SummerWorks: Reaching back through time & memory in search of home in the endearing, poignant hiraeth

Mandy E. MacLean. Lighting design by Logan Raju Cracknell. Photo by Matt Carter.

 

The hiraeth collective’s hiraeth, created and performed by Mandy E. MacLean, and directed for this SummerWorks production by Leah Holder, takes the audience on an intimate solo show personal history tour of teenage memories, with a longing for identity and a sense of belonging at the heart of the storytelling. Nostalgic, wistful and endearing in its humour and poignancy, it’s a reminder that you can’t really go home again, but you can visit for a brief time and maybe even take away something new. hiraeth opened at the Media Arts Centre in the Gamma Gallery yesterday afternoon.

MacLean joins the audience in the round, bursting with nervous energy and apology. A soldier’s kid who grew up in a Canadian Forces PMQ (Private Military/Married Quarters), as an adult, she searches through the dark of the basement, shouting to her mother upstairs as she rummages through storage containers to find her packed away stuff in a garbage bag. This personal archeological dig through the past reveals cassette tapes of teen journaling and music favourites—taking her back to a younger self who overheard parental arguments and feared for her father’s safety.

An awkward, bespectacled middle schooler nicknamed “Dung Beetle” by a mean girl classmate, and experiencing those awkward, wonderful first crush feels for a boy named Michael, she’s also navigating the excitement and concerns about the upcoming Y2K New Year and the big changes she anticipates it will bring. A flashlight becomes a male friend—not her boyfriend—and her other hand, wearing her glasses, becomes herself as she re-enacts a first kiss and later dancing at the New Year’s Eve party. Her heart set on the ever-evasive Michael, that first kiss was merely a practice run for him, and she’s painfully aware and wary of advancing her already precarious social standing by any assumptions that she was with a “loser”.

It’s an intimate, immersive experience—where the audience becomes her confidantes, fellow party goers and even her mother—as MacLean includes and addresses us directly while mapping out the scary, awkward, confusing and marvelous moments from her life as a teen; in search of home and identity, and mourning what was and what could have been, in an endearingly funny, vulnerable and poignant performance.

“Hiraeth” is a Welsh term for a feeling of homesickness for a home you can’t go back to—or maybe never even existed. Part nostalgia, part grief experience, part interior journey, hiraeth lives up to its name. You can’t go home again—and the trip you take through memory and personal artifacts maybe only highlight what you took with you. But maybe the attempt can unearth something new.

hiraeth continues in the Toronto Media Arts Centre Gamma Gallery (second floor, hang a hard right when you get to the top of the stairs) until August 17; check the show page for exact dates/times. Tickets available online or in person at the box office; seating is limited, so consider booking ahead.

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Toronto Fringe: Twelfth Night from Malvolio’s perspective in the riveting, visceral and cerebral I, Malvolio

Justin Otto. Photo by John Gundy.

 

impel theatre gives us Malvolio’s perspective of the events from Shakespeare’s comedy Twelfth Night in Tim Crouch’s riveting, visceral, cerebral I, Malvolio, directed by Kendra Jones, assisted by clown consultant Calvin Peterson. I, Malvolio had its closing performance at the Smart Cookie Club at Artscape Youngplace last night.

As we prepare to enter the theatre, we’re given a Student Theatre Evaluation Form, with five questions about the presentation we’re about to see; here, we are middle school students and a guest speaker will be joining us. The chairs within room 109 are both child- and adult-sized; and we can also choose to sit on a cushion on the floor; we are invited to make ourselves comfortable, and participate—and even leave—as we like.

Dressed in yellow socks, black shorts and a worn t-shirt with yellow suspenders, and sporting clown makeup, Malvolio (Justin Otto) sits on the floor, reading a love letter—purportedly from his mistress Olivia, but actually a practical joke instigated by her uncle Sir Toby Belch, with the help of conspirators within the household. He maintains throughout that he is not mad, but does he protest too much? Turning his attention to us, like an overly strict substitute teacher, he snaps at us to correct our posture and turns accuser, and making us complicit in the practical joke that went too far against him. If we’re going to behave like children, we’re going to be treated like children. And he will have his revenge upon us all.

