Mystery & memory in the delightfully whimsical, darkly funny, compelling DIANA (I Knew You When We Were Fourteen)

Ian Goff & Alexa Higgins. Photo by Barry McCluskey.

 

Falling Iguana Theatre Co., in association with The Centre for Drama, Theatre & Performance Studies (CDTPS), University of Toronto, presents the delightfully whimsical, darkly funny and compelling DIANA (I knew you when you were fourteen), by Falling Iguana co-founders Alexa Higgins and Ian Goff, with contributing playwright Sarah Higgins. A physical theatre, dark comedy mystery journey—weaving movement, memory, fantasy, fact and fiction in a fairy tale-like detective story—when Diana disappears after a high school dance, Michael is determined to find out what happened to her. Supported by consulting director Gillian Armstrong and dramaturg Sharisse LeBrun, DIANA opened for a short run in the Robert Gill Theatre at U of T last night—presented as this year’s CDTPS Alumni Performance Project.

Inspired by a footnote at the end of Michael Ondaatje’s poem Elimination Dance that read: “Diana Whitehouse, where are you?”, DIANA traces the individual paths of high school classmates Diana (Alexa Higgins) and Michael (Ian Goff) as they grow into adulthood—with Michael determined to find out what happened to Diana when she disappeared after a high school dance when they were in grade nine. Stretching out across the years, across Canada from small-town New Brunswick, to Vancouver, to Toronto—with side trips in Europe—we’re introduced to the cast of characters they cross paths with; all set to a sparkly, rockin’ 80s soundtrack.

Fact, fiction, fantasy and memory intertwine in a tale that is part dark comedy mystery and part fairy tale. Incorporating music, dance, movement and a cast of characters, we watch Michael investigate as gossip and recollection merge in the stories and perceptions about Diana and her parents. And we see events unfold from Diana’s perspective; confirming, denying and refining what people think they know about her and her family. Darkly funny, at times tender and compelling, lyrical and balletic, the audience gets caught up in both journeys as Michael searches for the truth, and Diana reaches out for a life away from the small-town rumour, judgement and assumptions about her and her parents.

Outstanding work from Higgins and Goff in this 60-minute marathon of storytelling; conveying character, emotion, action and place through monologue, dialogue, dance, movement and practically zero props/set pieces with energy and precision. Higgins brings a sardonic sense of humour with an edge of loneliness to the pragmatic, restless Diana. An enigmatic presence at school—which is what draws Michael to her—Diana struggles with flying under the radar of the small-town gaze while at the same time longing to break free. Goff is delightfully awkward, earnest and curious as Michael; unlike Diana, Michael is an open book, and his sharp focus and positive demeanour keep him on his mission to find Diana, in spite of his own personal heartbreak. And the two are hilarious as honeymooning couple Steve and Sarah; experiencing comic misadventure during a tandem bike tour around Paris. And as assorted elderly and/or gossiping neighbours, telling tall tales of the family who used to live in that house.

Memory can really be a funny thing; and can often say more about us than about the actual events we’re recalling. Tainted by judgement and assumption, and eroded by time, we may not really know what we think we know.

DIANA continues at the Robert Gill Theatre until September 15, with evening performances at 8pm, and matinées at 2pm on Sept 14 and 15; tickets available online or at the door.

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A delightful, insightful evening with Oscar in the witty, thoughtful Introducing Mr. Wilde, or Work is the Curse of the Drinking Class

Red Sandcastle Theatre A.D. Rosemary Doyle has teamed up with Jennifer Watson and Dorian Hart to launch The Wilde Festival, which opened with its inaugural production of Neil Titley’s one-man show Introducing Mr. Wilde, or Work is the Curse of the Drinking Class at Red Sandcastle’s storefront space at Queen St. East and Logan, Toronto last week.

Hart sets the tone for Titley’s intimate performance with a pre-show selection of beautiful nocturnes by Irish composer/pianist John Field, who invented the Nocturne. Field’s work served as an inspiration for Frederic Chopin’s compositions—and Chopin was a favourite of Wilde’s.

