Theatre is Territory

Archive for August, 2007

10 questions: Simon Ogden

Friday, August 31st, 2007

1) What the fuck is going on?
Oh, left work early to ride my bike to the farmers’ market to buy organic heirloom tomatoes and an amusing pinot on the way to the beach to smoke some hydro and debate olympic spending vs. the homeless “problem”. You know, Vancouvery shit.

2) What’s the current state of independent theatre in Vancouver?
Some crews have been taking turns pounding it on the chest and it definitely has a pulse, although it’s still a long way from running a marathon. The dangling carrot of the invading American TV/film industry and their buckets of cash keep most actors from considering the importance of creating a viable theatre, or from considering theatre at all, really. A lot of theatre that pops up here is the fed-up-with-commercial-auditions vanity piece – usually a LeBute or a Mamet – that contains the scene that they totally rocked in class, man, that’s thrown up for a week, poorly marketed, and never heard from again because, damn, theatre is hard work, man. Not that that’s really a bad thing, mind you, good on ’em, but it’s more of a diversionary exercise than a resuscitation attempt. Meanwhile there are several companies in town that have been putting a lot of time, energy, and love into edge-cutting and relevant stage. The foundation has been laid, as it were, now it’s time to start construction. If I may mix my metaphors.

3) How do you navigate the tricky political waters of being a theatre artists and a theatre critic in the same city?
Yeah, that’s a tough one, and to be honest, I’m still figuring it out. I went back and forth quite a bit on the decision to start critiquing, in the end it became another way to get theatre into the public consciousness, which is a big part of my personal mandate. The readership of Beyond Robson, the city life/news blog I work for (our sister site, Blog TO, does some excellent theatre coverage for the smoke by the way), is the same 20-35 demographic that we want to get into the theatres, so it made sense to start running play crits. I go into some detail about this on my blog, but in short it is my opinion that we need to understand that, while we as theatre artists may wish that our work be considered sacrosanct by virtue of our spent time and passion, the fact that we’re charging money for it makes it a consumer product, and as such we are accountable. So critics are invaluable to our audience, like it or not, and we need to develop a thicker skin about criticism. Be able to ditch the fragile ego bit and accept what is valuable in a review and discard what is not. It’s just an opinion anyway, and hopefully it’s an informed one from someone who loves the theatre, like I do.

And so, as a navigational aid, I have set myself some strict parameters. Number 1: complete honesty. Number 2: I will not review any production that I have professional ties to. And number 3: always be constructive, never destructive. I recently went to a play with the intention of reviewing it and honestly, it was so bad on so many levels that I couldn’t bring myself to tear it down as much as I would have in order to fulfill mandate #1. Seriously, it was the kind of theatre that stops people from ever going to theatre again, but it was free to the public and as such no good could possibly have come from the vitriol I would have spilled, so I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Maybe that’s cowardly, I don’t know, but that’s the grey area between artist and critic that I live in right now, so so be it.

4) How much of your work is informed by a sense of anger?
What kind of stupid fucking question is that? You’re lucky you live on the other side of the country Mackenzie, or I’d punch you right in the face.

Actually, my first hit was: anger? Me? Whaddya mean, I’m not angry…am I? And of course, a look back at my body of work to date reveals that there’s levels of anger in the genesis of all of it, which, upon further consideration, is as close an approximation to my personal definition of the true nature of art as I have ever considered. The play I’m working on right now, set in a bar, is entirely about the consequences of anger, as a matter of fact. Revelatory, thank you.

5) How do you approach writing dialogue?
I actually consider dialogue the easy part of playwrighting, I’ve noticed that there’s a lot of unnecessary trepidation around it for new writers. We all know how people talk, we’re immersed in natural conversation every day, those rhythms are part of our cellular structure. I just transcribe what the characters are saying to each other in my head and when I hear me talking instead of them, I stop writing. And when I’m really stuck, I simply flip to a random page of Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? or check my Overheard in New York feed for a refresher course in how to write dialogue. I find the hard part to be structuring surprise, which to me is what a satisfying theatre experience is all about, at all stations: writing, acting, direction, lights, soundscape, and audience interplay. Great theatre is all about little surprises.

