Tag: theatre

Link Love

On November 27, 2008

A few gorgeous tidbits of theatre-rama from around the web today:

Gerald Schoenfeld, Chairman of the American Shubert Organization, has died. He was responsible for bringing many of the big shows (like Cats, Phantom, and A Chorus Line to Broadway. His obituary from the New York Times is here (you’ll have to register, but I guarantee you, it’s worth it). Schoenfeld was an interesting figure; while he had a lot of detractors, no one in the industry would deny his importance within the theatre world. Rocco Landesman, President of rival Jujamcyn Theatres, credits Schoenfeld with saving commercial theatre. He may not have been popular in not-for-profit circles -“There’s no profit like not-for-profit,” he used to say -but reading his obit, I can’t help but think that his approach is such a good model for theatre, all theatre, anywhere. From the big things to the small things, Schoenfeld never left any detail to chance, and he fought for his productions. He also gave a lot of people jobs and consistent work. And, to quote the article, “Mr. Schoenfeld argued tirelessly that the theater was an economic engine for the city and deserved greater help from City Hall.” Now there’s something we can get behind.

CBC Arts Online reports that British Columbia arts groups are buckling down in light of this week’s B.C. Ballet layoffs. They’re also thinking more about marketing -which probably makes sense for all arts groups right now, really. For example:

Ballet Victoria, a smaller ballet company than Ballet BC with just 10 dancers, is very aware of the need to attract new audiences.

Artistic director Paul Destrooper said he always programs unusual works that might attract audiences that don’t normally come to the ballet.

“We draw in the audience with a bit of a surprise. I always build my season with one big ballet that will draw a crowd that might not necessarily see classical ballet, and then when they see the level of the dancers and the choreography they’re drawn to other works,” he said.

That’s just how it’s done.

Over at the Guardian, Christine Bacon, the Director of Actors For Human Rights with UK-based theatre company iceandfire, rebuts the notion that theatre can’t respond with appropriate swiftness to current events. Not only is theatre able to do this with the required fast action, but, she argues, it should. And it doesn’t depend on funding, either:

Because we use a rolling cast of actors who donate their time and have no technical requirements, we can provide a “rapid response” event for whichever organisation asks us to turn up. We normally perform in churches, village halls, pubs and lecture rooms – anywhere we’re invited, really – eliminating the usually prohibitive cost of hiring a theatre space. This method allows us to act as messengers; rushing the urgent news to audiences who need to hear it now – not, in two year’s time, when the Arts Council funding has come through. It’s the economy and portability of the concept that really allows us to deal directly with some of the most pertinent issues of the day…

It reminded me of Kelly Nestruck’s columns from earlier this year about the lack of current events being portrayed on Canadian stages lately (if anyone can find that link, post it please). Theatre is Territory has opened up the discussion about politics and theatre because of the article. Hopefully it generates a good discussion. Theatre can be, and is, many things to many people, and I believe there’s room for all of us -to learn, to grow, and to expand.

Off to see Soulpepper’s A Christmas Carol tonight; I’ve not seen their production, or indeed, any production of Dickens’ classic tale, onstage, ever. Friday’s booked for Canstage’s It’s A Wonderful Life, the staging of which I find greatly intriguing; it’s set as a radio play, which hits a personal/professional interest-button. But thematically, both are more than just jovial feel-good tales. As Richard Ouzounian wrote, no two works could be more relevant in this economically harsh festive season.

Soulpepper Loves The Magyars

By Catherine Kustanczy

On November 20, 2008

In music

Miklos Laszlo, Ferenc Molnar, Laszlo Marton. What’s up with Soulpepper and the Hungarians? Is it the drama? The comedy? Perhaps the strange sense of isolation some (me) argue the country has from its European brethen?

Whatever the case, Albert Schultz & Co. seem quite enamoured with my kinsman’s theatre artists. Marton, a Soulpepper favourite, will be returning to Toronto to direct Molnar’s The Guardsmen, a play about deception, fidelity and the sometimes-complicated world of male-female relationships. It runs late August through the fall.

Parfumerie, by Miklos Laszlo, was used as the basis for both the musical She Loves Me and the film You’ve Got Mail. It will be performed November through late December, providing a fascinating contrast to much of the city’s annual December fare.

