By Col

Nest week, along with Aviva, Matt, and Hannah (aka the PBC Art Collective) I’m heading into the artist residency at The Mustard Seed where we’ll be creating a new version of Oedipus, titled “Oedipus Evolving”. Our take on this story is we’ll introduce the audience to Oedipus at the end of the story as we know it, he’s blind, he’s left behind his family and his riches, he’s homeless. During the show he’ll go back and tell the audience how he came to where he is by exploring important moments with people from his past.

This week Aviva and Hannah will be interviewing residents at The Seed who have applied to be a part of the show, we’ll be going through an orientation with some of our dedicated volunteers about what it’s like to work in a shelter, and I’ll keep plugging away at the script adaptation. It’s a great time for us. Interviewing the potential participants is fascinating. Think of what it would be like in a audition, or any job interview, where the primary concern is how dedicated you are to the project and how passionate you are about art. Awesome.

Also, starting with the rehearsals we’ll be featuring some guest bloggers from the Development Studies club at the University, who will be volunteering with us throughout rehearsals and the performance week. A pre-emtive thanks to them for their contributions.

I’ll end off with a re-post of a great blog from The Herald’s Stephen Hunt where he reviews and discuses the art cabaret Aviva and I were a part of during the OYR High Performance Rodeo last new year. Many of the homeless participants who performed that night will be involved with “Oedipus Evolving.”

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DISPATCH: THIS IS MY CITY SHOWCASE CABARET, By Halfstep

Wednesday, Jan 20, 2010

Downstairs at the Central Library, they held a showcase of a unique type Wednesday evening: all the talent, give or take Onalea Gilbertson, Col Cseke and host Aviva Zimmerman, were homeless.

There was the Mustard Seed Drama Club, in which a half dozen residents (Nigel Kirk, Hani Ali, Sherry Love, Wyatt Hesston, and Miroslav Ludva) dressed in masks and performed scenes together from a show they called Wolf Revisited, which included scenes written by Edward Albee, Christopher Durang and Woody Allen, among others.

There was the Found Sound Orchestra, in which the stage was filled with tin can drum kits and home made sitars and banjos. Col Cseke, their orchestra leader, played an instrument made out of bottle caps and duct tape. To tell you the truth, they sounded pretty much as if they found those sounds in a dumpster somewhere — although, thanks to Max Ciesielski’s keyboard, and everyone’s high spirits, it didn’t really matter. The fact that they created a tin can symphony was its own sort of triumph!

Col Cseke performed an excerpt from a one-man show written by Mustard Seed Drama Club member Nigel Kirk. It was about moving to a Boomtown, and trying to cope when the Boom leaves. It was funny, sharp writing about a guy trying to hitch a ride and sharing his story as he waits by the roadside — and when Cseke stopped after  seven or eight minutes, it felt as if it was too soon. I wanted to know more about what happened after the landscaping company layoff scenario.

I saw the Drop In Centre Singers (who double as the Found Sound Orchestra) — Max, Norm Saunders, Aubrey Miller, John Harris, Debbie Emmett, Shane, Scott Chunn, Jenn Carew, Robert Ramstead, Eveline Koljin, Tedoa Predika, Brad Hawkins and Cseke) Saturday night performing as part of Two Bit Oper Eh? Shun at Grace Presbyterian Church, but for the cabaret they shifted gears a little. Led by coordinator Onalea Gilbertson, they sang a few of the tunes they sing every Monday from 4:30 to 7:30pm on the 6th Floor of the Drop In Centre (singers and fans are welcome to drop by any Monday and join in): they sang a John Denver tune, Leaving on a Jet Plane (the audience ended up joining in); 500 Miles, Down By the Riverside, and Hank William’s I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry.

All in all, a triumphant cabaret, that was extremely well-received by the standing room only crowd at the library.

