Lynn

Live and in person at The Young Centre for the Performing Arts, Soulpepper Theatre Company, Toronto, Ont. . King Lear playing in rep at Soulpepper until Oct. 1, and Queen Goneril playing until Oct. 2, 2022.

www.soulpepper.ca

NOTE: Soulpepper Theatre is presenting King Lear by William Shakespeare and Queen Goneril by Erin Shields in repertory. Erin Shields wrote Queen Goneril as a feminist companion piece to King Lear. The casts are the same for both as are the creatives (except for the directors). 

We are told that each play stands on its own and you can see them in any order. But I think to put things in context it’s better to see King Learfirst to get the story and then to see Queen Gonerilto see how cleverly playwright Erin Shields references King Lear in her own play.

I will review each separately.

King Lear

Written by William Shakespeare

Directed by Kim Collier

Set by Ken MacKenzie

Costumes by Judith Bowden

Lighting by Kimberly Purtell

Sound by Thomas Ryder Payne

Cast: Damien Atkins

Helen Belay

Oliver Dennis

Sheldon Elter

Virgilia Griffith

Varum Guru

Breton Lalama

Annie Luján

Tom McCamus

Nancy Palk

Jordan Pettle

Shaquille Pottinger

Philip Riccio

Vanessa Sears

Klana Woo

Jonathan Young

Director Kim Collier’s has created a bloated, self-indulgent production in which she seems to think the audience hasn’t read a book, has no imagination and is a stranger to nuance. Strong acting though.

The Story. King Lear by William Shakespeare, is about a king who divides his land among his three daughters and all hell breaks loose as a result. King Lear is getting on in years and he decides to divide his kingdom among his three daughters: Goneril (the eldest), Regan the middle one and Cordelia, the youngest and his favourite. His plan is to visit each daughter for a month, taking with him 100 knights, and he will keep all the titles and rank of king. In other words, he’s making his kingdom smaller to rule and his daughters will take care of him each month but he still rules the land.

But first he plays a little game with them in public, in the court. He asks each daughter in turn how much she loves him and in exchange he will give each a prized parcel of the kingdom. In the case of Cordelia, whom he describes as “our joy” he asks her to express her love so she can get a parcel of land better than her sisters. This seems a cruel game to me since he’s already divided up the land evenly (we are told so in the first speech of the play).

But matters get messy. Cordelia won’t play the game. She says that she loves Lear as a daughter should. Lear wants to hear more from her and she won’t give it so he takes her parcel of land away and gives it to the two other sisters. Needless to say that King Lear is in a rage– Lear hates to be contradicted. A courtier, Kent, pleads the case of Cordelia and Lear banishes him.

Cordelia is being courted by two men, France and Burgundy, and Lear tells them that Cordelia gets no dowry and they must decide who will marry her. Burgundy refuses her. France accepts her on her own. The other two daughters balk when King Lear and his men visit and they are rowdy.

And it goes downhill from there. Lean almost goes mad before he learns the truth. There is another foolish father in Gloucester and his two sons: Edgar, his legitimate son and Edmund, his bastard, vengeful son.

The Production.  Let’s talk about the positive first—the acting is dandy. As King Lear, Tom McCamus plays him as a man’s man, who loves to be the center of attention. He lobs a joke for those in attendance. He plays games with his daughters to bolster his ego and to have them ‘dance’ to his bidding in exchange for a parcel of the kingdom. Tom McCamus also illuminates Lear’s irrational behaviour when he is crossed or challenged. His temper is explosive, his movements big and almost uncontrollable. Patience is not his strong point. Goneril and Regan feel that his old age might be the cause of this irrational behaviour.  Interestingly his courtiers are not just yes people so it’s interesting to see how others try and reason with him.

Virgilia Griffith as Goneril, Vanessa Sears as Regan and Helen Belay as Cordelia all reveal their character’s hidden emotions. Goneril and Regan know how to play the “Tell me how much you love me game.” They flatter, are coy, but eventually their true feelings are revealed. Lear shows little affection to Goneril so Virgilia Griffith reveals a hardened woman as a result. When Cornwall (Regan’s husband) wants to punish Gloucester, it’s Goneril who suggests that they pluck out his eyes. Regan wants to hang him. These are two damaged women. Helen Belay as Cordelia, is more controlled and even-tempered. She is not using the fact that Lear loves her the most, but she is confident in herself to deal with Lear as an adult.

Jonathan Young plays up Edmund’s anger that he is treated by Gloucester as the bastard son. Of course we only have Edmund’s word for that. Gloucester (Oliver Dennis) is another father who thinks nothing of teasing and joking about his son in public, especially that he’s a bastard and that there was good sport in his conception. Jonathan Young hides his vindictiveness behind a smooth veneer of confidence and poise. Oliver Dennis as Gloucester is both a courtly man and one who is a bit silly with his vulgar jokes. But he is truly moving as Gloucester when he is blinded by Cornwall (Philip Riccio) and finds solace with the mysterious Poor Tom, who is really his son Edgar (a touching Damien Atkins). Nancy Palk is mournful and wise as The Fool.  

But more than anything, this was a case of the director Kim Collier’s concept that swallowed the production.  She didn’t trust Shakespeare’s play to tell the story or the audience to be able to figure it out without everything spelled out in phonetics.

Ken MacKenzie is usually an inventive, creative designer but you would hardly know it with the set he designed here.  The set is composed of two massive arched structures that are laboriously moved around the stage by the cast. When the structures are pushed together they practically take over the whole stage leaving a small space on which the cast has to act. The cast seemed to be pushing and pulling those cumbersome set pieces to establish a new location for every scene—as if the audience wasn’t capable of ‘imagining’ a new location without those unwieldy arches ‘setting’ the scene. And they had been moved so often it was hard to recognize where we were anyway.

