Tag: theater

A Toe-Tapping War

On March 23, 2010

“WAR! HUH! WHAT IS IT GOOD FOR? ABSOLUTELY NUTHIN’!”

So sang Edwin Starr, and later Bruce Springsteen. War is hell, yes, but how do you translate that onstage without pummeling your audience with a pile of sloganeering and agitprop? British playwright Joan Littlewood confronted this question when she set out to write a work about World War One. Back in 1963, memories of “the Great War” -to say nothing of WW2 -were still fresh, and there were plenty of veterans about to share tales. Littlewood was never exactly a conformist; determined to go to America as a young woman, she tried to walk from Liverpool to the sea dock, but collapsed after 130 miles. Having already directed and starred in the well-received British premiere of Brecht‘s Mother Courage and Her Children, Littlewood, like many theatre artists of her time, was sick of the chest-strutting proud model of British military excellence in the First World War, but seeking a creative way of staging her ideas.

Working with longtime love Gerry Raffles, radio producer Charles Chilton, and the rest of her theatre company, Oh, What A Lovely War made its debut in March 1963. The work, carefully monitored by government officials, was a huge hit and opened on Broadway the following year, where it garnered four Tony nominations. It’s unique for the ways it combines dance, song, drama, clowning, and vaudeville. Yes, you read that right: clowns are in a war drama. What starts out as an innocent celebration turns into something considerably darker by the piece’s end. Deeply theatrical and unrepentantly musical, generations of directors have longed to staged it, and now Toronto’s Soulpepper Theatre gives it a go, using current members of their Academy to flesh out Littlewood & Co’s vision. Soulpepper Artistic Director Albert Schultz has staged the piece with an eye to times past and present, using white Pierrot-like costumes and the Academy’s considerably musical talents to create a heightened world that seems strangely familiar.

I had the chance to interview cast and Academy members Raquel Duffy and Brendan Wall about the challenges of the production, as well as the play’s incredible staying power.

What was the hardest part of Oh, What A Lovely War? It isn’t ‘realistic’ in any sense and yet you have to bring a lot of truth to the roles you play.

Brendan: One of the most difficult things for me to embrace with this play is the fact that we all play very particular –and sometimes isolated -pieces of an elaborate puzzle. The whole picture and its effect on the audience is something that I’m not ever fully aware of. This is a show, perhaps more so than any other, where I have no idea what it’s like to sit in the audience and experience from beginning to end. I’d love to watch this show.

Raquel: The most challenging part of the piece for me was working out the technical aspects of transitions – both on a physical level and mentally. Jumping from scene to scene, all of which carry very specific and varying energies or, for lack of a better word, ‘moods’, and not letting the effect of one spill into the other. The convention of us all being a group of “performers” helped me deal with the fact that we aren’t attempting to make the piece realistic as much as we are attempting to tell the story as clearly as possible.

What sort of direction did Albert Schultz give you in terms of balancing the music with the work’s other elements?

Brendan: Albert and Marek Norman (the show’s Musical Director) had a beautiful working dynamic. Both aspects of the storytelling -the music and scenes –influenced each other. I always felt like I was in good hands. I think I play a half a dozen characters and a half a dozen instruments in this show, and I certainly don’t stop moving once the curtain goes up. There are moments where a scene is being played out and a single chord is struck and it crystallizes the whole essence of what’s going on. The play grew out of these songs.

Raquel: Both (Albert and Marek) wanted the songs sung by the soldiers to be less ‘musical’ -by that I guess I mean the songs still have historical context or a sense of the period. We did a lot of research regarding how these songs came about. It was very common for the soldiers to sing while spending endless hours in the trenches; for example, the song set to “Auld Lang Syne” only has the lyrics “we’re here because we’re here because we’re here, because we’re here.”

How timely a piece did you think this is? Littlewood’s work feels very tame by today’s standards, even quaint. How did you give the work immediacy?

