Thursday
Aug192010
Confessions of a Fringe Virgin
Thursday, August 19, 2010 at 6:33PM
by Jamie Dunsdon
Here's a not-so-secret secret: I don't much care for Edmonton.
It's actually nothing against Edmonton itself. I actually lived there for a tiny bit, but we grew apart, you know? Edmonton wanted children, I wanted a career. We couldn't decide who was going to be in control of the money. We had this apartment north of downtown, and every night, we'd watch hookers do drugs in the parking lot on the roof of my car. That old story. Anyway. In the divorce, Edmonton kept the house (and the damage deposit), and I was just happy to get the hell out. So, it is with some discomfort that I have returned to the Big Oiley this summer as the director of an Edmonton Fringe Festival show. I still get a bit queasy every time I pass by that IKEA.
I had visited the Fringe before as a spectator, but 2010 marks my first year as an artist in the festival. You probably know that the Edmonton Fringe is the 2nd largest in the world, right below the Fringe in Edinburgh. I sometimes wonder if Edmonton was just trying to capitalize on the similarity of the two cities' names. "They'll hear about the Edmontonburgh Fringe, and flock to Canada! Then, once they're here and have realized their mistake, we'll make them see our art! It's perfect! Mwahaha!"
Wow. Even my voice for Edmonton is sinister. I've got issues. Onward.
The show I directed by Calgary playwright Andrew Torry is called Our Last White Night. It's a dark little tale about trust, faith, and betrayal set agains the mass-suicide that happened in Jonestown in 1978. I'd directed a staged reading of the play in 2009, and when Andrew invited me to direct it for this year's Fringe, I had no idea what I was getting myself into. Some observations from a first-time fringer:
1. WRITE FOR A CAST. Since Fringe shows are generally produced by individuals rather than established theatre companies, there's no money. And because there's no money, you have to cast people who are cool with being paid based on ticket sales - that is, adventurous, passionate and often young artists. I was really very lucky to get the cast I have. Bobbi Goddard (Carly) and Mallory Gallant (Molly) are young actors, graduates of the Mount Royal program. Claudia Serbanescu is a former student of mine, and played Laura in the original staged reading of Our Last White Night. All three are amazing young women who have talent and passion just spilling out all over the stage, and I feel blessed to have had the chance to work with them on this project. However, there was also a character in an earlier draft of the script called Marliss, an older character... and we couldn't cast her to save our lives. Fact is, there aren't many skilled, 40-year old actors who are available to do potentially pro bono work. Luckily for me, Andrew's performance draft of the script replaced the Marliss character with a 23 year-old guy named Greg. Frazer Andrews, an old classmate from Lethbridge, joined us to play this character. I still am not sure how we got him. This guy's a very talented actor, easily one of the best I've worked with. LESSON 1: don't write middle-aged characters unless you've got that actor in your hand.
2. YOU NEED A HOOK. Comedies are a lot easier to sell than tragedies, but it isn't really the content of a fringe show that sells it in those first couple of days. We've had a pretty decent audience turn-out for our show, but let me show you how that happened.
Scenario: I walk up to young woman on the street. Let's call her Buffy. Buffy is holding a Fringe brochure, and looking at posters, clearly looking for a show to see. I whip out a handbill.
Nine times out of ten, Buffy then comes to the show. The hook was the "kool-aid drinking cult." Seems cool, dark, and recognizable. Had this play happened anywhere else, I'm not sure how we would have pitched the show.
For some shows, the title itself is the hook. The first show I saw this year was called Fucking Stephen Harper: How I Sexually Assaulted the 22nd Prime Minster of Canada. I admit, I bought the ticket based on the title. It seemed fun, exciting, edgy, and political. I was sorely let down by the performance (it wasn't even really a play, but a book-tour), but the sold-out audience members each paid their $14 to get in to this one-man show. I suspect they were all there for the same reasons. And the artist made a fortune.
LESSON 2: If you want a big audience, make sure you have a strong HOOK.
LESSON 2.5: If you want that big audience to actually enjoy the show, make sure the HOOK is ACCURATE.
More Confessions of a Fringe Virgin in another post. Thanks for reading!
Here's a not-so-secret secret: I don't much care for Edmonton.