You just cover your eyes in disbelief at some of Kim Collier’s directorial decisions. It’s not enough that in the very first scene Gloucester and Kent indicate that King Lear has already divided the land absolutely evenly, Collier adds a scene before that to show us King Lear dividing the land after much thought. There is Lear, alone, sitting on his throne, pondering, stroking his chin. He picks up a map of the land and holds it up so we can see it clearly. He puts it on the table and looks at it and strokes his chin. He wanders and ponders. He takes a ‘sharpie’ and makes two strokes in the map—voilá the kingdom is divided.  (The speech between Gloucester and Kent gives a subtle hint King Lear has divided the land amongst his sons-in-law–Cornwall and Albany—played by Philip Riccio and Jordan Pettle respectively, rather than the daughters).

In Kim Collier’s vision of King Lear there is a ceremony after Lear divides the kingdom between Goneril and Regan, in which each daughter sits at a table, a binder with a document is placed in front of them by Edmund who then opens a rectangular box and takes out a pen for each daughter to sign. Mindboggling. In my edition of the play at least, Edmund is a stranger to the court. He’s been away for nine years. Kent recognizes him and Gloucester introduces him and the joke about him being a bastard. How then does Edmund have an administrative job in King Lear’s court making sure documentation is signed? One would think that logic has to come into the direction at some juncture, but not when the concept is more important than the play, I guess.  

In Kim Collier’s vision characters come and see other characters at their dwelling and the visiting characters drag luggage on wheels behind them, as if we can’t imagine they would come without a change of undies?

When Cornwall realizes that Gloucester might be a traitor to his cause he wants to do him harm. Regan suggests they hang Gloucester. Goneril suggests they “pluck out his eyes.” Cornwall thinks this is a good idea so he goes to his ‘weapons drawer’ and pulls out a gun.

I look at the gun, then at Gloucester’s eyes, then the gun and think, “REALY?? You’re going to shoot out his eyes?” (I’m actually rolling mine at this point.) Then Cornwall thinks better of it and puts the gun back in the drawer and takes out a knife that looks like it’s 10 inches long. “Really? Are you also going to do a lobotomy on the man as well,” I wonder?

(And to add another concerning note: After Gloucester is blinded, the blood is dripping down his face and Oliver Dennis as Gloucester gives the most touching speech, the two young actors behind him spend that speech wiping their hands of the blood–they held down Gloucester in the de-eyeballing scene– thus upstaging Oliver Dennis and distracting us from listening. Please stop that wiping. Please. STOP, at least until the speech is finished).

Decisions like these make the production cumbersome, silly, thoughtless and put a terrible burden on the cast, who work hard to do the play.  

At 3 hours and 45 minutes the production should be cut of all the set moving and other extraneous nonsense and just do the play.

Comment. I love the play. It’s so dense and complex about relationships. To me, Lear is an abusive father. You don’t get damaged daughters like that on their own. Ditto with Gloucester and Edmund. There is so much to explore. Kim Collier’s reputation as a director is one in which a dazzling concept is more important than actually digging into the text. This bloated production carries on that reputation. Ugh.

Soulpepper Theatre Company presents:

Plays until: Oct. 1, 2022.

Running Time: 3 hours, 45 minutes (!!) (2 intermissions).

www.soulpepper.ca

{ 0 comments }

Live and in person, Crow’s Theatre presents Festival Players at the Studio Theatre, Streetcar/Crowsnest, until Sept. 25, 2022.

www.crowstheatre.com

Created by: Frank Cox-O’Connell

Beau Dixon

Hailey Gillis

Marni Jackson

Raha Javanfar

Andrew Penner

Directed by Frank Cox-O’Connell

Set by Steve Lucas

Costumes by Lindsay Forde

Sound by Steáfán Hannigan

Performed by Frank Cox-O’Connell

Beau Dixon

Hailey Gillis

Raha Javanfar

Andrew Penner

Al Purdy, the celebrated Canadian poet is certainly having his share of accolades and praise this year. There was the play (among men) by David Yee (Factory Theatre), that illuminates his friendship with Milton Acorn and their poetry, while they built the A-Frame house Purdy would live in near Belleville, Ont., later becoming a writer’s retreat, and now this exuberant show, The Shape of Home, Songs in Search of Al Purdy.

When busy, creative artists are forced to stop performing because of a pandemic, it is a startling experience. It leaves them discombobulated, as it did Frank Cox-O’Connell, Beau Dixon, Hailey Gillis, Marni Jackson, Raha Javanfar and Andrew Penner. What to do? They communicated with each other and decided to put music to the poems of Al Purdy. Deciding which poems to include was a daunting task since Purdy wrote about 39 books of poems among others. He just never stopped writing and chronicling what he was seeing and experiencing.  The same can be said of the six creators of this show The Shape of Home, Songs in Search of Al Purdy, they just never stop creating.

Over the course of the show’s 90 minutes there were snippets of Al Purdy’s biography: his two marriages, his sons, (one ‘lost’ one quiet), his friendship with other poets (Milton Acorn, Irving Layton, Leonard Cohen, Margaret Atwood), and his poems that celebrate herons, nature, being alive and trying to find what home is. The narrative also expressed the difficulty the group had of setting some poems to music, but when they did it was lively, raucous, sometimes mournful and joyful.

Instruments are hung on the wall for efficiency (guitars, a banjo etc.). A long table is the central point. The five performers often sit around the table, lean on it or even dance on it. They are all microphoned. The cast of five: Frank Cox-O’Connell, Beau Dixon, Hailey Gillis, Raha Javanfar and Andrew Penner are all multi-talented in that they all play several instruments and they sing. Frank Cox-O’Connell plays the drums and also directs. Hailey Gillis plays several kinds of guitars and smiles through all of it. Raha Javanfar plays a mean violin while stomping her foot as she stands on the table and she also plays guitar and some kind of horn instrument that looks like a trumpet, but probably is something more exotic. Andrew Penner plays guitar and drums among others. Beau Dixon—is there anything more joyful than watching the music pour out of Beau Dixon as he leans over playing the guitar and singing? He plays piano, guitar, tuba, banjo, harmonica and probably several more. Even the beer glasses they were drinking from are used as musical instruments.

But we are also there for the poems of Al Purdy and here things get a bit sticky. The cast is having such a great time jamming for each other, sometimes even facing in on a circle playing for each other, it seems as if the audience is an afterthought.  Such a talented cast.  I just wished they would realize that WE were in the room too and that perhaps they could tone down the raucousness and leave the tuba, the horn, the drums, the sax and many of the other instruments at the door so we could actually hear the words they are singing, clearly. Too often the words are drowned out because of all that musical creativity. How can we ‘find’ Al Purdy if we can’t hear all his words clearly?