He takes us through the story we know from Twelfth Night from his point of view. How he takes his job as Olivia’s Steward very seriously; his hawk-eyed attention ever set on keeping order, cleanliness and decorum within the household. How his uncharacteristic behaviour was inspired by a love letter he thought was written in earnest; and how he was locked up in the dark and filth as a madman—only to be released to learn it was all a joke, and his beloved mistress has married a man she’s known for less than a day! And what about the crazy goings-on of the others? Viola dressing as a man. The love triangle between Olivia, Viola and Orsino. And Viola’s twin Sebastian agreeing to marry Olivia after knowing her less than a day!

Otto is a compelling presence, giving a performance that is grounded in his body, both visceral and cerebral as he lays out Malvolio’s arguments. Playing Devil’s advocate as he sets out this other perspective of the story, he forces us to examine our responses to mean-spirited practical jokes and bullying, as Malvolio rages on, reliving the pain, trauma and humiliation of what was done to him. And considers what form his revenge will take as he draws willing audience members into his plan of action. Malvolio isn’t mad—but he is broken and struggling to regain his sense of identity and equilibrium.

Sure, Malvolio is an overly proud, self-righteous, humourless, insipid man. He also has a fastidious attention to detail, order and management, making him excellent at his job. And he didn’t deserve to be treated so.

Keep your eyes peeled for future impel theatre productions.

Toronto Fringe: Storytelling meets TED Talk in the fight for social justice in the sharply funny, frank, eye-opening Monica vs. the Internet  

Monica Ogden. Photo by Sortome Photography.

 

Rage Sweater Productions presents Monica Ogden’s sharply funny, frank, eye-opening Monica vs. the Internet: Tales of a Social Justice Warrior, directed by KP Productions and running in the Tarragon Theatre Solo Room. Storytelling meets TED Talk as shared lived experience and knowledge come together for this look at activism in the digital world, as Ogden addresses mixed-race identity, racism and white supremacy/feminism.

A self-described light-skinned, cis gender Filipina woman coming to terms with a family history that includes both colonizer and colonized, Monica Ogden navigates both the privilege and the oppression she experiences every day. Her multi-generational lived experience of racism (including accusations of not being “Asian enough” to mention it), disability, mental health issues and abuse informed her path from student at a racist theatre school to YouTube series host on Fistful of Feminism and social justice warrior.

Part personal history tour, part TED Talk, the multimedia solo show incorporates projected images—from sweet, sometimes funny, family and personal photos to shocking, racist tweets from trolls—as Ogden shares personal and family history and lived experience, both good and bad. The inspiration and love she receives from her mother and grandmother, whose shoulders she stands on; and the in-person and cyber bullying from Twitter trolls, and even a theatre reviewer at a Fringe festival, about her race (sometimes perceived/misread) and appearance. And she schools many of us, with patience, good humour and frankness, on the myriad ways that POC deal with everyday racism—left out of spaces and conversations, and denied respect and justice.

Ogden is a delightful powerhouse of a storyteller and social justice activist; candid in her sharing of her life and knowledge—despite her daily personal challenges (she also lives with physical disability and mental health issues), despite the racist blow-back, and despite the soul-crushing ‘meh’ response from organizations who don’t think they need her consultation, or do need it but ignore it. But don’t call her “brave”. Firmly, but gently, she calls on the white folks in the audience to examine their responses to white-dominated spaces, places and ideas. How true social justice includes considerations of intersectionality—and we need to be mindful and respond accordingly.

Just because we’re used to situations in which white supremacy is the default—in our government institutions, everyday social lives and even our arts institutions—doesn’t mean it’s a good thing or the right thing. Everyone deserves respect. Everyone deserves to be heard. And everyone deserves a safe space to grow, learn, live and be themselves in the world.

Monica vs. the Internet: Tales of a Social Justice Warrior continues in the Tarragon Theatre Solo Room until July 13; check the show page for exact dates/times and advance tickets.

Toronto Fringe: Getting in & out of Scientology in the hilarious, heartbreaking, irreverent Squeeze My Cans

Cathy Schenkelberg. Sound & production design by Victoria (Toy) Deiorio. Photo by Michael C. Daft.

 

Squeeze My Cans presents Squeeze My Cans, the true story of Cathy Schenkelberg’s indoctrination into and exit from Scientology—a multimedia solo show trip that is by turns hilarious, heartbreaking, irreverent, infuriating and terrifying. Written and performed by Schenkelberg, and directed by Shirley Anderson, the show previewed at the St. Vladimir Institute last night and opens tonight.