It was all part of This is My City, a year-long program run by the City of Calgary’s Arts and Culture Department (who knew?), to facilitate the engagement of homeless citizens in art making. The city hired a number of artistic mentors, such as Gilbertson, Cseke and Zimmerman, to work creating art that is being presented as part of this year’s High Performance Rodeo.

I know you can’t eat art, or sleep in art, or drive art, but watching events such as Two Bit Oper Eh? Shun and the Showcase Cabaret, it’s impossible not to believe that even if there’s no actual vitamins in art, there’s something about creating it that is nourishing for all the participants involved. Art making also involves a lot of self-exploration, self-discipline and gives life a structure that it sometimes lacks — qualities that everyone could benefit from. And some of the art, particularly Norm Saunder’s ballad Broken Down and Kirk’s monologue were their very own rewards: filled with soul, wit and harmony.

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If you have any thoughts or questions about the project drop me a line, col@verbtheatre.com

It’s March 27!  Happy World Theatre Day, Calgary!  I know of at least 3 big parties tonight among the theatre crowds, so go out and celebrate!

Check out the World Theatre Day blog with a ton of cool stuff on it, including this year’s addresses from actor Judi Dench and playwright Lynn Nottage:

World Theatre Day – A Message from Lynn Nottage from Theatre Communications Group on Vimeo.

From The Theatre Communications Group website, an alternative, or an addition to, Dame Judi Dench’s World Theatre Day message:

It’s been said that the role of an artist is to keep their eyes open, when everyone else’s are shut.

It’s a beautiful and simple sentiment.  We are cultural watchdogs.    We stand at attention, observing and reacting. We excavate, uncover, interpret and unravel.  We protect tradition and shape new ones.  We look inward…and then outward to find ways to better understand our selves.
We live in a world that has become increasingly interconnected through the ascendancy of new media, yet paradoxically more fractured by racism, religion, politics and economics.   Our venerated financial institutions are crumbling and petty partisan fights paralyze our governments. Our insatiable need for oil and precious minerals fuel deadly armed conflicts in places like Iraq and the Democratic Republic of Congo.   Poverty and suffering have become givens in a world of abundance, and women continue to fight for basic human rights and dignity in most countries.  Hate, not love, fuel religious revolutions, poisoning generations of young men and women merely searching for meaning.   We look for solutions in the recycling bins, and turn on the television to drown out our woes.  This is our world, shaped by our own design, chaotic and unruly, yet beautiful and infinitely fascinating.
As artists and global citizens, the world continues to demand our attention, and as such we must be intrepid explorers, daring to venture into uncomfortable zones to unearth difficult truths.  We must be unafraid to look honestly at the human condition and try to come to terms with its contradictions and flaws.    That means approaching our work not as journalists, but as fabulators, storytellers, breaking rules to help reimagine the world.  We must be truthful, while spinning yarns.  It is the paradox of our creative process that gives us access to places we dare not go in our everyday lives.  It emboldens us to ask difficult questions about war, race, religion, poverty, love and hatred.
Theatre is a place where we can collectively share our laughter, shed our tears and loudly demonstrate our joy or frustration. Theatre has the incredible capacity to be soul healing; it allows both the audience and artist to purge toxins and exorcise collective demons.
I challenge all of us to sustain the complexity of our world; to invite a multitude of diverse voices onto the stage.  We must open the doors and windows of our theatres to let the world in.  It is our responsibility; it is our burden and our gift.
We are fabulators….we are cultural watchdogs.

Is the placebo effect the same as the suspension of disbelief?

by Jamie

I’ve spent some time trying to think about how to pose this question.  Asking “what is the definition of theatre?” feels both incredibly arrogant and incredibly stupid.  So common sense, and yet so philosophical.  Who the hell am I to ask that question? Well, I’ll tell you  – I’m currently a university instructor who has asked her class to write a paper on Canadian theatre, and who was challenged by a student to specify what exactly falls into the category of “theatre.”  This, I feel, gives me the right to discuss such an important question.  GPAs are on the line!