Crows Theatre presents Festival Players

Plays until: Sept. 25, 2022.

Running time: 90 minutes (no intermission)

www.crowstheatre.com

{ 0 comments }

Heads up for Sept. 17-18, 2022.

Talk is Free Theatre, Barrie, Ont.

In their never-ending efforts to raise the artistic bar, Talk Is Free Theatre’s CEO, Arkady Spivak and Artistic Director, Michael Torontow, have created a free festival called GIANTS IN THE SKY! That took place last weekend and concludes this weekend.

All the acts perform their shows on roof tops. The audience watches either from the same space or from a location a little below.

For example: Last weekend I saw:

CONFESSIONS of MOTHERHOOD, conceived, written and performed by Jennifer Stewart about her efforts to have a child as her biological clock ticked and ticked. Stewart interspersed her storytelling with songs from the musical theatre canon and the juxtaposition was brilliant. For example I can never listen to Sondheim’s “Being Alive” in the same way after hearing Jennifer Stewart sing it in this context.

The writing is smart, funny and poignant. She sings like a dream.

Her last show is Sept. 17 at 1:15 pm at the Barrie Public Library, Downtown Branch.

BROADWAY BROADS, written and performed by Gabi Epstein, she belted the songs of Broadway divas, including Barbra Streisand of course and she was DIVA-ine…..

She sang from a rooftop of a building across from where the audience sat on a restaurant patio. Wonderful.

CORNER OF THE SKY, conceived by Justin Stadnyk. He sang from a fire escape at the side of a building. The songs were familiar and obscure from the Musical Theatre Repertoire, and they told a story of searching for meaning in life through song. Such a find singer.

This weekend (Sept. 17-18) has a new roster of artists performing from rooftops. It’s free. It’s brilliant. Don’t miss it.

www.tift.ca

{ 0 comments }

Live and in person at the Studio Theater, Stratford Festival, Stratford, Ont. Plays until Oct. 29,

www.stratfordfest.ca

Written by Jani Lauzon and Kaitlyn Riordan

Directed by Jani Lauzon

Set by Joanna Yu

Costumes by Asa Benally

Lighting by Louise Guinand

Composer and sound designer, Wayne Kelso

Cast: Richard Comeau

Sarah Dodd

Jacklyn Francis

Wahsonti:io Kirby

Kathleen MacLean

Mike Shara

Tara Sky

John Wamsley

A gently pointed play in which Indigenous voices give Shakespeare’s All’s Well That Ends Well an Indigenous interpretation. Terrific production.

The Story. It’s 1939 in an Anglican residential school in northern Ontario. A royal visit from George VI and his wife Queen Elizabeth is anticipated and the students are being primed to present a production of Shakespeare’s All’s Well That Ends Well. Their fussy teacher Miss Sian Ap Dafyyd will direct them. Father Callum Williams will play the King of France.

As the students prepare and struggle with the British accent (of course they have to do the British accent according to Miss Ap Dafyyd), they realize that the story is really an Indigenous story and is about them and their own trials and tribulations. Helena in All’s Well That Ends Well is an orphan and has inherited her late father’s knowledge of medicine and is carrying on his traditions and knowledge. The student playing Helena is certain she is Mohawk. The student playing Parolles is certain that this character (Spanish in Shakespeare) is actually Métis. The student playing Bertram is also Indigenous. The students are committed to their interpretation even though there is opposition to the idea from Miss Ap Dafyyd.

Then the press gets wind of the production and that it will be presented as ‘authentically Canadian,’ and matters go from there.

The Production. We have all been horrified at the discovery of the unmarked graves at various residential schools across the country and the heart wrenching stories of what traumatized survivors endured at the hands of the teachers and clergy at those schools.

In 1939 co-writers Jani Lauzon and Kaitlyn Riordan have taken a subtler way of dealing with what these Indigenous students and their parents etc. endured without sacrificing the power of the story.  The message is clear and resounding without being hard-hitting.     

Joanna Yu has created an intriguing, compelling set. We are in a class room with chairs on their sides on the floor. A large blackboard with “1939” written on it in chalk, stands on the stage floor and leans up against the balcony of the theatre. That is one large blackboard. Along the sides of the space, on either side of the staircases going up to the balcony level, are other blackboards.

During 1939, students write in chalk on those side blackboard areas, sometimes pleading letters (“Mamma, did you get my letter?”), sometimes just a word like “home”. As soon as the message is written and the student leaves the space, either Miss Ap Dafyyd (Sarah Dodd) or Father Callum Williams (Mike Shara) comes along and rubs out the message with a brush. It’s not done with anger or frustration. It’s just a calmly matter of fact cleaning of a blackboard. The messages are of longing, yearning and homesickness. Some of the students have been there for several years and have not been home.

At the beginning of the play a student is asked who he is and he automatically gives his number and just as quickly corrects himself and gives his name. Giving his number so automatically is a subtle ‘gut-punch’ to those who hear it. Every effort was made to remove their Indigenous language, customs and traditions and make them blend in as “Canadian.”

Every effort was made to break up siblings, but somehow Joseph Summers (Richard Comeau) and his sister Beth (Tara Sky) were there in that school and they just never told anyone they were siblings and it never came out. It was also forbidden that the boys and girls should mingle except in the class room.

We learn that if an Indigenous woman marries a white man she loses her ‘Indian’ status and is removed from the reserve. We learn from one student (named Jean Delorme in the play)  his Indigenous mother married a white man who later deserted her when she was removed from the reserve.  She prevailed on her own and was determined that her children would have an education.

These revelations are revealed carefully over the course of 1939, as the students rehearse and learn about All’s Well That Ends Well. Here is a play that takes place in Europe but these students find resonance to their own lives in Northern Ontario.

