Nirbhaya @ Harbourfront Centre presented by Nightwood Theatre

Yaël Farber's stunning play is one of the most challenging things you will experience. Beginning with  the real life attack and killing of a young woman who innocently boarded a bus in Delhi. From this horrific event, Farber and the cast of women (and one man) created a truth telling wherein the audience don't simply watch, but rather bear witness to the individual stories of objectification, abuse, and fear from each of these individuals. The bravery of the performers not only in sharing their truth, but in the sheer physical and emotional exertion of the performance is matched by the magical staging Farber provides, in which space and time conflate, objects come alive, and we are confronted with the loss of the joy in childhood and youth, which is the result of these terrible events.

The play is difficult to watch. The stories are graphic, and are not staged gingerly; rather we are reminded that these things happen around us, no matter where we are. Interestingly and with great effect, the stories initially are all in India however one of the last takes place in Montreal, a stark and shocking reminder that innocence and hope are at risk of being lost no matter where we are.

I strongly recommend that you seek our a production of this play. Thank you, Nightwood, for bringing this to Toronto.

A brief video is available here:  https://vimeo.com/110472670

A Monologue on the Future of Canadian Theatre

Last week, Martin Julien (at the UofT Centre for Drama) organized a "redux" of the 1973 conversation on the state of Canadian theatre, which followed fairly closely on the "crisis" identified by the Canadian theatres of the late 60s and early 70s, in which it was determined that a major fix was required to create a truly Canadian theatre. These events, of course, are the things we teach in Canadian Drama courses at universities across the country. The Farm Show, Leaving Home, The Ecstasy of Rita Joe; all those great Canadian plays that helped to define us, while companies like the Tarragon, Theatre Passe Muraille, Prairie Theatre Exchange, and more grew from little fringe companies to national creative cultural forces. This period saw the creation of the Arts Council System, providing some serious funding for theatre which previously had been scant. And to some extent, the 1973 conversation, while it identifies continued challenges, has a feeling of "job well done".

(you can view most of that 1973 discussion here: https://vimeo.com/88594280 )

Fast forward to 2015: How much has changed?

Interestingly, a quote from the first conversation strikes me as perfectly descriptive of the current situation; that "there is something wrong with a theatre that has been around for awhile and hasn't grown in any particular direction." Now this sounds horribly reductionist, but in many ways, it is true. Look at what is programmed. Where are the experiments, the gutsy new forms and new theatrical languages that help grow and engage an audience? Where are the directors, playwrights, and to some extent even actors under 35? Does the arts council system still fund in a way that promotes the continued growth of the Canadian theatrical voice, or does it reinforce that which already happens, with the emphasis on "community building." The conversation in 2015, while it raised some valuable points, I felt focused too heavily on how we make money. Yes, we need money to make theatre. But not as much as we might think -- some of the most exciting choices and creative solutions come out of an absence, and this is a challenge we need to take up with vigour, rather than whinge about. There is a certain conflict in the young theatre makers I see today (perhaps myself included). We rail at the system that we work doggedly to break in to, with an odd sense of entitlement to get funding, and yet we shy away from doing the very kind of work that got those now well-established theatre makers noticed in the first place. Paul Thompson, TPM's first AD and artistic leader of The Farm Show creation said it best during the 2015 discussion, and in many ways echoed what he said in 1973; don't worry about the system, make work. Make work with urgency and vividness, and scrape together. Make work outside the rules. Ask for forgiveness rather than permission.

Don't wait for someone else to validate your work. Write it, perform it, create it. If it is well done, someone will notice. If they don't, just get louder.

Now it may sound a little idyllic, but that's the theatre I want for Canada over the next 40 years. Theatre that breaks the rules, makes its own voice, and figures out the details afterward. This is what the theatre makers we study now did. If we want to make a mark, we need to do the same, or else we risk becoming a part of what Jordan Tannahill controversially (but somewhat truthfully) labeled as "boring".