6) What quality in other artists do you most dislike when you see it?
I’ll give you three of them: ego, ego, and oh, I going to have to go with ego here. Show me generosity of spirit and action and I’ll show you great art. I do not care how wonderfully wonderful and beautiful and talented you are, because the story you are telling doesn’t care about those things. On stage you are in the service of the other actors, who are all in the service of the story, which is in the service of the community. You wanna know how to tell if someone is a great actor or not? Watch how well they listen when they’re not regurgitating their memorized words.

7) What have you learned about your community through your experiences as a theatre blogger?
That for the theatre community here, the internet as a marketing tool is a strange, irrelevant animal. I was inspired to start a theatre blog by this post by Darren Barefoot, a prolific local blogger and marketer who wrote and staged a fringe play on a whim a few years back. And if you google “Vancouver theatre blog” right now you’ll get pretty much . . . me. The international theatre blogosphere is fantastic, however, sharp, controversial, articulate, it’s become a brand new form of theatre in its own right, actually. But seeing that the key to a healthy theatre is local communication, that really does me no good here. I’ve heard the argument that new technology is at odds with the very convention of the theatre, but that’s kind of the point, we’re going to have to evolve to survive. Blogging is not a technologist’s medium, it’s a writer’s medium, and theatrists in this town have to embrace that, as well as internetworking (I may have just coined that), just as so many other specialized interest groups have. I wrote one post on BR about skateboarding and got 14 comments, I’ve written 10 theatre posts and gotten 4 comments. Let’s talk it up out there, people! Hey batta, swing batta!

8) How do we attract more non-artists (such as accountants, producers, lawyers and marketers) to our industry?
Well, we could – I know this sounds crazy, but hear me out – ask them? Before our first production we called up Paul Armstrong, a local indie film and music video producer, and asked him if he would consider coming down to meet the crew and hearing a pitch, and he is now not only our producer, but he shows up for every script reading and workshop session we have. He hasn’t made a dime off us yet, poor chap, but he has faith.

I think theatre is an art form that non-artists love to be identified with. Its image is one of social consciousness and commentary without radicalism (I’m speaking here of its perception, not necessarily its reality), and as such it’s perfect for organizations looking to “give back” to the community. They’re also looking for the write-offs too, don’t forget. We need to exploit theatre’s art-cool image to our fullest advantage, and professionally approach these offices in town that have expertise in necessary production areas that we, as artists, simply don’t (or shouldn’t, for that matter). If we can get stage managers, fundraising venues, and poster designers to donate their time and assets, why can’t we get an accountant to do so as well?

9) What does feminism mean to you?
As with any movement whose goal is human parity, be it gender, ethnicity, class, or sexuality based, I’m saddened that it’s still so necessary. I fancied myself a feminist playwright at one point, based on the work I was turning out, until I realized that just writing stories sympathetic to women doesn’t make one a feminist, and to wear that badge without a commitment to full advocacy is merely paying lip-service to what I in truth consider to be a self-evident truism, not a battle I chose to fight. I feel very fortunate to have been raised and educated in so tolerant a household and community that I can be a true individualist, to be able to judge each book by its story, as it were.

10) As a writer, what are you better at now than you were five years ago.
Malleability. Here’s the best advice I can offer to aspiring playwrights: find yourself a small group of actors whom you trust and consider brilliant and workshop your script with them. During this part of the process let them be loose with your lines a little and allow them to bring their honest reactions to what’s coming towards them. Give them scenarios to improv, ask them to act out stories from their own experience that relate to the work, trust them with your baby. You’ll be astonished at the universal truths that will emerge, and you have but to record them (and take all the credit in the bargain).

Confession time: I have transcribed whole monologues verbatim from actor’s improvs, magnificent material that I am nowhere near talented enough to come up with on my own. We as theatre artists are a mirror to the world around us, not within us, and as playwrights let’s face it, we’re merely keeping minutes.