Miss Ap Dafyyd feels strongly about Shakespeare and how to do the play correctly. She insists that the students use a British accent.  She is Welsh. She is asked if when she did Shakespeare with a British accent, I believe I heard Sarah Dodd as Miss Ap Dafyyd say with a bit of irritation, “Of course not.” The irony hangs in the air. Dodd plays Miss Ap Dafyyd with conviction, an attention to detail and more a harried concern about Shakespeare than what the students are secretly feeling. Ap Dafyyd is not a mean, cruel woman. She just seems out of place in that school and frustrated as the students are as well. 

Co-writers Jani Lauzon and Kaitlyn Riordan carefully reveal the developing confidence, resilience and quiet resistance of the students through Shakespeare. Evelyne Rice (Wahsonti:io Kirby) is cast as Helena and is certain she is Mohawk. Helena knows about medicines, as Evelyne does because of her Indigeneity so the connection is appropriate. As Evelyn Rice, Wahsonti:io Kirby brings out all Evelyn’s curiosity, generosity and joy in playing a character so close to herself. Evelyne is easy going, smart and tenacious in all the right ways. She quietly let’s the local newspaper know that the production of All’s Well That Ends Well will be done as ‘authentically Canadian.’ Wonderful. The students find their authentic voice through their parts.

Joseph Summer (Richard Comeau) is cast as Bertram. Richard Comeau plays Joseph with gentle grace, but he longs to return home to the reserve and proudly retain his culture. Joseph’s sister  Beth Summers (Tara Sky) is the student you want in your class—certainly as played by Tara Sky–devoted to the subject. Beth loves Shakespeare. She knows the play. She is championed by Miss Ap Dafyyd. Perhaps because of her Beth wants to be a teacher.

Jean Delorme (John Wamsley) plays Parolles and is certain he’s Métis. Parolles gives Jean validation. Jean’s mother is Indigenous and his father is white. His mother lost her ‘Indian’ because she married a white man and was then deserted by her husband.   Father Callum Williams (Mike Shara) is an awkward, ungainly, nervous man in which his nervousness is manifest in flatulence. Not a good thing when your job necessitates you do a lot of public speaking, and playing the King of France in All’s Well That Ends Well doesn’t help matters.

1939 only touches on the war looming in Europe. The bigger issue for co-writers Jani Lauzon and Kaitlyn Riordan is looking at the Indigenous students in this residential school and finding a positive way of illuminating their hope, resolve, tenacity and embrace of a Shakespeare play to speak for them and help them find their true voice. Jani Lauzon has directed the play with a quiet vision and a keen way of establishing relationships. The play has a lot to say that is important to hear. The message is quietly resounding and clear.

Comment. A few years ago, the Shaw Festival programmed a production of Shakespeare’s Henry V (you read that right) interpreted as if it was being performed by a group of soldiers, hunkered down in the trenches during WWI. During the intermission the audience was invited to fill in cards with their memories of war etc. and some would be read during the beginning of the next Act. At the end of the run there was an instillation of sorts in a field near the theatre. The army boots the cast wore as soldiers during Henry V were positioned around the field and in every boot was a card that had been completed during the run of the show, noting a person’s memory of war, etc. One card stayed with me. The handwriting was perfect and elegant, the message was devastating. The writer said that her father enlisted to fight for Canada during WWII, I believe she said her father thought it was his patriotic duty. When he came back safely from fighting for Canada her father learned that because he enlisted, he was stripped of his ‘Indian’ status. Devastating. The writer was Jani Lauzon.

The Stratford Festival presents:

Runs until: Oct. 29, 2022.

Running Time: 2 hours, 30 minutes. (1 intermission)

www.stratfordfestival.ca

{ 0 comments }

Live and in person at the Studio Theater, Stratford Festival, Stratford, Ont. Plays until Oct. 29,

www.stratfordfest.ca

Written by Jani Lauzon and Kaitlyn Riordan

Directed by Jani Lauzon

Set by Joanna Yu

Costumes by Asa Benally

Lighting by Louise Guinand

Composer and sound designer, Wayne Kelso

Cast: Richard Comeau

Sarah Dodd

Jacklyn Francis

Wahsonti:io Kirby

Kathleen MacLean

Mike Shara

Tara Sky

John Wamsley

A gently pointed play in which Indigenous voices give Shakespeare’s All’s Well That Ends Well an Indigenous interpretation. Terrific production.

The Story. It’s 1939 in an Anglican residential school in northern Ontario. A royal visit from George VI and his wife Queen Elizabeth is anticipated and the students are being primed to present a production of Shakespeare’s All’s Well That Ends Well. Their fussy teacher Miss Sian Ap Dafyyd will direct them. Father Callum Williams will play the King of France.

As the students prepare and struggle with the British accent (of course they have to do the British accent according to Miss Ap Dafyyd), they realize that the story is really an Indigenous story and is about them and their own trials and tribulations. Helena in All’s Well That Ends Well is an orphan and has inherited her late father’s knowledge of medicine and is carrying on his traditions and knowledge. The student playing Helena is certain she is Mohawk. The student playing Parolles is certain that this character (Spanish in Shakespeare) is actually Métis. The student playing Bertram is also Indigenous. The students are committed to their interpretation even though there is opposition to the idea from Miss Ap Dafyyd.

Then the press gets wind of the production and that it will be presented as ‘authentically Canadian,’ and matters go from there.

The Production. We have all been horrified at the discovery of the unmarked graves at various residential schools across the country and the heart wrenching stories of what traumatized survivors endured at the hands of the teachers and clergy at those schools.

In 1939 co-writers Jani Lauzon and Kaitlyn Riordan have taken a subtler way of dealing with what these Indigenous students and their parents etc. endured without sacrificing the power of the story.  The message is clear and resounding without being hard-hitting.     

Joanna Yu has created an intriguing, compelling set. We are in a class room with chairs on their sides on the floor. A large blackboard with “1939” written on it in chalk, stands on the stage floor and leans up against the balcony of the theatre. That is one large blackboard. Along the sides of the space, on either side of the staircases going up to the balcony level, are other blackboards.

