What would you do with your own work space?

So today I found a link to an available workspace at Artscape.  Sadly,  I can’t afford it, but its nice to dream, so I got to thinking about the kind of things I would do if I had a workspace of my own.  A place to go to write, to create, to get together with creative folks and create in a group. That sort of thing.  Again, it would be amazing, but I don’t have the funds to do it.

But that’s not the point of this post.  If you had a workspace of your own, what would you do with it?  Dream, and dream big.  What would you do?

Edit: For the curious, here’s the space I saw.

Artistic License Or Worse

Via twitter, I came upon news of a production of Little Shop of Horrors that was cancelled, due to having their rights to perform the play revoked.  This is because of certain liberties taken by the director (read his statement here).  The upshot is, that the director added some of his own written material, mixed in some dialogue from the original film, added some from the movie version and stirred in something from Rocky Horror (though its not clear what was added from Rocky: was it actual songs from, or a certain style, or something else entirely?).

The licencing agency was not only well within their rights to withdraw permission to perform the play, but was right to do so.  When the rights are obtained to perform a show, an agreement is entered into with the playwright/rights holder regarding what is to be performed.  By agreeing to this, and not adhering to it, the director broke the agreement.

I’ve been following the discussion on #2amt about this, and its been quite a discussion.  I have a lot to say, and I can’t quite distill it into a few 140 character posts.

I can’t see the overall discussion (re: adaptation) in terms of black and white. There are several conflicting opinions that I have, so I’m going to lay them all out.

Flexibility: One of the problems I have with licencing companies is that, unlike getting the rights for a play, licencing a musical means that you licence the book, the music and the arrangement of the music.  This means that, regardless of how the play is staged, the director is tied to the arrangement that was used previously.  Let’s say that I want to do, let’s say Godspell. Even though there is no time period specified in the book, the music is clearly steeped in the 1970s.  Perhaps I want to make a couple of slight changes to the arrangement  of the music, perhaps punch up the choral arrangement in All Good Gifts, technically I can’t do this.  I have to take the arrangement as is.  Technically, I understand this.  They licensing agency cannot be certain that my idea is any good.  And they also can’t be certain that I won’t take By My Side and make it a screaming rock number.  However, there isn’t a process in place to vet the ideas I might have.   Do I email Stephen Schwartz and try not to sound like an asshole as I explain to him what I think could be better about his music and ask him to do what I want with it?  Or do I risk making changes to the arrangement without telling anyone, assuming that chances are small that the licensing agency will ever find out, and risk having them revoke my rights to the play if they do?  Here I want to do the play, and make the statement I see in it, but I can’t do that exactly if the music remains rooted in the 70s.  There’s a version of Godspell with different arrangements that’s available, but its too synth heavy.  Say I want to take elements of both and mix them together?  I can’t do that either.  I’m tied to the arrangement offered.  This is something that has actually kept me from pursuing directing a musical, since I would want have a proper musical director take it and arrange it.  Do I find this annoying?  Yes.  But I do understand the reason for the limitations. I just wish there was an existing process for vetting a director’s ideas.

Shakespeare: So, with Shakespeare you can do whatever you want, right? Well, technically, yes.  But should you?  One of the reasons for not messing with the play you have licensed, is that there is a legal issue.  Not so with Shakespeare.  No one needs to license the work of Shakespeare.  You can cut it, you can set it anywhere. You can adapt it.  You can make it a musical. At what point do you deviate from the playwright’s intent?  Considering that even acting styles themselves have changed since Shakespeare’s time,  its impossible to say where that line is.  At what point have you deviated too much from the author’s vision?  A few years ago, I came to the following realization: you can do anything you want with Shakespeare, as long as your concept doesn’t get in the way of the story.  If your concept is so high that you’re finding it difficult to move around in the story logically, then your concept is getting in the way.  As long as the story can still flow, then you’ve kept the essence of the Bard’s intent.  But as for how he might feel if he saw some of the things that have been done with his plays…he’s probably just be happy and flattered that people are still doing them at all.