I don’t have a lineage of theatre artists I hail from –or at least none that I am aware of –but I vividly (and fondly) remember my first taste of theatre. It was at the Stratford Festival, where I sat, an enthralled grade-school kid, through the ramblingly surreal Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead, one of Stoppard’s great works. Up until then, my life had mainly been coloured through the lens of music. My father’s position as a musician was the catalyst for my first forays into culture; operas and symphonies were just the norm for me growing up. I still love music, but theatre, more than any other art form, has been what’s inspired me, called me back, and seduced me time and time again over the years.

It will be interesting to note the musicality of translation in the Laszlo and Molnar works, as well as the ways in which director Marton will utilize actual music in the latter. His productions of Uncle Vanya and Three Sisters were notable for the ways they used their scores to highlight the most tender, inexpressible moments. While markedly different, what each work shares is an interestingly harmony of high and low notes. The dark subtext of each provides a satisfyingly nasty edge. It’s like eating a rich goulash with a huge dollop of sour cream: all smooth and creamy on the top, with a rich, meaty interior. Comedy with drama, that leaves you full and nourished by the end.

Kind of reminds me of Soulpepper’s production of The Odd Couple this past season, actually. You think it’s a comedy, but… think again. That, to me, is the magic of doing works like The Guardsman and Parfumerie. Forget the Hungarian Suicide Song; this is the real thing.

Thank You, Clive

By Catherine Kustanczy

On November 19, 2008

In opera

Clive Barnes, the venerable theatre and dance critic for the New York Post, has passed away.

I had the opportunity to meet Barnes in 1995 when I traveled to New York City for a much-praised production of Hamlet that featured Ralph Fiennes as the melancholy Prince. We met at Cafe Un Deux Trois, just beside the Belasco Theatre, and he regaled my friend and I with his great tales one splendid evening. He was, to quote fellow theatre critic John Simon, “charming, witty and learned.” Just so.

Barnes was a big personal inspiration, and he will be very missed.

If You Want Something Done…

By Catherine Kustanczy

On November 12, 2008

In opera

Over at the wonderful theatre blog cleverly titled Tynan’s Anger, the idea of the intersection between art and commerce is examined, specifically through the lens of theatrical production. Ethan, the blog’s author, writes:

If you’re in theater, even using the term “commodity” in referring to theater will make you cringe. Yet, the fact that this cringe is nearly universal is a unique thing to theater, in terms of business and even in terms of the arts.

Maybe this is the problem the arts in Canada have: people who stomp about decrying the wasteful spending of their tax dollars see artists turning away from commercial models, from things like Dirty Dancing, Jersey Boys, and The Sound of Music. Sure, on one level, it’s apples and oranges comparing those sorts of shows to, say, something from Passe Muraille or the Tarragon or even Soulpepper, but still, those inside the arts community -not all, mind, but some -turn up their noses, and, to quote Jeremy Kushnier (who’s in Jersey Boys), regard musicals as the dirty cousin of the stage. Hello, unity?

Without getting into an argument about what constitutes either culture or commodity, I have to say, I’m a bit surprised at the amount of shock coming from artists over the cancellation of the National Portrait Gallery. Is it really that surprising? Culture is not on Prime Minister Stephen Harper’s priority list. Right or wrong, like it or lump it, it isn’t there. Period. That isn’t going to change.

Ergo, the onus is on us to promote our work in unorthodox, inventive ways. This is an opportunity. It means more than ever, arts companies -including theatre companies, of course -need to be more aggressive than ever to get the word out there -about who they are, what they do, how they do it, and why they do it. To quote an arts journalist friend who has covered this issue extensively, most voters who object to public funding of arts projects have a/ little to no idea of funding structures, and b/ are unaware that funding is less than half of the total operating budget of any project or company.

What does this mean? See above.

To quote Ethan again, “most theater people are introverts” -but it’s time we came out of our collective safety shell of our familiar community and started courting those people coming out of the Royal Alex. Call me naive, but I think it’s worth a shot, particularly since culture isn’t about to be promoted by our own government anytime soon. Just as I refuse to bitch and whine about the arts’ collective victimization in this country, I refuse to believe all hope is lost. It isn’t. Let’s go.