When Nebraska-born, Chicago/LA-based actor, singer, voice-over artist Cathy Schenkelberg got on board the Scientology ship, she did—as many do—with the aim of self-improvement and spiritual awakening, to balance her life and career. Heart and mind open to a world of wonderful possibilities as she takes us with her on this journey, her eyes become open to the darker side of the organization and its negative impact on her life and relationships. Enthusiastic engagement turns to desperate anxiety as she undergoes audit after audit and takes course after course—even after she gets certified as “clear”. Spending hundreds of thousands of dollars, maxing out credit card after credit card; the constant criticism and monitoring—all under the guise of helping her achieve the next level of clarity and advanced state of being—send her into a spiral of emotional and financial ruin.

Discouraged, dismayed and angered by the hypocrisy of the organization—a hierarchy that favours celebrities, practises victim shaming and psychological manipulation— and heartbroken and ashamed of her detachment from her life and loved ones, participation turns to exit strategy as she makes a quiet exit.

Schenkelberg gives a brave, edgy and entertaining performance; touching hearts, minds and funny bones as she takes us on this deeply personal, harrowing and emotional ride. A compelling and engaging storyteller, the cast of characters she conjures makes for an excellent showcase for her kick-ass voice-over chops. The performance is adeptly complemented by Victoria (Toy) Deiorio’s projection design. And the “cans” in the title take on a double meaning: the portion of the E-meter that audit subjects squeeze as they respond to questions put to them by the auditor—the ultimate goal of the test is to make the needle on the meter “float”. And, as the show poster (design by Brett Newton Design Inc.) suggests—alien hands squeezing a woman’s breasts—there’s a titillating “fuck you” aspect as well; pushing back against the #MeToo element of assault by an entity that feels superior to the subject and entitled to take what it wants.

Scientology may have taken her money and a piece of her life, but it didn’t take Schenkelberg’s spirit. Her love of her daughter and parents, especially her father, bolstered her courage and resolve to get out and take her life back.

Squeeze My Cans continues at St. Vladimir Institute until July 13; check the show page for exact dates/times and advance tickets.

Keep an eye out for Squeeze My Cabaret, a musical cabaret version of Squeeze My Cans.

Toronto Fringe: Reaching back & out to overcome loneliness in the entertaining, heart-wrenching The Big House

Tracey Erin Smith. Set and lighting design by Steve Lucas. Photo by Dahlia Katz.

 

There’s nothing like a family dinner to bring out the best and the worst in us; and maybe even an insight or two on the nature of loneliness. SOULO Theatre founder/A.D. Tracey Erin Smith takes us on her deepest, most personal storytelling journey yet in the entertaining, heart-wrenching The Big House, directed by and co-created with Sarah Garton Stanley; running in the Factory Theatre Mainspace.

Set during a Passover Seder, Smith has invited her family to her small apartment as she  seeks a way to overcome loneliness during the holiday. A fraught family history and long-held resentments burst out around the dinner table. And then, branching out from this gathering, memories from childhood and the recent past: her father’s incarceration when she was seven, and a unique volunteer experience at California’s Kern Valley maximum security men’s prison in 2018, where she provided feedback on inmates’ ideas for starting up their own business after they get out. Beyond being a common colloquialism for jail, “big house” is also the large Forest Hill home her mother was forced to downsize from with two small children after Smith’s father went to jail. Forced confinement and forced exodus—both huge, life-changing events.

Believing that everyone has a story to tell and making a safe space for that to happen, Smith walks the talk as she dives deep into the messy, wonderful place that is the human soul to discover what hidden gems of wisdom she may find there. Smart, funny and insightful as she shifts from character to character, her performance is vulnerable, edgy and full of chutzpah—delivered with heart, charisma and even a song or two as she takes us along to witness these unfolding moments along the road to realization and release. A gentle storyteller even at the roughest of times, Smith takes us by the hand even as she takes her seven-year-old self by the hand.

While it’s possible to find contentment in being alone, there’s also the hesitant outreach of loneliness in a crowd. We need to be able to tell the difference. And common ground and genuine connection—as well as love and forgiveness—can be found in unexpected places. We just need to be brave enough to go there.

The Big House continues in the Factory Theatre Mainspace until July 14; check out the show page for exact dates/times and advance tickets. Advance booking strongly recommended; Smith is a popular performer—and the house was packed at last night’s opening.

In the meantime, give a listen to this Classical FM 96.3 interview with Smith on Oasis, hosted by Mark Wigmore.

