Children and the Arts: The conversation begins

Damon Calderwood and Robyn Wallis, Photo credit: Tim Matheson

Last Saturday I was invited by Jessie van Rijn, General Manager for Carousel Theatre for Young People, to a Bloggers’ Night at Carousel Theatre’s holiday production of The Wizard of Oz at Waterfront Theatre. While the bloggers in attendance were invited to tweet and live blog before and after the performance and during the intermission, Jessie was careful to stress both in her invitation and at the event itself that Carousel did not require or expect us to do so.

What Jessie did want to do by inviting bloggers to a Carousel production was to start a conversation about the role of the arts (and in Carousel’s case, specifically theatre) in the development of children and young people. Even without Jessie’s kind invitation to watch the stage version of my childhood favourite film (the MGM classic starring Judy Garland), I am more than happy to do so.

I know without a doubt the invaluable effect images, films, books, theatre, music, and dance had on my imaginative life and on my creativity growing up. From having the ending of Romeo & Juliet explained to me by my mother (after which I wondered why the heck anyone would bother writing a story that ended like that) to realizing after a conversation with my dad that I’d perhaps sided with the wrong character (apparently, the Phantom of the Opera was not a very nice man), the art I was exposed to led me to question what I saw, to hunger for explanation, and to create my own possibilities and versions of events when the explanation didn’t suit me (a creative act and one that the most lauded adult innovators perform constantly). I know that the cultural activities I was exposed to as a child and as a teenager shaped my own ambitions regarding becoming an artist and a writer.

Whether or not a child grows up to become an artist themselves, any activity that inspires and nurtures creativity (such as a trip to the theatre or the ballet) will be beneficial to them and to the world they will inherit. Celebrated 21st-century figures such as Steve Jobs were not only technically skilled–they were also incredibly creative. Terms like “innovative” and “thinking outside the box” get thrown around a lot nowadays as desirable traits for the work world of today, but what everyone really means is creativity, the ability to break from an established pattern and make something new, even if it’s simply something old viewed in a new way.

Creativity is not only useful in the workplace–it is also necessary for developing life and coping skills. Far from the stereotype of the miserable suicidal artist, reinforced by the high profile suicides of artists such as Virginia Woolf and Vincent van Gogh, a faculty for creativity is NOT a precursor to misery and suicidal ideation as creative people are better able to envision alternative solutions to the unhappy circumstances they face, and to find an outlet for the emotional and mental distress they may be feeling. The more choices you can envision for yourself, the less likely you are to find yourself powerless and trapped by your circumstances.

If you are still wondering why it is important to nurture children’s imaginations, my favourite answer is simply because children have them. Kids have a rich image life and as they begin to learn about the world they are exposed to new fears and wonders. I can think of no better example of this than the experiences of the five-year-old guest I brought with me to The Wizard of Oz (along with her mother, a friend of mine). Today I’ll call her LG (for Little Guest). LG is an outgoing and sassy little girl, who wanted to be the one to buy her Mentos from the lobby concession BY HERSELF and who chatted freely before the show even though she hasn’t seen me since she was three.

Meghan Anderssen, Photo credit: Tim Matheson

When we sat down in our second row seats (thanks Jessie!) and we saw how close to the stage we were, LG became a little apprehensive about her proximity to the Wicked Witch, and then she became downright terrified and asked to go home. My friend (her mom) had a chat with LG in the lobby about what she was afraid of and Jessie at Carousel not only helped by describing what would happen in the show to LG (explaining that in this production the Witch is more funny than scary) but was also able to re-seat us near the back of the theatre where we could still see and hear everything perfectly well (there’s not a bad seat in the Waterfront) and where LG could have a few rows of audience between her and any onstage witchiness.

After the show, the children in the audience were invited to climb onto the stage with Jessie and take a look at the sets and props used, meet the cast members, and ask questions about how the play worked. I think understanding how the images and characters that scared her are created helped smooth over LG’s initial fears and in the car afterwords she announced proudly that though she was “a little scared at first” she was glad she went and that she liked Glinda and that Jessie explained to her how the magical snow was able to defeat the Witch’s poisonous poppies.

The point I am trying to make with this heart warming little story, besides the fact that Jessie van Rijn and Carousel Theatre are good with kids, is that whether we encourage it or not children will imagine. No one told LG to think about the Wicked Witch, or to imagine that the Witch could possibly harm her, but LG was frightened anyways. What nurturing creativity does is provide children with weapons to combat their imagined fears (in LG’s case, Glinda and some magical snow did the trick).

The bright side of children’s ability to imagine that horrors lurk in the closet or under their bed is their ability to imagine that the world around them, while dark and strange sometimes, is also full of wonder and light. My little sister’s imagination once plagued her with night terrors, but her imagination was also able to convince her that the dream catcher my parents hung above her bed would stop them, and so it did. The same mind that believes in the Bogeyman and ghosts is also able to believe in Santa Claus and fairies. Children will imagine whether we tell them to or not–why would we not want to provide their imaginations with images and experiences that make them feel happy, inspired, and powerful?