Brendan: I have two young sons and I’d like them to live in a world where the notion of war is something that is only seen on a stage as a quaint piece of theatre from bygone days. I can’t think of a timelier piece. As for the show being tame or quaint, yes it is at times -that’s an important part of the show. A play that screams at the top of its lungs about how war’s is bad is not telling us anything new. I think we always have to be mindful in the theatre that we’re here to entertain first and that only by doing that can’t we hope to have any effect on our audience.

Raquel: In my head I hear the phrase, ‘Lest We Forget’. It was very different from the war we are presently engaged in and yet there are a number of parallels that I believe the audience will recognize. The piece was formed through a collective and we’ve embraced that through all of us playing various instruments, making the gunshot noises, moving the set…I think the idea of a group of players trying to tell the story of that war through the convention of a music hall lends itself to being as present as possible.

Who is this for in the 21st century?

Brendan: First and foremost, this play is for anyone who wants to see a great ensemble of artists working and playing together to create an entertaining evening of theatre. This play is also for my two little boys who, at the age of five and two, know too much about war in that they know anything at all.

Raquel: We lost our last Canadian World War I Vet while we were rehearsing this project. He spent his life trying to keep the history of that War alive. I feel this piece carries his legacy forward.

Oh, What A Lovely War runs through April 2nd. Check the Soulpepper website for details.

Boldly Going…

By Catherine Kustanczy

On March 16, 2010

In opera

The Canadian Stage Company announced its 2010-2011 season this morning. Its Artistic and General Director, Matthew Jocelyn, is embracing a new approach for the company, one he hopes will help to re-define the company and its mandate over the 21t century; one might even suppose Jocelyn, Canadian-born but mainly French-employed, is trying to re-define the Canadian theatrical landscape with his bold, unique choices. In looking over the release , there’s something undeniably refreshing about this kind of vision: worldly, unapologetic, broad and arty. It remains to be seen whether Toronto audiences will embrace this vision, but it’s nonetheless heartening to see this kind of chutzpah within the cliquey world of Toronto theatre.

Jocelyn aims to “redefine Canadian Stage as a home not only for great Canadian and international plays, but also for trans-disciplinary theatre that pushes the boundaries of convention and reflects a resolutely 21st century aesthetic.” That aesthetic includes featuring the work of Quebec native -and theatre visionary – Robert LePage in the 2010-2011 season. LePage’s The Andersen Project will be making its Toronto debut in October; according to the release, it’s “a modern-day multimedia fairytale” that is based on the work of Hans Christian Andersen. LePage? Andersen? Sounds like all kinds of mad, manic magic. I was bowled over by the artistry LePage brought to The Nightingale at the Canadian Opera Company last October, and though The Andersen Project isn’t new (it was commissioned by Denmark in 2005 to mark the 200th anniversary of the famous writer’s birth), there’s always something so inspiring and fresh about seeing LePage’s work in Toronto. It feels as if he’s bringing a European sensibility that Toronto, for all its talk of being a “world-class city”, is still deathly afraid of truly embracing.

Come November is the multimedia production Studies in Motion: The Hauntings of Eadweard Muybridge by the Electric Company Theatre, featuring the poetic choreography of accomplished Canadian dancer Crystal Pite. Quebecois dancer Edouard Locke will also be part of the Canadian Stage season with his grond-breaking La La La Human Steps company in as-yet-untitled work set to premiere in May 2011. (You might recall La La La worked with David Bowie in the 1980s.) I love the fearless combination of dance and drama here; again, it’s a European approach to theatre (and its integration of other artforms) that is indicative of the kind of worldly thinking Jocelyn’s experience (mainly with Atelier du Rhin) entails.