Huff by Cliff Cardinal @ Native Earth Performing Arts

Cliff Cardinal's one-man show Huff isn't an easy night at the theatre, but that is what makes it so important. Beginning on stage with a bag duct-taped over his head, he proceeds through a monologue. This is no stage trick, the bag is really on his head, and we can really see the clear plastic contracting over the contours of his face as he tells us about the game. From this attention-getting starting point, Cardinal weaves through a story of a warrior and his wife, to their eventual children (Don't worry -- he takes the bag off his head before damage is done, but don't think that you're being let off the hook). The story weaves a large cast of characters and voices and perspectives, which aren't always completely clear; at times it was challenging to follow who was speaking, and Cardinal's mainly razor sharp physical and vocal transitions did sometimes lose their specificity. Nonetheless, the story that emerged was at once funny and emotionally shattering.

His playful use of comedy to lull the audience in positions us both as judge and possible saviour, and this is a challenging place to sit for 75 minutes. His jokes veer on the politically incorrect, edging the audience to take stock of when they are more prejudiced than they think they are, and point that judgement inward. Cardinal speaks the unspeakable loudly. And the audience have no choice but to notice.

I would be remiss not to speak of the elegant staging which transformed a small number of props and pieces of furniture into multiple locations and objects, through Cardinal's deft navigation of the world of the play.

This script is difficult. But it is difficult because it lays on the table and shouts all the things that we know in the backs of our minds but won't utter aloud. And it points to the flaws in the system we are all a part of and therefore share responsibility for. I urge you to read or see it if you can.

The show has closed in Toronto but is now embarking on a National tour. There isn't currently a Winnipeg stop, and someone should rectify this immediately.

Adapting Marlowe: Thoughts on Edward II

In the ever-humbling words of Andrew Visnevski, my dissertation tutor at RADA, "you, and Brecht". Indeed, I have, attempted (nay, succeeded?) to adapt Christopher Marlowe's Edward II, which some have described as "the most perfect achievement in dramatic structure". You know, no big deal.

The original is a firecracker of a story, but it is long, and a touch wandering, as Elizabethan plays can be, with altogether too many characters (What, was this some sort of government job-creation scheme??). I set out with the goal of tightening the story lines, and cutting down to 10 actors. Seems easy enough...however, being me, I embarked upon a year of reading and research. I read historical accounts of Edward's real life. I read essays about the play and its impact. I read and watched political dramas. I even read a gargantuan historical reference book accounting for the entirety of the Plantagenet dynasty. Because, you know, research.

What emerged from this research were two things. First, our current political and personal climate is one where the personal and the political are blurred. Young hopeful politicians are edited out of the race due to personal tweets from years ago. The Mayor of Toronto is videotaped and goes viral smoking crack. "Successful" politicians' families are polished and primped, photographed and prepared for the public, to the point where they are cookie-cutter versions of actual human people. But the risk of the messy truth coming out is too great. How alike this is to Edward, who wants to live his life as he chooses, which he should rightfully do, however those around him wish to dictate how he appear, and who he consorts with.

Second, the idea of the actual life of Edward II, son of the myth-making, Scot-fighting Edward Longshanks (whom most know as the vicious English King in Braveheart). Longshanks created myth like none before (and arguably few after for several hundred years). His was a world just like ours, where image and reality were two different things. Into this world is born Edward II, who wasn't meant to be King, and who (at least in the play) doesn't make a great one. His own son, who will become Edward III, becomes the face of what happens when a child is forced to inherit a legacy of image.

So, the themes of the personal becoming public, and of the prince observing a world where he is unsure of his place, took the forefront.

What opens on Thursday is a first go; the company have taken my first draft, continued to tinker with the text and images, and presented a first production. It is our hope that the firecracker that we began with from Marlowe now has an even shorter fuse, and one that compels us to see our own hopes and expectations, not only for rulers, but for those around us in any position of power, reflected.

I'm certainly not finished with this text, and would be immensely grateful for your thoughts should you see the production.

Edward II runs Oct 1-4 at the Asper Centre for Theatre & Film at the University of Winnipeg. Tickets and times at www.theatrebytheriver.com 

How Often Do I Dream? -- Venue #7 (Winnipeg Fringe)

The word "show" doesn't adequately fit what Halifax performer Katie Dorian offers with her one-woman How Often Do I Dream? -- rather "experience" would be much more appropriate. A calm and welcoming presence, Dorian greets each guest at the door, inviting them to explore the installation of objects on the stage before sitting. What follows is a thoughtful and thought-provoking exploration of memory and our ability to control what we do and do not remember. It weaves moments of story and character with moments of Dorian simply talking to the audience, showing us our own vulnerability through her own.