I once came across a quote from Lewis Mumford (American historian, philosopher, cultural critic, and father) which I have loved ever since for eloquently framing my feelings on this issue of encouraging (or discouraging) imagination in children:

In repressing this life of fantasy and subordinating it to our own practical interests, we perhaps…gave the demonic a free hand without conjuring up any angelic powers to fight on the other side. We did not get rid of the dragon: we only banished St. George

                -Lewis Mumford, Green Memories

So there you have it folks. Give your kids something lasting this Christmas, something that will encourage their creativity, stimulate their imaginations, and arm them against their fears. Give them a St. George, or a Glinda the Good Witch, or even just a fun evening at the theatre or with a great book.

For me, this is what has lasted. This is what I remember and treasure after my old toys have been boxed up or garage-saled or forgotten. My parents gave me as much imagination and creativity as they could and it’s those gifts I am continually thankful for.

Robyn Wallis, Darren Burkett, Mike Stack, and Josue Laboucane, Photo credit: Tim Matheson

Full disclosure: I do not have children of my own. But I was a child once, and I have a good memory. I also have teacher parents, teacher neighbours, little cousins, TC’s cousins, friends with kids, babysitting experience, and an obsession with YA fiction.

My ticket to The Wizard of Oz, as well as the tickets of LG and her mother, were provided by Carousel Theatre for their Bloggers’ Night event. I was not asked to review or promote the show.

Carousel Theatre’s current season is based on literary classics. For more information about its productions and what Carousel does,  please visit their website.

Tired Musings (The Give and Take of Trying to Be an Artist Sometimes)

Those of you who have been reading my blog lately will know that in a week’s time I will be performing in a show called Troika! at the Little Mountain Gallery at Main and 26th. I’m also working my Real Job and taking an Early Modern Literature class at SFU.

This means that right now I am running around with my head cut off and trying to take deep breathes and go to sleep sometimes. I spent every free moment last week painting props for Troika! while listening to The Essential Leonard Cohen and trying not to go insane. It’s probably a little too late for the attempt, but I do feel as though this level of insanity is at least manageable. It also made me want to make lists!

Things I will give up, put off, or forgo to get to be an artist sometimes:

  • Sleep
  • Hanging out with my friends (sorry guys, I’ll see y’all after the second week in August or so)
  • Cleaning my apartment (if you know me well or have ever lived with me you’ll know this hurts me)
  • Wearing clothes that match, or, you know, are clean
  • Reading my Maclean’s magazines (this one really hurts too–I’m so uninformed nowadays)
  • Doing my hair in a style that isn’t “pony tail” or “bobby pinned”
  • Sanity and dignity. M’h. They’re overrated.

My apartment is not supposed to look like this! (Prop design by Sonja Kresowaty, painted by me)

Things I will NOT give up, put off, or forgo to get to be an artist sometimes:

  • Some degree of financial stability (this means I work a Real Job, but that’s okay, it’s a good one)
  • My family (have you ever heard that “show must go on” hypothetical to gauge how serious about theatre you are, the one that goes “Would you skip your mother’s funeral if it was the same night as opening?” Well I have. And the answer is no. I wouldn’t.)
  • Eating. I once lost 6 lbs. in three weeks while I was directing, because I was too busy to buy groceries or to eat. Which is pretty extreme for me. Lesson learned.
  • My health. Headaches, sore throats, and nausea are pretty normal for me during a show, but illnesses I have come down with while being theatrical include pink eye, shingles, and H1N1 (though luckily quite mild –and this is when I’m trying to take care of my health).
  • Hygiene

At the moment, the two things I’ve noticed giving up the most are sleep and cleaning my apartment. I was already getting a little too busy to give the place the thorough cleaning I would like, and the frantic making of props did not help. It makes me mentally and emotionally irritated to exist in a mess but since it can’t be helped, well, I guess that’s that. I’ll live.

But I just want to sleep. Oh my god, I just want to sleep. I want to put my head on this desk right now and sleep and sleep and sleep. I want to go home, make a cave out of my duvet and pillows, crawl inside, and emerge two days later, feeling refreshed enough to move to the couch, read a magazine, and have a nap. And then when I was feeling more energized, maybe I’d go to my TC’s place and nap in his hammock chair. Quality time. You know how it is. Always some new place to curl up and sleep a little.

Finally finished at 1:30 am. Say hello to my new friends!

But I can’t. Not just yet. I’ve got another two weeks or so of mayhem. Good mayhem. The kind of mayhem that doesn’t let me sleep or scrub the bathtub but does let me work with my friends. The kind of mayhem that lets me paint props (which was actually really fun) and sing along to Leonard Cohen. The kind of mayhem that means next week I will be performing on a stage with my friends, sharing our stories with old friends, new friends, and strangers alike. That kind of mayhem. The kind of mayhem that says life is bigger and deeper and brighter than the cycle of work-home-eat-watch TV-drink on weekends-work-home-TV, etc. that is so seductive if my mind and my body aren’t active. There’s no mayhem in that cycle, but it’s not relaxing, it’s soul-draining.

