THANK YOU, LONDON!

If you are a regular follower of this blog, you are well aware of my absolute fan-girl obsession with a little festival called the Big Comedy Go-To in London (ON). I had attended the first two festivals, which brings together some of the best stuff on the Fringe Circuit with some hilarious local acts (and from a town that brought you Paul Hutcheson, how could the locals NOT be funny?), mixes them all together into one giant cocktail of awesomeness that gets delightfully shotgunned down your throat by master bartender mastermind Jayson MacDonald. Now in its third year of existence, I was tired of being a simple looky-loo and desperately wanted to participate. Safe in the knowledge that I would (finally) be performing my one-woman show at the Ottawa Fringe, I figured if I could get something ready for this April festival, by June I would be laughing.

April was probably the most stressful month of my life.

Swamped with various work projects, I toyed with the idea of quitting EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. I have to send out a huge thank you to Chris, Linda, Emily, Tim, Margo and everyone else who listened to me rant and offered constructive criticism when all I really wanted to do was go hide in my room and throw my laptop out the window. Somehow, through what can only be magic and the bending of the space-time continuum, it all came together.

I arrived in London late Friday night after spending the day doing re-shoots for a student film I worked on in Hamilton. Though the timing of the re-shoot was not the best, the offer to buy me a train ticket to London (and the total wonderfulness of the director) convinced me to do it.

Before I had even walked into the pub where that nights events were taking place, I got dragged into participating in an Improv Cage Match. Thinking this would be a great opportunity to "use the chair," I agreed to play. About a dozen improvisers get mixed up and put into teams of two or three with people they have never worked with before. The audience then decides who brings the most funny and the winners move on.

My team got eliminated in the first round. This stupid contest was obviously fixed.

I found out that my tech time was scheduled for 11 am the next morning. That said, my billet's house often dubs as after-party central, which means getting more work done or, you know, sleeping was out of the question. Well, if you can't beat 'em, join 'em in the hot tub, is what my mother always used to say...

With less than two hours of sleep, I was up and at 'em, rewriting scenes over breakfast while burning my sound cues before the venue opened. Tech went well, as did the rehearsal photoshoot for the festival. I followed that up with a lunch outside with festival organizer Jayson MacDonald before participating in a panel discussion on comedy. These discussions where always my favorite part of past festivals so I was thrilled to be invited into this one.

That done, I quickly grabbed a tea (coffee jitters be damned!), printed out a fresh copy of the script for my technician and myself (I had decided that this would be a staged reading after all), and got ready for my show. As I put on my roller derby gear, I tried not to let my nerves get the best of me.

And you know what? It was awesome!

It was a very friendly audience that laughed and was with me throughout the whole show. After, I got some great feedback from people I respect and realized that, yes, I do have a show in there. I could finally breathe. A little.

After a quick bite, I came back to watch some of my favourite Montrealers, Uncalled For, in their new improv show, Trial by Jury. It was brilliant. These guys are amazing. And I now have a bit of a girl crush on the lone female member in the troupe.

But my night wasn't over yet. We still had the "Big One" stand-up comedy night to get to. And yes, I was participating in that one too.

After I was done, I felt the adrenaline leave my body. I was falling asleep in my chair, but toughed it out until the end of the event. I passed on the post-show festivities and took a cab to my billet's, secure in the knowledge that he was out of town and I would therefore be able to avoid any after-party at the house.

After what was probably the best night of sleep I'd had in months, I woke up feeling happy and creatively refreshed. I had great Easter breakfast with a bunch of the festival performers before heading back to Ottawa.

Thank you London, thank you to my billet Jeff, thank you to the Big Comedy Go-To and Jayson MacDonald! But most of all, thank you to Peter Janes for believing in me and this show before there was even anything to believe in. I would not have been able to do it without your support.

Ottawa Fringe won't know what hit it.

Mamma Mia

We have to believe she's the mother of a girl of 7 years. That's what the audition breakdown said. It always surprises me when I start to think about it, but had my life taken a very different turn, I could totally be the mother of a girl of 7 years. I'm not 20 anymore...

And yet, whenever I have to play a Mom, I always feel like a fraud. Like THEY'LL KNOW I have no idea what to do with a small child. (Isn't she the one who's in all those "dead baby" shows...) Then again, whenever I happen to be around small children, they seem to enjoy my presence. Probably because I prefer sitting on floors to chairs and love a good colouring session like nobody's business.

But back to the audition. It's for one of those typical commercials where the very happy family is enjoying a very happy time together, happy time that probably would not exist or be enjoyed without the help of *insert absolutely necessary product here*.

Though I'd heard about them before, this was the first such audition for me. You show up, they pair you off with a "Dad" and a "Kid" - in my case, since it was the end of the day, we got 2 kids. These child actors are, of course, absolutely adorable, precocious and possess a sense of maturity mixed with fun that I absolutely envy.

We all go into the audition room and we're told to just do things together: make some crafts, set the table, dance with the kids, snuggle up to "Dad".

It's important to remember in these audition situations that you are having THE GREATEST TIME IN THE WORLD! But, at the end of the day, they will cast the child first - the most adorable one who took direction the best - and then they will cast the "Parents" who look like them the most.

And although I was glad to send them home with their real parents, I still had fun with my pretend children. I guess I'm not such a fraud after all.

The Red Dress

In one of my last posts, I mentioned booking a student film. Being more regularly in Toronto, I had been submitting myself for student films which I find either on the Casting Workbook or through the ACTRA Apprentice Audition site (I'm no longer an Apprentice Member, but I had signed up for that particular site with it's updates years ago.) I had been warned about student films, because you really don't know the level of quality or professionalism you might be dealing with, but I didn't really care. At this point in my career, I just want to get stuff on film that I can use as a demo reel.

One particular breakdown caught my eye. In the film, the lead character (who lacks confidence and second guesses herself) switches places with the reflection of Herself in the mirror (who is sexy, sassy, and uber confident). Any actor playing this part would get to show some pretty great range. I submitted the day before the auditions were to be held, not thinking I would hear back, but I did.

Long story short, I had a lot of fun at the audition and about a week later, I heard that I had booked the part.

*insert Snoopy dance here*

The film is shooting in Hamilton, which means that the production is paying for my Go Train tickets and giving me a lift from the station. It takes me about an hour and a half to get from my place in Toronto to the shoot location. Good thing I've gotten used to this travel thing. The Go is just another train.