The liberty of ignorance – Part Two

Tuesday, August 28th, 2007
L-R: James Spears, Greg Kirk, Simon Rice and Sara Wood in Waiting for Godot.

The second in a series of short, photo-inspired essays on what it means – and how it feels – to be young, inexperienced and in love with the theatre.

Waiting – and waiting – for Godot
By Greg Kirk

The early stages of any self-initiated project are always fragile. Everyone has an idea that could easily – with difficulty – be transformed into something significant. However, the effort to actualize that idea usually produces no real indication of its significance.

When Simon Rice and I completed our production of Glengarry Glen Ross, our friends and family were all supportive, and the initial high of accomplishment made us take for granted that we were in the pioneering stages of something real and lasting. But as the days and weeks passed, life just eased back into its previous routines. I would get the occasional question about what show we would do for our sophomore effort, but it became easier and easier to just unthinkingly answer, “we’ll see.”

Fortunately, Simon went on a trip to England for a couple of months shortly after Glengarry (and, crucially, before life could drag him into the familiarity in which I was mired). With Simon gone and theatre far from my thoughts, I received a message from his mother that he’d been reading Samuel Beckett’s Waiting for Godot and planned to direct it as our next show. Whatever momentum I had lost, he still had it.

I think this is one of the key advantages of a partnership. I simply don’t believe that we human beings have the proper perspective to independently run our lives well. We need to disrupt the flow of our own familiar thoughts with those of others. This is a reminder that our way isn’t the only way. I believe this is what we call “inspiration.” Simon still had it, and I reacquired it from him.

The kids stay in the show

Despite our numerous responsibilities as director (Simon) and producer (me), we cast ourselves as Vladimir and Estragon, the two leads that also happen to be on stage for the duration of the show. This occasionally made for a tense set, as no doubt the other actors would attest. It is certainly difficult to receive notes from someone, and immediately continue a scene opposite them – especially when those notes are given during the peak of intensity. But there were a number of reasons for doing it this way:

First, we simply didn’t yet know many people in the theatre community. We were all we had, and consequently had to wear many hats. Second, when you have yet to work with many other people on an artistic vision, it often feels as though the influence of others is a corrupting one; it takes time to recognize that others can respond to your vision, and can even enhance it. Third, at that stage, it was never clear how many opportunities would become available, so it made sense to take this chance to perform, direct, promote, and do absolutely everything for the show.

A quiet audience
What we failed to anticipate with this second production was that we were performing a considerably more opaque play for an audience predominately made up of friends and family, i.e., not really theatre people. Performing bombastic, profanity-laced monologues from Glengarry was easy, and a real crowd pleaser. At the end of the show, if you got charged up during your big scene, you knew it was good, and the audience clapped loudly.

Godot, on the other hand, can leave people a little pensive. The tepid applause we received opening night, from an audience all of whose names I knew, made me think we had failed somehow.

We went backstage and I said something like, “They sure didn’t love it.” I’ll never forget Simon’s response. He said: “Well, they probably didn’t understand it, so they’ll think that it’s art.” Looking back, I now think it was our best show.


Cast and crew of Waiting for Godot from L to R
Amy Withers as The Boy, James Spiers as Pozzo, Nick Drake the Stage Manager,
Simon Rice as Vladimir, Greg Kirk as Estragon, Sarah Wood as Lucky.

Our production played a little with gender. The role of Lucky, Pozzo’s (mostly) mute slave, is written into the text as a man. We thought it would add a provocative dimension to that relationship if it were a woman. This may or may not have been a little shallow, thematically, however, it produced an excellent performance from Wood, who went on to direct for Praxis Theatre.

We performed Godot at the Annex Theatre. The above photo was taken during rehearsal for a scene in which Vladimir and Estragon first encounter the bizarrely aristocratic Pozzo and his tethered partner, Lucky. During the actual performance, the stage was covered in leaves and a few hidden rocks. One night, when I jumped to the ground to eat Pozzo’s chicken bones, I unhappily discovered one of those rocks as it punctured the skin of my knee. I’m sure I yelped inexplicably, but it did provide a natural blood stain that was in continuity with the beginning of the second act, in which Estragon enters having been beaten the night before.