So I’ll resist the call of my duvet and scummy bathtub, take rain checks on plans with my friends for a couple more weeks, try to stay focused, take my multi-vitamins, stay cheerful, and do the best work I can. I know my fellow Troika!-ers are feeling just as tired, just as scattered, and just as excited.

If you would like to see Troika! and its double-bill other half, The Troubles (presented by Resounding Scream Theatre), the show will run August 3-7 at the Little Mountain Gallery. Tickets can be purchased in advance at Brown Paper Tickets.

If you have any questions regarding this production, please contact Gina Readman, Production Manager, at troika.thetroubles@gmail.com.

Poster design by Arthur Yee

Summer Double Bill: “Troika! / The Troubles”, August 3-7

poster by Arthur Yee

It’s a summer theatrical double bill extravaganza! This August, Some of the New Bees are proud to present Troika! as a double bill with Resounding Scream Theatre’s The Troubles at the Little Mountain Gallery off Main.

Before we go any further, SHAMELESS PLUG ALERT: I will be performing in this show. Some of the New Bees is an ad hoc theatre grouping borne of the 2009 Fringe Festival piece, Hive: The New Bees whose members change depending on which new bees are participating in any given performance. This summer, Some of the New Bees will be presenting Troika!:

Weaving together folktales, memoirs, history, and pop culture, Troika tells the story of growing up Ukrainian Canadian in Western Canada. With cast members hailing from the big city of Vancouver, the suburbs of Edmonton, and a small town in Saskatchewan, Troika uses elements of music, movement, and storytelling to take a sometimes poignant and sometimes humourous look at what it means to celebrate culture and heritage two generations removed from the motherland. Troika is created and performed by Aliya Griffin, Lauren Kresowaty, and Natalie Schneck.

Troika! - Photo credit: Sean Griffin

I’m in a play! Fancy schmancy! After almost nine months of being a theatre artist talking the talk in this blog, I am very excited to be walking the walk and treading the boards at Little Mountain with my friends (and fellow SFU Contemporary Arts alumni). This is the first time I have explored my own childhood and family history as a performer onstage. The three of us began this journey almost a year ago and even in the midst of frantic rehearsing and prop making we are eager to share this experience with an audience.

I am also very excited to be part of a double bill production with Resounding Scream Theatre (also friends), and their original one-woman play The Troubles, which will be travelling to the Victoria Fringe Festival (August 25-September 4) and Fringetastic in Nanaimo (September 8-11) after their Vancouver run:

Resounding Scream Theatre presents The Troubles
Written and Performed by: Stephanie Henderson
Directed by: Catherine Ballachey
“What would they call you? Not your name, love, your side?”
Based on personal accounts of the conflict in Northern Ireland, The Troubles is a thought-provoking show that draws upon the voices of five distinct characters to explore questions around community, morality, and loyalty. A boundary-pushing story of love and violence, The Troubles speaks that which has been forgotten.

The Troubles - Photo credit: Everett Jelley, The Jelley Photography, http://www.thejelley.com

Whether you want to enjoy a night of original theatre, support local artists, visit East Vancouver, or just watch me and my friends engage with our cultural roots, I look forward to seeing your shining faces at Troika!/The Troubles.

Troika!/The Troubles runs August 3 – 6 at 8:00 pm. Matinee performances will be held at 2:00 pm on Saturday, August 6 and Sunday, August 7.

The venue for the production is the Little Mountain Gallery, 195 East 26th Avenue (just off Main).

Tickets for Troika!/The Troubles can be purchased online at Brown Paper Tickets (recommended).

If you have any questions regarding the production, or mobility (or other) concerns regarding the venue, please contact Gina Readman, Production Manager, at troika.thetroubles@gmail.com.

Jessies 2011: Nifty Reports for Hummingbird604.com

The Jessie Richardson Theatre Awards are held each year to recognize and honour outstanding contributions to theatre in Vancouver. This year, I was there, attending as media and covering the event for my friend Raul Pacheco-Vega and his blog, Hummingbird604.com.

For my coverage of the 2011 Jessies, please visit Hummingbird604.

I bought this dress for $5 from a naked hippie on Wreck Beach!

Because I tried to keep my post a little more professional (keeping in mind that I am a guest on Raul’s site), I’ll use my space on NiftyNotCool to express just how totally jazzed I was. I was totally jazzed. I did my hair. I put on dangle-y earrings. And heels. And a sparkly dress that I think is just a bit cheeky. Red lipstick. Hooray.

I had a great night. I was inspired and educated (there is still so much theatre I need to see, and so many companies whose work I want to be more familiar with) and just plain ol’ JAZZED to be there.

The lovely Lois Dawson and me. LOVE that blue!

I also got to boogie down with Lois Dawson and the Pacific Theatre crew, whose season I was able to enjoy mostly through Lois’ generosity. Everyone was fabulous. Theatre people are the best dancers.

Furthermore, theatre people clean up well. Since I spend most of my theatrical time in rehearsals in sweat pants, or onstage in some crazy get-up, I sometimes forget what a fine-looking bunch theatre people really are. Damn. We are a fine-looking bunch. Don’t believe me? Come to the Jessies next year and cut a rug with us.

