World Stage

I’ve been away from home for almost 9 months now. Strangely, I haven’t felt homesick much. But there are things I miss. Mostly, it’s people (and most often my little nephews), but I also miss eating cereal at 10pm with fresh milk in my pjs, public transit I understand, and knowing where the good second-hand bookstores are.

I also miss things like the great theatre going on back at home. A festival I love and have done for years is World Stage at Harbourfront in Toronto (I clearly remember Enda Walsh’s Disco Pigs starring none other than Cillian Murphy way back in 1998, and being totally in awe of it).

Jo Strømgren Kompani’s A Dance Tribute to the Art of Football (Norway). Photo: Knut Bry

As I travel, I’ve been trying to catch shows in every country I visit, but there’s nothing like having the best of the best from around the world gather in one place.

Between now and the end of May, World Stage will be presenting shows from Norway, Germany, Belgium/Portugal, Canada and the Netherlands.

Beligan/Portuguese duo Pieter Ampe and Guilherme Garrido/CAMPO in Still Standing You. Photo: Phile Deprez

 Up next is A Dance Tribute to the Art of Football (looks seriously awesome) followed by She She Pop & Their Fathers: Testament, Still Standing You, what we are saying and finally KAMP.

KAMP – photo: Herman Helle

For more information on this year’s festival, please check out www.harbourfrontcentre.com/worldstage

If you could go check these out and report back to me, that would be amazing.

Fringe Fest Fun (and other alliterations)

July is here again (already?) and that means one thing. Actually, a few things: Canada Day, real summer vacation-time, and festivals of all kinds including the Toronto Fringe Festival.

For those of you who may not know, Fringe festivals happen across the world and showcase a whole whack of unjuried theatre pieces by anyone whose name gets pulled out of the proverbial hat.

In Toronto, that means 10 days of hurried, sweaty chaos as you bolt around Bathurst street trying to see as many of the 155 plays as possible.

At least this year I don’t also have a show to promote and worry about (although the past two summers of presenting shows at the Fringe have been absolutely amazing and I’m not going to lie and tell you I don’t miss that stress just a little bit).

I’m not a critic or reviewer, but I did want to announce that I have not seen a single ‘bad’ play so far (granted, I’ve only seen 6). So if you’re in town, you might want to check out some of these diverse theatrical experiences (in order of me seeing them):

ENGLAND

Jenna Turk and Celeste Percy-Beauregard in ENGLAND by Tim Crouch

I liked this one. A lot. It made me feel weepy in that “I’m so inspired and sad and happy” way that I haven’t experienced often. Was it just seeing my friend Jenna’s simple and stirring performance that made me teary? I don’t know. I don’t think so.  I think it was also walking around the beautiful bright 401 Richmond Gallery, the repetition of the word “look,” and the clever, economic, poetic (and yet very real) writing of Tim Crouch. As we were led around the gallery by the actors, they’d say stuff like: ”I look at these things and I don’t really understand them. I like them, but my boyfriend would understand them. He says that good art is art that sells.” I hope they sell out the rest of their shows.

OF MICE AND MORRO AND JASP

Clowns Morro and Jasp get the economic downturn to turn our frowns upside down. Photo by Alex Nirta.

A Fringe favourite, these clown sisters are back! It’s always exciting to see Amy Lee and Heather Marie Annis on stage (and off), and here they are adding their messy charm and pee-in-your-pants hilarity to the old classic I never read in high school (but let it be known that I read and loved The Pearl (my heart still hurts for you, Coyotito!)). Lots of fantastic moments (and also just the whole premise) keep me in constant awe of these theatre-makers.

WITH LOVE AND A MAJOR ORGAN

Julia Lederer and Robin Archer play strangers on the subway

A sweet play that speaks directly to our time (Google-everything + nostalgia for cassette tapes) in Julia Lederer’s own quirky, imagistic voice. Fun and oh so true, even if set in a world where organs can be lent freely- but not without consequence- to a stranger.

THE BALLAD OF HERBIE COX

Victoria Chiu and Roland Cox

An original mix of über-casual story-telling and precise, evocative dance, this Melbourne duo (trio?) kept me holding my breath. I can’t wait to get to Australia- maybe there’s more performance like this?

BUFFERING…

Shauna Wootton and Amy Cunningham as Princess and Witch

Funny, smart rhyming verse that spins fairy tale tropes into a web of fun and fancy. So much potential here, I can’t wait what this group writes next. Who knew there was still something original to do with fairy tales? Apparently there is.

VIC HARBOUR

Andrea Grant and Matthew Gin as Alice and Jimmy

I didn’t think I’d laugh so much during a ghost/abuse/drug/lighthouse story, but the two young characters are pitch-perfect, especially in the first couple of scenes. The atmosphere of a small town on the bay was palpable and inspired me to revise some of my short stories.