Me, in costume as Estragon watching a scene. You’ll notice I am wearing suspenders. We thought they looked better than the rope around the waist that Mr. Beckett’s script calls for. One of the unfortunate consequences of this decision made itself apparent at the end of the second act. The script calls for Estragon to take his rope belt off – causing his pants to fall down – and suggest they use it to hang themselves. They tug on it to test it, and it rips. We did the same with the suspenders, except they were elastic. Simon, as Vladimir, would always let go of them, causing us to fall down clownishly. Every night I expected the clasps to be sent careening towards my eyes. Every night I would be relieved as they merely welted me in the stomach or shoulder.

Greg Kirk, Sara Wood and Simon Rice in Waiting for Godot.

So funny I forgot to laugh

Monday, August 27th, 2007

Question: Anybody know of any good comedy writing resources? Comedy theory texts? Or any other resources that may provide some concrete ideas for dialing up the hilarity in a piece of writing?

10 questions: Daniel MacIvor

Friday, August 24th, 2007

1) What the fuck is going on?
I’m floating in that odd place in finishing a draft of a new play where one is at once giddily joyous and bone-crunchingly despondent. In other words, same old same old.

2) How has your creative process changed since you graduated from theatre school in 1986?
It’s easier and harder. That is to say, there are fewer questions but more answers. That is to say, as one ages one’s concerns narrow but the possibilities become endless. That is to say, I know what I want but I’m not sure what everybody else wants.

3) How does Halifax compare to Toronto, from a theatrical standpoint?
Halifax is more like Victoria. There are not a lot of independent theatre companies, and certainly none with a home. And there are maybe one or two experimental companies. The good thing is that both theatre artists and audiences are hungry for interesting work so there is much room for development.

4) Do you see any contradiction between your “nothing is enough” minimalist aesthetic and the richness of the characters you create to inhabit that “blank” space?
It’s like life. We’re all just humans: skin, organs, eyeballs, bones and so on but within each human is an unfathomably rich universe of unknowable mystery.

5) Do you have any unifying theories about theatre and its relationship to community?
We need it to see ourselves. There should be a theatre in every neighbourhood. Like 7-Elevens.

6) What do you see as Daniel Brooks’ greatest strengths as a theatre director?
Brilliance. And apart from that a very healthy combination of self-doubt and ego.

7) How do you feel about your recent trip to Tokyo?
I love that city. I feel I could live there. Chaos and Order living together functionally. I also liked the fact that, as a non-Christian, I wasn’t constantly having to deal with Christian iconography. All these towering steeples and American news networks can get to one.

All photos by Guntar Kravis

8) Have you ever crossed a line during a performance that you’d like never to cross again?
Being in a one man show and getting angry at the audience is never a good idea. And I’m always wrong. I think they’re bored but they’re listening. And once when doing Here Lies Henry in Vancouver at the Cultch, I came off the stage to get in the face of an older gent who had fallen asleep. When he woke up and saw me nose-to-nose he nearly had a heart attack. That would have probably stopped the show.

9) Are there any new stories being told?
I guess I’d have to say no, but the soul each teller brings to each story is unique.

10) What do you know now that you wish you knew when you were younger?
It is impossible to please people who don’t know what they want. And on a superficial note, I wish I knew how good I looked at 25 when I was 25.

What + Why = Who

Wednesday, August 22nd, 2007

New York-based playwright Joshua James is continuing his great Rapping on writing series at his Daily Dojo blog. Two great and recent posts cover The Dialogue Mix (in which he uses passages from The Departed as talking points) and Character Issues, in which he introduces – and riffs on – this killer equation: what + why = who. Awesome. Check it out.

GoLiveToronto

Tuesday, August 21st, 2007

A cool TAPA initiative. Check it out here.

10 questions: Jennifer Norton

Friday, August 17th, 2007
Photo by Shawn McPherson.

