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.
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.
I got tired of refreshing my inbox, waiting for someone to tell me that I didn’t get an amazing apprenticeship at a cool theatre in Washington.
This is me waiting. (Actually, this is me during dissertation-writing time/heatwave, Norwich, 2006, but you get the idea.)
So I decided to not wait anymore, and I went ahead and booked myself a one-way ticket to New Zealand.
I don't have any pictures of New Zealand yet, so this photo of one of my T-shirts will have to serve to illustrate it for now. See, it's an anatomical drawing of a kiwi bird made out of kiwi fruit and I love it.
I bought the ticket online, without cancellation insurance, over morning coffee, half-asleep.
The plan is to go around the world and what I have now is a ticket from Los Angeles to New Zealand. And the knowledge that I’ll have to get to Los Angeles from Toronto somehow
What I don’t have is a budget or a plan. I haven’t actually really thought about it. I’ve thought about it, but I haven’t really thought about it if you know what I mean. That’s how it’s done, kids.
Close your eyes and jump off that cliff. And hope that at the bottom, there’s a deep pool to land in, one so buoyant it acts more like a refreshing trampoline.
I’m waiting for an answer. I’m pretty sure that answer will be “no” and that I’ll have an entire year of freedom in front of me to fill.
What am I saying “a year”? I’ll have whatever time I have in front of me free and empty…
See, my steady nine to five life is coming to an end in three months and then… what?
This is what freedom/standing at the edge of the unknown looks like. Except that in this metaphor, there should only be one shadow. (Ngorongoro Crater, Tanzania)
There are two (known and admittedly awesome) ways this thing called my life could go starting in July.
I’ve applied for a year-long directing internship at a fantastic theatre that will remain nameless for jinxing purposes. I’ve been waiting for an answer, a hint either way, for a couple of months now (that’s what you get when you apply early… damned keenness).
I feel like I’ll know soon, but it’ll never be soon enough (patience running out). I’ve given myself permission to email them on Wednesday to see what’s up. Maybe they don’t tell losers they didn’t get it.
If I don’t get it (which is likely), that means I’m actually going around the world. Actually, this time. (Last time I had this plan, it ended up being a 5-week trip to East Africa which, while absolutely amazing, was not around the world, I’m sure you’ll agree.)
Another world. But not actually around the world. Kenya, November 2010.
So while I’ve been waiting for the inevitable “sorry, we’ve chosen someone else for this internship,” I’ve found a cheap ticket to the other side of the globe. But I’m waiting for that no first. Because it might not be a “no”.
I’ve found out what the exchange rate is for the Fijian dollar. I’ve realized I have enough Via Preference points to get from Toronto to Vancouver on the train for free. I’ve looked at backpack options at MEC and even elsewhere. I’ve promised friends in India and California I’ll visit.
I’m ready to go! Or rather, I’m ready to start thinking of getting ready to go!
This also is a metaphor. Lamu, Kenya.
But what if I get the internship? Then I’d pack up a suitcase and jump on a bus to get a year of experience in the field I’m desperate to work in, a field that seems pretty impenetrable at the moment. They don’t pay much (what’s new?), but they give you an apartment to live in (!). It’s too perfect not to believe it wasn’t made for me. But last year, when I applied, it wasn’t meant for me. Visualisation exercises don’t work, by the way. They just make for harsh awakenings.
But this year, my harsh awakening will be that of getting to travel, getting to throw my savings into flights and travel gizmos and a new camera.
Lamu, Kenya. November 2010.
So… any tips on managing impatience and lack of control? Because I am starting to lose it.
Even with translations, theatre festivals like the World Stage in Toronto, and theatre companies touring the globe, it’s sometimes possible to get a glimpse of the theatre that is happening around the world.
But theatre is a live event, and you have to actually be in a place, during a time, to experience it. And thing is, with the Internet, we know what shows we’re missing in the places we are not.
So it got me thinking: if I were somewhere else in the world on March 27th, which play would I attend to celebrate World Theatre Day?
Here are a few of my picks (turns out the world is big and there’s a lot going on). Maybe one of you could go check these out for me and report back?
I’m going to start with my top pick (because it’s a festival of international theatre, so I’m totally cheating) and the rest is in no particular order.