Here’s my thing: I’ve got to be honest and say that if it weren’t for the contractual obligations, I would probably treat licensed plays in the same way I look at Shakespeare.  If it weren’t for the fact that the play or musical is under copyright and the playwright and his/her estate is still receiving money from the play, then I would probably make all the changes I want to Godspell.  I’d adapt it as freely as I would Shakespeare.  Its about respect for the author and their vision while the play is under copyright. Once its in the Public Domain, its fair game.

And that’s my opinion(s) on the matter.

Saluting the Booth: Questions

Lately,  I’ve noticed something about curtain calls at the theatre.  For a long time,  when seeing Fringe shows or smaller independent theatre, that during the curtain call, the actors will “salute the booth”, which means that they acknowledge the stage manager (and therefore the crew).  The salute of the booth takes the same form as the acknowledgement of say, the conductor that you see after a musical.  This is, in my opinion, a good practice.  After all, the crew works just as hard (if not harder) than the actors, and they deserve acknowledgment.

However, when I go to other theatres;  if I go to a Mirvish show they don’t salute the booth. The last time I was at a Stratford show, they didn’t salute the booth.

So, a question: is Saluting the booth something that’s considered “unprofessional”? If not, why does it not happen in larger houses?  Why doesn’t everyone salute the booth?

Rehearsal Gallery

During our week of rehearsal, I took more pictures. Here’s a selection.

WTF is “Theatre”

In a blog post, Stephen Spotswood asked “What do you think of when you say ‘theatre’?”

After reading his article, I wanted to address it in my own blog post, rather than as a comment.

How do you define what theatre is?  Wikipedia says:

Theatre (or theater, see spelling differences) is a branch of the performing arts. Any performance may be considered theatre; however, as a performing art, theatre focuses almost exclusively on live performers enacting a self-contained drama before an audience

The Miriam-Webster dictionary has additional definitions.  Most of the definitions have to do with the building, or that plays are done there.  But that’s not what Stephen is asking.

When I was in my first year of theatre school, on the first day of our acting class, the head of acting asked us to define theatre.  We all gave answers similar to wikipedia and the Mirriam-Webster. After we had exhausted these answers, we were told that these things were not theatre.  That theatre was a moment.  That moment when “audience and performer breathe together”.

Its a little vague, at least until you’ve experienced it.  But its right.  I don’t think its all of it, but it is right.  Theatre sort of falls into the category of “I know it when I see it”.  Like a conversation I was having with Red Herring via twitter, about what makes burlesque different from say…stripping:  its that burlesque is theatre (or at least has theatricality).

What do I mean when I say theatre?  I usually mean a few things.  The “breathing together” thing I heard in theatre school, mixed with a bit of spectacle, mixed with drama.

Stephen also talks about an article by Gwydion Suilebhan that talked about a company that does Physical Theatre called Synetic Theater, and whether the work they do should be considered along side works more “traditional” in nature for a Washinton DC Theatre award.  Now I’m not familiar with the work that Synetic does, but as a member of Keystone Theatre, which presents a form of theatre that lacks spoken word (we do plays in the style of silent film).  Do we believe that what we do is theatre?  Absolutely.  It it at all like dance?  Not a bit.  It is physical theatre, but I find the idea that it doesn’t deserve to be along side “the likes of Oklahoma andClybourne Park” insulting.  Is it theatre? Well, in my mind it most certainly is: it meets all of my criteria for determining what theatre is.

And that’s my response (however rambling) to the question.

Keystone Theatre photos taken while creating a show

While working with Keystone Theatre on the new show The Last Man on Earth, I took a few pictures during the collective creation process.  Now that we are into actual rehearsals, I thought I’d share a few of them with you.  No context though: you’ll have to see the show for details.

As I Like It

Since I’ve been thinking a lot about As You Like it, I’ve been considering the question of “what the play is about”.  And I don’t mean what the plot is.  I mean, what is the play about?