1) What the fuck is going on?
Well, as we choke on the ubiquity of war, pollution, crumbling social structures and global malaise I am preparing a solo show. How dandy!

Here is the more polite, less misanthropic answer. I am finishing a master of fine arts program at The University of Guelph, then will immediately embark upon a seven-month road trip that ends in the Yukon where my partner and I have an artist residency.

2) How has your experience as a circus performer influenced the performative elements of your multimedia artwork?
I worked as a stilt walker, clown and face painter in a Toronto-based circus and as performer in an outdoor theater troupe. I toddled where other performers strode, but being in that environment with so much extraordinary talent literally tumbling around me was influential to me. Circus performers are inherently aware of and directly address the construct of the spectacle. They invoke the burlesque and grotesque, the whimsical and horrific, creating a synergy of opposing feelings that I hope to employ in my work. Also, I am not afraid of making incredibly goofy work – as long as goofy is done right. Clowns have always amazed me with their ability to emote a complex range of sentiment and meaning through a simple gesture. They provide a seemingly safe conduit to approach risqué or contentious themes.

3) What does “performance” mean to you?
It is difficult to draw distinctive lines as to what is or isn’t a performance. I think that a performance is a reciprocal experience, in that the awareness of an audience adds to or affects a performer’s decision making.

Technology augments the potential for diverse performance and performance venues; performance doesn’t necessarily require the performer to be physically present with or ‘live’. The consideration of the audience I speak of does not disappear along with the physical presence of the performer – in fact one must consider their potential audience in an unprecedented manner.

For instance the Surveillance Camera Players, originally based in New York, perform for an audience that is comprised of security guards and employees of public and private spaces by means of security cameras.

A kid on YouTube performs for hordes of individual viewers, and they can respond with their own DIY performative video for the world to see and so on. Each performance is affected by the last, and the anticipation of what’s to come. It is a wonderful moment when the roles of performer and audience are blurred.

4) Is the movement element of a kinetic sculpture a kind of performance?
Yes it can be, but for me the real performance occurs in the behavioral and interactive elements of the sculpture, in the experience between object and viewer. I mean, the disk drive of a computer moves, but I don’t really think of it as a performance, it is a function. Movement is a step towards animating an object, I suppose, but movement is more meaningful when it is emphasized by an experiential element brought into the equation by an audience, or viewer.

An example of this is a cartoonishly menacing six feet tall bear I made that would hug viewers who sat in its lap. Its heated stomach would then vibrate and the bear released the viewer when they moved to stand up. Without the participants action the bear was more or less a big furry chair. It was the active role of the viewer that created something interesting for others to watch, whether the viewer was cautious or unabashed, self-conscious or hammy.

5) Do viewers of your work tend to “understand” it in terms that you feel comfortable with?
Accessibility is extremely important to me when I am considering a project. When I was just wee I made work that was deeply personal, coded, symbolic and somewhat opaque. I was disappointed when people didn’t understand what I was trying to communicate, so I decided to create work that could function within a larger cultural dialogue, allowing greater entry for an audience. A successful piece to me is something that communicates creatively yet effectively. There must be room for the viewer to consider and use their own imagination; otherwise it becomes more of an illustration of your idea than an engaging experience.

Art that draws from the world, not solely from personal experience or cultural theory that creates a discourse that is inclusive rather than esoteric is most interesting to me.

6) Do you feel that you are part of a strong community of like-minded artists?
I was lucky to attend OCAD in Toronto during an exciting time with some ambitious and talented people. I am still friends with many of these people, am inspired by their practice and often exhibit with them. Creative energy is contagious.

7) What does feminism mean to you?
I am not sure if there has ever been a more misunderstood word. Feminism is recognizing that it is OK to say that you are one. Feminism is unabashedly excelling in what you believe in and where your talents lie. Feminism means you don’t have to apologize for disagreeing. Feminism is realizing that it is not time to give up on feminism. I wish I was a better feminist.

8) How do you feel about the parameters of traditional theatre (the stage, the lights, the audience)?
I dig it. There is a place for everything. Innovation is always exciting, and necessary, but tradition is important too.