Introducing Mr. Wilde is performed in three parts. When Titley first appears onstage, it is as himself—in affable, accessible lecturer mode. Engaging and entertaining, he offers up a brief history of the show—which has been performed all over the world and to great acclaim at the Edinburgh Festival—and a quick timeline overview of Wilde’s life. In particular, we track Wilde’s 1882 lecture tour to Toronto; and Titley found the only venue still standing, not demolished or destroyed by fire, is Niagara Falls. And Wilde was apparently unimpressed by the great wonder of nature. Perhaps he only saw the American side.

Then, something truly remarkable happens. Titley transports us to 1898, to a Paris café where he shifts from himself as 2017 lecturer to Oscar Wilde, a year after he was released from his two-year prison sentence. The transformation is remarkable, both physically and vocally. As Wilde, he regales us with thoughts and anecdotes—with razor sharp wit, charm, unapologetic irreverence, and disdain for the mediocre and disingenuous. It’s not all fun and satire, though. There is an impassioned, deeply moving account of his experience in jail; and combined with that keen observation and ability to poke fun at society, it makes for a lovely nuanced, mercurial and poignant performance. Titley masterfully evokes the energy of Wilde; so much so, you can feel you’re sitting in the room with him.

Through it all, even when times are at their roughest, we see a man intent on pursuing a life of pleasure, art and beauty. Sucking the marrow out of life, even in his final days of penury and failing health, Wilde is the soul of wit to the end—a man who made the most of his life until his death at 46 in a Paris hotel.

We then return to 2017 to a short Q&A with Titley, during which one audience member asked if it was true that Wilde’s final words were “One of us has to go,” referring to the wallpaper in his hotel room. It’s highly likely. However, there is some question about his death bed conversion to Catholicism; it’s possible that his gesture in response to Ross’s query to bring a priest was misinterpreted—and he wasn’t signaling affirmation, but rather reaching for a cigarette. So his conversion could have been entirely accidental.

This is a must for all Oscar Wilde fans—or even if you’re just curious about the man. Whether you know a lot or nothing about him, it’s an entertaining and informative ride. I hear Titley is heading out on a cross-country train trip next week. If VIA Rail is smart, they’ll let him perform the show on the train.

A delightful, insightful evening with Oscar in lecture and first-person musings in the witty, thoughtful Introducing Mr. Wilde, or Work is the Curse of the Drinking Class.

Introducing Mr. Wilde, or Work is the Curse of the Drinking Class continues at Red Sandcastle until Jan 15; reserve your spot in advance by emailing redsandcastletheatre@gmail.com or by calling 416-845-9411.

Keep an eye out for future Wilde Festival productions; the website is under construction (look out for it at thewildefestival.com). In the meantime, check out this interview with Doyle about the The Wilde Festival in Xtra.

Photo: Neil Titley – by Jennifer Watson.

NSTF: Opposing forces battle for supremacy in the underworld of audience influence in the diabolically charming Clique Claque

Pea Green Theatre Group brings its own brand of dark period comedy/melodrama with Mark Brownell’s Clique Claque, directed by Sue Miner; running now in the Factory Theatre Mainspace as part of the Toronto Fringe Next Stage Theatre Festival (NSTF).

Clique Claque takes us to 1880s Paris, where we meet Madame Clothilde, aka the Chef de Claque (Michelle Langille), and her husband Yannick (Robert Clarke), who run a group of professional clappers paid to manipulate audience response to theatrical performances. They can turn a bad play into a smash hit and mediocre actors into stars. Their ingénue employee Clemantine (Thalia Kane) may seem to be the picture of naiveté and innocence, but she’s a veteran of the game; though all is not well for her.

Enter young Victor (Victor Pokinko), a one-time music prodigy and current out of work musician, newly arrived from Canada, and looking for inspiration and a job. The Claque takes him on and he proceeds with his education, and in more ways than one. As he becomes instrumental in the Claque’s plan to overthrow an opposing gang of audience influencers—a group called the Clique, led by mature student Dubosc (Ron Kennell), who brutally heckle bad performances—Victor finds he may be in for more than he bargained for. Ultimately, he must choose between what is true and right, and the bitch goddess Fame.

Incorporating some cheeky but gentle audience participation, Clique Claque is an entertaining and engaging show, featuring a stand-out cast. Langille is mesmerizing as Clothilde, the seductive mistress of manipulation. Good cop to husband Yannick’s decidedly bad cop, she may be the wife in the marriage, but one gets the distinct impression that it’s she who wears the pants. Clarke is the villain you love to hate as devilishly devious, cynical and thuggish as Yannick; he represents the dark, seedy underbelly of the Claque’s endeavours, while Clothilde brings the illusion of respectable professionalism.