Want more information about what happened at the 29th Annual Jessie Awards? Read all about it at Hummingbird604.com.

Of course I must give a huge THANK YOU to Raul at Hummingbird604 for sending me to the ceremony on his behalf. Being able to cover the 2011 Jessies was a lovely end to a great season of Vancouver theatre.

June 2011: East Van Culture In the House

Music. Dance. Circus sorcery. Puppets. Beautiful East Van homes in the Commercial Drive area opening their doors to the public. Is this some eccentric real estate fantasy? No, it’s the return of the In the House Festival invading living rooms with its unique brand of community and magic in East Vancouver.

I have spent so much time lamenting over the hard knock life of those working in the arts that when Mads, an intern from the festival, asked me on Twitter if I would be interested in writing a piece about this year’s In the House Festival, I jumped at the chance to help promote a festival I have enjoyed in the past. I asked Mads if I might be able to ask a festival representative some questions for the post and was immediately put in touch with Myriam Steinberg, the Artistic Director of the In the House Festival, who has been involved with the festival since its inception in 2003. Myriam was so obliging and her answers so detailed I’ve included them here. [My questions are in bold, Myriam’s answers in italics]

The idea of an entire festival dedicated to bringing performers and audience into people’s homes is quite unique. What particular Vancouver cultural needs do you feel the In the House Festival addresses? There are a couple. Vancouver has a dearth of venues that are either financially accessible, or that are open to a variety of disciplines. It’s also difficult to find a venue where people will have focused attention on the performer. At In the House, we provide the space where the audience is 100% paying attention to the artists, the artists can do their thing, explore their genre, test out new material, interact directly with the audience and get paid more than the average “pass the hat” situation that they encounter in lots of bars and coffee shops. On a community level, In the House brings people together in intimate settings which create a trust and hopefully builds friendships and dispels stereotypes about neighbourhoods.

Photo credit: Diane Smithers

Are acts chosen for the festival based on the East Van homes available to the festival, or does the festival recruit homes based on the artist line-up already determined? We recruit homes based on the artist line-up primarily. Of course because some houses are smaller than others, we have to make sure that we don’t put the circus acts in a narrow living room, but instead put something like spoken word or other one person acts [in that space].


How does this year’s festival differ from years past? What are you particularly excited about this year? What have you learned from past years?
This is the 2nd year where we’ve added a 3rd night to the festival. We’ve [therefore] been able to add four more shows to the line-up. This year, we are featuring a bunch of upcoming youth in amongst the seasoned performers. Travis Lim does a killer Michael Jackson. I’m really excited to see him perform. At age 9 he’s already won 13 medals for dance! The Whitridge Brothers (11 and 15 years old) are jazz musicians who are included in the already stellar line-up. I think it’s important to give a voice to kids who have amazing talent. Age is no marker for talent.

I’m excited to watch the Cabaret so Mignon (magic, bellydance, music, clowning), to learn how to swing dance in Swingin’ Times, and of course I’m always looking forward to the finale. This year it’s a Blues Circus.

I guess the most valuable lesson I have learned from organizing the festival is to plan and organize well ahead of time and to keep expanding the network that surrounds the scene. It is thrilling to see so much great talent out there, but also to see how many people are willing to help volunteer during these festive days.


Tell me about the performance spaces (the homes). Are audience members permitted to use the washrooms? Are many of the homes wheelchair accessible/can arrangements be made to accommodate an audience member with disabilities? Any other amenities offered by the spaces (food available to buy, etc.)?
One of the most important parts about the shows is the fact that they are taking place inside people’s living rooms. It gives the shows an intimate and much more engaging atmosphere you would not find in a lot of other places. We do have port-a-potties available by Festival Central [Napier and Victoria] which we encourage festival goers to use, instead of the house washrooms, but of course people are generally allowed to use the washrooms of the houses during a show. However, they are not allowed to go explore the rest of the house outside the performance space and the bathroom. It’s really important to respect the privacy and safety of the homeowners who are so generously donating their space to a show. The backyards are generally wheelchair accessible, and about half the shows are in a backyard. Some of the houses are as well, but less so. We do have a ton of volunteers though who are available to help [or] we can also install a ramp if we have enough notice of someone in a wheelchair coming to a show. We certainly don’t want to exclude anyone from the In the House experience. In terms of food, there will be snacks and non-alcoholic drinks to buy, although we encourage people to use the “dinner hours” to explore the nice restaurants around Commercial Drive.  

If I were a Commercial-drive area home owner interested in opening my home to the festival, where could I go/who could I contact for more information? You can contact me, Myriam, at info@inthehousefestival.com or 604-874-9325. The website also has information about the shows we put on and what it means to open your home to a show.

How can artists apply for/submit their work for consideration for inclusion in In the House? They can email or mail me a demo of what they do. I prefer to hire performers from the Lower Mainland.

And finally: Do you have any important information/tips for audience members to make their In the House experience go as smoothly as possible? If you want a guaranteed seat, buy your tickets in advance. Shows tend to sell out. Also, if you’re buying your tickets on site or have a pass, get your tickets from the box office [Napier and Victoria] as early as possible. Seating is first come first served so if you want a good not squishy seat, get your place in line early.