BOGOTÁ, Colombia Festival Iberoamericano de Teatro The Latin American Theatre Festival is like the best of the entire world of theatre crammed into one city. Theatre will literally be spilling out of traditional theatre spaces and into the streets. 33 countries are represented, but Romania is featured this year, which should mean there’ll be a lot of bold, theatrical stuff out there. Such as:
Lydia Wilson and Jack Gordon in ’Tis Pity She’s a Whore, at BAM Photo by Richard Termine
LONDON, England Roald Dahl’s Matilda the Musical by Dennis Kelly (book) and Tim Minchin (music+lyrics)
At the Cambridge Theatre
Because I adored the book so much as a child and that my doubts about this one were squashed by people who know what they’re talking about. It’s got swings! And it doesn’t seem to have washed out too much of Roald Dahl’s irreverence and joy.
The RSC Production of Roald Dahl's Matilda The Musical. Photo by Manuel Harlan
BERLIN, Germany Lulu by Frank Wedekind, directed by Robert Wilson.
At the Berliner Ensemble
Because I don’t know where would be better to see this twisted, gritty, expressionist play about the rise and fall of a femme fatale than at the theatre founded by Brecht in 1949. And with the legendary Robert Wilson at the helm and music by Lou Reed, I’d be there in a heartbeat (knowing full well I wouldn’t understand a word). Just look at it:
WELLINGTON, New Zealand Peninsula by Gary Henderson, directed by Jane Waddell
At Circa Theatre Because it’s about a kid who sleeps on a volcano.
Peninsula
SYDNEY, Australia Every Breath written and directed by Benedict Andrews
At Belvoir St Theatre
Because I’m obsessed with Benedict Andrews (check out the production photos on his website and you’ll see what I mean) and I’d be curious to see a show written by such an imaginative, innovative, courageous director.
Every Breath
NEW YORK, United States of America Once- the musical. By Glen Hansard and Markéta Irglová (music+lyrics), Enda Walsh (book), directed by John Tiffany
At the Bernard B. Jacobs Theatre
This is a Broadway musical based on one of the most subtly romantic, charmingly unpretentious films, so my initial reaction upon hearing this play existed was a terrified guffaw. I love the movie. But then I saw that the book was written by Enda Walsh. So it couldn’t be too bad. I’d go because it could be good.
Photo: Sara Krulwich/The New York Times
CALGARY, Canada Mary’s Wedding by Stephen Massicotte, directed by Bob White
At Martha Cohen Theatre, Alberta Theatre Projects
A beautiful script full of things Canadians love (horses, weddings, the First World War…), staged at one of Canada’s most exciting theatres (which I have never been to).
CAPE TOWN, South Africa Brothers in Blood by Mike van Graan, directed by Greg Homan
At Artscape
This one looks explosive, taking on as many taboo topics as will fit in one award-winning play: xenophobia, religious arrogance, the drug trade, fatherhood…
Brothers in Blood
MONTREAL, Canada Midsummer (une pièce et neuf chansons) by David Greig and Gordon McIntyre, translated by Olivier Choinière, directed by Philippe Lambert
At La Petite Licorne/La Manufacture
This “play and nine songs” was a hit at the Edinburgh Fringe a few years ago, and that it’s being staged at my favourite theatre in Montreal (which happens to have a long history of staging amazing translationsof new Scottish, Irish, and British plays), so it’s bound to be awesome.
Isabelle Blais and Pierre-Luc Brillant Photo credit: Suzane O'Neill
PARIS, France The Suit by Peter Brook and Marie-Helène Estienne, based on the story by Can Themba
At Théâtre des Bouffes du Nord
Because it’s a musical by Peter Brook.
TOKYO, Japan Condors “Hungry Like a Wolf” directed and choreographed by Ryohei Kondo
At the Setagaya Public Theatre A children’s show that combines dance, theatre, skits, and puppetry. I’m in, if a kids’ show looks like this:
photo by HARU
VIENNA, Austria Das blinde Geschehen by Botho Strauß, directed by Matthias Hartmann
At Burgtheater I can only get so far with Google translate, so I’m not too sure what this is about, but it’s really just the images of this play that make me want to jump on a plane and go to Austria.
Alexandra Henkel, Christiane von Poelnitz, Adina Vetter, Regina Fritsch, Hermann Scheidleder, and Sabine Haupt. Photo copyright: Reinhard Werner, Burgtheater
Photo copyright: Reinhard Werner, Burgtheater
HONG KONG, China Diving in the Moment directed by 張藝生
At the Hong Kong Repertory Theatre I’m not sure exactly what this play is, but it looks cool. [Stay tuned for more fascinating and informed insights like this one- subscribe to my blog.]