During 1939, students write in chalk on those side blackboard areas, sometimes pleading letters (“Mamma, did you get my letter?”), sometimes just a word like “home”. As soon as the message is written and the student leaves the space, either Miss Ap Dafyyd (Sarah Dodd) or Father Callum Williams (Mike Shara) comes along and rubs out the message with a brush. It’s not done with anger or frustration. It’s just a calmly matter of fact cleaning of a blackboard. The messages are of longing, yearning and homesickness. Some of the students have been there for several years and have not been home.

At the beginning of the play a student is asked who he is and he automatically gives his number and just as quickly corrects himself and gives his name. Giving his number so automatically is a subtle ‘gut-punch’ to those who hear it. Every effort was made to remove their Indigenous language, customs and traditions and make them blend in as “Canadian.”

Every effort was made to break up siblings, but somehow Joseph Summers (Richard Comeau) and his sister Beth (Tara Sky) were there in that school and they just never told anyone they were siblings and it never came out. It was also forbidden that the boys and girls should mingle except in the class room.

We learn that if an Indigenous woman marries a white man she loses her ‘Indian’ status and is removed from the reserve. We learn from one student his Indigenous mother married a white man who later deserted her when she was removed from the reserve.  She prevailed on her own and was determined that her children would have an education.

These revelations are revealed carefully over the course of 1939, as the students rehearse and learn about All’s Well That Ends Well. Here is a play that takes place in Europe but these students find resonance to their own lives in Northern Ontario.

Miss Ap Dafyyd feels strongly about Shakespeare and how to do the play correctly. She insists that the students use a British accent.  She is Welsh. She is asked if when she did Shakespeare with a British accent, I believe I heard Sarah Dodd as Miss Ap Dafyyd say with a bit of irritation, “Of course not.” The irony hangs in the air. Dodd plays Miss Ap Dafyyd with conviction, an attention to detail and more a harried concern about Shakespeare than what the students are secretly feeling. Ap Dafyyd is not a mean, cruel woman. She just seems out of place in that school and frustrated as the students are as well.  

Co-writers Jani Lauzon and Kaitlyn Riordan carefully reveal the developing confidence, resilience and quiet resistance of the students through Shakespeare. Evelyn Rice (Wahsonti:io Kirby) is cast as Helena and is certain she is Mohawk. Helena knows about medicines, as Evelyn does because of her Indigeneity so the connection is appropriate. As Evelyn Rice, Wahsonti:io Kirby brings out all Evelyn’s curiosity, generosity and joy in playing a character so close to herself. Evelyn is easy going, smart and tenacious in all the right ways. She quietly let’s the local newspaper know that the production of All’s Well That Ends Well will be done as ‘authentically Canadian.’ Wonderful. The students find their authentic voice through their parts.

Joseph Summers (Richard Comeau) plays Parolles and is certain he’s Métis. Parolles gives Joseph validation. Richard Comeau plays Joseph with gentle grace. Beth Summers (Tara Sky) is the student you want in your class—certainly as played by Tara Sky–devoted to the subject. Beth loves Shakespeare. She knows the play. She is championed by Miss Ap Dafyyd. Perhaps because of her Beth wants to be a teacher. Father Callum Williams (Mike Shara) is an awkward, ungainly, nervous man in which his nervousness is manifest in flatulence. Not a good thing when your job necessitates you do a lot of public speaking, and playing the King of France in All’s Well That Ends Well doesn’t help matters.

1939 only touches on the war looming in Europe. The bigger issue for co-writers Jani Lauzon and Kaitlyn Riordan is looking at the Indigenous students in this residential school and finding a positive way of illuminating their hope, resolve, tenacity and embrace of a Shakespeare play to speak for them and help them find their true voice. Jani Lauzon has directed the play with a quiet vision and a keen way of establishing relationships. The play has a lot to say that is important to hear. The message is quietly resounding and clear.

Comment. A few years ago, the Shaw Festival programmed a production of Shakespeare’s Henry V (you read that right) interpreted as if it was being performed by a group of soldiers, hunkered down in the trenches during WWI. During the intermission the audience was invited to fill in cards with their memories of war etc. and some would be read during the beginning of the next Act. At the end of the run there was an instillation of sorts in a field near the theatre. The army boots the cast wore as soldiers during Henry V were positioned around the field and in every boot was a card that had been completed during the run of the show, noting a person’s memory of war, etc. One card stayed with me. The handwriting was perfect and elegant, the message was devastating. The writer said that her father enlisted to fight for Canada during WWII, I believe she said her father thought it was his patriotic duty. When he came back safely from fighting for Canada her father learned that because he enlisted, he was stripped of his ‘Indian’ status. Devastating. The writer was Jani Lauzon.

The Stratford Festival presents:

Runs until: Oct. 29, 2022.

Running Time: 2 hours, 30 minutes. (1 intermission)

www.stratfordfestival.ca

{ 0 comments }

Live and in person from Crow’s Theatre, at the Streetcar/Crowsnest. Plays until Oct. 2, 2022.

www.crowstheatre.com

Written by Anton Chekhov

Adapted by Liisa Repo-Martell

Directed by Chris Abraham

Set and props co-designer, Julie Fox and Josh Quinlan

Set and props co-designer, Josh Quinlan

Costumes by Ming Wong

Lighting by Kimberly Purtell

Sound by Thomas Ryder Payne

Cast: Carolyn Fe

dtaborah johnson

Ali Kazmi

Eric Peterson

Anand Rajaram

Tom Rooney

Shannon Taylor

Bahia Watson

This beautifully sensitive production and deeply felt adaptation of Uncle Vanya is like a light in the world.

The Story. Uncle Vanya was published in 1898 and first performed in Russia in 1899. While Chekhov described the play on the title page as “Scenes from Country Life in Four Acts” the play is much more than that of course. It is a look into the quietly desperate lives of people stuck and aching because of lost opportunities, unrequited love, profound unhappiness and boredom. And in Chekhov’s typical way, it’s funny.

Vanya and his niece Sonya run the country estate and send the money it makes to Alexandre, a noted scholar and professor. Alexandre’s late first wife was Sonya’s mother and Vanya’s sister. When Alexandre’s wife died, he married Yelena, a woman much younger than he was. Because the times are not as prosperous for Alexandre in the city, he’s come to the country estate with Yelena to continue his writing of essays, articles and other scholarly endeavors that occupy his time. In the process he and Yelena disrupt the whole household.