It is truly a magical experience, and for those seeking something a little different this Fringe, not one to miss. My only qualm is that I'd have loved to be unsettled even more as an audience member, with her blurring the line between natural Katie and acting Katie, so we don't know where one ends and the other begins.

Teddy Bears & Tidal Waves - Venue #5 (Winnipeg Fringe)

From the first moment, it is clear that writer/performer Leah Borchert is here to subvert your expectations. She proudly announces she's going to sing a dancing song to get everyone pumped up, then sits with her guitar and sings an awkward song about loneliness. This is just one of the many inventive ways Borchert weaves through the story of a young girl grappling with her own sense of self and the times it is at odds with expectations.

A well-shaped one woman piece, Borchert uses items found in children's play rooms to create theatre, using the props both literally and metaphorically to craft a space of exploration. Within this space she tests our expectations and assumptions for how the character, Genvieve, ought to behave in the world. This is beautifully paralleled with a discussion of the tides and the ocean -- water which also doesn't behave in the way we think it should.

This isn't the show for everyone, but it should be.

How (I think) I've turned a rom-com into a pseudo concept piece

So, as you know, comedies are not usually my thing. So when presented with the opportunity to direct the lovely Clink, a new romantic comedy about youth and expectations, I looked for ways to innovate the means of telling the story. The play centres around 3 scenes in a public place -- the couple's wedding rehearsal and rehearsal dinner, as well as the ceremony. The play has the typical lines interacting with other people in this public space, but lacks the characters to populate it. This sort of trope often gets under my skin, so I thought about how best to overcome that hurdle.

Bingo! If we stage this in a somewhat immersive fashion, using a thrust theatre space to create intimacy, and actually engaging the audience as the side characters in this family, we have a unique opportunity to create an audience experience unlike that which they'll get in a typical proscenium staging, therefore increasing their connection to these younger characters whom some older audience members may not identify with.

Thus the idea to stage Clink in thrust was born.

Now, when most people see and or stage a piece in thrust (at least in Winnipeg) they use the typical proscenium means of actor positioning, and then either just shove the actors really far upstage, or render the side sections "cheap seats". I don't ever feel these are the solution, so rather played with an almost cinematic style of staging, where each audience position will see a face in a given time, but it may not be the face of the actor speaking. It could be the actor who is being spoken to, or spoken about. What results is that depending on where you sit, you may sympathize with a different character in the story, and it may change somewhat for you versus a friend who sat on the opposite side.

Does it work? I think so, based on some audience feedback -- those who were willing to suspend expectation. Curiously the staging asks the audience to do what the characters are asking their families to do -- release expectation and accept them on their own terms, for what may be a bit non-traditional.

Come see for yourself how my little experiment has worked. I assure you the 4 young actors are worth the show, even if you find the experiment failed.

Detailed show times available here, including tonight at 8:45.

The Small Things by Daniel McIvor @ PTE

Prairie Theatre Exchange open the 2015 season with another new play by Canadian Daniel McIvor. The Small Things focuses on a home care worker in a small town and her daughter, who encounter an  older widow. The premise is simple; mother and daughter don't understand one another, encounter the wise and surprising older woman, and learn more about each other and themselves in the process. The execution (both the writing and production) take this premise to a more interesting level, offering unexpected twists from each of the women, and some very funny moments of revelation about our own apprehensions to things we don't think are "for us".

The performances are quite lovely, most notably Ellen Peterson who gives a strong and nuanced performance. Alyssa Watson is also touching as the daughter. Barbara Gordon (and her brilliant voice) are highly enjoyable, the three of which come together nicely under Bob Metcalfe's direction.

My only quibble is that the play felt like it wrapped up entirely too quickly, the final scene feeling a bit too neatly tied up, and (I expect) unintentionally Chekhovian, with the three characters gazing outward and exclaiming about something which is beautiful, oh so beautiful.

Armstrong's War by Colleen Murphy @ RMTC

RMTC open the Warehouse season this year with a new play by Canadian playwright Colleen Murphy. Similar to some of Murphy's previous work (EG The December Man which was a part of PTE's season a few years back), Armstrong's War digs in at a piece of contemporary Canadian experience, this time dealing with a young soldier returned from Afghanistan due to injury. Soldier Armstrong (played with beautiful sensitivity by Justin Otto) meets young Armstrong, a 12 year old Pathfinder aiming to complete her community service badge by reading to a veteran.