9) Did your various art school experiences (at OCAD and the University of Guelph) prepare you well for a career as a working artist?
Nothing can prepare you to work as an artist. Everyone has to define ‘success’ on their own term and figure out what that means. There is no recipe that can be taught to navigate an art market (but if there is please let me know). School can only inform you of what already exists and its up to you to figure out what to do with that knowledge.

10) Why is pop culture worth subverting?
Whack loads of people think that media critique has had its day in the eighties, or that it is juvenile. Should satire cease to exist? I can’t think of a time in history in which it has been more crucial. Political and capitalist entities occupy so much real estate within our attention by way of the most popular of all domestic appliances, the television. Mass media doesn’t have to be a one-way feed. Pop culture and the subversion of it should be made up of many voices, and I believe that is beginning to happen on some level. As a society we share a collective identity – that identity should be decentralized! I am very optimistic about the Internet providing a democratized venue for video, music, news and art – in short pop culture.

Not just for laughs

Thursday, August 16th, 2007

“After a close examination of the existing literature on performance art, it is remarkable to see how much of the emphasis has been placed on the grim, the intense, and the masochistic. Indeed, performance audiences have come to expect to be shocked, to witness artists being covered with bodily fluids, pierced, hung, confined, and/or mutilated. Transgressive, taboo expression gets the lion’s share of attention from both the press and the academy, and fuels both the curiosity and outrage of the public . . .

“The images of women’s performances from the 70s, in particular, which have received the most attention in art history are those of women stuffed, bound, and naked. One cannot deny the power of these images. Ana Mendieta’s raped and bloodied body, Adrian Piper’s stuffed mouth, Angelika Festa’s bound body, or Gina Pane’s scarred body are images that still have the potential to provoke strong reactions . . .

“Is the legacy of performance art as austere body art – a medium that canonizes self-inflicted pain – so all encompassing that there is no room for other strategies? Where are the strong, positive, celebratory images of women in performance art history? I do not intend to disavow the extreme work wholesale; rather, I hope to demonstrate how humour is as serious a performance strategy, and that those artists who employed it in the 70s and early 80s were not held in as high esteem as those who performed trauma.”

– Tanya Mars
Caught in the act: an anthology of performance art
by Canadian Women

Script submission guidelines?

Monday, August 13th, 2007

Here’s a quick link to an interesting post at Mr. Excitement News on script submission guidelines for smaller theatre companies. Check it out here.

Further questions:
Do most small theatre companies have firm script submission guidelines? What works? What doesn’t? Any tips?

UPDATE:

More further questions:
What works for playwrights? How do you prefer to send your scripts (email or hard copy via snail mail)? Do playwrights prefer sending PDFs or Word documents? What is the minimum response you expect from the theatre company? Other than having the company produce a full production of your script, are there any secondary benefits a playwright can hope for when submitting a script (workshop, reading, feedback, etc.)?

10 questions: Frances Shakov

Friday, August 10th, 2007
STAF staff (L-R): Erica Reuter, Jackie McApline, Frances Shakov, Felicia Bana.

1) What the fuck is going on?
We ask ourselves this on a daily (actually, hourly) basis. We love our clients and we love the work we do – but it is demanding and everyone wants something right now, damn it. Can’t they bloody well wait?

2) What is STAF?
The party line – at least, the thing we write on our own grant applications – is that “STAF is a non-profit arts service organisation funded by the OAC, TAC and CCA, with a mandate to provide a variety of subsidised administration services to the independent theatre community.”

STAF stands for the archaic-sounding “Small Theatre Administration Facility and we’ve been around since 1992. We have a Board (Buddies’ Jim LeFrançois, LKTYP’s Craig Morash, Cahoots’ Jovanni Sy, Nightwood’s Kelly Thornton and Threshold’s Mark Cassidy) and four staff as well as a few people on contract, as needed.

