Theatre Conference, 1998. Toronto: PUC, 1998. 74-89.