The transition from post-secondary education to what many call ‘the REAL WORLD’ is certainly one of the most terrifying concepts young people can face. In theatre school, students are constantly bombarded with the idea that they will never be employed, that they will live below the poverty line, that there is no work to be had, that they will end up drunk and poor and destitute and alone. And THIS is what we pay $50,000 and spend four years of our lives for. The following is an account of how myself and a colleague said, “to hell with this,” and simply put on a play. It is not meant to be boastful or self-indulgent, merely a tale of what CAN happen when you accept risk and find the courage to break out of the institutional mindset of school, becoming your own person and finding your calling in life.
This saga began in June of 2009, when Matt Marshall and I found ourselves on a train bound for Ottawa and the Magnetic North Theatre Festival. This the result of Matt planning to go on this trip and my drunken birthday-fueled declaration that I would go too. As we rumbled across Ontario with cans of Guinness on our flip-down tables, we talked about Matt’s passion for Patrick Marber’s play Closer. I had only ever seen the movie, and Matt had performed a scene study from the script two years previous. The play had never left his head, and we discussed the possibility of mounting the show.
It was an afternoon in the basement of the National Arts Centre that truly lit the powder keg of our production. Four hours spent with Peter Hinton, the English Artistic Director of the NAC, and about twenty young theatre artists discussing our futures and the reasons blocking us from following through with our dreams changed our entire perspective. We wanted to promote workshopping and artistic growth rather than polished productions; the collective learning experience of all artists involved was of utmost importance. Matt, a true actor’s director, believed in the artistic risk that Marber’s play presented. By the train ride back to Toronto, we were drawing up the preliminary production schedule for our company’s premiere production of Closer.
From Closer bt Patrick Marber | Premiere Production by Theatre Bassaris
Matt was set to be artistic director of our company, and to direct the show; I was to take on the roles of general manager and production manager, two roles for which I had almost no training and even less experience. The main thing was that I wanted to DO something. Matt was to return to school for a fifth year in the fall, but I had graduated; there was no end to the summer vacation for me. The rest of my life would be a prolonged summer vacation away from school. I had a low-paying retail job and no real ideas with what to do with myself. What, audition? The slim chance of even getting an audition from a headshot submission was unnerving, let alone the chances of winning a role once auditioned. I wanted to DO theatre, not just WAIT for theatre to happen to me. I had worked too long and too hard to let myself work a series of Joe jobs while ignoring my passion. Matt was the person I needed, a person with the same reckless abandon and sense of adventure that I had. I would fulfill any role required of me, so long as I was DOING theatre.
The summer was spent with me preparing schedules, assessing crew requirements, budgeting the show, researching funding grants and approaching designers/technicians regarding our production. Matt was busy with beginning his director’s work, searching for an assistant director and working with Borna Radnik, our dramaturge, to more fully flesh out his vision of the text. We settled on set designer Sarah Beaudin, recipient of one of three coveted Theatre@York mainstage designs, and costume and lighting designer Travis Lahay, a former Creative Ensemble colleague of mine. I selected second year Sarah Barton as Stage Manager, her first foray into the field for a full-length production. Assistant director was to be Alyksandra Ackerman, a second year student who showed a good deal of potential and initiative. Our venue was to be the Eleanor Winters Art Gallery at York, the perfect setting for a script in which all four characters only ever appear together. We were set to begin, our younger members in place to promote advancement through the company ranks.
All that remained was to assemble the cast for our show. Matt had very specific ideas about who would be right for these complex and coveted roles, and we had to reach as many potential auditionees as possible. Posters went up all over the fine arts buildings at the university, drawing more than 50 total auditionees, far more than we had imagined. This group was narrowed down to 4: Alexi Aslanidis as Dan, Christina Manco as Alice, Wade Noble as Larry and Maya Tekavcic as Anna. These four young actors had the bulk of the responsibility with our show: face down the savage emotions of Marber’s challenging script. Without strong performances, the rest of the production would be for nothing. Matt and I were placing a lot of faith in these four young people, but were convinced that they were up to the task.
What followed were sixteen weeks of rehearsal, culminating in a four-performance run. In this time, Matt took the actors through character exercises, emotional reveals, textual analysis, and finally staging rehearsals. As our company focus was development-oriented, we set up workshops with other emerging artists to guide our young troupe through workshops in movement, voice and character. I spent the rehearsal process writing grant applications, finalizing schedules, liaising with designers regarding logistics of implementation, and finally attending new year rehearsals to get a sense of the show’s progress. As with every production there were hiccups, missed deadlines, mistakes made and problems faced. There was also growth, maturation, transformation and transcendence.
After over $1000 of expenditure, several cut corners, a few creative tussles, a tonne of borrowed and stolen props, as well as set, costume pieces and a tech week of twelve to fourteen-hour days in the gallery to transform it into a theatre space, opening night was finally upon us. It was a night nine months in the making for Matt and I, and I don’t believe either of us has ever been so nervous. The sold-out crowd of friends, peers, colleagues and complete strangers took their places, Ms. Barton called “go,” and the show began.
From Closer bt Patrick Marber | Premiere Production by Theatre Bassaris
Over the next three days we played the show four times, and each was, in my opinion and Matt’s, a triumph. It was an artistic triumph in the sense that the actors delivered powerful, engaged performances, no two the same; in the sense that the designers’ visions were realized to the fullest potential that we could afford; in the sense that Matt staged the version of the play that he saw in his head for two years. It was a commercial triumph as a result of the three sold-out evening performances and well-attended matinee, and we are forever indebted to the audience who took the time to see our little workshop. It was a performance triumph judging by the several extended standing ovations that our entire team earned to the marrow. As Matt remarked to me several times throughout the process, but most notably after the opening performance, “We have a show.”
Theatre Bassaris’ debut production of Closer was a well-fought struggle, and in the end a self-declared victory. And as Matt and I often remarked to each other throughout the process, it was quite easy. Everyone knew their jobs, or learned quickly. We supported each other. We shared the load. In truth, any team of theatre professionals CAN put on a show. The hardest step is the first: saying, “Let’s put on a show!” There is a fear built into each of us of striking out on our own, of accepting the risk of failure and devoting yourself completely to a task, or a number of tasks toward a final objective. To get over that fear is a leap, but trust yourself to take it! Abandon anxiety and apprehension! YOU DO KNOW HOW TO PUT ON A SHOW! Trust in that, and everything else falls into place. In the end it only took a team of ten to stage a full two-plus-hour production, nine of whom were balancing school and work at the same time. YOU CAN DO IT TOO! I cannot repeat that statement enough. You ARE a theatre practitioner – go practice theatre!