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I am a big fan of the idea of meta-theatre, and the idea that the experience of a performance is not confined only to what is happening on the stage space. The concept of this festival suggests an openness of spirit on the part of performers and audience and a huge amount of trust on the part of those who have turned their homes into a venue for performance. Is this the kind of experience you wish to participate in/support? Check out the festival.

The 2011 In the House Festival runs June 3-5 in the Commercial Drive area.

To purchase tickets through PayPal, click here.

For schedule information and to learn more about the Festival’s performers, click here.

Thanks Mads and Myriam for giving me the opportunity to learn about and promote this special kind of East Vancouver culture. It sure beats the hell out of whining over the sorry state of the arts. 🙂

Simple and Effective: “Jake’s Gift” at Pacific Theatre

I must confess I haven’t though much about Canada’s World War II veterans lately. When I do, I usually envision navy blazers, berets, senior citizens, and excruciatingly rhythmic elementary school recitations (“In FLANders FIELDS the POPpies BLOW…”). These thoughts aren’t really in my consciousness until November each year.

I don’t usually imagine a ten-year-old girl in Normandy, striking up a friendship with a curmudgeonly Canadian veteran who has travelled to France for the 60th anniversary of D-Day.

This is the premise of “Jake’s Gift”, a one-woman show created and performed by Julia Mackey. “Jake’s Gift” is playing at Pacific Theatre Wednesday to Saturday evenings (with a matinee Saturday) until April 16.

From an “acting technique” standpoint, Mackey is a delight to watch. What is interesting to me is that the character of Jake was originally discovered and developed by Mackey during an intensive Mask Characterization workshop offered by Pacific Theatre in 2002. Having experienced some mask training in my own BFA, it was exciting to see the possibilities for character and narration that can be found and shaped through this kind of work.

I have watched many one-person shows where much of the narrative is delivered through monologues, with the actor playing one or more characters. Mackey chose to manifest most of the story through dialogue, sometimes with up to three characters, switching from one character to another instantaneously. With such fast transformations, many actors would be tempted to rely on a prop or costume piece (i.e. hat vs. no hat, etc.) to indicate to the audience which character is speaking. Mackey did not need to do this. Posture, voice, inner rhythm, even the lines of Mackey’s face seemed to change depending on who was speaking. It was as if her body and face were a hand upon which Mackey could place any puppet. I did not need a costume change to tell me who was who. I saw each character (ten-year-old Isabel, her grandmother, the old veteran Jake): familiar, recognizable, and clear as day.

The exchange between Isabel and Jake is so good-hearted and amusing, and Isabel’s high spirits are so infectious, you are caught off guard by the expression of the loss that lives in the hearts of those affected by war. I, like many others born in Canada, am familiar with the story of the Second World War and our veterans’ contribution to the Allies’ victory. I am fortunately not familiar with the loss of a loved one, nor with the idea of deliberately putting my own life in danger.

Many performances involving the stories of Canada’s veterans (especially those performed in schools, as “Jake’s Gift” has been many times), stray into the dangerous area of sentimentality; superficially tugging at our heart strings but keeping us ultimately and comfortably disconnected from the subject matter. The story of Jake and Isabel is told so frankly, and so matter-of-factly, that I could not avoid being affected by it.

The long and the short of it is that whether they enlisted for king and country, or for “hot meals, a trip to Europe and a shiny pair of boots” as Jake did, many young people placed themselves in harm’s way, and many did not return. Families in Canada were left without a sibling, a parent, or a child. This part of our history as Canadians and it hasn’t felt so true or close to me in a long time.

Another loss addressed in “Jake’s Gift” is the loss of the WWII veterans themselves. As they grow older (and sadly begin to pass away), we lose the living connection to an important part of our history. In a memorable and lonely moment on the stage, Jake dons his navy blazer and Legion beret with trembling fingers, straightening up for a moment to salute like the hearty young soldier he once was. When watching, I did not see Mackey onstage, or even the character Jake. I saw my grandfather. I saw the men and women of the Legion in my home town in Saskatchewan, a generation of Canadians whose pride and strength and incredible sacrifice has been forced to yield to age and the passage of time.

The story Julia Mackey has created with “Jake’s Gift” is simple and accessible, short and sweet. It is neither for nor against war. The story just is, and its lack of complication did not diminish the experience for me. Mackey’s investment in the piece as a creator, an actor, and a person, is evident. To me, “Jake’s Gift” has a bittersweet spirit that serves as a gentle reminder that November is not the only time of year to remember the sacrifices of others, and to, as always, respect our elders, who have experienced moments in their lives we will hopefully never have to know.

“Jake’s Gift” runs until April 16 at Pacific Theatre. Tickets can be obtained at the Pacific Theatre Box Office through visiting their website or calling 604-731-5518. For more information about the play itself, “Jake’s Gift” has its own website, www.jakesgift.com.

Once again, I was able to attend “Jake’s Gift” through the generosity of the lovely Lois Dawson, author of the excellent Vancouver theatre blog, Lois Backstage. Thanks Lois!