It's actually nothing against Edmonton itself. I actually lived there for a tiny bit, but we grew apart, you know? Edmonton wanted children, I wanted a career. We couldn't decide who was going to be in control of the money. We had this apartment north of downtown, and every night, we'd watch hookers do drugs in the parking lot on the roof of my car. That old story. Anyway. In the divorce, Edmonton kept the house (and the damage deposit), and I was just happy to get the hell out. So, it is with some discomfort that I have returned to the Big Oiley this summer as the director of an Edmonton Fringe Festival show. I still get a bit queasy every time I pass by that IKEA.I had visited the Fringe before as a spectator, but 2010 marks my first year as an artist in the festival. You probably know that the Edmonton Fringe is the 2nd largest in the world, right below the Fringe in Edinburgh. I sometimes wonder if Edmonton was just trying to capitalize on the similarity of the two cities' names. "They'll hear about the Edmontonburgh Fringe, and flock to Canada! Then, once they're here and have realized their mistake, we'll make them see our art! It's perfect! Mwahaha!"
Wow. Even my voice for Edmonton is sinister. I've got issues. Onward.
The show I directed by Calgary playwright Andrew Torry is called Our Last White Night. It's a dark little tale about trust, faith, and betrayal set agains the mass-suicide that happened in Jonestown in 1978. I'd directed a staged reading of the play in 2009, and when Andrew invited me to direct it for this year's Fringe, I had no idea what I was getting myself into. Some observations from a first-time fringer:
1. WRITE FOR A CAST. Since Fringe shows are generally produced by individuals rather than established theatre companies, there's no money. And because there's no money, you have to cast people who are cool with being paid based on ticket sales - that is, adventurous, passionate and often young artists. I was really very lucky to get the cast I have. Bobbi Goddard (Carly) and Mallory Gallant (Molly) are young actors, graduates of the Mount Royal program. Claudia Serbanescu is a former student of mine, and played Laura in the original staged reading of Our Last White Night. All three are amazing young women who have talent and passion just spilling out all over the stage, and I feel blessed to have had the chance to work with them on this project. However, there was also a character in an earlier draft of the script called Marliss, an older character... and we couldn't cast her to save our lives. Fact is, there aren't many skilled, 40-year old actors who are available to do potentially pro bono work. Luckily for me, Andrew's performance draft of the script replaced the Marliss character with a 23 year-old guy named Greg. Frazer Andrews, an old classmate from Lethbridge, joined us to play this character. I still am not sure how we got him. This guy's a very talented actor, easily one of the best I've worked with. LESSON 1: don't write middle-aged characters unless you've got that actor in your hand.
2. YOU NEED A HOOK. Comedies are a lot easier to sell than tragedies, but it isn't really the content of a fringe show that sells it in those first couple of days. We've had a pretty decent audience turn-out for our show, but let me show you how that happened.
Scenario: I walk up to young woman on the street. Let's call her Buffy. Buffy is holding a Fringe brochure, and looking at posters, clearly looking for a show to see. I whip out a handbill.
Jamie: "Hi, are you looking for a show to see?"
Buffy: "Yeah, maybe."
Jamie: "Well you should check out Our Last White Night."
Buffy: "Um..."
Jamie: "It's a play about Jonestown!"
Buffy: "I don't know wh-"
Jamie: "Jonestown is that cult that killed themselves by drinking poisoned Kool-Aid."
Buffy: "Oh yeah! Don't drink the Kool-Aid."
Jamie: "That's right."
Buffy: "Cool! When does it play?"
Nine times out of ten, Buffy then comes to the show. The hook was the "kool-aid drinking cult." Seems cool, dark, and recognizable. Had this play happened anywhere else, I'm not sure how we would have pitched the show.
For some shows, the title itself is the hook. The first show I saw this year was called Fucking Stephen Harper: How I Sexually Assaulted the 22nd Prime Minster of Canada. I admit, I bought the ticket based on the title. It seemed fun, exciting, edgy, and political. I was sorely let down by the performance (it wasn't even really a play, but a book-tour), but the sold-out audience members each paid their $14 to get in to this one-man show. I suspect they were all there for the same reasons. And the artist made a fortune.
LESSON 2: If you want a big audience, make sure you have a strong HOOK.
LESSON 2.5: If you want that big audience to actually enjoy the show, make sure the HOOK is ACCURATE.
More Confessions of a Fringe Virgin in another post. Thanks for reading!
tagged Edmonton Fringe
Edmonton Fringe
Reader Comments (1)
I am honored to become one of the readers of this blog post. Thanks to your generous support I am really the first in my home to have some knowledge in regards to this topic. Growing up in a less privileged local community has not only presented challenges of internet access, but it has more importantly made me realize the worthiness of being blessed with the wealth of information on your web site.