Going through the play, as I have been, it looks to me like banishment to the wilderness is freeing for the exiled characters.  Its striking that once in exile, none of the characters really laments being exiled, except for Touchstone, but he seems to be the one dissenting voice.    Aside from the Clown, everyone seems to be having a great time.  Duke Senior and his followers have “gone native”, and are enjoying themselves, living in a cave and killing their own food and singing songs celebrating their hunting prowess.  They are reveling in the freedom their rustic surroundings provide.

Rosalind experiences even more freedom.  Accepted as a man, she finds that she is able to escape the constraints that society normally places on her.

Even Orlando, who isn’t so much exiled as on the run, doesn’t do too much complaining about his “banishment” once he arrives in Arden.  Rather, his complaint is all about being separated from Rosalind.

What do you think this means?  Do you agree? Disagree?

Of course, while interesting, this does not yet provide me with an answer to what the play is “about”, but its interesting to think about.

Is an old, low-quality clip of acting work better than having nothing to show at all?

I suppose that depends on what the purpose is. Are you trying to put together a demo reel for film? If the video is of you in play you did, then this might not be the best thing for you to use. If its film work…if the clip is old, and you don’t look like you did in the clip anymore, then that’s not so helpful either. It might show your range, but they want to know what you look like.

If you need to be more specific to get a better answer, feel free to contact me directly.

Ask me anything

TCAF Roundup

The Toronto Comic Arts Festival (TCAF) was this weekend.  Of the comic-centred conventions I have been to, TCAF is most certainly my favourite.  Its the only one with free entry, and its artist focused, so instead of being ruled by Marvel or DC or other companies, you get a lot of independent artists showing off their comics, and selling artwork.

I thought I’d take a moment to share with you some of the things I picked up this weekend.

First was the only comic I picked up (that was not by design, that’s just how it worked out). Its called “Pang: the wandering Shao-Lin monk”.

I encountered the artist, Ben Costa at his table, and he gave me his pitch, and I had to admit, he had me at “Wandering Shao-lin monk”, so I bought it. I quite enjoyed it, and discovered afterwards that its a compilation of a webcomic that can be found at http://shilongpang.com/. I highly recommend checking it out.

I also picked up some Adventure Time art.  If you don’t know Adventure Time, you should.  It is awesome (and strange).

Jim Zubkavich (of Skullkickers fame) was drawing monsters, and I couldn’t resist picking up “Sad Monster Time”.

Finally, I was enamoured of Dylan Meconis‘ “Family Man” tarot prints, so I had to pick those up.

All of the artwork I picked up will be finding its way on my wall (as soon as suitable frames are acquired). I’d love to show you the amazing artwork, but…well, you really should have been at TCAF to see it.

This is not the end

I admit that I am dismayed by the results of our election.  I am saddened by the fact that regardless of the contempt Stephen Harper has for our democracy, his lies and obfuscations, that Canadian voters gave him a majority in the House of Commons.   And from the updates on my twitter feed, and the postings on Facebook, I see that I am not alone.

Those of us who did not want to see another four years of the “Harper Government” are dismayed, and were disappointed by our fellow Canadians.  We “lost”.

But this is not the end of Canada as we know it.  We’re stronger than that.  We survived the Mulroney years, we can survive the Harper years.  Harper won’t be the end of Canada, he can’t be.  He’s not strong enough.

And what’s more: for those of us who aren’t happy with this result, we will be watching him more closely than ever before.  We’ll be watching for his lies, and we’ll expose them.  We’ll correct him on his ignorance of parliamentary procedure.  And when he again displays his contempt for the Canadian people, we’ll give him a reason to respect us.

Yes, he has a majority in Parliament, which means that if he tries to go a little crazy (like he did before this election), the opposition cannot force an election.  But we can make our voices heard, and he will hear us.

This is not the end.  Its the beginning.