That experience also lends itself to reaching out to Canada’s national arts organization. Thus, the National Arts Centre‘s English Theatre head honcho Peter Hinton arrives in 2011 to direct Saint Carmen of the Main by Michel Tremblay; the work is a co-production with the NAC and runs February 7th to March 5th. Canadian dynamo Jennifer Tarver will also be directing for Canadian Stage. She might be best-known outside of Canadian theatre circles for her celebrated production of Beckett’s craggily moving work Krapp’s Last Tape featuring Brian Dennehy that ran in Stratford and then Chicago. Come April 2011, she’ll be helming the Canadian premiere of The cosmonaut’s last message to the woman he once loved in the former Soviet Union, by David Greig. The work was first produced at the Edinburgh Festival in 1999 and went on to run at the La Jolla Playhouse in San Diego and the Donmar Warehouse in London. Now there’s a play with passport cred to burn.

Along with smaller productions at the Berkeley Street Theatre (the smaller stage used by the Canadian Stage Company) involving local companies like Nightwood and Studio 180, the Berkeley will also host a Spotlight On Italy series March 15th through 26th, 2011. Programming is totally intriguing, and includes many works that won’t be familiar to Canadian theatre audiences. Nunzio and La Festa, two award-winning plays from Sicily’s Compagnia Scimone Sframeli will see productions, along with the dance theatre of la natura delle cose by Florence’s Compagnia Virgilio Sieni, whose Artistic Director, Virgilio Sieni, has twice received the UBU prize, Italy’s top theatre award.

“The Spotlight Festival,” notes Jocelyn, “demonstrates (the Canadian Stage Company’s) commitment to showcasing some of the most extraordinary international companies that challenge the classical notions of theatre.” I can hear some Canadian arts types moaning that we already have companies that do that -but how much more can they -and we -learn by including the works of others within our own diaspora? Culturally, they inform our “Canadian-ness” every bit as much as works by Michel Tremblay, David French, Judith Thompson, Florence Gibson, George F. Walker, and the myriad of other playwrights who are studied and produced across this country. If the 1960s and 70s were all about establishing a distinctly Canadian voice, the 21st century is about seeing how much that voice can sing with other voices -in harmony, or not. Will audiences go for it? That remains to be seen. But it’s surely good to see Jocelyn’s vision of the Canadian Stage Company going above and beyond the predictable, the safe, and the well-worn. It’s time for something new. Welcome to the world, Toronto. I think you’re going to like it.

Eternal Factory

By Catherine Kustanczy

On March 15, 2010

In video

Toronto’s Factory Theatre announced their 41st season today, with works by puppeteer Ronnie Burkett, playwrights Anusree Roy and Adam Pettle, and the Factory’s Ken Gass featured as part of the program.

Also included is the incredible Eternal Hydra by Anton Piatigorsky. I loved this Crow’s Theatre piece when it premiered in Toronto last spring. As the video piece I hosted and co-produced (for Lucid Media) demonstrates, Piatigorsky’s play is challenging, but it doesn’t abandon emotional interaction entirely, either. Rather, it nicely balances the head and the heart within a fascinating, Borges-esque piece of existential drama that touches on questions of creativity, authenticity, and identity. Eternal Hydra won a bevy of Dora Awards (Toronto’s equivalent to the Tonys) back in June, and for those who didn’t get the chance to see it at Buddies In Bad Times Theatre last year… well, get thee to Factory. It’s going to be a great season.

Think, Do, Talk

By Catherine Kustanczy

On March 9, 2010

In opera

So many things can drive friends apart: time, maturity, distance. Sometimes people grow apart gradually; other times, they are driven apart, taking refuge in their respective intransigent poles. Either way, it’s always sad. Canadian playwright Michael Nathanson has dramatized this split with his 2007 play, Talk, currently running in Toronto at the St. Lawrence Centre for the Arts. The production is a thoughtful, insightful piece of theatre that is deceptive for its naturalistic style and chatty structure. Produced by the Harold Green Jewish Theatre Company, the work is both confrontational (in that you’ll be forced to re-examine your own beliefs) and inspirational (in so far as you may want to call up long-lost friends). In Nathanson’s work, it’s not so much circumstance but politics that drives a wedge between two men who’ve been friends for 18 years. A simple -or not-so-simple, depending on your viewpoint –word used by Gordon’s new girlfriend causes a rift that leads to a wide, seemingly insurmountable chasm. The varying reactions of the pair to the word’s use proves to be the unraveling of the friendship. Was it inevitable? Was the political situation of the Middle East the sleeping leviathan lying between the pair, awaiting its summons in the form of a (never-seen) woman?