Aside from the academic and philosophical reasons, there are practical reasons for tackling this question.  Grants, for example.  Who is eligible to apply for theatre grants?  Certainly many performance artists who may not necessarily fall into my personal definition of theatre have received theatre grants.   And my personal definition of theatre, which is perhaps more exclusive than inclusive, is up in the air these days.

Do you consider the following forms of performance works of “theatre”?

Circus?

If no, what about this kind of circus?

That was Calgary’s Mooky Cornish, by the way.   You’d be hard pressed to find anybody who’d deny her the title of theatre artist.

How about street artists?  Like Basketball Jones, who does stunts with basketballs in public performances?  If not him, what about Dean Bareham’s Gustavo performances? Fire-spinners?  Jugglers?  Buskers? What if they are in character?

How about character-based stand up comedy or improv?  Does theatre require character?  Metaphor?  Theatre used to imply the building the event took place in, but that definition has long since become obsolete.  Do you have a definition?

By Col

Here’s a timely New York Times article very worth checking out. It’s all about the rising significance projection design has in contemporary theatre production. We’re in the wake of two show, Eric Rose’s and David van Belle’s Highest Step @ ATP’s playRites and Theatre Calgary’s Beyond Eden, that truly took projections to the next step.

These shows go beyond using projections simply as title cards or scenic backdrops and have instead embraced projections at the same level as set, light, or sound design.

David van Belle in Ghost River/ATP's production of The Highest Step in the World

Lets hope that these productions help spur a virtuous cycle and inspire more and more great projection design, prompting company’s to invest in the technological infrastructure needed for great projections, enabling even better projection design, and so on and so forth…

By Col

Lately there’s been a flurry of blog posts & comments/twitter streams/summits swirling around indie theatre in the States (mostly Eastern seaboard area) and the state of new play development in those areas. I got turned on to the meam by Simon’s The Next Stage in Vancouver, who’s research far exceeds my own. Here’s one of the many links that I’ve pouring over.

There’s a lot of anxiety about new play development in American Theatre right now, much of it hinging on this idea that new play’s are instantly held up to the American cannon, and if it isn’t judged to be an instant classic then its no good. One comment points out that writers like Mamet cut their playwrighting teeth when the regional theatre system in the States was still in its infant stage and were more open to new plays.

I don’t envy the position of writers south of the border, especially from a Calgary vantage point. Last season I was working a new script at Lunchbox through their Stage One new play festival, and there I had a nice brief chat with John Lazarus who was working on a new script of his own. He was a bit shocked by the amount of play development happening in one city at one time. I believe the word Utopia was used. At the same time we were working at Lunchbox ATP was off at The Banff Centre for their playwrights colony, TC were doing readings for their Fuse playwrights circle, and the kick-ass-indie writers The Citizens of the Whimsy State were holding readings of their own. That was one hell of a week in May. A few weeks later Downstage and Ghost River were premiering Bus(t) and Something to do with Death respectively, two new creation projects that were years in the making. If you look through this season list from local companies you’ll see world premiers from writers from around the city, province, and country, as well as great work from Calgary-collective-creators.

I don’t mean to be too much of a cheerleader, Calgary isn’t prefect when it comes to new work being done. More could be done to have Calgary producing its own playwrights for example, and it’d be great to see our audiences and media celebrate the talented writers in town more as well, but nevertheless, when compared to a lot of other theatre center’s we’re at least a relative utopia, to use Mr. Lazarus’s word.

What is it about Calgary theatre that makes us so willing and eager to develop all this new work? In part, Canadian theatre doesn’t suffer from the plight of always being compared to our theatre cannon because our cannon is still being built; many of the pioneering Canadian playwrights like Sharon Pollock and John Murrell are still writing. The APN has been a quiet and driving force for local playwrights for years, and we have a number of dedicated dramaturges in town who swing pretty hefty influence within their respective companies.

Are those the answers? What am I missing?