3) Do you feel that STAF is currently living up to the spirit of its mandate?
Yes. Apart from the over 60 clients who came through the door last year wanting anything from grant writing to bookkeeping and marketing services, we’ve also launched some new initiatives that are beyond the regular admin stuff, such as grant writing workshops and a low-cost flyer and poster distribution service.

Our newest project is a professional development program that launches in September 07 for indie theatre artists called The Reality Check Series. We will be running workshops such as Who’s your daddy? (about sponsorships), Who are you people and what have you done with my theatre company? (about Boards), The devil has your soul and you’re lost in Internet translation (about marketing) and Masters of the universe: fact or fiction? (about agents and accountants).

4) Why are there so many artists yet so few administrators in Toronto’s independent theatre community?
It’s such a multi-layered problem, from a lack of funding to a lack of admin internship and professional development opportunities. Indie artists can just about squeeze enough money out of the granting agencies to pay for the actors, venue rentals and production materials – they really can’t afford to pay for administrators. And let’s face it, administration is not that glamorous. It is hard work and we are really underpaid and the accolades are not that frequent.

So, what is STAF doing about this? Well, a little knowledge is not a dangerous thing in administration and so running professional development workshops will help, I hope. And we also provide intern opportunities – as of September, we will have three on the go.

5) What advice would you give a small independent theatre company looking to solidify and optimize its organizational structure?
There are many different kinds of operating models and the small independent theatre company (regardless of if it is registered non-profit, a collective or an ad hoc) has to have an infrastructure in place that allows the artists to do the artistic work and not too much of the admin. The real unsung heroes here are the indie artists who are doing their own administration, often without remuneration.

For instance, the kind of infrastructure that Theatre Smith-Gilmour (TSG) has is very different than the kind of infrastructure that Sky Gilbert has. Both are STAF clients but their level of artistic activity drives the infrastructure STAF provides for them. We do everything for TSG and the company also does international touring and so they have an international touring agent. For Sky, we only do grant writing, Equity contracts and marketing, which is fine as he only produces one main stage a show a year. TSG is a registered charity and so we do the bookkeeping. Sky is not a registered charity and so he can work on spreadsheets.

I also advise the small independent theatre company to stay away from highly structured and formal Boards – indie artists don’t need them and they just end up having an additional infrastructure that they have to support and answer to. They should surround themselves with supporters: people who love the work, who can bring people to the shows, who can help get tons of in-kind. Call them a Board if you want.

As long as things are well planned, well organised and the artists can remain accountable to their granting partners and supporters, then a small independent theatre company has the legs it needs to fulfill its artistic mandate.

6) What’s the minimum accounting infrastructure you would recommend for a smaller independent theatre company?
Purchasing QuickBooks or Simply Accounting is not really necessary. Spreadsheets are Gods for the indie theatre artist: for budgets, bank deposits and cheque-writing records, and organising petty cash. We have a plethora of templates at STAF that we are always willing to send to indie theatre artists.

STAF offices at 192 Spadina Avenue in Toronto.

7) What are some of the common mistakes you see on grant applications?
Not getting organised well ahead of time, which is important, given that with most indie theatre companies, everyone is writing a separate section of the grant.

Some theatre artists are so dazzled by their own prose that their writing is totally incomprehensible. The late broadcaster Peter Gzowski said, “When writing, throw away your darlings,” which means don’t get caught up in catchy turns of phrasing that make sense to the writer but not the reader. The Selection Committees have well over 100 applications to read, so your application has to be clear and concise and in order, according to the guidelines. And there’s no such thing as entitlement – no one “deserves” to get a grant. If there is an inkling of entitlement in a grant application, it will piss off the Selection Committee in a very big way.

The Theatre Officer is your friend. They are your advocates at the committee level. They do not make the decision, but can nudge the committee along. So, call the OAC and TAC Theatre Officers well before the grant deadline and arrange to meet to chat about your project. The CCA is a bit more difficult as everyone is responsible for project grants, but contact someone in the Theatre Section to get advice: Bob Allen is older than dirt but he knows the CCA jury system inside out, and Lorne Pardy is open and easy to talk to.