Last night, I had rehearsal for the shoot. The director picked me up and we had some good chats. We have a very similar sense of humour, which is great. We stopped by a mall because she wanted to pick up just one more red dress for me to try on, as tonight I'd be getting a costume fitting. The dress didn't look like much on the rack and the price tag was one that would make me avoid it altogether, but when I put it on? Wow! It's stunning. It fit me like a delightfully skintight glove and was a size smaller than I normally wear. It's something that I would see Nadine rock on a regular basis, but would never manage to find it's way into my closet. Needless to say, I loved this dress. We tried on all the others they had gotten as well, but we came to the conclusion that this was "the one". Since the director wanted to hem it for extra sex appeal, she realized that she would not be able to return this expensive dress to the store when we were done. Guess who gets to keep it after shoot? I think I just found my Les Prix Rideau Awards dress.

Free clothes aside, I can't even begin to tell you how impressed I am with the whole set-up. The director and her DoP husband turned their basement into "my apartment." This seems simple, right? Wrong. There's no bathroom in the basement. They've built a bathroom set, complete with flooring and holes in the wall for when I do the "mirror image". I'm really hoping I get to take pictures to share because it is just incredible.

The amount of effort and passion that has gone into this "little" film shoot is just beautiful. I'll get to work with green screens and go through mirrors and witness first hand a ton of movie magic in the making.

I am so excited for the the weekend.

The Audition

I've had a lot of auditions recently. Yesterday, there was one for a TV Show Pilot. A friend joked with me the night before about showing up to a room where everyone looks just like you. This did not happen to me. I was the first one there. That said, I was early and got to sit around while a lot of people who kind of look like me started showing up. Funny how that just made me chuckle instead of worry.

Since I was VERY early and felt ready to go, I just took the time to observe everyone's behaviours. I had just finished reading this great blog post about audition nerves and so it was on my mind. For the most part, everyone adopted incredibly similar body positions - legs crossed (all right over left), arms crossed over the chest, eyes going upwards as lines are mentally run over and over again in their heads. As soon as I noticed this, I uncrossed my legs. That felt better. I recognized a guy from an acting class and we started chatting. I could tell the others in the room wanted to join in. Facial expressions started changing, relaxing.

For all the guarded, sometimes bitchy looking expressions, people have on their faces in an audition waiting room, deep down everyone just wants to chat, to connect, to know that this is not a big fucking deal, that we can all be friends, that we're all in this weird weird world together.

I know they're my competition, but I just wanted to give everyone there a hug.

As for the audition itself, it was great!

In September and November, I took an audition workshop with one of my acting teachers in Toronto. I was always so nervous going into auditions, but I never got enough practice with them to fix the problem. Though we were asked to bring in audition pieces to work on, the first thing we did in class was learn how to walk into the room. Funny how even the most relaxed and easy-going performers in the classroom would just completely shut down when asked to simply walk into this room of colleagues pretending to be producers/casting directors.

And that's the first impression you're giving off?

After two months of practice and multiple auditions since, I've noticed a shift. My nerves, though still there, don't get the better of me anymore. I actually noticed this when I shook hands with my reader. His hands were a bit clammy, which is how I noticed I wasn't nervous at all. He seemed pleasantly caught off guard. I don't think anyone ever typically introduces themselves or even asks for his name. I doubt many even make eye contact. That was another thing I took away from class. Love your reader. You're not playing alone up there, so be sure to make contact with your support system.

For me, it worked. I gave two good takes and headed out. Now, I put it all behind me and move on to the next project. Student film, here I come!

Drop It Like It's Hot

I'm in Ottawa. At work. In a few hours I should be on a train heading towards Toronto. I've got a meeting scheduled with the playwright for Evolution Theatre's next show (details soon!) in the Big Smoke, as well as rehearsal and the shoot for a student film this week. Then I get the call: "Can you be in Montreal tomorrow for a TV Pilot audition?" I never realized that Pilot Season extended all the way into Canada, but there you have it.

So I act quickly. Cancel the train ticket to TO. Reschedule my meetings. Find a place to stay in Ottawa for an extra night. Book a bus ticket to Montreal. Print the sides and my resume. Grab all the work I need to take with me. Do laundry I thought I'd be doing in Toronto because I need something to wear to the audition.

I know I must seem insane. What I am doing is not "normal" and even fellow performers think it's nutz. I can't even begin to think what I would do if I had a kid to take care of on top of that. I don't even know how I could possibly get myself a boyfriend throughout all of this. I mean, are there handsome, funny, charming, ambitious, driven & arts friendly guys out there who could deal with seeing their lady friend on a fairly irregular basis? If there are, I am taking applications.

But I do it. I drop everything. I make it work. Somehow. Go big or go home.

Say Goodnight And Go

I had eight auditions and two callbacks over a three week period: one feature film, two commercials, a student film, a low-budget short, and three theatre auditions for which I received two callbacks. This is a dream situation for any actor. Sure, they were all pretty equally broken up over three different cities (the Golden Triangle of MTL-OTT-TO), and I never spent more than two days in the same city throughout that time, but it happened. This is amazing. This is incredible. This has never happened to me before and it is exactly where I want to be, right? Well, sort of. Auditions are great, they really are, but I want to work, paid work, so I can maybe actually settle somewhere for a little while, you know, perhaps more than a week... gosh, wouldn't that be nice?

The unwritten rule of thumb for actors is that you are doing well if you happen to book 1 out of every 10 auditions. Of all of them, I booked the student film. Which is awesome and I totally did a bit of a happy dance at the prospect of being the lead in a film, even if I don't get paid for it. I'll talk more about it later on, but I'm really looking forward to finally getting some material that I can use for a demo reel in the hopes of booking more (paying) work in the future.

I'd like to say that it doesn't bother me when I don't get the gig. That after all this time I am soooooooo beyond that and everything just slides right off my back. Or that maybe I was lazy and didn't prepare enough and so it's my own fault I didn't get it. But I know that's not the case. Not this time. I've risked too much to be lazy. I worked my ass off for every single one of these auditions. I met up with a partner to work on monologues and scenes. I hired a coach. I was in a play, so that initial "desperation" for work didn't creep in because I was already working. Everything was aligned.