Nathanson doesn’t answer these questions, but he does give us clues. Talk, for all its talking, is not merely a tough examination of Mid-East politics; it’s a close exploration of the ebbs and tides of the relationship between two men, of ways hidden currents move and shift through time and experience. The playwright muses on what might’ve occurred had Josh, the Jewish character, chosen not to express his concerns when he was able to, at the pair’s initial reuniting following Gordon introducing his lady love. As we see in small, simple gestures, even if Josh had decided to hold his tongue, the friendship would still come apart, albeit in a more pernicious, painfully slow way.

Director Ted Dykstra inherently understands the heart that beats behind the angry, passionate political arguments; it’s a heart that the two men share, but which is destined to crack in two. With carefully considered blocking, a simple, elegant design and dramatic, clear lighting (both by Steve Lucas), the characters’ various feelings and reactions (expressed both inwardly and outwardly) are expressed as the two try to hammer out common ground while, on some level, knowingly smashing the continental coastlines of difference. Performers Kevin Bundy (as Gordon) and Michael Rubenfeld (as Josh) give genuinely passionate, moving performances as the two longtime buddies whose conflicts are both personal and political in nature.

Nathanson, who is also a producer with the Winnipeg Jewish Theatre Company, spoke about the writing of the play in the post-performance discussion I attended, and while he shied away from admitting the play is based on actual experience, he did say its events were inspired by the fall-out he and a friend had over an email that he’d been sent after 9/11. The incident forced him to consider what comes to be a major thematic motif of the play: “At what point, as a Jew, do I say, ‘You can’t do this’?” The choice that faces Josh -to speak or not to speak -is one that haunts the entire work, and it gives Talk a certain bittersweet flavor that’s similarly reflected in the choice to leave Gordon’s new girlfriend unseen. This technique renders the character (and her perceived influence over Gordon) all the more powerful, if equally mysterious; how much is Josh’s outrage political, and how much is pure jealousy? As Nathanson reminded us in the discussion, director Dykstra approached the work as a love story, which it unquestionably is: the deep vein of friendship that binds, however, also divides. It’s a line neither man seems willing to step across by the work’s end. You’ll leave thinking not only about the world politics that can -and do -divide people, but about personal politics that leave terrible scars.

Talk runs at the Jane Mallett Theatre / St. Lawrence Centre in Toronto through March 20th.

Folk, Present And To Come

By Catherine Kustanczy

On March 4, 2010

In interviews

Future Folk is a challenging title; it implies a vision to the future, but also a glance to the past. The play, now on at Toronto’s Theatre Passe Muraille, centers on the lives of Filipino nannies who come to work in Canada. Produced by Canadian company Sulong Theatre Collective, the show is a reminder of the silent caregivers who populate households and often endure terrible treatment in order to support their own families back home. The word “sulong” means “battle cry” in Tagalog and is a suitable match for the show’s angry undercurrent; it’s described as a piece that “shouts, wails and screams on behalf of brown women everywhere“.

Great, but there’s been some criticism that the play is too agitprop in its depiction of live-in nannies’ struggles in Canada. One Canadian newspaper recently ran two interesting pieces contrasting actual nanny reactions with their theater critic’s view; it was a good insight into the ways celebrated slice-of-life theater isn’t always reflected with exuberant critical acceptance. Not that Catherine Hernandez cares.

Sulong Theatre Collective’s co-founder wrote Future Folk without worrying over whether balance was being served. As she told me (below), balance and truth aren’t always friends. Hernandez is a feisty one-woman theater dynamo whose first play, Singkil, was nominated for an astounding seven Dora Awards. She’s worked with a bevvy of celebrated Canadian theater companies, including fuGEN, Buddies in Bad Times, Native Earth, Aluna, and many others. Hernandez set out with the intention of challenging stereotypes and shaking people out of their comfort zones -all while remaining respectful (read: loving) toward the original women’s stories.