The unlikely couple begin, as you would expect, at odds with one another. Otto's soldier wants simply to be left alone, however the plucky young girl, played convincingly by not 12 year old Heather Russell, shows that the elder isn't the only one with steely determination. Russell's character, portrayed from a wheelchair, eventually coaxes the elder soldier into a reluctant, but ultimately rewarding friendship.

The early scenes do come off as stilted; Murphy's play gives very little time for them to be opponents, and in only their second meeting the hardened soldier eases in to a friendship, which to be frank is unbelievable. That said, the play then jumps into the real friction between the characters, when each begins to reveal at first their stories about themselves, and then the real truth. Under Robb Patterson's direction, the pair are well matched, each bringing a strength and vulnerability to these characters.

Opening night energy meant that the piece moved a little bit too quickly, particularly in the set changes, which cleverly employed a stage hand dressed as a hospital orderly. I fully expect the pace to slow as the performers settle in, for as we saw on opening night this was the case, and the latter half sat beautifully.

An important play about the real effects of our international engagements as Canadians and the human cost.

Jabber by Marcus Youssef at Manitoba Theatre for Young People

Marcus Youssef's Jabber was first commissioned in Montreal, and makes its Winnipeg debut with Manitoba Theatre For Young People. It tackles some serious subject matter, all of which is highly relevant to the targeted teen audience; fitting in, gender expectations, cyber bullying, parental strictness, and expressions of love all come in to play. Add to that the additional layer of the young girl being Muslim and moving to a school where she is quite visibly different from her fellow students, causing her to experience racism as one of the manifestations of her "other"-ness, the story becomes red-hot.

Structurally, Youssef adds an interesting element of hope to what might otherwise be a bleak subject. The scenes are set up by the actors, as if playing make believe, stating "lets' say. . . " to build the situation. This occurs heavily at the beginning, and then tapers throughout as the audience grows attached to these possibilities and the choices made within them. The execution comes off a little heavy-handed, as the actors sounded a bit shouty over the backing music in the early scenes, however later instances really worked.

The performances are uneven; Adele Norhona is thoughtful and perceptive as Fatima, the young girl who the story centres on. Kristian Jordan has some lovely moments, however also at times comes across as awkward and un-centred. Cory Wojcik adds some great comic relief, as the teachers, and also a surprise small role as a teen. Unfortunately, the net result is a large stylistic difference in the 3 performances, which causes it to lose some of the cohesiveness that might have helped the play succeed more handily.

That notwithstanding, it is a great story for its intended audience, although parents of the younger 12-13 year old set might find themselves with some things to explain after the show. It definitely skews toward the middle to older edge of the intended bracket.

Fefu and her Friends - Sarasvati Productions @ Ralph Connor House

This enjoyable staging of Maria Irene Fornes' feminist classic Fefu and her Friends by director Hope McIntyre was presented promenade style in the historic Ralph Connor House. The audience began together in a basement room, where we were introduced to the characters, after which groups were split up to see 4 scenes occurring simultaneously. Each group saw the scenes in a differing order, which provided a slightly different colour to the remainder of the play. For example, my group saw the more pedestrian "every day" events first, then the stirring bedroom scene with Kelci Stephenson, leaving my impression to feel that this scene was somewhat disjointed from the rest of the play. In contrast, a friend saw that scene first, and then the less ominous scenes, and found that she heard the screams echo through the other scenes to great effect. This is, of course, one of the downfalls of this sort of production, as perspective can play such a crucial role in the experience.

I also found the promenade to be at once enjoyable, but also frustrating - the lovely volunteers who led us from room to room were helpful, however seeing the other groups move through the house all at once took away from the sense of voyeurism that we might have otherwise felt. The beautiful proximity to the characters' personal moments was broken once we began to move to the next space, encountering our fellow audience members eye to eye. I wonder whether cutting to 3 groups might have limited this somewhat and made for a more immersive experience.

These qualms aside, the cast put forward uniformly strong performances, and captured the period and its (still very relevant) ideas beautifully. On the whole it was an enjoyable production, and given audience enthusiasm for it I hope it will open doors to continued experimentation with the audience-actor relationship in Winnipeg theatre circles.