But not really.

One after another, in comes the "thank you very much" speech. If you're lucky, because sometimes it doesn't even come in at all. So I got bummed. I didn't want to because logically, I know how this works, that I can't take it personally and...

Oh fuck that shit! I took it personally. I did. You put too much of yourself into this job not to. I had a pity party where the DJ played variations of the Top 40 hit "Nobody in this Town Wants to Hire You as a Performer," the country blues classic "I'd Have a Drink, but my Doctor Told Me Not To," the smooth power ballad "Love Walks Away from Losers," and the raging punk rock anthem "Fuck You (Building a Career Out of Spite)." Albums are on sale now. Just send me $9.99 via Paypal and I'll send you your very own copy. All proceeds go to Nancy's Roller Derby Fund.

Because after the party was over and all was said and done. I picked myself back up, which is incredibly easy to do if you're sober (imagine that!) and went back to work. I met with my director for my upcoming Roller Derby show. We hacked away at the script until I'm almost starting up again from scratch. And I'm ok with that. It felt good to see he got some of what I was trying to say and could articulate the parts I knew weren't working but couldn't understand why. I have a structure now, which is great, and I can move forward.

Run, stumble, fall. Get up. Repeat. Run, stumble, fall. Get up. Repeat. Run, stumble, fall. Get up. Repeat.

Just make sure you get up.

2010 Les Prix Rideau Awards Nominations

On Monday night, the nominations for the 4th annual Les Prix Rideau Awards were announced and I am kind of pleased that the show I was in at the Ottawa Fringe Festival (albeit for one performance only) was nominated for Outstanding Fringe Production. This was the show we also took to the Calgary Fringe Festival. I loved working on the Last Goddamned Performance Piece and I would do it again in a second if the opportunity presented itself.

The only show I didn't see among all the nominees was Turn of the Screw and with all the nominations it got, I really wish I had been able to. That's the unfortunate thing with theatre awards as opposed to film awards. When film awards are announced the movie can get a whole new life out of it, whereas with the theatre you can just be disappointed you missed it. I try to avoid that disappointment by seeing as much as possible, but there's always one or two that slip away.

Ah well! A big congratulation to all the nominees and I will see you on April 10th!

*********************************

NOMINEES ANNOUNCED FOR THE FOURTH ANNUAL PRIX RIDEAU AWARDS

For immediate release Ottawa, February 28, 2011 -

Founded in 2006 to celebrate, encourage and promote French and English locally produced professional theatre work and its artists, the Prix Rideau Awards is proud to announce the nominees for 2010.

Artists and supporters gathered earlier at the Atomic Rooster where the nominees for outstanding achievements in the year 2010 were unveiled.

During the 2010 calendar year, 41 English productions and 15 French productions were juried by two teams of local arts professionals. Nominations were submitted by secret ballot and tallied by independent accountants.

The Prix Rideau Awards will be handed out on Sunday, April 10, 2011, at La Maison du citoyen in Gatineau. Tickets are on sale now at www.prixrideauawards.ca.

The nominees for English-language productions are:

Outstanding Production Blackbird, Third Wall Theatre Facts, Great Canadian Theatre Company / New Theatre of Ottawa Heroes, Great Canadian Theatre Company Swimming in the Shallows, Arts Court Productions Turn of the Screw, Screwdriver Collective

Outstanding Direction Joël Beddows, Swimming in the Shallows, Arts Court Productions Mary Ellis, Blackbird, Third Wall Theatre Patrick Gauthier, Turn of the Screw, Screwdriver Collective Lise Ann Johnson, Heroes, Great Canadian Theatre Company Andy Massingham, Twelfth Night, Ottawa Theatre School

Outstanding Performance, Female Sarah Finn, Shadows, Queen Mab / Parry Riposte Productions Emma Hunter, They All Do It, Odyssey Theatre Catriona Leger, Someone for Everyone, NightHowl Productions Sarah McVie, Educating Rita, Arts Court Productions Kristina Watt, Blackbird, Third Wall Theatre

Outstanding Performance, Male Peter Froehlich, Heroes, Great Canadian Theatre Company Kris Joseph, Macbeth, St. Lawrence Shakespeare Festival Kris Joseph, Turn of the Screw, Screwdriver Collective John Koensgen, Blackbird, Third Wall Theatre Paul Rainville, Heroes, Great Canadian Theatre Company

Outstanding Lighting Design Lynn Cox, Swimming in the Shallows, Arts Court Productions Guillaume Houët, Blackbird, Third Wall Theatre Guillaume Houët, Turn of the Screw, Screwdriver Collective Jock Munro, The List, Great Canadian Theatre Company Jock Munro, Vimy, Great Canadian Theatre Company / NAC English Theatre

Outstanding Set Design Martin Conboy, Facts, Great Canadian Theatre Company / New Theatre of Ottawa Lynn Cox, Swimming in the Shallows, Arts Court Productions Brian Perchaluk, Vimy, Great Canadian Theatre Company / NAC English Theatre Brian Smith, Heroes, Great Canadian Theatre Company Ivo Valentik, The Danish Play, A Company of Fools

Outstanding Costume Design Judith DeBoer, Shadows, Queen Mab / Parry Riposte Productions Louise Hayden, The Danish Play, A Company of Fools Brian Perchaluk, Vimy, Great Canadian Theatre Company / NAC English Theatre Andrea Robertson, Macbeth, St. Lawrence Shakespeare Festival Sarah Waghorn, Turn of the Screw, Screwdriver Collective

Outstanding New Creation Airport Security, Gruppo Rubato Facts, Great Canadian Theatre Company / New Theatre of Ottawa Shadows, Queen Mab / Parry Riposte Productions Six: At Home, Zopyra Theatre They All Do It, Odyssey Theatre

Outstanding Adaptation A Flea in Her Ear, Seven-Thirty Productions Heroes, Great Canadian Theatre Company The Radio Show: It’s a Wonderful Life, Gladstone Productions

Outstanding Fringe Production It’s Just a Stage, Modern Geek Theatre Multinational Grape Corporations, Negative Theatre Shadows, Queen Mab / Parry Riposte Productions Six: At Home, Zopyra Theatre The Last Goddamned Performance Piece, Black Sheep Theatre