How much of Future Folk is based on direct experience?

All of it is based on direct experiences of women we interviewed. Most of these women were still in the caregiver program, others had just completed it.

Any specific inspirations?

The use of Filipino folk arts to tell the story of Filipinos now. I realized there were so many “harvest” dances in our dance canon. I wanted to see if we could use the same vocabulary to tell the story of our women harvesting money for their families back in the Philippines.

What was the main challenge in theatricalizing nanny experiences?

First, it was actually speaking to the caregivers. I would book time to speak with them on their day off, only to have their employers cut their day off due to their own busy lives. Next, was to be absolutely honest about our -as in the collective’s -position of privilege. We had to remember that we were not them. Although I worked as a caregiver, I was never live-in, nor was I a mother at that time wondering about the safety of my children while caring for others. When we admitted this to ourselves, we were able to delve deeper into their experiences with curiosity and open-hearts instead of assumptions.

How do you balance the bad experiences with the good ones in the work?

This is one of the major comments about our work: the balance. Hmmm… I think it’s telling when every caregiver I met has complaints about the power struggle with their employer. It’s even more telling when people outside of the caregiving community and those who are employers bring up the “good” side. What it means to me is that there is an obvious disconnect with the realities of these women. I had a conversation with playwright Maja Ardal about this, and she said, point-blank, that it matters little to show balance. What matters is giving voice to the voiceless. These women are definitely voiceless. So balance be damned. I am not in the business of making people feel okay about themselves. I am in the business of helping people be self-critical. Balance doesn’t do that. Truth does.

Who did you write this for?

I wrote this for both the caregivers and for those outside of the caregiving community. For caregivers, I wanted them to see their story onstage and to know that their lives were remembered and honoured by someone… I wrote this for the average Canadian who might have a range of emotions seeing the show, anything from “I’m not like this” to “These women are so lucky for the chance to be here -why complain?”

How have you felt at various nannies’ reactions?

It has been overwhelming. When we first performed a ten-minute excerpt at the Kultura Filipino Arts Festival at the Kapisanan Centre, we had two caregivers in the audience. They came backstage sobbing and thanking us for portraying them. We knew we had to continue, no matter what. When we perform on March 7th, we will be performing for free to a house full of caregivers. That’s when I feel our job will be done.

What do you hope audiences come away with?

I want each audience to come home that night, look right inside their hearts and ask themselves what they truly think about migrant workers. They’ll probably be surprised by what they find. We, as the collective certainly were. Throughout this process of development, I can’t tell you how much respect I have gained for these people. I will be forever humbled.

Future Folk runs at Theatre Passe Muraille through March 13th.

What Goes Around

By Catherine Kustanczy

On March 1, 2010

In opera

‘WHO IS RESPONSIBLE?‘

These simple, powerful words could be a Holzer truism, a piece of graffiti, a philosophical query, or all three.

It’s a sign worn by actor Peter Donaldson, playing a woebegone father in Canadian playwright George F. Walker‘s latest work, And So It Goes. The work revolves around Ned and Gwen, a couple who must deal with their mentally ill daughter’s demise and eventual death; their downfall is where they come to know themselves and one another in new, sometimes disturbing ways. It’s a powerful, moving piece of work with solid performances by its cast of four, who are directed with great sensitivity by Walker himself.

The title of the work is a reference to Kurt Vonnegut, who figures into the happenings by way of being the imaginary mentor to first Gwen (played by Martha Burns) and later Ned, as the play progresses. Vonnegut’s saying from Slaughterhouse Five -“so it goes” -is, according to The A.V. Club, notable for “how much emotion—and dismissal of emotion—it packs into three simple, world-weary words that simultaneously accept and dismiss everything.” The character of Vonnegut (played by Jerry Franken) is especially poignant considering the writer’s own son was schizophrenic; the “sh*t happens”-esque stance takes on a whole new meaning when placed within the context of the dark world Walker creates.