One Electric Ride: “Jesus Hopped the ‘A’ Train”

Glass City Theatre‘s production of “Jesus Hopped the ‘A’ Train” at Pacific Theatre is not for the faint of heart. It is not for those of us whose enjoyment and appreciation of a show requires a happy ending. It is not for those of us who are comfortable in our assessment of the way the world and people work and do not want to be challenged. It is for those of us who are interested in a solid, uncompromising script, difficult themes, and unapologetic performances.

The play, written by Stephen Adly Guirgis and directed by Angela Konrad, takes place on Rikers Island, New York, where two men, one a convicted serial killer, the other on trial for a murder he doesn’t think was a crime, spend their days in solitary confinement. For one hour each day they are brought outside to  separate cages to spend some time in the fresh air. Sometimes friends, sometimes enemies, the meat of this play can be found in the conversation and complicated relationship that builds between these two prisoners during their time together at Rikers. This particular production also boasts a simple, effective, and altogether stunning set and lighting design by Itai Erdal.

Not having been raised in a religious household, I occasionally find myself nervous when I attend performances at Pacific Theatre. I sometimes worry that perhaps the spiritual mandate of the company (which operates on the property of the Holy Trinity Anglican Church) will result in productions that exclude a non-religious viewer (like myself) or otherwise prevent my enjoyment of the work. So far this has not happened. Yes, religion is a central theme of the play. Lucius, the convicted serial killer, believes he has found God and tries to convince Angel, who is still pleading innocent for the murder of a cult leader, to do the same.

This plot could have easily alienated a viewer like me, but it did not. The strength of the script lies in its forever altering lines between black and white, right and wrong. Upon first appearance,  Lucius is presented as a sympathetic character, even though we know he has murdered eight people. Angel is also presented as sympathetic, a victim of circumstances. And yet, as much as we begin to like these men, as much as one has found God and the other’s lawyer insists that he is innocent, the fact we must always contend with is that both have taken human life. Is there ever a good and moral reason to do so? Is an unspeakably horrible upbringing an excuse to cause so much pain to victims and their families? Can you ever reach a place, after you have done something wrong, where you can make it right and be forgiven, whether it be by God, or by society, or by yourself? Even if a jury were to find you innocent, if you have broken your own personal laws of right and wrong, what then?

While the entire cast is strong, Carl Kennedy (Lucius) and Robert Olguin (Angel) are electric together. There is such an overwhelming energy onstage it verges constantly on either giddiness or violence. The script can be very funny. And there is violence. But it is not the characters’ actions that are violent (they are prisoners), it is their words and their lives that are violent. I found myself on teetering on the edge of tears during the second act (I was not the only one), not because the acting or directing was “milking” a reaction out of me but because I simply couldn’t bear the strain of watching the struggle to make right out of something so horribly horribly wrong.

The play is a struggle.  The characters struggle. Heroes, villains–everyone is both. “Jesus Hopped the ‘A’ Train” shows us a world where nothing is completely saved, and yet, nothing is completely lost either. Much like ours. A constant struggle to find the right. What is the answer? I don’t know. Struggle struggle struggle.

I appreciate leaving the theatre with more questions than I had when I walked in. I appreciate the occasional challenge to my own moral compass, and the opportunity to put myself in the shoes of a person whose eyes I will hopefully never see through.

“Jesus Hopped the ‘A’ Train” runs until April 2 at Pacific Theatre. Tickets can be obtained at the Pacific Theatre Box Office through visiting their website or calling 604-731-5518.

Final notes: I received a comp ticket from the good-hearted Lois Dawson,  all-around Super Vancouver Theatre Woman and author of the theatre blog Lois Backstage. She gave me a comp because she’s awesome. I was not asked by Pacific Theatre or Glass City Theatre to write a review of this production.

SFU Woodwards presents “The Alice” and “Black Box 2011”

Let me begin by saying that I will not be reviewing shows at my alma mater, the School for Contemporary Arts at SFU. I will, however, shamelessly plug them on the internet before I watch them.

A lot of changes have occurred since I began at SFU in 2005. My first SFU acting instructor, Marc Diamond, sadly passed away that fall while writing his Alice play. I’ve graduated with my BFA (and lost some of my enthusiasm to the need to not be poor, sadly) and SFU Contemporary Arts has moved from the leaky-roofed old facilities on Burnaby Mountain and into the shiny new Woodwards complex on Hastings Street. Cosmetically, the new SFU theatre spaces are unrecognizable compared to the old SFU Mainstage and its hillbilly little cousin, Studio II.

In spite of the new facilities and the new faces gracing SFU’s stages today, Marc’s Alice play, and his beloved partner Penelope Stella’s commitment to realizing it onstage, has remained. Until March 5, “The Alice: A play by Marc Diamond” is being presented in the Fei and Milton Wong Experimental Theatre as SFU’s Spring 2011 Theatre Mainstage production.

(Sources from the inside have reported that during rehearsals the running time for “The Alice” was approximately four hours so be prepared to lengthen your attention span.)

Tickets to “The Alice” are very affordable at $10 for Students/Seniors and $15 General Admission. Please note that there are no performances on February 27 or 28.