There are so many other plays I need/want to see, but with the departure date for my trip ‘around the world’ being only a week away, time is tight with finishing up my last week of work, preparing for my garage sale, meeting with friends for one last lunch together, and mentally preparing to leave (this includes watching Master Chef, I’ll admit).

Done and doing

It’s strange to think that by this time next month, I’ll be waking up in a dorm in the middle of the mountains of Jasper, Alberta, my first stop in a trip of undetermined length (both time- and kilometre-wise).

For now, I’m trying to live it up in hot and humid Toronto (and then suddenly cold Toronto). Potlucks and frozen coffee dates, patios and catching up with friends. The goodbyes are slowly but surely starting.

As my to-do list keeps growing, it’s slowly dawning on me that I may not be able to use up all my Groupons before I leave. So I decided I should make a tally of things I’ve already accomplished (in preparation to leave, not in life) and a few more things I need to wrap up before I go. I am the kind of person who adds things to lists so I can cross them off.

• Catch up on 7 seasons of The Closer. Done. Easy.
• Get in one last Toronto Fringe Festival. Lots of good stuff coming up July 4-15.
• Finish my online TESOL course. Just in case. Who knows what the world will bring?  1/2 way done.
• Polish off little pots and bottles of lotion, perfume, and shampoo. Ongoing.
• Get that guy I see every day on my way to work to smile back (or acknowledge the fact that we see each other every single day). Done. It only took 13 months and a lot of persistence, but he’s finally vaguely nodding when we pass each other. Sometimes this city makes me want to use a megaphone: take the ear buds out, look around, notice things, acknowledge other human beings, break through that bubble, and let’s let each other into our worlds for at least a fraction of a second once in a while.
• Have a potluck because I love potlucks and most likely won’t have the tools and means to throw one while travelling. And I’ve been told it’s a very Canadian thing to do. Is it? Done. And still recovering.

• Limit groceries to fresh produce. Eat orzo and couscous and beans that have been sitting in pantry for months. Starting now.
• Find a bit of peace in the face of that exciting abyss: stop the simultaneous freaking out and being in denial about leaving. Stop being fearful of potentially missing things like my collection of half-finished moisturizers, the comfort of understanding the transit system, listening to WireTap straight from the radio, eating frozen mango chunks straight from the bag, and people. Probably never.

Manif des casseroles, Toronto

Last night, you may have heard a bit of a cling clang clonk here and there. In over 70 locations across Canada and around the world, crowds took to the streets to show solidarity with Quebec. And by Quebec, I mean the people of Quebec. Not its government.

For a more informed view on this, you should read this article by Willy Blomme.

And for an idea of what it sounded like, you should check out this video (not by me):

I’m not particularly politically active. When it comes to politics, I tend to get frustrated, depressed, and overwhelmed and go into denial rather than get angry and active. But after the premier of Quebec’s pretty much fascist handling of student protests against tuition fees in that province, I joined the movement to show my support, my anger, and my hope that actually, this generation may not be apathetic after all.  So I put on my red shirt, grabbed a pot (actually a lid: as a seasoned casserole participant in Montreal, my mother warned me to bring something light) and a wooden spoon and made my way to Dufferin Grove Park in Toronto.

It was amazing to feel this kind of togetherness in Toronto, considering the cold, big city it sometimes is.

It’s hard to take photos while walking and clanging a pot when the light isn’t great. And being short doesn’t help. What was great was the sound, the community, the people coming out of their houses and banging on their pots as we all walked by.  Estimates put the crowd at 2,500 at its peak. I don’t think they can ignore this.

People gather at Dufferin Grove Park with their pots and pans.

The next generation is learning to be heard.

Not yet marching, but definitely loud.

Cling cling cling-cling-cling.

Gathering with neon green signs and such.

Alex and Sarah with improvised noise-makers.

I like the look of this guy.

The media was there.

Marching out of the park.

And onto the street.  So-so-so solidarité!

We marched. My ears buzzed.  Bloor Street West, Toronto.

Destination: burger

Now that I know I’m leaving, I’m already starting to look at my city differently.  I’m already feeling nostalgic for things I’ll probably be too busy to actually miss.  So when I went to meet my friend Jenna for a burger, I took my time to look up, I look around, and then I was late.

But here are a few things I saw:

View from the office as I leave.

The other day, a car crashed into our building. So that happened.

The impact of the crash (detail).

Place to staple your poster to a post.

Spring is in Toronto, which means green flowers in leafless trees.

Knox College (University of Toronto). I like this college because it's pretty, but mostly because it shares a name with my favourite character in Dead Poets Society.

Giant flower pots in the middle of the street.