There used to be an order to the day of those on the estate. Marina, the family’s elderly servant, was used to preparing the meals at set times during the day and sleeping at normal, regular times. With the professor’s odd sleeping patterns, he got up at noon and worked usually all night. Meals were not regular. Vanya and Sonya had not attended to running the estate for fear of upsetting the timetable of Alexandre. The animosity of Vanya towards Alexandre was palpable. Vanya felt he squandered his life in the service to this pompous buffoon. Vanya also felt he had a better intellect than Alexandre. Vanya’s mother, Maria, hung on to every word written or said by Alexandre much to the chagrin of Vanya.  And to make matters worse Vanya was in love with Yelena.

Alexandre was always complaining of ill health and so Dr. Astrov was summoned to come and minister to him. When the doctor got there, Alexandre wouldn’t see him. Astrov was haunted by a young patient who died in his care. He drank, usually with Vanya. Astrov was secretly in love with Yelena as well. Rounding out this stoical longing was Sonya, who also pined for Astrov. Telegin, was an impoverished friend who helped at the estate. He tried to hold on to his dignity.    

The Production. The audience sits around the four walls of the Guloien Theatre. Kimberly Purtell’s lighting gives the sense of a faded photograph of by gone times. Set and props co-designers, Julie Fox and Josh Quinlan have captured the size and suggested former grandeur of the estate by filling the whole space as if we are in the main room of the house. The room now suggests the fortunes have fallen. The floorboards are uneven or broken; there are pockets of stones and earth poking up where boards should be. The rugs are threadbare. (Interestingly, the narrow runner rugs that lead the audience into the playing space are luxurious and deep).

Ming Wong’s costumes—well-worn for those who work the estate, and very stylish for Yelena and Maria. Alexandre is always in a suit to give off the impression of success.   There is little furniture, except for Marina’s (Carolyn Fe) overstuffed, worn chair, a small desk close to one side, and a table, bench and chair in the middle of the room where people eat and Vanya (Tom Rooney) and Sonya (Bahia Watson) work.  Memorabilia, books and lots of stuff are placed under things or around the room etc. A chandelier hangs down from the flies. Beams are above and they are large and thick. This is a huge house, now shabby. At times Thomas Ryder Payne provides a subtle hum, ‘buzz’ that underscores a speech. It’s one more aspect of something that closes in on these people as they try and endure.

Liisa Repo-Martell’s adaptation breathes a freshness into Chekhov’s timeless play, that enhances it without distorting it. For example, at the end, as Sonya is comforting Uncle Vanya, trying to buoy him and give him hope, the frequent translation is that after they dedicate their lives to work, they will find rest (in the afterlife?). In Liisa Repo-Martell’s version, Sonya says they will ‘have peace’ which I think is more profound. More comforting. Repo-Martell’s language is both of Chekhov’s time and timeless. There is an intellectual modernity to it, certainly for Vanya, and certainly when the always watchable Tom Rooney plays him. This is a performance of exquisite details and intelligence.

Director Chris Abraham has beautifully, sensitively realized the subtle bubbling of emotions in the play. Chris Abraham’s direction illuminates the ache of yearning, of disappointment and lost love.

Characters such as Astrov (a haunted, sombre Ali Kazmi) talks of how exhausted he is but can’t seem to sit down and rest (part of Chekhov’s quiet humour). Uncle Vanya is consumed with sadness and ennui but can’t stop shuffling around aimlessly as if trying to find a place of comfort, and failing. Sonya is industrious. She finds things to occupy her and she moves with a purpose, although keeping her emotions secret. As Marina the old nanny/maid, Carolyn Fe quietly sees that the family is fed, that the samovar is always on, offers motherly affection and drink to Astrov, and even when she is sitting in her chair, she’s knitting, being useful. Again, Chekhov and Chris Abraham are having a little laugh. Marina is industrious and uncomplaining.  Abraham carefully realizes each character’s heart-ache. Scenes are never rushed. They have time to breathe and be. They linger in the air compelling us to see, feel and be aware of each character’s beating heart.

The cast is sublime. As Uncle Vanya, Tom Rooney gives a masterclass of a performance. It is full of such nuance and subtly. He’s stooped, defeated by life and disappointment. He’s anxious, angry at Alexandre and in secret love with Yelena. When you expect him to declare his unhappiness loudly, he whimpers it and breaks your heart. When he rages at Alexandre it’s in a torrent of articulation and linguistic dexterity that is breathtaking. Brilliant work.

Bahia Watson illuminates Sonya’s generosity of spirit, her kindness and certainly her delicate ability to calm Vanya and give him hope. Her delirious joy when she can confide in Yelena is wonderful; her profound sadness when she learns about Astrov’s feelings squeezes the heart. Yelena is the most perceptive character in the play. She knows the secret feelings of those in the house and it’s so clear in Shannon Taylor’s playing of her. Shannon Taylor’s Yelena is like watching a breeze move, there is such grace. Conversation stops when she enters a room because characters are compelled to look at her. Taylor is watchful at everybody in the room. She listens to what they say and intuits how they feel. She knows her affect on people but is not destructive with it. She is bored, but won’t leave.

Anand Rajaram as Telegin, also known as “Waffles” because of his pocked skin, just wants to be noticed and for his name to be pronounced properly. He is impoverished but works hard to be useful. Telegin is a character who could be the focus of ridicule in that hard world. Rajaram gives him dignity. If every there was a character who was pompous, bombastic and a source of hollow pontificating, Alexandre is it and he is played with wonderful arrogance, irritation and much hilarity by Eric Peterson. While Alexandre is revered by many, he’s easily defeated in an argument by Vanya who shows the hollow phony Alexandre is. Alexandre does fool Maria, Vanya’s mother in a performance by dtaborah johnson that is quietly flamboyant and delusional.  

Director Chris Abraham also takes givens about directing and theatricality and turns them on their ear in Uncle Vanya. It’s as if he’s saying that it’s not necessary to view everything clearly.  Considering many characters are harboring secrets and not telling anyone until they just can’t help it, then keeping almost ‘secrets’ makes sense.