Emerging Artist Award Anna Chambers, Stage Manager Nathan Ings, Actor Cari Leslie, Actor Guy Marsan, Actor Hilary Nichol, Stage Manager

Technical / Stage Management Award Nicolas Alain, It’s Just a Stage, Modern Geek Theatre Rebecca Eamon, Macbeth and Trouble on Dibble Street, St. Lawrence Shakespeare Festival Jim Fritz, I, Pulse Theatre Collective Hilary Nichol, A Flea in Her Ear, Seven-Thirty Productions Jane Vanstone Osborn, Turn of the Screw, Screwdriver Collective

The nominees for French-language productions are:

Production de l'année À la défense des moustiques albinos, Théâtre de la Vieille 17 / Théâtre Sortie de Secours Écume, Théâtre du Trillium Gino, le dernier morceau d'amour, Théâtre Dérives Urbaines Les Médecins de Molière, Théâtre la Catapulte / Théâtre français de Toronto Sahel, Théâtre de la Vieille 17

Mise en scène de l'année Philippe Soldevila, À la défense des moustiques albinos, Théâtre de la Vieille 17 / Théâtre Sortie de Secours Daniel Mroz, Circe/Landfall Anne-Marie White, Écume, Théâtre du Trillium Magali Lemèle, Gino, le dernier morceau d'amour, Théâtre Dérives Urbaines Jean Stéphane Roy, Les Médecins de Molière, Théâtre la Catapulte / Théâtre français de Toronto

Interprétation féminine de l'année Geneviève Couture, Écume, Théâtre du Trillium Éva Daigle, À la défense des moustiques albinos, Théâtre de la Vieille 17 / Théâtre Sortie de Secours Sasha Dominique, La Cousine Germaine, Théâtre de l’Île Sophie Goulet, Les Médecins de Molière, Théâtre la Catapulte / Théâtre français de Toronto Emmanuelle Lussier-Martinez, Gino, le dernier morceau d'amour, Théâtre Dérives Urbaines

Interprétation masculine de l'année Marc-André Charette, Écume, Théâtre du Trillium Mehdi Hamdad, Afghanistan, Théâtre la Catapulte Pierre Antoine Lafon Simard, Écume, Théâtre du Trillium Jean Stéphane Roy, L'Illustre Théâtre, Théâtre de l’Île Pierre Simpson, Les Médecins de Molière, Théâtre la Catapulte / Théâtre français de Toronto

Conception de l'année - éclairages Paul Auclair, Sahel, Théâtre de la Vieille 17 Guillaume Houët, Écume, Théâtre du Trillium Guillaume Houët, Gino, le dernier morceau d'amour, Théâtre Dérives Urbaines Guillaume Houët, La Cousine Germaine, Théâtre de l’Île

Conception de l'année - décors Julie Giroux, La Cousine Germaine, Théâtre de l’Île Dominic Manca, Les Médecins de Molière, Théâtre la Catapulte / Théâtre français de Toronto Érica Schmitz, À la défense des moustiques albinos, Théâtre de la Vieille 17 / Théâtre Sortie de Secours Ivo Valentik, Afghanistan, Théâtre la Catapulte Normand Vandal, Sahel, Théâtre de la Vieille 17

Conception de l'année - costumes Geneviève Couture, Écume, Théâtre du Trillium Geneviève Couture, Sahel, Théâtre de la Vieille 17 Andrée Rainville, La pluie de bleuets, Créations In Vivo Mylène Ménard, La Cousine Germaine, Théâtre de l’Île Nina Okens, Les Médecins de Molière, Théâtre la Catapulte / Théâtre français de Toronto

Nouvelle création de l'année Afghanistan, Théâtre la Catapulte Circe/Landfall, Daniel Mroz Gino, le dernier morceau d'amour, Théâtre Dérives Urbaines

Prix artiste en émergence Mehdi Hamdad, interprétation Véronique-Marie Kaye, dramaturgie Frédérique Thérien, interprétation

-30-

Post Play Depression

I just want to play World of Warcraft. My Dranei Shaman just passed the level 60 mark and I bought a flying mount.

I'm giving you all a minute for my extreme level of nerdom to sink in.

...

We good? Ok. I used to play, years ago, with my ex-boyfriend. When I started heading down to Toronto, my roommate was playing. He bought his wife an account but she wasn't using it. It took maybe a day for him to mention it enough for me to start playing again.

I love the game because I can completely tune out anything happening with me or the outside world.

*****************************

Little Martyrs closed last week. It was probably the most fulfilling production for me to work on both as an artist and as an administrator. I've talked about Show Withdrawal before. Since I started feeling sick and slept for almost 24 hours immediately after the show, I figured I had passed through the withdrawal phase. I did a reading for a new French play, packed up my stuff and headed down to Toronto for an audition.

Something was nagging at me though. I didn't feel like working out anymore. My sleep was shite. So I logged on. I played for an entire day. The next one I unpacked, only to find out I needed to head back to Ottawa for a callback audition.

Maybe it was seeing the Little Martyrs cast all over again. Maybe it was having a chat with one of the beautiful ladies from The Importance of Being Ernest, which had closed the night before, who coined the term "PPD or Post Play Depression"... But when I woke up Monday morning it hit me like a ton of bricks: a weight of sadness. I just laid there for a while.

I got up because I had grants to write. That done, I managed to get pissed off enough to go run at the gym, beating my personal best. Then I went to my coaching workshop with Barbara Deutsch. I cried during my check in.

And then I felt better. Motivated. Ready to take on the world. More like me.

PPD - 0 / Nancy - 1 / WoW - 61

The Greatest Review Evah

In June of last year, I discovered THIS BLOG (or CHUD, if you prefer) when I was looking up the Ottawa Fringe and it made me laugh. Here was someone talking about my favourite things (theatre, Fringe) and his writing made me laugh. Like a lot. The more I read, the more I loved this neophyte's (a much cooler sounding word than "newbie" as I'm sure he would agree) approach to the theatre. His pilot light turned on and he just loved... everything. All of it. All theatre. It was so incredibly refreshing to my cold, grinchy heart now jaded from years of working in this field.

I eventually met this mystery writer who somehow sees more theatre than I do (Really? WTF?) and he quickly became a pal, who is currently my cat's roommate throughout what I like to dub my "vagabond" year.