ZooWoods, a long-term ecological research project of the Department of Zoology (UofT)

Full-on nature in the middle of Toronto (ZooGardens)

This is Robarts Library at the University of Toronto. Spaceship? Turkey? Turkey.

The window of the Bata Shoe Museum

One of my favourite used book stores in the city

These guys wanted me to take their picture (at least one of them did). I did not sponsor a child like they asked me to because of the religious affiliations of their particular charity. They were nice about it.

Rats of the sky, looking pretty fly.

Remember Lee's Palace? They repainted it.

Today, HotDocs opened in its new theatre.

Jenna waiting for me.

Burger! Sweet, sweet burger.

This is what my lunch break looks like

I’ll admit it, the winter (though it was far from harsh) put a bit of a damper on my idea of being a tourist in my own city.

But Spring is now in the air and I thought I’d try to see what I could see during my one-hour lunch break.  Luckily I work in a great part of Toronto, close to the university, Chinatown, and Kensington Market.

Going out with the intention of taking pictures made me look harder and forced me to frame things differently.  I also got smiled at a whole lot more, wandering the streets with a camera around my neck.

This is the view from my desk. Not bad, eh?

Hello lampost, what'cha knowing, I've come to watch your flowers growin'

Toronto isn't only skyscrappers

Sunny alleys are not scary

Toronto has a bit of everything... (Baldwin street)

View of the CN Tower from Beverley street

Creepy mannequins in a window, Spadina avenue

A hipster, some shoes, and a retro streetcar in Chinatown

Bubble tea and sugar cane juice on Spadina avenue

Some goods for sale in Chinatown, Toronto

The fruit and veg shop, Chinatown

Chinatown, Toronto

Walking from Spadina to Kensington Market

Kensington, Toronto

In Kensington Market, you can see people on tricycles choosing fresh herbs on the sidewalk

The roof of Courage My Love, my all-time favourite vintage shop in Toronto

There are hip things in Kensington, like hula-hoops

Stores in Kensington Market, Toronto

The best little spice shop, where you can get Mexican chilli powder for cheap

Shiny sunglasses

Bikes+art=Kensington

Take-out menus, College Street

College Street, Toronto

The library where I sometimes get videos and books on my lunch breaks, but not today. Today I looked.

The University of Toronto Bookstore

This is what a mailbox looks like in Canada

The UofT student centre with trees and hot dog stand

CN Tower view from the alley near my office

Wander+lust… a spontaneous night with Danny Bhoy

I like to think that I know what is going on on Toronto’s stages, but I must admit that there are times when I am just plain out of the loop (this seems to be happening more and more often… an effect of age?).

So I was really surprised that I missed the fact that Danny Bhoy- a Scottish comedian that I look up on YouTube any time I need to laugh so hard it hurts- was doing his show Wanderlust at Massey Hall in Toronto on Friday.

So what happened was: I flaked out on my plans and bought a ticket. I did have to ask myself “What would I do if I wasn’t in Toronto?” and the answer was: I’d actually be taking advantage of the place I was in.

If I were travelling and Danny Bhoy happened to be doing a show in, say, Glasgow or Reykjavik or Ballarat, or wherever I was, I’d spend £30 on a ticket without thinking about it.  I mean, look at him in that Amnesty International T-shirt.

photo from dannybhoy.com

Why was I hesitating? I plugged my nose and swallowed the $14 of fees (fees for what, Just for Laughs, fees for what?) and booked my seat in the last row of the top balcony.

I had a lovely view of a speaker, a pillar, and the top of his head when he was stage left.  But I laughed until it hurt for 90 minutes straight.

A seat with a view

Despite having to rely mostly on my ears to follow his show, I almost fell off my seat a couple of times because I was laughing so hard (maybe his hilarity combined with a bit of vertigo will do that).

It must be tough to be a comedian in the age of social media- I mean, you get to reach a huge following (example: a Scottish comedian selling out Massey Hall), but it must also mean you’d have to come up with a heck of a lot more material a lot faster than you would have had to have done even just 10 years ago.

But though I recognised some set ups and gags (as I said, I watch clips of his shows on YouTube any time I need to laugh), that didn’t matter- still I laughed.  Maybe people who don’t realise he’s not actually coming up with everything he’s saying on the spot (he’s very spontaneous in his story-telling) would be disappointed.  But they can suck it.  This show was so finely crafted and beautifully delivered that I might as well stop trying to write.

And to top it all off, Danny Bhoy seems to have the same itchy feet as me- he’s suffered from wanderlust since he was a kid, he said (hence the name of his show). And that makes me feel like we can relate, which makes me feel special, just like everyone else. His comedy plays a lot on what he’s observed throughout his travels (he tours a heck of a lot in Australia and Canada, both “stupidly big” countries) and I think you’ll agree that his accent work is spot on:

It was a brilliant show and I laughed the entire time.  From my seat in the high heavens, I could see right into the wings, and right over the audience.  Massey Hall is massive.  Its stairwells are overheated and its balcony seats are just as comfortable as very small uncomfortable pews.