The playwright is known for his gritty depictions of down-and-out people in desperate circumstances (the Suburban Motel series is a good example), but I’ve always found much of his work to have an equal acidly dark humour. None of that humour figures into And So It Goes, however. The work is as much about survivors as it is victims; incidents are presented as simple facts of life, with minimal fanfare, for maximum emotional effect. Director Walker has wisely chosen to use music (by John Roby) strategically, allowing actors time within the wide, long parameters of the Factory Theatre‘s stage to reveal a deeper emotional reality. Daughter Karen (Jenny Young), sitting saucer-eyed, frightened, and dirty, looks especially alone in such an environment; the effects of her illness on her -and her family – is made especially visceral. The need for connection couldn’t be made more plain.

The role of connection figures prominently when the Karen returns in the second act, along with Vonnegut, offering insights, observations, and… silence. She simply hears Ned and Gwen out, and that’s important. If The A.V. club is right, that Vonnegut’s “so it goes” saying “neatly encompasses a whole way of life“, it’s also accurate to note how that encompassing involves acceptance, because that’s the work’s overarching theme. By the play’s end, the once-affluent pair have accepted their daughter’s passing, their role in her demise (in that they could not prevent it), and their current circumstances. Who is responsible? Everyone and no one, all at once and nevermore. So it goes.

And So It Goes has been held over by popular demand at the Factory Theatre to March 6th.

Creature Discomfort

By Catherine Kustanczy

On February 6, 2010

In opera

I’ve been thinking a lot about violence: that which we inflict upon each other, in large and small ways, and that which we direct upon ourselves. Every night the television news is filled with searing images of suffering and pain. reminders of the awful damage us humans are capable of, through snarky opportunism, willful malevolence, or some sad combination of both.

Canadian playwright Judith Thompson has never shied away from these issues. The award-winning playwright has spent her career exploring the myriad of ways we inflict violence on those we love, those we hate, and those we don’t even know. Her first play, 1980’s The Crackwalker, was a gritty examination of the lives of four disturbed people, all but forgotten by mainstream society; 1997’s Palace of the End was a triptych of haunting monologues delivered by damaged souls who’d been affected by the Iraq war. Thompson, who is a two-time recipient of a Governor-General’s Award for drama and has been awarded the Order of Canada, isn’t afraid to ask tough questions around morality and intolerance in her work, nor does she shy away from the depiction of hurts, physical, mental, spiritual and psychological, and their related conequences. Thompson’s latest work, Such Creatures, takes the simple premise of two women at two different points in history, recounting their tales; one is a Holocaust survivor, the other an Aboriginal street tough. I had the opportunity to speak with Thompson to exchange ideas around the inspiration for the work, the connection between the two women, and the real-life stories that fuel her creative world. Thompson’s responses are still so inspiring to me; I’ve highlighted my favourite bits.

Was there a specific event that inspired Such Creatures?

Many moments and stories inspired the play, (like) Reena Virk and others like her. I have realized that many young girls live in a kind of war zone almost as dangerous as the one so many young men live in, but they don’t make the news… I teach acting, and one of the exercises I assign is for the students to interview someone out of their normal social sphere, and then bring a monologue to present to the class; a student from outside of Ottawa brought a letter given to her by an elderly neighbour. The letter was written to her by her sister, from the prison within Auschwitz, where she was waiting to be hung for her part in the Auschwitz revolt in which Crematorium 4 was blown up. When I heard this letter, something inside me shifted. I knew I would revisit the letter. I was so inspired by the courage of these young girls.

Why did you choose two female protagonists?

Many male heroes have been celebrated in drama, but there are so many unsung female heroes and martyrs, and these girls… well, both are heroic, because they face violence with bravery, and one especially takes huge risks to benefit others. They have nerves of steel, sharp extraordinary intellects, and they are both only fifteen! I want to look at women who are leaders, and fighters, women who will never ever give up or surrender their beliefs.