And so I read his blog all the time now. It's funny and insightful and often reminds me why I love this art form so much.

All that to say, yes, I am totally biased. And yes, I am aware that The Visitor is often very kind in his show reviews. That doesn't mean I don't find this to be a very well-written review of a show from a guy who just flat out got it.

I highly encourage you to go and read the Little Martyrs review that includes gems like these:

The set grabs you by the throat and just instantly starts twisting your brain in directions that haven’t even been invented yet. I don’t know what mad scientist’s lab Pierre Ducharme escaped from, but thank fuck his talents have been channelled to good use. The set is bafflingly cool in a way MC Escher only had nightmares about.

...this is the closest you’re coming to seeing a David Lynch movie live on stage in this town anytime soon.

Shows like this don’t come along that often, folks. And like it, love it, flee screaming from it…you should see it. Yes. Yes, you should.

And once you're done reading it, call this number - 613-564-7240 - and buy yourself a ticket to the show. There's only one week left to the run.

Little Martyrs runs until February 19 in Arts Court Studio A, 2 Daly Ave.

Little Martyrs

Well, the time has finally arrived. About two years ago, Mishka Lavigne approached Evolution Theatre with an idea for a translation. Of all the plays she approached us with, La petite scrap by Dominick Parenteau-Lebeuf was the one that appealed to Chris Bedford, our Artistic Director, the most (and I'll let you read his program notes about that when you come and see the show). Mishka and Chris contacted the playwright and went to visit her in Montreal. Dominick was impressed with Chris’ vision for the show and readily agreed to the rights as long as the process would be supervised by Maureen Labonté, a well- known and critically acclaimed dramaturg in the Canadian theatre scene, since this was to be Mishka's first translation from French to English. After many revisions and workshops that were graciously supported by the Canada Council for the Arts, the piece was almost ready for the stage.

Chris would of course Direct and our company General Manager, Linda, would Stage Manage. I, of course, called dibs on the one female role that I could suitably play, but you can trust that Chris would never have agreed to that if he didn't think I could do it.

On the design front, our long-time collaborator, Pierre Ducharme, would handle set & lights. From seeing his electronic maquette of the set at the first read to the 14 hour days he's been pulling off over the last two weeks, managing technical glitch after technical glitch beautifully and seamlessly, I knew we had the best guy for the job. For costumes, we courted the always incredible Sarah Waghorn who at first thought she might be too busy to take on the show. I can't tell you how thrilled we were when, not only did she realize she could do it, but she could also work within our budget! Finally, for sound, I'd been name dropping AL Connors at company meetings ever since I first saw A Company of Fools' A Mid-Winter's Dreamtale. Dude isn't just a great DJ, he is a fantastic sound designer too.

And for the rest of the cast, well have you seen who we've got onboard? Jody Haucke, Brad Long, Margo MacDonald and Matt Miwa - an incredible ensemble of talent, courage, dedication and pure love of the work.

We, at Evolution Theatre, have been incredibly blessed throughout the entire process of creation for this show and we are now ready to share all of it with you. We hope that you will be able to come out and join us at some point during the run.

OPENING NIGHT IS TONIGHT! SQUEEEEEEEEEEE!

World English-language premiere of:

Little Martyrs By Dominick Parenteau-Lebeuf Translated by Mishka Lavigne / Dramaturgy by Maureen Labonté

February 9 to 19, 2011 Arts Court - Ottawa Dance Directive, Studio A, 2 Daly Ave Tuesday to Saturday - 8 p.m. Saturday and Sunday - 2 p.m.

Directed by Christopher Bedford

Lighting and Set Design by Pierre Ducharme Costume & Properties Design by Sarah Waghorn Sound Design by AL Connors

Featuring: Jody Haucke Nancy Kenny Brad Long Margo MacDonald Matt Miwa

Story Synopsis: Directed by company Artistic Director, Christopher Bedford, Little Martyrs is a fictional account inspired by the real-life events that shocked the world in 1993 when two young boys kidnapped a toddler in Great Britain. Ten years after the sordid crime they committed when they were children, Jacob (Matt Miwa -recent member of the National Arts Centre’s Resident Acting Company) and Ludo (Brad Long - Les Prix Rideau Award, Emerging Artist Nominee) are released from prison. Each strives for redemption in a different way; Jacob finds himself on a higher path and Ludo discovers beauty through creation. The two young men meet again under new identities through Minnie (Nancy Kenny), a former runaway who rents Jacob her late newborn’s room. Searching for his partner in crime, Ludo sets up a studio next door. From this point on the story takes a more complex turn. Rounding out the cast are Margo MacDonald, fresh off her sold-out run of Shadows during the Great Canadian Theatre Company’s Undercurrents Festival, as Minnie’s mother and Jody Haucke as Minnie’s father.

TICKETS ON SALE NOW!

Tickets $25 / $20 students & seniors PWYC Matinee - Sunday, Feb 13 Box Office: 613-564-7240

Artist and group rates available

The Publicist's Dilemma (Part 4)

Remember how back in Part 2 I briefly touched on the difficulties with being both an actor and a publicist for a show? (No? Well then go click on that link!) Well, recently, with Little Martyrs, I've discovered another issue: even though I am a performer in the show, I don't want to be interviewed about it. It's kind of weird, since I love talking about the show, but I feel that when I have my actor hat on, it takes away from my publicist abilities (and vice-versa) because, you know, I only have one head on which to rest my chapeau. So at the well-attended media call for Martyrs, I wanted to take care of the media folk - introduce them to cast and crew, set them up with interviews, make sure they have everything they need, stuff them with cookies, ect - but I had to do all this in an elaborate costume since I was involved in the scene we were presenting (an unavoidable fact as I am in almost every scene). I found it hard to then turn that switch off and be a good actor when what I really wanted to do at the time was make sure the lights were alright and that the cameras were getting all the good angles.

Two days ago, another media outlet asked to "talk to one of the actors" - of course I could have done it myself, but I also had to think bigger - and so I submitted our most popular cast member, who recently sold out a run of her very own less than two weeks ago at the GCTC Undercurrents Festival and whose name would carry more weight than mine - as difficult as that might be to imagine ;)

I'm very lucky this time around that I have four other actors, as well as a director whom I can send out in my place. I just wonder what it will be like when I'm the actor, producer & publicist for my own one woman show...