The Seagull by Anton Chekhov - Manitoba Theatre Centre Warehouse

I could not have been more pleased to catch the opening night performance of The Seagull as my kick-off to this year's Master Playwright festival. Under the clever direction of Krista Jackson, the cast spark and bubble through the story, finding the beautiful notes of humour mixing among the boredom and melancholy that permeates these characters' lives. What I found most notable was the relevance Jackson was easily able to draw out of the text compared to contemporary life; these characters are rendered helpless by their ideal selves, constantly performing the version of themselves they want to be, despite the harsh reality that their lives are not what they make them out to be. Glimmers of recognition rippled through the audience as we recognized this very trait among contemporary society obsessed with material goods, outward appearance, and social media, while never truly connecting. 

The cast are well matched; Sharon Bajer is a comic-tragic gem as she plays the melodramatic actress Irina, while Bethany Jillard's Nina is frighteningly naieve. Tom Keenan's Kostya is strong, although I felt some moments could have used refinement and a more simple touch. 

I would be remiss not to discuss the design, which craftily created differing spaces that were simultaneously lush and minimalist; the outdoor garden scene was particularly notable for its clever use of lighting. And the sound design, with a rock-polka feel definitely contributed positively to reminding us that these characters, although aristocratic, are not the "ideal" humans of tragedy, but the flawed and simple beings who populate the comedy of every day life. 

Best Brothers by Daniel McIvor - Prairie Theatre Exchange

Daniel McIvor brings us a very Canadian story with this tale of two brothers whose mother has died under curious circumstances (crushed by a large drag queen falling off a pride day float) and now the pair must deal with their loss together. The two could not be less alike, with the elder a straight laced hard working type-A architect, married with an ostentatiously expensive flat in Toronto (an entire scene plays out on the subject of his $250,000 kitchen. honestly...). The younger is a gregarious real estate agent, dressed regularly in purple through the show, and the reason for his mother's presence at the pride parade. The third "brother" is their mother's beloved dog - who truly had the mother's love, unlike her less furry sons. 

The piece was snappily directed by Bob Metcalfe with a keen attention to the darkly humourous subject matter, and well performed by the two performers. I would have liked to see more detailed physical work go into the scenes where the sons donned a hat and gloves and "took on" their mother's persona for a series of monologues. While these had potential to be sparkling, they came across as caricatures of the mother, which for me lost some of the impact. 

My overriding feeling, however, was that the play itself appeals to that part of us that wants to live that "ideal" life - the part that wants to write the perfect obituary for the slightly eccentric widowed mother, and whinge over such things as a $250,000 kitchen. But to be fair, I don't think that part of many of us even exists. 

We've struggled for years to create a truly Canadian theatre with our own voice separated from that of the British and American theatres, and I worry that this sort of piece sets us back. 

The Crackwalker by Judith Thompson - Sweet and Salty Collective

This new Winnipeg theatre company burst out of the gates with their premiere production of Judith Thompson's The Crackwalker. Helmed by Debbie Patterson, the cast led the audience through an up close and personal interaction with people normally at an arm's distance from polite middle class company. Thompson's play, which focuses on a mentally challenged prostitute and her boyfriend, along with her abused friend and her abusive boyfriend lays out in plain view that which many of us wish to pretend does not occur; people of base needs making poor choices, all of which get infinitely more complex when a baby is introduced into the mix. Stylistically, the production took many risks which paid off; situated in the basement of a legion in what is generally considered a seedy neighbourhood, the first encounter with the characters is actually outside at a bus stop where the first scene takes place. The audience are then led in and downstairs, giving the feeling that they have truly stepped outside their own world and down into the underbelly. From there, in casual seating, the action takes place around the room, and many bar scenes make the audience feel that they are right there in the middle of things. This immersive quality was highly effective in initially creating a sense of comaraderie, then shocking us as the play transpires into judgement of the characters' actions, immediately followed by a realization of the prejudices which feed those thoughts.

The ensemble, led by Spenser Payne in the leading role, were superb.

If you missed this, you may have missed the best thing to step out on a stage (or orangey brown cacrpet) in Winnipeg this year.