Politics. Economy. Art.

By Catherine Kustanczy

On November 3, 2008

In art

One of my favourite pastimes is pouring over the weekend papers amidst steaming cups of tea, with Go or Michael Enright on in the background, nibbling away on bits of toast, egg, bacon or waffles. It was with great interest and more than a little sadness that I read the story of Zakariya Zubeidi in Saturday’s edition of The Globe and Mail:

It was the hardest decision of Zakariya Zubeidi’s life. Slightly more than a year ago, the powerful commander of Jenin’s al-Aqsa Martyrs Brigades, one of Israel’s most-wanted for plotting shooting attacks and suicide bombings, walked into a Palestinian security office and handed in his gun.

At 32, he had concluded bitterly that his fight had failed. And he had another ambition: to deter this poverty-stricken camp’s children away from the path of violence by rebuilding a children’s theatre destroyed in the last intifada.

Offered, along with other gunmen, a rare amnesty from Israel, he spent time in a Palestinian jail and swore to remain unarmed. On his release, he pledged to dedicate his time to the Freedom Theatre’s workshops and performances, trying to recreate his own boyhood experiences in drama thanks to the work of a Jewish-Israeli peace activist.

But today his past has caught up with him, illustrating the difficulty of starting a new life after one of violence. The theatre, now thriving under the direction of the original founder’s son, does not want him there for fear that he will scare off much-needed foreign donors in the theatre’s quest to expand.

I wonder if anyone in the Canadian theatre world could imagine this happening. We all understand the importance of keeping benefactors happy, and resorting to sometimes-questionable measures to keep its members happy. Juliano Mer Khamis’ has a point about fearing Zubeidi’s association with the theatre; it may truly harm their reputation, their chances of fundraising, and indeed, their physical safety. Still, to isolate someone whose whole being seems so entirely bound up with theatre feels… horribly sad. Isn’t part of art’s purpose to enlighten? Even re-reading it now, the story puts the role and significance of theatre –and its relationship to politics -in a whole new light.

At a time when artists need to stick together, cultivate community and spread awareness, it’s heartbreaking to see possibilities being ripped asunder by politics and nationalism. I don’t know what kind of a suggestion to offer here, but I’m so grateful to the Globe for publishing this story. Yet another example of how art impacts life, and life impacts art.

In that vein, it was with great interest that I read Mark Vallen’s blog this morning about the impact the global recession could have on the livelihoods and outputs of visual artists. While it’s tempting to tut-tut at art’s role in harsh economic times, it’s equally apt to suppose that (to twist a phrase) “art is the mother of necessity.” History would seem to bear out the fact that harsh economic reality tends to yield some wonderful stuff –and that stuff, whether it takes the form of painting, sculpture, performance, writing or otherwise, is a reflection, examination, and exploration of the economic reality we all face.

Hardship knows no bounds; conversely, its unbound nature allows its expression in many creative outlets. And there’s something reassuring about that.

A Sunday Afternoon

By Catherine Kustanczy

On October 21, 2008

Study, originally uploaded by catekustanczi.

Post-brunch Sunday, I found myself a hop, skip, and a jump from the downtown park that is the originating point of the 2008 Toronto Zombie Walk. Though I’m not a fan of the film genre, I thought it would be a great experience, to “shoot” zombies in perhaps the most humane way possible. It turned out to be a wonderful afternoon, cool but bright, and full of great, friendly, community-minded people. There were families, older participants, young ones (some really young -a zombie princess was spotted) and even pets.

Every imaginable variation on the zombie theme was represented -a veritable A to Z of undead-types (chefs, gypsies, cheerleaders, doctors, even clever references to other film characters) -and even though some of the makeup and special effects were a bit gruesome, there was a spirit of fun and freedom sitting at the heart of the experience.

And theatre.