Little Martyrs runs from Feb 9 to 19 in the Ottawa Dance Directive - Studio A

The Dam Breaks

If you knew that you would find a truth that brings up pain that can't be soothed, would you change? Would you change? - Tracy Chapman

I had a good day today. The media call for Little Martyrs was well attended and I was proud of my work from a publicist's stand point.

After our dinner break, we resumed rehearsal where we had left off the day before. For one particular scene, I had pretty much been doing the same thing over and over for the last week. The director flat out told me that it was boring and to do something else. I did. It didn't work. I tried again. Still nothing. I was getting frustrated. Finally, the director said "why don't you let us know what's going on." I froze, my brain desperately trying to figure out what that meant, so I did the first thing that came to my gut in order to shut it up: I screamed.

That's when the dam broke and it all came rushing out. That's when I finally fell into the last half of the play. That's when I did the good work.

By the end of it all, I felt incredibly raw and, yes, vulnerable. More than anything, I wanted to be able to go out for a drink. Or maybe smoke? The doctor didn't say not to smoke, right? Sigh. Perhaps sensing it, my stage dad came over and gave me a big hug, which I totally needed and appreciated. Still, I was itching for something, anything to drown out and/or numb all this... feeling.

And that's when I heard that little voice, the good one, the true one, my inner artist's voice and it said: "Hey. How about we just sit in this for a while and see where that gets us?"

So I took a breath and I said ok. I popped my headphones in and I let the music carry me down the mountain. I let myself be soothed and chill out. Tomorrow, we begin again.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FodfkqfJrhQ]

My Own Dam

The minute I read this post by my dear friend, Kris Joseph, I wanted to comment on it. The part that struck me the most was this one:

I’m not surprised that substance abuse is so prevalent in this line of work: this profession is bizarre. Our tools are our emotions; our product is catharsis (direct and indirect). Actors stir up mountainous levels of feeling as part of their daily work, and they have to climb off those mountains somehow. One terrific and easy way of making the descent every night is with a pint. And that’s what actors do.

Climbing down the mountain! What a beautiful metaphor. For years, I've tried to explain it and it's all right there. That's exactly what it feels like. It's also typically why I drink so much more when I'm working on a show. Gosh, on tour it was pretty much: flyer, show, drink, repeat.

But I held back from commenting because what I'd have to say would be so inherently personal, so confrontational of my own inner demons; who'd want to even read this shit? Well, seeing as how a cutesy post on my accidental dating life was the biggest draw of the past couple of months, apparently, many of you do. So that was the good, here is the ugly.

To be honest, I've never considered myself an alcoholic. I've gotten stupid drunk (and by that I mean I've done stupid, unsafe things while drunk - most of which you know of MOM so stop worrying please, I love you kthxbai) a few times, but I'd like to think that I can handle myself well. I grew up in a family where a drink after work was the norm and social drinking at family occasions was always such fun (some of my favorite memories include going out with my cousins or drinking wine with my godmother). I come from the East Coast, which means I also know how to pound back my fair share, often more than the average man or woman before it really affects me. Then again, there was a bit running joke at the GCTC that you just had to stir some ice cubes and I would come running like Pavlov's Dog, so who knows what other's perception might be?

All this to say, I love a good drink with friends as a way to unwind, and I'm not usually very discriminatory in my poison of choice.

Funny word to use there: poison. Because that's pretty much what I've been told it was today by my doctor. I've had digestive issues for years and, after a while, you just start to believe that that is just the way it always will be. But a doctor did some tests and I've been told I need to cut out yeast, wheat and keep the glutten to a minimum. This means, no more booze. For three weeks. When I have a show opening in less than a week...

I'm a grown-up and I know that I will be fine with this (especially since I was told that I would probably lose quite a bit of weight in the process, which let me tell you is an excellent motivator). Personally, I had already thought about cutting back for quite a few times now, but then someone would ask to go for drinks or offer me a beer or I'd have just a really hard day and my resolve went down with the cool crisp beverage that found its way into my hand. But I always wondered what I would do if I didn't have my "feel-good crutch" - how would I cope? You mean I'd just have to deal with my rage, my depression, my fears and, yes, even my joy without being able to numb any of it down? All on my own? Can I do that?

Well, I guess I'm about to find out.

Little Martyrs runs from February 9 to 19 at Arts Court - Ottawa Dance Directive, Studio A, 2 Daly Ave. Click here for more details.

Footprints in a Wonderful Life

Brace yourselves. I'm going to say something inherently controversial: I fucking hate It's a Wonderful Life.

It makes my blood boil and creates a completely irrational amount of anger in me. Yes, yes, I've seen the whole thing. I know all about the "hopeful" ending and isn't great how the angel finally got his wings? But, I. Don't. Care. Because George Bailey? Is a schmuck.

And yet, every year I still watch it like a fool who hopes that maybe this time the Titanic won't sink. I'll sit in front of the TV and yell things in the hopes he might actually hear me.

Ernie. Ernie! (Or maybe Bert? Who cares, you're interchangeable anyway.) DO NOT STOP THAT CAR! George. George! Keep driving George! DO NOT TURN AROUND! Those vultures are going to bleed you DRY! And you're never going to travel the world! Keep going, George! RUN AWAY!

But he never listens. And I sit there fuming. Every. Single. Year. (And the folks at the Gladstone should be happy I saw the movie before the stage show and got all my yelling out then.)

Finally, today, I realized what it was that irked me so much about this film and has it sticking with me long after the holiday season has ended. You see, George gets to *SPOILER ALERT* see what life would be like if he hadn't been in it. My self-destructive, nihilistic side HATES that, because it means that not only does everyone matter, but that I matter. That I also have an effect on those around me and, well, then I have no excuse to bitch about my life, because, dag nabbit! It's a wonderful life!

Though we can't all have a real live angel pop up and whisk us away to the land of never been born, we can get metaphorical angels giving us little reminders every once in a while. My first recorded memory of such an incident happened in during my University days.

Every year, I was a Frosh Guide and people loved having me on their team because I was, to put it mildly, rather enthusiastic.

YES YES, YES WE DO! WE GOT SPIRIT, HOW 'BOUT YOU?