As Clemantine, Kane brings some lovely layering and conflict; a young woman of some experience, she knows the harshness of the world too well and feels trapped in the Claque. There’s a lost, wistful sense of longing for something better. Pokinko’s Victor is a great combination of wide-eyed innocent and game lad; disillusioned with the world of art himself, he starts out just wanting to eat, but finds himself seduced by the prospect of money and fame. Kennell’s Dubosc is a sophisticated picture of art and academe. A man with a quick, wry wit and unexpected talents, Dubosc is a fierce crusader with a deep appreciation of the good life and that which is beautiful, especially beautiful young men.

With shouts to Nina Okens for the stunning period costumes.

Opposing forces battle for supremacy in the underworld of audience influence in the diabolically charming Clique Claque.

Clique Claque continues in the Factory Theatre Mainspace until Jan 15. Get your advance tix and passes online; and check out the full NSTF schedule.

Photo: Michelle Langille and Robert Clarke – by Mark Brownell

Pamela Williams’ photography brings us In the Midst of Angels

Williams_Pamela_ParisStatue
Paris Nude – photograph by Pamela Williams

I visited another stunning art exhibit last night: photographer Pamela Williams’ In the Midst of Angels at Sunderland Hall (First Unitarian Congregation of Toronto at 175 St. Clair Ave. W. – St. Clair W./Avenue Rd.).

I first became aware of Pamela’s’ work years ago in a newspaper piece – possibly NOW Magazine – about her upcoming appearance at the annual summer outdoor art show in Nathan Phillips Square. The piece included an image of “Siren,” a reclining nude woman. It took my breath away. And it was a cemetery monument.

When I went to that show, I met Pamela and her mum, who often comes out to keep her company at her booth, and had a chance to chat. I purchased one of her photography books – which, as a then struggling actor working part-time, was all I could afford – and vowed that I’d purchase a print of “Siren” one day. Years later, I did – and have since added “Herald” and “Water Nymph” to my collection. And it was through Pamela that I met artist/filmmaker/animator Patrick Jenkins, who also happens to be her life partner.

Pamela has travelled to Europe (Paris, Rome, Pisa, Genoa, Vienna) and Buenos Aires, touring old cemeteries, capturing images of monuments in black and white. The marble sculptures are so detailed and beautifully wrought, the resulting photographs are alarmingly life-like. You can almost see the figures breathe. In “Reflection,” the lace of the woman’s veil is so precisely rendered, you feel that if you touched it, you’d be touching fabric. The rose on the woman’s lap in “Rose,” its petals so delicately carved, you can imagine the soft satin feeling. The fine detailing of angel wing feathers, like in “Herald” from Vienna. “Water Nymph” is one of the few pieces that is not a monument, but a fountain in the cemetery Pamela visited in Buenos Aires. Some of the figures are inviting (the angel cradling the toddler in “Comfort”), grief-stricken (the inconsolable angel in “Grief”) or tormented (the reclined angel in “Genoa Angel”), while some appear to be relaxed, at peace, content. “Paris Nude” is marble, but looks like she’ll get up and walk around. You can find many of these images in the book In the Midst of Angels, one of a few printed volumes of Pamela’s work.

Pamela Williams exhibits regularly at the Terrace Gallery and various outdoor art shows around Toronto, and also give digital photography classes, as well as slide show lectures about her work and travels. Drop by her website, get on her mailing list – and keep an eye out for her.

This is the final week of In the Midst of Angels – up in Sunderland Hall until April 21. Hours: Tues & Wed 5-9 p.m., Thurs 7-9 p.m., Sun 12-3 p.m. The show closes on Sunday with a Meet the Artist from 1:30-3:30 p.m.

If you miss this one, Pamela has another exhibition coming up at Yorkminster Park (1585 Yonge St. – north of St. Clair, at Heath, Toronto), from May 1-29 – opening on May 5 (12:30 – 2 p.m.). Hours: Mon – Fri: 10 – 2, Sat: 12-4 (Pamela will be there on Saturdays 2-4 p.m.).