Many scenes take place in corners where often it’s not easy to see what is happening. Characters appear out of nowhere, from a corner, alerting us with a snore, they are there.  Sonya fixes Astrov a snack of cheese and wine at counter hidden in a corner, seen by some and not by others. She puts the snack on a tray and takes it to the table, on view to everybody.

Astrov is keenly aware of the change in vegetation in the area. He has tracked the disappearance of trees over time on several huge sheets he has kept rolled up, which he brings to show Yelena. He unrolls the sheets by laying them on the floor at the far end of the room and explaining to Yelena the changes over time. Those close to the sheets can see the changes. But for others, there is a table etc. in the way.  The placement of the sheets on the floor is deliberate, even though everybody would be able to see clearly if the sheets had been placed on the table in the centre of the room.  

At one point Sonya confides to Yelena that she loves Astrov and wonders how he feels about her. Yelena offers to sound out Astrov discreetly. When Yelena lets Sonya know the answer, they are at a side of the room (subtly illuminated), while ‘centre stage’ Alexandre is raging about something. This pulling of our focus also pulls at our hearts when we realize what Yelena is telling Sonya just with a shake of her head.

Comment. Such heart-ache. Such longing and yearning and it’s funny in a truly Chekhovian way. These characters are stuck in their misery but continue to perpetuate it. Telegin was jilted on his wedding day when his wife ran off with another man. But for 30 years he remained faithful to his wife and supported her and her lover. One wrinkles one’s eyebrows at this, yet it’s funny. Vanya displays an absolute crystal intellect and linguistic dexterity that Alexandre can’t approach and yes, Vanya has squandered his life toiling on that estate. But he never moved to do anything else. Vanya berates Alexandre for never raising his salary in all the time Vanya has been overseeing the estate. Yet Vanya never asked for a raise either. It’s as if the characters need to suffer to feel alive. And they won’t move to change it And in a Chekhovian way, that’s funny.

Stunning production, wonderful theatre all round.

Crow’s Theater Presents:

Runs until: Oct. 2, 2022.

Running Time: 2 hours, 45 minutes (1 intermission)

www.crowstheatre.com

{ 2 comments }

Live and in person from Crow’s Theatre, at the Streetcar/Crowsnest. Plays until Oct. 2, 2022.

www.crowstheatre.com

Written by Anton Chekhov

Adapted by Liisa Repo-Martell

Directed by Chris Abraham

Set and props co-designer, Julie Fox

Set and props co-designer, Josh Quinlan

Costumes by Ming Wong

Lighting by Kimberly Purtell

Sound by Thomas Ryder Payne

This beautifully sensitive production and deeply felt adaptation of Uncle Vanya is like a light in the world. Chris Abraham’s direction illuminates the ache of yearning, of disappointment and lost love. Liisa Repo-Martell’s adaptation breathes a freshness into Chekhov’s timeless play, that enhances it without distorting it.

The cast is sublime. As Uncle Vanya, Tom Rooney gives a masterclass of a performance.

Stunning theatre, all round.

Full review to follow shortly.

Crow’s Theater Presents:

Runs until: Oct. 2, 2022.

Running Time: 2 hours, 45 minutes (1 intermission)

www.crowstheatre.com

{ 0 comments }

Live and in person at the Harvest Stage, Blyth Festival, Blyth, Ont. Until Sept. 24, 2022.

www.blythfestival.com

Written by Cheryl Foggo

Director/musical director, Janelle Cooper

Set and costumes by Lindsey Zess

Lighting by Beth Kates

Sound by Adam Campbell

Original Music, Kris Demeanor and Miranda Martini

Cast: Janelle Cooper

Warona Setshwaelo

Twaine Ward

Musicians: Madeleine Eddy

Graham Hargrove

George Meanwell

A fascinating play and production that explores the vibrant life and historical importance of John Ware, a black cowboy who changed the face of farming and the sense of community when he planted his roots in Alberta in the 1800s.

The Story. John Ware was probably born a slave and became a cowboy driving a herd  of cattle to Canada where he stayed and put down roots. There was a lot of folklore about him doing herculean feats to save people, or invent new ways of farming etc. A lot of it was true. He was a natural leader of people, a loving husband and father. He had tenacity and a sense of duty that was gripping. And he was a hero to those who studied his story.

The Production. Director Janelle Cooper creates a kind of ceremony of introduction at the beginning of the play. Actors in costume are brought forward by another participant and guided around the set and up the stairs. The last to be introduced are two musicians who are also guided. The ceremony was silent.

My concern is that I have no idea who those people are or who is introducing them.  I don’t know who the actors play at this point or the point of the ceremony. I can’t assume I know who those characters are, except for John Ware.  It all comes clear when the play begins. Truth to tell, I think that initial ceremony could be cut with no damage to the production.

Joni (Warona Setshwaela) is our narrator. She gives us context and information about John Ware. Warona Setshwaela as Joni is committed and enthusiastic in her performance. I do wonder who Joni is though because at times she seems to be involved in the story but also just outside of it.

As she initially talks of John Ware, Twaine Ward as John Ware, stands at the back of the stage, posed in his long coat, work pants, shirt and boots. He is imposing with his beard and stillness. He was about 6’2” and so commanding without saying a word. He was a man of few words, so few that when he saw Mildred (Janelle Cooper) across the room, he was smitten with her but could not find the words to tell her. She, a Black woman of the community, gradually, gently got him talking enough that they went on dates and they married. Conversation poured out of him then. They had six children. At one point, Mildred gets sick and John has to travel to Calgary to get the medicine. There was a raging snowstorm. What he had to do to get to Calgary and back, his determination not to stop, is the stuff of legends.

Director Janelle Cooper has directed that scene in particular with vivid imagination, complete with snow whipping in the face of John Ware as he fights the elements to get home and save his wife. There is urgency and the build-up of tension.

As John Ware, Twaine Ward is quiet-spoken because it’s his accomplishments that do the talking. There is power in the gentleness of this imposing man, certainly as played by Twaine Ward.