To give you an idea of the level of spirit I had, after barely a year at school, I ran for a VP position on the U of O's student council - basically the highest level of student councilness you can achieve - and my opponent once publicly tried to slander me as "VP Cheerleader - All pep and no substance."

He lost. Suck on my pride, asshole.

Anyway, every year I was a Frosh Guide and every year a handful of students would approach me to say that they got involved in student life because of me. There's a certain amount of joy and shock that comes in moments like that. In the sense that I can't believe something that seemed so small, so second nature to me, something that I would have done anyway, inspired someone else to do something.

A footprint.

Today, an angel let me know that something I had said to them in passing, something that I do not even remember saying a few years ago, struck a chord and made them reexamine a part of themselves. And part of this conversation even ended up in a performance piece they are working on. That moved me on a level that I couldn't even begin to describe.

Today, I was reminded why I love people and this art form so much. Because it's a chain reaction. It's all relative, it's all connected, it all matters. We all matter. And yes, I matter too.

Maybe I should cut George Bailey a little more slack.

A World of Possibilities

If I didn't have to take care of the kids, I'd do it. If it wasn't for my job, nothing would stop me. If I didn't have a significant other, I'd go. If... If... If...

What happens when every obstacle to risk, every barrier gets removed? What are you left with?

Choice. The opportunity to do anything, absolutely anything you could possibly want to do. Anything. People kill for that kind of freedom.

The papers are signed. A stranger is moving into my condo for an entire year. I have no home, no attachments, no real responsibilities. I have a pocketful of change and a shiny blue suitcase. And most of all, I have a staggering amount of choices.

Living the dream, right?

I won't lie. I'm scared. Sometimes, the more choice I seem to have, the more paralyzed I feel. I think too much. I create lists and analyze them in my head. This city or that one? Who do I move in with? Strangers or friends? When can I go pick up Winston? It's started to affect me, even though I pretend that it doesn't. I have trouble sleeping and my digestion is a mess. I'm frustrated, distracted, tired. And worst of all, I'm dragging all this muck into rehearsal with me. I become a bad actor is some twisted game of self-sabotage. You know, because if I suck well then I can't be disappointed if things don't work out.

And all because I have a wonderful blessing that people all over the world strive for: choice.

Nancy, Nancy, Nancy. What am I going to do with you?

The Publicist's Dilemma (Part 2)

Ask the majority of actors and they will tell you how they try not to read reviews during the run of a show. I get it. The outcomes are never good. You might get a bad review that, after weeks of hard work & baring your soul, just breaks your fucking heart on the scale of "little kid crying about how people are just MEAN" all the way to "Oh my God, I suck! I am the suckiest actor that ever sucked!" All of this making you doubt yourself and your performer choices and wish that you didn't have a whole other week of performances to go through, because frankly, why should you be subjecting people to THAT? Of course, your friends, your colleagues, even your director will tell you to pay it no mind, that it's just one person's opinion, and really, nobody ever reads the *insert publication here* Or maybe the reverse happens. You get an amazing review! They loved you! They really loved you! And just like that you find yourself with a sense of bloated false self-esteem, which you know isn't true because what your friends said about bad reviews also applies to good ones, but it still ruins all the beautiful nuances you had found in the script because now you're just hamming it up. "Do you get it? THIS is that funny part he/she mentioned in the review. Do you get it? This is funny, right? Do you see how FUNNY I am?"

Ugh.

Heck, even worse is if you get a good review and your colleague gets a bad one, or vice versa. Awkward stares in the dressing room as you both pretend you don't know what was said. And no one can really say anything without opening up a can of worms. If you got the good review, you can't say all the regular platitudes, because the response will always be, "well that's easy for you to say". If you get the bad review, well, what can you say?

So as an actor, you just avoid this messy mess altogether.

But what if the actor also happens to be the publicist for the show? If you're producing your own work, chances are the bulk of the administrative work, including marketing and publicity ends up in your plate.

Which means that in my case, for the reasons I explained in Part 1, I have to read the reviews about myself during the run of a show. And let me tell you, it's not always fun.

So what do you do? You learn to compartmentalize, be objective and take everything with a grain of salt - three things that I am not very good at.

I don't have an answer for this one. If someone else does, please, share your secret!

And Here's the Crash

I haven't done a play since last summer and as soon as rehearsals started on Saturday, I felt that blissful high invade my body. If you are an artist, or perhaps and athlete, of any kind, you know what I am talking about. That incredible rush, a mixture of joy and adrenaline, that comes solely from doing what you love more than anything else in the world. We've had 4 incredibly amazing rehearsals for Little Martyrs where we've explored, tried new things, made discoveries, and, yes, played (there was even a Nancy-sandwich at one point, so you know, I'm not complaining). We've so far managed to work through every single scene in the play at least once and things are looking good.

And tomorrow we get a day off.

My body knows this and, like any good addict being separated from his or her junk, I'm crashing. Hard. Yup, rehearsal ended a few hours ago and the crash was almost instant. I'm feeling moody, experiencing body aches from moving into new physical areas, and then there's the pain.

Yes, actual pain. Because this is more than some kind of show crash.

You see, yesterday, I had minor surgery. Just a couple lumps that I had been on a waiting list to have removed. Seriously no big deal and I've had it done in the past without any trouble. Of course, me being who I am (which is totally crazy), after my surgery, I showed up for rehearsal.

Yes, I showed up for rehearsal after being told to "take it easy" by the doctor (rehearsal is easy, right?), looking pale, queezy probably from the local anesthetic leaving my body, and with blood seeping through the bandages from where the stitches were placed... Cuz I'm a trouper (also RE: totally crazy). I was promptly forced home by the stage manager once the whole bloody bandages thing was discovered and we couldn't find any replacements in the building.

Even showing up today probably wasn't the smartest move because of the awkward location of the stitches, but you know what adrenaline does? It blocks pain! Which is awesome! Until the adrenaline goes away. And you end up going home by yourself crying into a bottle of wine you just bought but realize you probably shouldn't drink because you're not sure how that would work with painkillers. Also, I really wish I had someone to tuck me in. Because when you're sick or you have a booboo, you immediately turn 5 again.

So part of me is happy to have the break to rest and get better, but the other part of me really wishes that I could have more of those adrenaline rush rehearsal blockers because this ibuprofen is just NOT CUTING IT.