I hadn’t seen this much spontaneous play-acting and consciously-minded inhabiting-of-character in ages; every zombie was play-acting their particular story, every participant trying to get across their specific brand of un-dead horror. It was clever. It was cool. It was creative. It was also a golden marketing moment that I don’t think most smaller arts companies (at least in Toronto) would think of utilizing. Pity. The Toronto Zombie Walk, which attracted more than 2,000 participants this Sunday alone, embodies the all of qualities inherent to every good artistic community, alive, dead, or zombified. If you can, get down to the next one -there are several walks organized in various cities. Bring your camera, your curiosity, and… your braaaainnns.

Leaves

By Catherine Kustanczy

On October 18, 2008

In art, artwork, interviews, writing

Leaves, originally uploaded by catekustanczi.

Years ago, I decided to explore the one art I hadn’t yet tried: drawing.

After drama, music, dance and photography, learning the basics of good drawing is a logical step, after all. I tend to be one of those people who strongly believes in a balanced diet of exposure to all things; art is, for me, a big, madly delicious buffet of experiences and expressions. A little bit of this, a scoop of that… Jill of all trades, master of none, but happy. Once you find the right dish, you never run out of ways to improve it, or want to stop experimenting with the ways in which it matches up with other tastes.

I’m more conscious of my visual side lately, noting the beauty of theatrical design in various productions I’ve attended; the costumes, lighting, props, and set all started out as ideas first done in drawing. My own initial work with pencil, charcoal, conte, and watercolour years ago lead to one of my great passions: oil painting. I painted with mad passion for years, and found much solace and calm through my work with brushes, palette, and a bare canvas. At times it was my greatest comfort, at others an utter torment -but it was always there.

Alas, life being cyclical, I’ve moved away from painting and back to my earlier love of photography. Looking through recent shots, I was struck by their painterly qualities. Amazing, how some arts naturally integrate themselves within artistic expression and form. Does this mean I’ll be doing any free-form features in my arts writing? Doubtful. But it does mean I might trust in my subconscious instincts a bit more, without trying to fit into a mold of how I think I “ought” to sound. Writing is, for me, a careful balance of research, reason, observation, and experience; that doesn’t, however, mean it should lack passion or personality.

In that vein, the next Play Anon interview will hopefully be published this week. I recently met with a painter who thinks the Canada Council should be abolished; before you get your shoulders up, take a deep breath. He dislikes government -period. It was one of the most enlightening conversations about art that I’ve ever had. I hope you’ll enjoy it. Stay tuned.

Now get outside and enjoy the splendor of autumn. Take your camera, your pencil, your paintbrush.

Joy Is For Everyone

By Catherine Kustanczy

On October 7, 2008

Walking up Bay Street at 10pm Saturday night, I couldn’t help but look around in wonder. The streets were jammed, and there was a palpable excitement in the air. It was the third annual Nuit Blanche, and Toronto was staying up late to catch the “all-night art thing.” Whether visual or performance, everyone was curious about experiencing… something. The flashing pixellations in the windows of City Hall were like a beacon for the thousands walking up Bay street, past the lineups of others curious about finding out about being part of a live art installation.

Waiting to meet a friend in the chaotic, crowded madness of Nathan Phillips Square, I had to wonder: “Wow, are we all elite?” Stephen Harper’s sad, sadly hilarious idea about art being a “niche” meant only for elite people at galas seemed really removed from the reality surrounding me Saturday night.

And after wandering around the city all night, and taking in the smiling excitement, open experimentation, child-like curiosity, and outright wonder that such an event produces, I can only reiterate my own position: culture isn’t partisan. Like good food, we all consume culture. We all have our tastes, sure, we all have our favourites, we all have the things that work better for us than others. But we still share the passion, curiosity, wonder, and delight. Art isn’t made by, much less for, outsiders. It’s about us, for us, by us. Hallelujah.

In that spirit, I’m excited about the spate of openings coming to Toronto this week and next. Tonight the magnificent Famous Puppet Death Scenes returns to the Young Centre; I saw this wonderful show, by Calgary’s Old Trout Puppet Workshop, last year, and in all frankness, it changed my life. It changed the life of my 905-dwelling friend, too. Never having been to the Young Centre, much less to puppet theatre, she was so enamoured, enthralled, and inspired, that she’s planning on returning with a gaggle of 905 buddies this year, to introduce them to the wonders of Old Trouts, puppets, the YC, and the Distillery District. Ordinary? Whatever.