Reposted from Toronto’s Crow’s Theatre website, check out their newsletter here

GETTING OVER IT: AMIEL GLADSTONE BREAKS UP WITH THE BC GOVERNMENT

It’s over.  No warning.

I was not in favour of this break up. I knew that things weren’t perfect but I felt like they still could be fixed. We’d worked through some hard times. I thought I had good arguments of why we should stay together. I felt like I was understood and appreciated. My achievements were trumpeted. International visitors were invited from around the world and my art was part of the incentive to come. I thought we would all be able to celebrate together. Now all our international visitors are coming, but it can feel a bit strained to plaster on the smile and pretend I’m happy to be at the party since The Government of British Columbia no longer wants to continue our relationship.

Some nights it’s hard to leave the house.  Everywhere I go I am reminded of how things were.  Just around the corner from me, the Vancouver East Cultural Centre has a brand new huge renovation. Downtown the Queen Elizabeth Theatre received a facelift. There are openings all over town filled with people. Memories of how we were in synch. And now? I feel like a failure because I couldn’t make this work.

I think about moving away.  The Globe and Mail has an article about how Chicago must be the third largest theatre town in North America and not Toronto. I don’t know anyone in Chicago. Perhaps this is a good thing. So much of being a theatre artist is making relationships with like-minded artists. This takes time. I’m 37 years old. Do I want to go out there and start all over again in another community?

Fellow director Kim and I talk about doing other things. All of these really, really smart people, are we wasting our time? We talk about other business ventures. We talk about opening a great restaurant.

I do my best to survive. I don’t always know exactly what I’m doing. But am I not worthy of support? Of love? Why have I been left? What did I do that has caused me to be treated so coldly? With what feels an awful lot like contempt.

The provincial minister who has been assigned arts as his portfolio, Kevin Krueger, is the type of man who, when in public, talks about how he loves culture so much because he saw a great Rita MacNeil concert however many years ago. Our premier Gordon Campbell seems like he shares the same love for reading and playing the piano as Stephen Harper. But this is just my anger bubbling over.  It happens sometimes. I need these guys.

I want to go over to Krueger’s front lawn with a boom box playing Rita MacNeil songs.

I realize I’m not to be trusted. I’m going through a bit of mental illness. My thought processes aren’t right. My filter is wrong. I think about going back into therapy.

I take my friend Matt to a Canucks game at GM Place. Matt’s feeling down too, broken hearted, so I’m splurging to try and cheer us up. We drink a lot of $9 beers at the game. Henrik Sedin is having an excellent season. It’s an exciting game, but the home team loses by one.

The government announces a $458 million dollar project – building a new roof for BC Place: our other downtown stadium. I wonder how the government can start seeing other people so soon. I wonder why the government likes stadiums more than theatre. Then I think about Henrik Sedin. Even I paid a lot of money to see him.

I think about how I work so much from the unknown. Often grant applications are made up or some sort of weird guess, when really they are attempts to get into the place of the unknown. What happens when there is even less money for funding? Will the unknown be even less likely to get funding? How do I shift my process so I know more, earlier?

I am directing a play at a college that trains actors. I am enjoying the work. I allow myself to fall in love with them a little bit, but my heart feels vulnerable. I feel afraid for what will happen to these young actors, as they attempt to follow a career path – especially when our political leaders are suggesting that what they are doing is worthless. I think of how we are teaching and learning to tell stories, but not teaching and learning the real skills they need. They need to be able to survive financially and be able to drop everything to take gigs. The ones that figure it out will survive.

Amiel is an award-winning playwright, director and performer based out of Vancouver. Calgary audiences will recognize him as the writer of Hippies and Bolshevicks and the Director of Gift of a Coat, both past ATP playRites productions. You can find his blog – theatre for people who don’t like theatre – on his website.

As a side note, The BC budget just dropped and it looks like arts funding is coming back to about 50% of what was cut. Not a full reconciliation, more of a friends with benefits situation.