Not understanding the selection process is another. For instance, project funding is mostly granted on artistic merit, so sending in an application without a director’s statement and casting are going to loose big points. I did a grant review last week and among the many problems with the grant application, the director and actors had not been decided upon. Strangely, the company thought that this was OK and that their play selection mandate was good enough.

Writing a grant is not as daunting as it first seems . . . and attending the all-day STAF grant writing workshop helps!

8) What can theatre makers do to further stretch their marketing and PR spend?
Building audiences is all about building relationships, so keeping a good database is important. Don’t only “talk” to them if you want them to buy a ticket. Keep them informed as to what you are doing year round. So, doing great e-blasts is very much OK as long as it doesn’t become intrusive.

NOW and eye weekly love to do media sponsorships and will up the buy, which allows for the advertising dollar to be stretched.

Don’t pester the press. A good clear press release goes a long way to being well received. Words like “unique” and “exceptional” and “creative” don’t cut it anymore – people like Jon Kaplan have been doing this stuff for years and know when a press release is full of shit.

STAF offices at 192 Spadina Avenue in Toronto.

9) How would you characterize the relationship between actors’ unions and theatre companies in Toronto?
It’s a difficult one and the relationship with Equity can be contentious at times, but there are some good officers who really know their stuff. Collective bargaining and protecting workers is of course important, but if the arts were funded to a degree that artists could earn a living wage, maybe unions would not be needed. But that’s a big pipe dream and certainly not a reality in this current political climate.

10) When you look at the varied landscape of Toronto’s independent theatre community, what are you most optimistic about?
I have a huge admiration for independent theatre artists who take a risk and put themselves out there. The community is extraordinary active and there is some remarkable work being done, especially the site-specific work. Given the lack of affordable space at the moment, we’ll probably see more, which is good as it breaks down barriers which leads to dialogue. There’s nothing better than a bit of glasnost
to keep a community vibrant and healthy!

George Hunka’s 95 sentences about theatre

Thursday, August 9th, 2007

George Hunka over at Superfluities started this great project back in March ’07 . . . and finished it a couple of days ago.

A sampling:

20. In taking into the theatre the languages of mass culture, of advertising and marketing, we prove we have fallen in love with our screens.

30. The language of the stage must lose its stammer.

69. The typical member of the community does not throw the first stone; but he eventually reveals his ego, if not his self; he throws the fifth or sixth, then gleefully jumps around, telling everyone that he was the first.

Click here to read all of Hunka’s 95 sentences about theatre. (Thank you to Isaac Butler and Matt Freeman for the head’s up.)

Miss Marker at SummerWorks

Thursday, August 9th, 2007

For more info on this SummerWorks show, click here. And if you get a moment, check out this production’s awesome press stills gallery. Wow! It’s great to see so much care taken with the media materials – and is it just us, or are these images so clearly not digital?

Here’s the company’s mandate statement:

Making Face Theatre is a new Toronto-based company dedicated to producing high-calibre and thought-provoking theatre through a process of creative collaboration and critical investigation.”

Lift up your shirt!

Tuesday, August 7th, 2007

Essential Collective Theatre Co.’s Hard Ways at SummerWorks.
Click here for more info.

SummerWorks in Toronto

Sunday, August 5th, 2007

Heres the festivals Artistic Vision statement:

“SummerWorks supports work that has a clear artistic vision and explores a specific theatrical aesthetic. It encourages risk, questions, and creative exploration while insisting on accessibility, integrity and professionalism. SummerWorks is the place where dedicated, professional artists are free to explore new territory and take artistic risks. Rather than getting larger, we strive to get better. We look to introduce professional artists from diverse communities to each other and be inspired by our similarities and differences.”

Here’s the link to the festivals website.

And a press still from one of the productions in the festival, In Full Light:

Brendan Gall and Gina Wilkinson.

New political theatre

Thursday, August 2nd, 2007

Ok. We already know that the good people at The Wrecking Ball are wicked smart. (Click here for ample evidence.) The even better news is that they’ve put together a special SummerWorks show for this Saturday night. (Click here for more info.)