Maple Route by Jeremy Scarth Bowkett - Theatre Incarnate @ PTE Colin Jackson Studio

Theatre Incarnate are known for edgy, sometimes quirky, and often controversial productions, so it may seem strange that the company have worked with local playwright Jeremy Scarth Bowkett to develop a 3 act epic about a moment in Canadian History. The company's departure is our gain, as we get the opportunity to see a shocking and truthful glimpse of the life soldiers lead when they return to civillian live. Under the measured and specific direction of Christopher Sobczak, the play and performers catapult through this challenging time. Things appear normal at first as we see Cam and Alexa in what are clearly the early stages of their re-united marriage, however we quickly see that Cam is a boiling pot with the lid rattling, waiting to burst. Just like that pot, Cam bubbles and eventually explodes, his confusion and rage at what he experienced in the former Yugoslavia rendering him unrecognizable to his wife. With a text this filled with angst, there is the potential for over-doing it, however every moment of Karl Thordarson's portrayal of Cam is truthful. Toby Hughes as Cam's reservist buddy Dean offers a believable lovable hoser, bringing much needed release of tension with his comic timing, and Theresa Thompson's Alexa is a believable troubled but loving army wife.

3 acts may seem long, but the production does not feel that way; rather it feels as if we in the audience are sitting on a runaway railway car, careening toward a mountainside as the play progresses.

This notwithstanding, the script could continue to be developed; some scenes felt they could be trimmed just slightly to achieve an even more explosive effect. Additionally the voice of Alexa wasn't quite as clearly developed as the other two characters, which under less steady direction could be clunky.

That said, this is a production that you need to see. An important story, well told, and pieced together artfully by a fantastic company. Go see this play!

Flood Contro by Marilyn Anne Campbelll - FemFest 2013

FemFest prides itself on presenting new work by Canadian Female artists each year, and Marilyn Anne Campbell is definitely a playwright I am grateful to FemFest for bringing our attention to.

This is a smart and funny script, with lovely dark undertones, which focuses on Gina and Ray, two adults who meet on a bridge with the common intention of killing themselves. As the play unfolds, we identify with the hilarious neuroses of each of these characters, whether it is Ray's fear of turning 40 without having kissed a girl, or Gina's obsession with the location of coasters and ensuring things are completed. Hope McIntyre's direction brings a lovely ebb and flow to the text, matching the many pieces of river imagery, meandering smoothly in and out of the conversations with a strong sense of truth. And the performances by Elena Anciro and Grant Burr bring an enjoyable life to the story.

My only quibble is that I would like more! Coming in at 37 minutes, I only just started to feel I got to know them, and the wrap up in the final minutes felt quite quick.

http://sarasvati.ca/fem-fest-showsflood-control/ 

Review - The Brink by Ellen Peterson @ Prairie Theatre Exchange

PTE open this seasons with their 140th new Canadian Play, this time coming from playwright in residence Ellen Peterson. The Brink tells the story of a family in Niagara Falls, Ontario, struggling to keep their printing business as well as their hope afloat. The story is set to the backdrop of the moon landing, and beautifully pairs this moment of intense optimism for the younger generation, Pat (played with nuance by RobYn Slade) while the older generation (a fabulous Jan Skene and heartbreaking Steven Ratzlaff) whose hope is all but gone as they are stuck in an endless cycle of flashbacks to moments of their youth.

Peterson's strength is dialogue; the razor-sharp, spitfire back and forth between the 3 members of the family, with its natural overlap and interruption is unbelievable. The constant unfinished sentences, pausing to breathe when a character (normally Pat) realizes no one is listening capture the essence of the family's dynamic.

The overall feeling of the need to push forward, to change and not be tied to the past pervades the play. The young characters do not experience the flashbacks, and are therefore the ones able to break free.

The only weakness for me, were the flashback scenes for Jim's character; at times these felt a bit long, although the character information was all necessary and moved the plot forward. I wonder whether it was the device of having the characters melt into their new bodies slowly, rather than snap into that world which caused this feeling. I would be curious to read the script to see whether this feeling can be eliminated by a different directorial choice.

PTE have developed a reputation for premiering strong Canadian drama, and this play can easily be added to the cannon.