As an actor, Janelle Cooper as Mildred has that grace and gentle confidence of a woman who could deal with the hard world of farming in the 1800s. She also has that independence that could/would charm John Ware and marry her.  And it was a partnership of equality, devotion and intense love.

Late in the play we learn about Joni. She is the modern Black voice of those John Ware influenced.  She was a Black kid in a predominantly white town who longed to see herself in the books she was reading. In a wonderful speech she notes that she does not see herself in “Little Women” or “Anne of Green Gables or “Harriet the Spy.”

As a youngster, Joni learns about John Ware from her older brother. She also learns about the ‘subtle’ racism of a teacher her brother had. Joni had the same teacher as well. Joni had an assignment to write about Huckleberry Finn. Joni didn’t want to. She wanted to write about John Ware and did. From the questions of the teacher, we could tell that the teacher was giving Joni a hard time, for a kid still in public school. How did she know that John Ware was Black? (Joni just did). How did she know that he did all the things he was supposed to have done. One senses the snotty teacher was not questioning so that Joni would dig deeper. The teacher was questioning to embarrass the kid because at that point in her life, she didn’t know. Joni went on to delve more deeply into John Ware’s life as she got older. Can we assume that Joni is Cheryl Foggo?

Music and songs by Miranda Martini and Kris Demeanor also enrich this production. The songs go deeply into a character’s emotions or forward the story. Often Janelle Cooper and Twaine Ward sing together. Both have beautiful, strong voices.  Madeleine Eddy, Graham Hargrove and George Meanwell provide wonderful musical accompaniment and singing as well.

While I found some glitches in the production, ultimately Janelle Cooper presented a production and direction that realized the rich life of John Ware.

Comment. Bravo to Cheryl Foggo for digging into her and John Ware’s history to create this fascinating play about this compelling man.

Interestingly, had Joni waited about 10 years after the publication of “Harriet The Spy” (Louise Fitzhugh), she could have read Louise Fitzhugh’s last book, “Nobody’s Family is Going to Change”—perhaps my most favourite kid’s book (adult book too?) She would have found people who looked like her. It’s about a Black (upper) middle class family in New York City. The father is a lawyer. The mother is accomplished. There are two children. A young boy about seven and his older sister, about 11. The boy loves to dance. He is the focus of the film, “The Tap Dance Kid”. The sister is smart, solitary and perhaps eats to compensate. She wants to be a lawyer. Her father scoffs. The girls stands her ground. Fabulous book. Joni would have found herself in that wonderful book. Interestingly, Louise Fitzhugh was white, writing about a black family in 1974. No one scoffed.

The Blyth Festival presents:

Plays until: Sept. 24, 2022.

Running Time: 2 hours, 30 minutes, approx. (1 intermission)

 www.blythfestival.com

{ 0 comments }

Live and in person at the Here for Now Theatre, Falstaff Family Centre, Stratford, Ont. until Sept. 11, 2022.

www.herefornowtheater.com

Written and performed by Robert McQueen

Composer/musician, Laura Burton

Co-Directors, Damien Atkins and Andrew Kushnir

Lighting and sound by Stephen Degenstein

Because this is billed as a workshop production, I am just commenting and not formally ‘reviewing.’ That said, please see this special, moving, touching production. The sensitive care and detail in realizing the story of these wonderful original poems is a gift, and is presented by Here for Now Theatre, that does this kind of work as a matter of course.

Robert McQueen began to work on these poems during the lockdown. The time was there and the memories and the need to record them. The premise was simple: to write out his ‘experiences as a young queer man, living between Vancouver and New York City during the AIDS epidemic of the 1980s and 90s.

The Real Poems is spoken witness to the joy of youth, discovery and wild adventure. It is a memorial to the lives of colleagues, lovers and friends lost.”

Robert McQueen and his composer/accompanist, Laura Burton enter the space together. He is dressed in a crisp shirt and pants and is barefoot. I love that respectful ritual of being barefoot on the stage. Laura Burton is casually/smartly dressed and sits at her piano and as always, is smiling. She is focused on Robert McQueen, listening carefully and totally to everything he says and she reacts with genuine warmth. Her music and playing underscores and supports the poems and never overpowers them. She is the consummate partner/accompanist and her joy is infectious.

Three chairs are the set. Robert McQueen  re-arranges the chairs when a new location is indicated. The co-direction of Damien Atkins and Andrew Kushnir is unobtrusive—perhaps the movement of chairs can be pared down, but I leave that to further development.  

Initially the premise is that he and his two sisters, Rose and Robin, are meeting a therapist to discuss various issues, specifically with their late mother. Robert was devoted to her and as a kid loved watching her get dressed and put on her make-up. His mother seemed to like that attention.

As the ‘therapy’ session with his sisters progresses, Robert’s attention wanders to another time.  When he was an 18-year-old gay man he moved from Vancouver to New York City to study theatre. He discovered the gay culture there and was embraced and found his place. The freedom to be in that world was heady. Robert McQueen’s face glowed when recalling the memories, the life-long friends he met. I was so taken with the sparkle of the man—his eyes twinkled (no other word for it); his smile was brilliant (I irreverently wanted to know what toothpaste the man used). He went from one adventure to another. He spoke in glowing, funny terms of his many friends along the way, all spoken through his crystal, clear poems. Elegant, graceful, joyful and eventually heartbreaking.  Occasionally his attention was drawn back to the therapy session but then it wandered again to his time in New York.

And then came the scourge of AIDS. McQueen delves deeply into the valiant struggle of friends to live with the disease, the physical ravaging it caused; the emotional upheaval of a mother who rejected her dying son; the kindness of friends to get on a plane to hold the hand of a friend in hospice. McQueen’s sensitivity in dealing with these gut-punches is delicate and heart-squeezing. If one is lucky one lives to a ripe, old age and looses friends gradually. McQueen was losing friends in clumps in their and his prime of life. He bears witness to that time and gives his friends life again. We are the beneficiaries of that gift.

I hope The Real Poems has another life and that McQueen publishes his poems.   

Here for Now Theatre presents:

Plays until: Sept. 11, 2022.

Running Time: 90 minutes (no intermission)

www.herefornowtheatre.com

{ 0 comments }