What do you think binds these women together, ultimately?

We carry our history in our bodies, and deep in our psyches, we carry every woman’s experience. We stand on the shoulders of the women who lived before we were born, whatever race or religion we are. Preparing to fight a gang of girls to the death is facing death; it has come down to the very same thing that the girl at Auschwitz faced every day. We are always underestimated, valued mainly for our attractiveness to men. These girls are so so so much more than that -and so are we all!

Such Creatures runs at Toronto’s Theatre Passe Muraille through February 7th.

Susan Coyne: Her Own Peer

By Catherine Kustanczy

On February 1, 2010

In opera

There are some plays I’m absolutely drawn to, Hamlet being a notable example. I love the haunted nature of the title character, the complicated nature of his relationships, and the ways he deals with (or avoids) various elements thrown up at him. Like Hamlet, Henrik Ibsen‘s Peer Gynt has a compelling main character and a complex set of relationships -but the big difference is the sprawling, massively ambitious storyline. Most people associate Ibsen with serious, hard-edged reality-based works like Hedda Gabler and The Master Builder. Yet before these works, Ibsen wrote his five-act play in verse, and, to quote one critic, “in deliberate, liberating disregard of the limitations that the conventional stagecraft of the 19th century imposed on drama.” Wow. Ambitious? Yes. Brave? Yes. A little bit crazy? Perhaps.

Indeed, Peer Gynt has presented its fair share of challenges in live production; many versions are long, or else condensed so thoroughly that they risk losing their original Norwegian folk flavour. Ingmar Bergman helmed a five-hour version in 1957 (and didn’t use the famous Grieg music named after the work), while Christopher Plummer presented a radically-reduced concert version in 1993 (and did use the Grieg music, natch). There’s a myriad of reasons the work is so challenging: numerous location chances, an enormous cast of characters, and fantastical elements that reference fairy tales, religion, and the nature of time itself. Like I wrote, Peer Gynt was, and remains, ambitious, brave, and a little bit crazy.

So it was with much intrigue that I recently looked over a press release for a new, streamlined production of the work, staged by The Thistle Project; adapted for two actors by director Erika Batdorf and the company, the production features playwright, actor, and author Susan Coyne alongside Thistle’s co-founder Matthew Romantini. I wanted to find out Coyne’s ideas about this unique work, perhaps in the hope that she’d be able to furnish me with a little more clarity in trying to understand the nature of Peer. I soon learned she brings not only an actor‘s dedication and commitment to the role, but a writer‘s intuitive understanding of the language, and how it informs the visual elements within the work. The Thistle Project’s production of Peer Gynt promises to be one of the most memorable experiences of the Toronto theatre season this year.

How do you approach the role? You’re playing what some might characterize as a “typically male” role. What is it about Ibsen’s hero that ultimately renders him genderless?

The character is very male in the traditional sense and we aren’t changing that. However, I”m not playing him in drag. I like to think it’s similar to what actresses quite often did in the nineteenth century- playing the “breeches part” without having to explain why. The play reveals new facets when you can get away from some of the off-putting surface elements of Ibsen’s original script (which was probably not written to be performed at first)- like the character of Solveig, who seems a kind of caricature on the page. (She is) the maiden pure who waits her whole life in a castle tower for her hero to return to her. What attracts me to Peer is his energy and his imagination. He’s a dreamer and a doer, though he lacks the capacity to look at himself and his actions.

By producing it in a church, there is a lot of spiritual background brought in. Intentional?

We wanted to do the play in a non-traditional space. Again, this is a way of looking the play from another angle. The play has a very spiritual core and we wanted a space that would provide it with a kind of resonance- as it happens we found one in the Church of the Holy Trinity, which is a beautiful space with a very progressive history and deep roots in the downtown community where it sits.

