Ignorance is Bliss

Obviously, I cannot help but have that saying in my head when thinking about Ignorance, the latest creation from The Old Trout Puppet Workshop. The Old Trouts premiered Ignorance at the newly renovated Vancouver East Cultural Centre in March 2012, and we’re currently the second stop on their brand new tour.

We were fortunate to see an early workshop version of Ignorance at the Banff Centre for the Arts in December 2011. Since then, there have been many changes, cuts and additions – but I’m pleased to say that the premise has remained strongly intact. It’s a premise that I love: Is our life purpose to pursue happiness? Or is it that pursuit which makes us so darn unhappy?

 

The Trouts ask us – Is happiness the point? Perhaps happiness is fleeting and perhaps it’s our own unhappiness that actually motivates us to change.

When I was thinking about all this, I decided to turn it around and ask – “Does bliss produce ignorance?” And, in my opinion, the answer is no. And I believe that bliss doesn’t have to come from ignorance either. I think you can face those unpleasant, uncomfortable things and from that can come great understanding – of yourself, your life and the world around you. And from great understanding can come great bliss.

When I experience The Old Trouts’ work, I am always amazed at their ability to produce extreme beauty and incredibly beautiful moments and then swiftly follow that with the destruction of the moment or even the entire character.

It’s those fleeting moments of stunning beauty that stay with me for weeks on end, helping me look at the world around me with fresh eyes. Because of that, I really do feel a change in how I see the world – more receptive... engaged... aware...

Perhaps even... blissfully aware.

Bradley

The Pleasure is All Mine

The Magic Chair

Some thoughts as we prepare to open.

Working with Chris Craddock on his play Moving Along (version 3.7) over the last few weeks has been, as they say in French, mon plaisir. And I mean that. It truly has been my pleasure.

Chris is a hard working artist with a gift for always being quick to say “let me jump back in and try it again.” And he does. Try it, try it again, try it differently – many times – is what we all do a lot of. Test it. Change it. Test it again. I am amazed and constantly reminded that it’s through the act of repetition (and more repetition) that we are lead to the most profound discoveries, along with the (sometimes difficult) realizations about what is not truly needed. It’s then that we (the creative team of Chris, Dave Clarke, Paul Bezaire and myself) begin to develop a collective vision: we see, hear and sense where the heart of the story lies, where it flows, where we all truly believe that it’s working the best moment-to-moment. It’s a lot of fun working on plays with these artists.

We challenge each other. We argue. We hug it out. We laugh. And we even get teary in the rehearsal hall. Yeah, true story. And all of those vitally important things that so often go unsaid manage to get said by at least one of us (even when it’s not a particularly good time). They have to be said. It’s the only way for the show to truly meet its potential; the only way that the truth of the theatrical experience can be fully revealed to the audience. And this ain’t easy. (Even with artists who are like family.) But it’s necessary, vital even. It’s a challenge that is always in front of artists: to be honest about ourselves, and our work, even when it’s painful. To be brave, face our fears – and our lies – in the rehearsal hall in order to create a truthful, honest production.

That kind of raw honesty is hard work. But it’s rewarding as hell. And it can’t be avoided – when you’re working with someone like Chris Craddock, on a play as honest as Moving Along, you better be ready to face the truth everyday.

Yesterday, Dave Clarke called our process over the last few weeks an “organic working experience.” That got me thinking. If you add up all the ingredients that I’ve discussed above, then maybe, just maybe, we have a pretty decent recipe for making theatre come alive.

You Just Never Know

Venue Manager Jessica Peverett

In case you missed it, we are very happy to announce Jessica Peverett as our brand new Venue Manager. While it’s true that Jessica has been with us for a few years, we still want to welcome her to her new position and wish her all the best.

For the past two seasons, Jessica has not only played a major role as part of our box office and front of house team, but she has also worked tirelessly on our annual subscription campaign during the summer. In her new role, she will manage all of the box office, front of house and volunteers.

Having recently received her Graduate Degree in Drama from the University of Alberta, Jessica is also known to Edmonton audiences as a playwright and performer. In addition, she has worked as a Dramaturg, Stage Manager, Director and Arts-Administrator. Because Jessica has done so many jobs in the world of theatre, she adds a wealth of knowledge and experience to our organization. Her passion for the arts is not only a bonus for us but for our audiences that greet her on the way into our shows.

What is super exciting to me is that Jessica began her relationship with us as a volunteer. Thus the above title “You Just Never Know”. To me that works both ways: when Jessica signed up to usher, she had no idea where that first step would lead. Neither did we. I find it fascinating how unexpected life can be; how it never stands still. We see it a lot around here – a volunteer today is tomorrow’s manager or playwright or designer. Nextfest teaches us that again and again. One small attempt at something new – in this case, volunteering with a new organization – can suddenly lead you down paths and around corners that you never expected. I am constantly surprised and moved by it all.

So Jessica – I am extremely grateful that you took that first step and volunteered with us all those years ago. I look forward to the next part of your journey!