Downfall - Death of the Vancouver Playhouse

For those outside the Canadian theatre bubble, this might require some explanation. March 9th, the Vancouver Playhouse, a regional Canadian theatre established in 1962, announced it would be closing. Plagued with debt, the company felt they were unable to overcome this and the board voted to shut things down. As one might imagine, this has caused outcry from the theatre community across Canada; anger at arts cuts from the current Conservative government that span back years, mountains of hypotheses on the cause of this downfall , and petitions circulating to try to save the company, soliciting donations. I do not disagree with a single one of these.

That said, I feel that the thing that is going unsaid (or at least not loudly enough) is that many professional regional companies in Canada are not creating work that gives people a reason to go. In an age where Hollywood and Television do what they do so well, and suck people in to paying upwards of $13 for a movie theatre ticket to see the latest blockbuster, theatre interest has waned, particularly among the aging middle-class bourgeois Canadian public. Now what has the Canadian Mainstream's response to this been, in the face of large commercial successes like those seen by DanCap and Mirvish in Toronto (the Canuck equivalent of the West End or Broadway)? It has been to try continually to produce the mega-budget, big-star blockbuster, but on the stage. This has meant season after season full of adaptations from films, or staging of plays that have been made to films, for maximum opportunity for success. Rather than engaging with what makes theatre essential, as well as what makes it fundamentally different from a moviegoing experience, theatre in Canada has attempted to be "just like the big kids".

I would like this to be a call to arms for my fellow young theatremakers in Canada; With our generation, lets fix things, not by going with formulae and safe but mediocre successes, but by really challenging why on earth we make this stuff in the first place. Lets make interesting and new work that challenges the audience and makes them want more. What stories must be told in the theatre? What makes our medium, one that has existed for 2000 years different and necessary? And why should people come see our work?

When we can begin to attempt to answer these questions in our work, we'll have begun to do something truly worthwhile. I know it is in there.

Meditations on Identity

Last night's scene study class was a further extension of our discussion of tragedy as an identity-creation machine, this time focused on the creation of a National identity. Using Yeats' work at the turn of the 20th century as a starting point, we looked at the ways in which theatre and theatrical events (national ceremony, ritual, sport) can help to shape the identity of a nation and provide the values on which that nation define itself. This reciprocal, circular relationship is a confusing one, for arguably if done well, the image in the art reflects the image of the nation while simultaneiously propagating it.

I often find these discussions particularly engaging in their focus on post-colonial nations and their struggle to create an identity after the absence of the oppressor. This is fascinating to me, coming from Canada, as a result of our unique situation. Canada has only been a nation since 1867, and has primarily been a nation of immigrants. The very fact that our first peoples were shipped off, forced into assimilation, is only in recent years with the residential schools inquiries and commissions beginning to come into light as an issue for artistic contention. But for the rest of us, for the immigrant Canadians, the sense of identity has always had a necessary duality. We are at once Canadian, and our family's country of origin - Irish, Ukrainian, Polish, German, what have you. Even myself, a third and fourth generation Canadian, identify as a Ukrainian-Canadian. We identify strongly with the histories of our families, while also engaging with the future of our nation; that nation which was shaped by luminaries such as Pearson and Trudeau. My generation, the young thinkers and artists of today, are the first to have grown up in a Canada which had this view of our nation for the entirety of our lives, and this bodes well for the creation of an increasing amount of theatre that truly has a Canadian voice.

I found it interesting that in a brief discussion of the "global" citizen, versus the Nationalist citizen, our tutor raised Robert Lepage's theatre as an example of Global theatrical values - of duality. In fact, this is a distinctly Canadian identity, in the case of Lepage a French-Canadian identity, but one that echoes for all Canadians' sense of duality. Fascinating that the identity of a nation formed by thinkers like Pearson et al would be picked up as a global identity; I suspect he would be proud. I know I am. I just hope we can live up to it.

Berthe - Michel Tremblay

This quick little play packs in a multitude of ideas in only a few short pages. Berthe is the ticket girl at a late night cinema, the play is her monologue on the state of her life, lost dreams, and confinement by expectation. She is literally confined within the ticket booth, however this booth is a metaphor for her stagnant existence and inability to realize the dreams she enacts so vividly through the play. Interrupted only by the monotonous droning of the doorman with the same words over and over, she wrestles with her status stuck in between expectation and disappointment.

A lovely short one-hander that really illustrates what happens to us when our dreams die.