The next fortnight also sees the openings of Scratch, a new play by newcomer Charlotte Corbeil-Coleman, whose mother, journalist Caroline Corbeil, died of cancer. The play is based those experiences, though it has comic elements. With my own mother starting a second round of chemotherapy this week, there’s a special significance to the work for me. Something about the scenario of a young woman writing and sharing her life and vulnerabilities that I find very brave. Sometimes art helps us make sense of our own lives through sharing experiences. Carrying on the big-up-tha-women theme, Nightwood Theatre launches its fall season with an adaptation of the Helen Humphreys novel Wild Dogs; from the sounds of it, the work is challenging, disturbing, unusual. Good. I like that.

Speaking of challenging, Canstage opens their season next week with Frost/Nixon, a play about the famous interviews between Richard Nixon and David Frost in the 70s. Having already played to great acclaim in Vancouver, I’m looking forward to seeing this Ted Dykstra-directed work, with its timely themes and, from what I’ve heard, excellent performances. Soulpepper, a company Dykstra helped co-found eleven years ago, offers the Toronto premiere production of A Raisin In The Sun next week too, and never having seen it live, I’m looking forward to it immensely.

Amidst all this, I’ll remember the mascots, who were probably my favourite Nuit Blanche installation. It was silly, stripped-down, basic theatre in its most absurd and joy-full state. Called I Promise It Will Always Be This Way, and performed beneath the blazing lights of Lamport Stadium, with Yoko Ono’s enormous IMAGINE PEACE billboard illuminated in the background, the sight of various furry mascots dancing, jumping, and instigating cheers made for pure, unfiltered joy. I looked around at my fellow Torontonians, between snapping shots and dodging the bouncing beach balls tossed into the crowd; everyone was smiling. Isn’t that the point?

Scorched, Tomorrow Morning.

By Catherine Kustanczy

On September 11, 2008

An interview, that is.

Wajdi Mouawad’s play Scorched is considered to be one of the finest pieces of Canadian drama. Everyone, from audiences to critics alike, agree it’s an important, vital, and deeply moving work.

The Dora Award-winning Scorched examines issues of war, family, and identity, and is on now at Toronto’s famed Tarragon Theatre, where it runs until September 28th before heading out on a nation-wide tour.

Tomorrow morning on Take 5, I speak with actor Sergio DiZio (best known from the television series Flashpoint about his role in the play, as the troubled, amateur-boxing son Simon Marwan.

Sergio and I will be discussing Mouawad’s work, as well as the playwright’s soon-to-be-famous letter on the recently-announced arts cuts.

Support Canadian culture and tune in, just after 9am!

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Welcome

By Catherine Kustanczy

On September 5, 2008

In interviews

Not long ago, I got into a huge argument with a friend of mine. Our initially-polite discussion about the threatened arts cuts turned into a huge torrent of emotion and passionate debate; I realized, in speaking with this person, that, despite my being an arts writer, I still had a lot to learn about the arts in Canada, and of the nature of the lives of working artists.

The recent announcement (make that non-announcement) of the cuts to the Prom Arts and Trade Routes Programs, among many others, has sparked a heated debate within the arts community. What with the promise of a Canadian election on the horizon, I can think of no better time to foster an ongoing dialogue with artists, as well as those outside the arts world, about the role and nature of culture in Canada.

I’ve started this blog to allow for a more free-flowing discussion, of not just the threatened cuts, but about current affairs issues that relate to arts and culture within this country.

What makes this blog special, or different, from the myriad of others covering the same topics?

I’ll be putting my interviewer skills to work, and featuring artists, as well as public figures, sounding off in their own inimitable way, about current affairs. All interviews, unless noted, will be anonymous. The focus will be on the issue, not the person. Context for the individual (and their views) will be provided.

Look out for lots of talk within the next few weeks. In the meantime, I’ll be re-posting my blog from Arts & Thoughts here, so that everyone can comment, not just those with a Myspace account.

Enjoy.

There’ll be no road too narrow
There’ll be a new day
And it’s today
For us -Nick Cave