In addition to its Mainstage production, SFU Theatre is also presenting its 2011 Black Box season this spring. Blackbox is an SFU theatre course in which an ensemble of students create, rehearse, and produce a new show every few weeks of the spring semester. It is an exercise in creativity, experimentation, and sheer endurance. Generally, when I see a season of SFU’s Black Box, I see things that disturb me, make me laugh, inspire me, and sometimes just make me go, “Huh.”

SFU’s Black Box season is the perfect taster for those new to SFU Theatre. The performances are short, free, and go well with whatever else you’ve got planned that evening (drinks afterwords at one of several nearby Gastown pubs, for example). Show 2 of Black Box 2011 is based on the theme of “Community” and runs Friday, February 25 at 7:00 and 9:00, and Saturday, February 26 at 7:00 and 9:00 in SFU Woodward’s Studio T.

If you can’t make it this time round, don’t worry, there will be more shows this season.

SFU’s School for the Contemporary Arts has been hidden for far too long atop Burnaby Mountain. They have made the effort to move downtown and join the Vancouver artistic community. If you are curious about the innovative work being created and performed by tomorrow’s contemporary artists, may I humbly suggest that you visit their brand spanking new campus and see what all the fuss is about.

PuSh 2011: “Peter Panties” at the Cultch

I’ve been a Peter Pan devotee all my life. I’ve seen the musical, own the Disney film as well as a live-action one, I cry every time I read the book. It makes sense, therefore, that I was very jazzed to be wrapping up my 2011 PuSh Festival experience with “Peter Panties” at the Cultch on Saturday. “Peter Panties”, written by Niall McNeil with Marcus Youssef, is a Neworld Theatre and Leaky Heaven Circus co-production, directed by Steven Hill and Lois Anderson, with original music by the fabulous Veda Hille. It will be performed on the Cultch’s Historic Theatre stage until February 13.

Before the show I ran into Marcus Youssef in the lobby. I’d met him very briefly last spring after “Ali & Ali 7” so I reintroduced myself and expressed my enthusiasm for attending a Peter Pan-based play. Youssef was glad I was excited but warned me that “Peter Panties” would be an almost unrecognizable version of the story.

I appreciate the warning but I think Youssef is wrong. No, J.M. Barrie’s classic tale of the boy who refuses to grow up does not traditionally include rock ballads, CSI investigations, or Macbeth. But any die-hard Peter Pan fans in the audience would immediately recognize all the important landmarks of the story: the nursery window, Mr. Darling’s job at the bank, Skull rock, Tinkerbell’s jealousy, Hook’s abduction of Wendy, the crushingly sweet moment before innocence is lost. These landmarks may not be “in order”, they may be expanded and exploded, but they are all there. Like the Never Land, anyone who truly understands and loves the story of Peter Pan can find it in McNeil’s version.

The playwright, Niall McNeil, has Down’s Syndrome. This fact is not hidden nor overly advertised. Video footage of McNeil and Youssef’s writing process (shown at various moments in the piece) reveals a deep commitment to expressing McNeil’s version of the play. Nothing I saw or heard that evening seemed cleaned up  or doctored in any way. And the result is totally unpredictable but very funny and always beautiful.

Watching the piece feels like watching children at play. Certain scenes seem distracted. Certain scenes are confusing. Characters move from snippets of this and that, certain lines sound like something a child overheard at the table or on TV. Like a children’s game, the characters are moved by their own strange logic, unfathomable to observers but incredibly important to those in the game. It’s funny for us but deadly deadly serious for them.

The piece puts the “panties” in “Peter Panties” by  moving beyond the simple idea of the boy who won’t grow up to the notion of the way children think about sexuality. They are curious about it, and Peter and Wendy (played by James Long and Sasa Brown) demonstrate a very clean but inventive way to make a family, but sex is not understood in this play, or seen. To understand sex Peter would have to grow up. And in “Peter Panties” it’s not simply that he won’t, it seems he can’t.

Given the constant exploration of the tension that exists in the middle ground between childhood and being an adult,  “Peter Panties” is more true to the original and beloved tale than people realize, or perhaps more than they’re willing to admit. As a worshiper of the J.M. Barrie text, I have no problem adding “Peter Panties” to the shrine.

Props also go to the Bank Dogs and Veda Hille. If there are copies of the “Peter Panties” soundtrack out there I’d love to get my hands on one…any song that dismisses the idea of growing up with the line “F— that, NO MUSTACHE” is my kind of music.

To read more about “Peter Panties”, I recommend checking out Plank Magazine‘s review by Maryse Zeidler as well as Colin Thomas’s review in the Georgia Straight.

If my stellar blogging has managed to convince you to see the show, “Peter Panties” runs at the Cultch until February 13. Tickets can be purchased online from the Cultch or by telephone through the Cultch’s box office at 604-251-1363.

PuSh 2011 – “Floating” at the Arts Club Revue Stage

On Thursday I decided to put the “international” in the PuSh International Performing Art Festival and take in Welshman Hugh Hughes‘ fantastical theatrical event, “Floating“. “Floating” is produced by Hoipolloi, created and performed by Hugh Hughes and Sioned Rowlands, and presented at the Arts Club New Revue Stage January 20 – February 5.