Toronto Fringe: Heaven calling in the sharply funny, fiercely candid The Commandment

Phil Rickaby. Photo by Phil Rickaby.

 

Have you heard the one about God and the atheist? Simple Truth Theatre present this unlikely match in its sharply funny, fiercely candid Toronto Fringe production of The Commandment; written and performed by Phil Rickaby, directed by Richard Beaune, assisted by Adrianna Prosser, and running in the Tarragon Theatre Extraspace.

Compelled to speak, with an important message to deliver, Thomas (Rickaby) crashes an open mic night. He’s been called upon by God to deliver a new commandment. Thing is, Thomas is a mildly misanthropic atheist whose already shattered life becomes even more so as a result of this heavenly contact. A reluctant prophet hell-bent on sticking it to the Almighty, he finds himself having to come up with non-stop chatter in order to avoid blurting out God’s message.

Part rant, part confession, part personal storytelling, The Commandment is irreverent and intensely candid, with a comic edge; and there’s a lovely balance of vulnerability, rage and tenderness in Rickaby’s performance.

Bad things happen to good people and good things happen to bad people—and it’s hard to keep the faith when your world has fallen completely apart. So what’s the new commandment? You’ll have to go see for yourself. It just might do your soul some good.

The Commandment continues in the Tarragon Theatre Extraspace until July 14; check the show page for exact dates/times and advance tickets.

Ancestors calling on a hero’s journey through fear to true self in the engaging, powerful 11:11

Samson Bonkeabantu Brown. Set design by d’bi.young anitafrika. Costume design by Samson Bonkeabantu Brown. Lighting design by André du Toit. Photo by Brett Haynes.

 

A.V.O. Collective brings the world premiere of its engaging, powerful production of 11:11, presented as part of Why Not Theatre’s RISER Project 2019, to the Theatre Centre’s Incubator stage. Written/performed by trans-identified artist Samson Bonkeabantu Brown and dramaturged/directed by d’bi.young anitafrika, 11:11 is a bio-mythical monodrama journey, stretching across time, space, and the realms of life and afterlife, as our hero connects with his Portuguese and South African ancestors, and moves through fear to become the man he was meant to be.

In a one-person show that encompasses both broad and immediate personal history, Brown draws out his tale as he gradually constructs a pattern on the floor with white stones. Incorporating storytelling, history, movement, ritual, language and music, he shape shifts in and out of a cast of characters that include the precocious, curious seven-year-old girl he once was and the joyful, prophesying, matter-of-fact South African ancestor he’s about to meet.

Becoming a bridge between past and present, female and male, he connects with the spirit world through dreams and visions—and gradually the messages become clear as the little girl who experiences strange dreams and headaches, and is shunned in the schoolyard, grows up and comes to learn that there’s nothing medically wrong with her. She is a receiver, a prophecy made flesh, a shape shifter.

In a world where white men divided up a continent they claimed as their own, and forced their alphabet onto environment-based African dialects—and, later, Western medicine onto African descendants—how does our hero reconcile his connections to both the colonized and the colonizer? And, through the pain of the struggle for true identity, and the ancestral pain of apartheid and displacement, he comes to realize the complex—and even contradictory—aspects of identity and experience that have combined to create him.

1111 by Samson Bonkeabantu Brown (featuring Samson Bonkeabantu Brown) photo by Brett Haynes #2
Samson Bonkeabantu Brown. Set design by d’bi.young anitafrika. Costume design by Samson Bonkeabantu Brown. Lighting design by André du Toit. Photo by Brett Haynes.

Brown, who recently wrote for/performed in the RARE Theatre/Soulpepper production Welcome to my Underworld, is a compelling and entertaining storyteller. Engaging, bold, unashamed and vulnerable, he invites us along on his journey—part autobiography, part personal mythology, part history lesson, part supernatural revelation—as he connects with his roots and finds his true rhythm. From the child-like playfulness of a little girl to the wry-witted wisdom of an elder, the fear, confusion, joy and humour Brown expresses throughout resonate in a deeply profound, intimate way. And I know I wasn’t the only one in tears at the end.

11:11 continues in the Incubator at the Theatre Centre until June 1, with performances on:

Tuesday, May 28 – 6:00PM
Wednesday, May 29 – 9:00PM
Thursday, May 30 – 6:00PM
Friday, May 31 – 9:00PM
Saturday, June 1 – 6:00PM

Tickets available online, in person at the box office, or by calling 416-538-0988.