The history is palpable in that place. And I’m not only talking about waves of nostalgia coming over me as I remembered one of my first real concerts, surrounded by my big brother and his cool friends, sitting in the balcony peering down at the righteous babe herself, Ani Difranco circa 1998.

Massey Hall is a very cool old building, a rarity in Toronto- a city that seems to arrogantly knock down our ever-diminishing architectural history to build condos and malls (but mostly condos).  The Hall with red doors was given to the city by the Massey family (who owned everything, and I mean everything in Toronto at the turn of last century) in 1894.  In 1975 it was designated a heritage property.  Hopefully it will stay standing for a long while and welcome more shows and concerts that I will splurge to see.

photo of Massey Hall by Ian Muttoo

Paprika Festival: that’s hot

I feel energized and old at the same time.  Energized by the talent, drive, and enthusiasm of so many young artists.  And old when I realize I’m a decade older than them.  But I just want to be their friend because they’re so cool.

This week marks the start of the 11th annual Paprika Festival, ‘Toronto’s only theatre festival celebrating the work of young and emerging artists, primarily those who are 21 and under.’

Over the past few months, I’ve had the privilege of working with the Playwrights in Residence.  I’m not sure if “working” is the right term (although scheduling busy young pro-stars is pretty work-y).

My job mostly consisted of getting the group together over tea, stew, or ice cream and having them discuss, explain, and help each other through their writing challenges and successes on their path towards a new script.  They are all much more eloquent and insightful than I have ever been.

3/4 of the Playwrights-in-Residence unit: Britta Johnson, Rosamund Small, and Sabrina White. Missing from the picture (which I stole from Paprika's Facebook), but just because he had stepped out for dinner when it was taken, which is totally fair: Wesley Colford.

This week, their creations are being read at the Tarragon Theatre, along with all the other amazing works and productions by young Paprika artists.

If you’re in Toronto and want to see and hear outstanding new work, come check it out.

It’s in the Tarragon’s awesome Extra Space, it’s only $5, and, in a few years, you could very well end up saying “I knew them when…”

And you will be humbled by the amazing talent of this group of young emerging artists, there is no question.

The Paprika Festival runs March 1st-10th at the Tarragon Theatre in Toronto.  For the schedule of shows and events, check out www.paprikafestival.com 

Next Stage Festival, Toronto

The Next Stage Festival, Toronto

For five years now, the magic of the Fringe Festival has been appearing in the the (usually) cold (but strangely April-like this year) winter.

The Next Stage Festival takes over Toronto’s Factory Theatre with a line-up of fantastic shows.  I got to catch a couple on Saturday that both made me laugh and remember how awesome the theatre kids in Toronto are.  These talented women were inspiring as they made me guffaw through tears (of laughter and also the sad kind).

The first was Modern Love, presented by Theatre Caravel, written and performed by the luminous and quick-witted Jessica Moss.  She and her character are smart, funny and absolutely heartbreaking.

Moss plays Trish, a girl who, like many of us in this wired-up, social-media-saturated, disconnected generation, is stuck in front of her screen with 660 Facebook friends but ultimately alone and trying to connect for real.

If you want to see a clever, well-acted, tightly-directed (by Eric Double) solo show that flies by and where you miss jokes because you’re laughing too hard, check it out.  It plays until the 15th of January.

In the evening, I was one of the lucky ones who’d booked ahead and nabbed a ticket for Go Bake Yourself by Fringe darlings (and just plain darlings) Morro and Jasp.

These clown sisters have very different ideas of how a cooking show should go and it makes for a very entertaining, hilarious, and endearing half hour.

Before you can shout “salmonella!,” the show’s over and your tummy’s hurting,  and not because you’re starving because the tray of hors-d’oeuvres of cracker avec fromage never got to you (luckily, they kindly provide the audience with the recipe to try at home). Your stomach is aching because you’ve laughed so hard.

It also plays until January 15th, and there may be a couple of seats left.  Who knows?  The Next Stage Festival people do- you should call them!

 

And for those of you who are scared of clowns, or hate them (because you are scared of them, most likely), please do yourself a favour and check out Morro and Jasp: Behind the Nose.  You might learn something:

Sitting still

As the 3 readers of my blog know, I’m travelling without travelling until I can travel for real. I’m trying to capture that excitement, inspiration, and openness you get when your wandering in unknown territory right here in my home city.  It sometimes works.

Today I thought I’d share some photos I took in a parked car.  Waiting to roll, sitting still.  Kind of like a metaphor for my life, right?

It was a sunny day, and quiet. A baby sleeping in the back seat.