Using slides, flashcards, flip charts, video, magazines, and other helpful props and pieces of furniture, Hughes and Rowlands tell the not-so-true story of Hughes’s homeland, the Isle of Anglesey, breaking away from the Welsh mainland and going adrift in the Atlantic. The set itself consists mainly of the aforementioned props and visual aides, creating an effect not unlike the way a very large supply closet in a community centre might look.

I believe a hoity-toity description of the night I had would be “meta-theatrical”, in that I never once forgot myself. I did not transcend. I was not “swept away in the magic”. Hughes stressed time and again (using a laminated sign he kept in his pocket) the importance of making a connection with us, and the importance of our decision to come to his show. I suppose it would be hard to truly connect to an audience, as individual people, as members of a group, if our emotions were usurped, if we were stolen away to other lands the way I often am at the cinema or at a different kind of show. Hughes and Rowlands talked to us, gave us props to hold and to pass around, noticed what was happening in the audience (and remarked upon it) and never once forgot we were there, or resided in a stage world that did not include us.

We were included to such an extent that after I was not chosen as the lucky audience member to get to use the “clicker box” to keep track of the story’s episodes, I was invited, in the middle of the show, to help Rowlands clean up the water that had been splashed onstage. I thought I was just being humoured because I’d missed out on holding the clicker box so I said (stupidly), “For real?” and Rowlands replied, “Well, if you come up here it will be real.” So I did. The opportunity to be that much more involved with the show was too good to pass up. I took a towel and helped mop up the stage. When I was done I gave a self-conscious little bow, hopped back down to my seat, and the story continued. It pretty much made my night.

The show is clunky, inviting, funny, generous and enchanting (in a very unmagical, “I can see the strings you’re pulling” sort of way). Yes, the story is a fantasy. Yes, the open structure and the acknowledgment of the audience is good-humoured and gracious and made us all feel warm and fuzzy. I got the sense however that lurking underneath this mythologized episode of Hughes’ life is something very true, and incredibly sad, if only we could stop laughing long enough to realize it.

The "harness of oranges"

While I enjoyed the show, and I enjoy the Arts Club as a venue, I do not feel that “Floating” was best served by being presented at the Arts Club Revue Stage. “Floating” is an incredibly intimate and incredibly open piece. The friendly and flexible nature of Hughes and Rowlands is what makes it work. It is not glossy. There are no thousand dollar set pieces or period costuming. I would have loved to see this show in an elementary school basement, or somebody’s garage, or in my living room. I feel this would have been more appropriate to the spirit of the piece, and actually would have enabled me to reach an even higher level of engagement.

There are certain things one expects when they pay $40 to see a show, and certain things one expects when they see a show at the Arts Club. One expects that money has been spent on high-tech effects (like in the Electric Company’s “Tear the Curtain!”), or on a celebrity appearance (like Eric McCormack’s role in “Glengarry Glen Ross”). These productions are impressive and worth every penny but they are distanced from the audience. Another world is being created “onstage” and we are “in our seats” and that is that.

“Floating” asks us to break down that fourth wall and be with Hughes and Rowlands, at heart if not physically, and it is hard to do that when you’re sitting in a structured audience space, feeling a little miffed that you paid $40 for a seat with sight-line issues. On Thursday I also found myself in an audience who did not seem to be, based on the lobby conversation I overheard, “kindred spirits” in terms of the art they enjoy (compared to what I find engaging) and I felt that some of the laughter during “Floating” was patronizing amusement (“Tee hee, what a funny Welshman. What IS he doing?”) rather than actual pleasure. This barred me from the sad truth that I felt was in the piece somewhere, that I wanted so desperately to find, and I believe this kept the audience from being able to make the true connection Hughes tries to emphasize with his work.

I also think that the audience that would be most appreciative of a special piece like “Floating” are those who are turned off by “fancy” theatre and special effects and just want to be in a room with a performance. This type of audience is the least likely to realize that there is a show they should see at the Arts Club, and probably less likely to be able to afford a $40 ticket.

I am not trying to denigrate the Arts Club (or its subscribing audience) in any way. I have seen very good work on the Arts Club stages (“The Black Rider”, “Tear the Curtain!”, “The 39 Steps” to name a few). But these are special treats for me. I choose each show carefully and have always been rewarded by high-tech wizardry, elaborate sets, great music and/or almost impossible physicality. I understand where the extra money goes (to put it in perspective I seldom pay more than $20 for a ticket to anything at any other venue–there were meant to be $25 tickets for this show but those were no longer available when I bought mine). I attend Arts Club productions I am very interested in when I can afford it and I have never been sorry. I am afraid, however, that the choice of venue (and the ticket price that goes with it) for this particular show will keep away the audience that would have appreciated it most of all.

Which is one of the reasons I felt it was important to write this review. For those of you who don’t frequent Arts Club productions, now is the time. Do not be put off by the fancy lobby or the ticket price. Go see “Floating”. It’s the type of art I’ve always wanted to make. It’s the type of art you should see at least once. You have until February 5.