He's Dead

On Saturday, I sat on the train in Toronto, heading back to Ottawa, with my director for Little Martyrs, Christopher Bedford. I had been in town for an audition and he had spent the past two weeks studying Bouffon with Philippe Gaulier. Along with directing the show and being Artistic Director for Evolution Theatre, Chris is also a very dear friend. Who after two intensive weeks of training just wanted to sleep before we got back to Ottawa for our first rehearsal that night. I, on the other hand, felt that it would be a much more productive use of my time to bombard my director with all my questions & neuroses about the play. You know, since he couldn't get away.

Before we had even left the station, I had already let it be known that I found the first scene to be hard. I always find the first scene of a play difficult and especially hate having the first line of dialogue. If you have the second line, you can play off whatever the other actor has fed you, but the first line? Fuggeddaboutit.

Chris kindly held his sighing to a minimum and indulged me: "What do you find so hard about it?"

"Well, why am I back in town? After all this time, why did my character choose now? It can't just be because of x, y & z. There has to be more than that and I just don't know what it is!"

He smiled and related a story that Gaulier had said to his group during the intensive.

*For full effect, please picture a scruffy young guy doing an impression of a scruffy old guy with a bad French accent.

...

**To be clear, the old guy doesn't have a bad French accent. I am certain that his accent is quite legitimate.

Chris picked up an imaginary phone and started speaking into his finger: "Hello?... Stani? (pause) Stani? (longer pause) Lavski? ... Stani? ... Oooooooh. Stani? Stani? ... (long pause) Lavski? ... Ooooooh. He's not well. (longer pause) Stani? (long pause) Stani? ... Lavski? ... (pause) Oooooooh. Five minutes? ... Stani? ... Lavski? (pause) Stani? ... Ooooooh. He's sick."

OK, picture this going on for about another five minutes. And it's funny. And the longer it goes it stops being funny. And then it keeps going. And it becomes funny all over again. Like that Family Guy video where Peter hurts his knee.

Anyway, the whole thing ends with Chris hanging up the phone-finger and telling me quite sombrely: "He's dead."

Which, if you are not familiar with the dead man or his practices, basically means that the answer to my questions is a very simple "Who cares?"

What's going on in the scene? There's a knock at the door. Do you or don't you want to answer it. End of story.

I laughed. Because if you are a theatre nerd this is one of those "it's funny because it's true" moments.

Satisfied, Chris put his headphones in, secure in the knowledge that I wasn't going to ask any more stupid questions. At least, not during this trip.

And just like that, my trust level in my director skyrocketed, my actor doubts disappeared and I just knew, in my gut now, that we were going to have a great show on our hands.

Little Martyrs - February 9 to 19 in Arts Court Studio A - 2 Daly Avenue

More Than A Spice

Last year, I wondered aloud what theatre companies were looking for when calls for general auditions are put out. I still don't really have an answer, but I do know that since receiving my full CAEA status this past summer and putting down a Toronto address, I've received an answer to two out of five applications. After years of sending these out into a void, those are some pretty damn good results.

Yesterday, I finally put my foot into the door of the Toronto theatre scene with a General Audition at the Tarragon Theatre. I was asked to come in with two contrasting Canadian monologues.

Sitting around in the waiting room, staring at past show posters, I realized I had already seen quite a few Tarragon productions while they were on tour in Ottawa. That said, when I was considering monologues, my only familiarity with work on their stage was the shockingly beautiful If We Were Birds. I saw this production during a trip in May where I got to meet the wicked cool SMLois in person for the very first time. I went in knowing nothing about the show and, if I remember correctly, we saw it on Mother's Day.

Now, if you are at all familiar with Erin Shields' script, you might quickly realize that this probably isn't a show you want to see on Mother's Day. But you would totally understand why, for my audition, I decided to pull out what I like to call the "dead baby" monologue (from hereon called "DB" for short because I just don't really like typing "dead baby" all the time).

Along with the DB monologue, I also came in with a piece from Daniel MacIvor's See Bob Run, an awesome and completely underrated little show, you know, for levity's sake.

I walk in and there's a little bit of chitchat and a comment that made me think everyone and their dog comes it with MacIvor, so I'm asked to start with the DB.

Oh, gosh, really? You want to start with that one? Alright.

Of course, the auditionee does not know what the piece is about because it's not called that and, well, why spoil all the fun? (she says, tongue firmly planted in cheek - please don't email me about DBs!)

And as I speak, I see the realization dawning on the auditionee's face as she begins to understand what I'm talking about. She gets more and more uncomfortable until she can't even look at me anymore. For a split second, I think I must really be fucking this up. But only a split second as it suddenly dawns on ME that this is EXACTLY the type of reaction this monologue should get. There was this quiet in the room at the end. I'm not sure she knew I was done.

Mild awkwardness aside, I then moved on to Bob and the mood changed dramatically. Perhaps it was simple tension relief, but I had the auditionee in stitches. When I finished, she gave me the incredible compliment of: "You're very funny! Not many people can do MacIvor well."

(Well, if you're ever looking for someone to remount this show... Ahem.)

I thanked her for her time, she thanked me for ending things on a laugh and I walked out feeling pretty good about the whole experience. Toronto Theatre Audition Cherry: Popped.

The Problems You Want

Is there a term for that? A "good" problem? I'm curious. My year is off to a very good start. I've got work lined up for January/February with Evolution Theatre's Little Martyrs and it has been confirmed to me today that tickets are now on sale through the Arts Court Box Office - 613-564-7240 (Details about the show can be found under my Upcoming Appearance tab.)

I've also been requested for two general auditions in Toronto. After years of sending in packages without answer, I'm thrilled! (Though I'm quite sure this is partly due to my Equity status and partly to my use of a Toronto mailing address.) Since rehearsals for me don't really begin until this Saturday, I can attend one of them no problem. The other? Is at the same time as rehearsal next week. Did I mention that rehearsals are in Ottawa?

As actor's these are the kinds of problems we want: being too busy working at our craft to do more, no matter how much more we want to do.

Still, it sucks. This is not for work during the run of the show, this is for work this summer, so it's unfortunate that I can't even give it a shot. In these situations, all you can really do is shrug it off and keep going. This one was just not meant to be.