How does the movement-based, experiential nature of the piece complement Ibsen’s writing?

Peer Gynt is very unlike the plays by Ibsen that most of us are familiar with: A Doll’s House, Hedda Gabbler, Ghosts. It is a kind of folk tale, very earthy and wildly inventive and mixing all kinds of styles of theatre. So we are doing the play with only two actors, me and the brilliant Matthew Romantini, who plays every other character.

How much of your own writing background helped in the streamlining of the work?

Erika Batdorf is the real force behind this adaptation, which involves cutting a play down from about four hours to something like ninety minutes. She knows the play intimately, and has been involved with several productions, and lived with it inside her for many years. The rest of us have had a hand in reworking bits and pieces as we’ve found some stumbling blocks in the text.

What does Peer Gynt have to say to us in the 21st century?

First of all it’s a very entertaining story, and surprisingly funny. It is the story of Everyman‘s journey through life- the struggle between our flawed, selfish, human desires and the part of us that might be called our higher self- the self we seldom allow to have the upper hand. I think it’s an old, old tale, and one that never goes out of style.

Peer Gynt runs to February 21st at Toronto’s Church of the Holy Trinity. More information is at the Facebook Event Page.

Photos by Lindsay Anne Black

Power Play

By Catherine Kustanczy

On January 20, 2010

In opera

Power is rapidly becoming a big issue in the Haiti crisis: who rules amidst chaos? It’s clear no one wants to return to the old system. But what kind of change hath tragedy wrought?

I thought about this in going over a release I received about a new adaptation of Shakespeare’s bloody play Macbeth -a work that revolves around ideas of various kinds of power. Toronto-based company Theatre Jones Roy has taken this idea of power in political and military arenas, and turned it inside out, choosing instead to focus on the push-pull machinations between Macbeth and his wife. With Macbeth Reflected, the idea of power as shared between two lovers is examined with pinpoint precision. Lead performers John Ng and Mary Ashton provided some solid insights into the character and the work, reflecting the notion that Shakespeare didn’t just write for his time, but for all time, and perhaps especially, this time.

What’s the one thing that characterizes the relationship between Macbeth and Lady Macbeth?

Mary: They are partners in almost everything they do. They desire and fulfill their dreams together. Unfortunately, their dreams become so unhealthy that their partnership eventually crumbles.

With the emphasis on relationship in this production, how does it change the nature of the tragedy?

John: The body count is definitely much lower, and you will find certain character plots, known history and supernatural elements of the original have been eliminated or severely reduced. The retelling has placed this tragedy back in the hands of the two who are ultimately responsible for their own suffering and, in so doing, provide some insights into human psychology.

What role does sex play?

Mary: Sex, in the coital sense, as with any relationship, plays a big role whether it’s present or not. With Lady M being “unsexed”, she desires more than anything to be ruthless in her pursuit and to have no remorse or fears weigh her down which were attributes often associated with the “softer sex” in Shakespeare’s time. Her femininity still exists and she most definitely uses it to her advantage.

How much does their being childless influences their choices and thought processes?

John: The loss has affectively reshaped (the couple’s) moral universe. Since we were robbed once before, we’ve become acutely aware when a perceived injustice is done upon us. We’re hardened. Very hard.

Mary: It’s been an integral part in the development of (Lady Macbeth). I am fairly certain, based on the text, that she has had a baby. Where that baby is now, the text doesn’t indicate but certainly there is loss. Loss and/or lacking can drive people to do unimaginable things and often times, with the best intentions.
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That idea, of a lack driving people to do horrible things, feels so timely and intimate, even as it’s timeless and epic. Perhaps this bloody tale of two lovers has something to teach past the old high school interpretation of “absolute power corrupting absolutely.” Perhaps power -and the ways it is used and abused in relation to those in need -is much more subtle, if disturbing, an argument. Those subtleties are worth considering.

Macbeth Reflected runs to January 24th at the Lower Ossington Theatre in Toronto.
For more information, go to artsboxoffice.ca.