Diving in the Moment
SINGAPORE Krishnan’s Diary by Jacob Rajan
At the Singapore Repertory Theatre Apparently this play takes two of the most universal Indian clichés – the Taj Mahal and the corner store – and fuses them into a funny and touching love story. An Indian play about a couple who moves to New Zealand, staged in Singapore: perfect for World Theatre Day!
Krishnan's Diary
COPENHAGEN, Denmark Dybet by Jon Atli Jonasson
At Teater Får302
Because “The Deep” is an Icelandic play based on a true story of the sinking of a fishing boat being staged in Denmark. I have a think for Danish acting.
ROME, Italy I Masnadieri by Friedrich Schiller, directed by Gabriele Lavia Teatro di Roma Because why not see a Schiller play in Rome?
Photo: Il Rossetti
I haven’t even scratched the surface of all the exciting theatre happening in the world this week. What will you be doing to celebrate World Theatre Day on Tuesday?
On this Saint Patrick’s day, I realised that my visits to Ireland in high school were my first real taste of independent travel (independent in the sense that parents were not there). Although not exactly solo trips (good friends took these first steps with me), they definitely woke the travel bug in me and gave my feet that incurable itch.
It was a summer of reading, taking chances, and getting a little taste of freedom (and butter sandwiches).
This was what Howth looked like in the 1990s.
I was already a theatre nerd and was therefore very excited to see Dancing at Lughnasa at the Abbey Theatre.
We got to go to the Galway Arts Festival and we caught a play that would change everything: Shockheaded Peter
When we were on the west coast, the Galway Arts Festival was in full swing and I got to see Shockheaded Peter. To get an idea of this show and how it would change the way I saw theatre, discover what was possible on a stage, and set the bar very very high for all the theatre I would see from then on, check this out:
One of my favourite stories in Shockheaded Peter was the one about the hare that shoots the hunter. This exceptional illustration taken from my diary.
Ok, so Shockheaded Peter isn’t Irish, though I did first see it in a tent set up in a parking lot in Galway…
Back to Ireland. Here’s something we did in Ireland in the summer of ’99:
Sara-Jane and I, after a visit to the Irish Film Centre, eating Leo Burdock's fish and chips, on some church's lawn in Dublin.
When I was in high school, I may or may not have had the habit of snapping pics of boys I thought were nice looking while pretending to take an interestingly-composed slice of life photograph.
Casual picture of Dublin guys hanging out in front of Trinity (ahem: far left).
“We went to a pub called Scott’s in Dun Laoghaire and S-J and I got a half-pint of Guinness. I tried it first. It was quite horrible. I expected it thicker or heavier or something, but the bitterness and aftertaste were disgusting.” -from my diary
I don’t know how I managed it (probably got air miles from my father?), but the next summer I went back to Ireland. I idealised that country and loved not being hot in the summer, the accent, the jam sessions in pubs, the laid-back nature, and the slightly worn romantic natural beauty.
Couldn't get enough of Ireland, so I went back the next summer with my friend Ilana.
We were a bit adventurous. We stayed in places like this.
But at heart we were both theatre nerds, no matter how much we “roughed it”.
Here we are showing off our new Conor McPherson books while sitting in St Stephens's Green in Dublin. Check out the glee in our eyes. Nerds.
Since that summer of 2000 where we cycled on the Aran Islands, walked miles and miles to find salami, saw Juliet Turner play in Wexford, drank many Tia Maria and milks, and bought lovely knit hats, I’ve only been back to Ireland once.
While in the UK doing my degree in directing, I finally fulfilled a longtime dream in 2005 to see the Giant’s Causeway in Northern Ireland. I hadn’t quite thought it through, though. It turns out there’s not much daylight in Northern Ireland in November. But with some good luck, generous people with a car, and a mobile phone, I managed to see the causeway surrounded by an angry sea and get to my hostel afterwards safe and sound and frozen… But I can’t find that photo album at the moment, but I can assure you: the Giant’s Causeway is awe-inspiring.
I hope you are all enjoying your St Patrick’s day as I type this. On my way home from a dinner party, I saw lots of short skirts, colourful puke, and one loser punching his idiot friend in the face on the subway. That’s enough excitement I can handle in one night. Happy St Patrick’s day!
