Skip to content

Posts tagged ‘alex johnson’

Who’s Excited? I’m Excited. – The Tennessee Project Toronto

“I am so deeply impressed with the vision and originality of the Tennessee Project! It is everything that a holistic arts project should be: grounded in excellence, collaborative in nature and focused on community. Bravo. I can’t wait.”          

             -Albert Schultz, Artistic Director of Soulpepper

THE TENNESSEE WILLIAMS PROJECT

Featuring the talents of nine theatre companies in the largest co-production Toronto has seen in years, the Tennessee Project will hit Toronto in MAY 2012! For seven nights, seven productions of Tennessee Williams’ one-acts will rotate through seven different Toronto neighborhoods, bringing Tennessee right to the heart of Toronto in an energized, heartfelt celebration of community, culture, and good ol’ Tenn.

HOW DOES IT WORK?

On May 1st 2012 at eight p.m., productions of the Tennessee one-acts will open in Cabbagetown, Greektown, Roncesvalles, The Annex, The Beach, Leslieville, and St. Clair West. The productions will rotate to a different neighborhood each evening, giving each community seven different nights of Williams.

WHAT’S THE POINT?

The point is to reach directly out to Toronto communities, develop relationships with them, and offer them a personal, friendly, uncomplicated theatre-going experience. We at the Tennessee Project believe Toronto has en enormous appetite for art, and seek to make it accessible, amiable, and celebratory, bringing theatre about our communities directly to them; to decentralize theatre from the downtown core and celebrate Toronto’s many faces, colors, and textures through the work of Williams – a man who always defended and treasured people from every walk of life. To bring a spectacular, unforgettable seven nights to the city that we love!!

BEYOND THE STAGE:

An evening in the theatre, like any form of entertainment, stands to be enriched through knowledge, familiarity, and interaction. The Tennessee Project is founded on the principle that audience outreach is an exciting and integral part of modern theatre that creates a more intimate and thrilling experience for all involved. Over the next few months, members of the Tennessee team will be getting to know each community. We will be volunteering at – and engaging with – local businesses, holding FREE events, opening up our rehearsals, holding ‘bar banter’ nights and VIP launch events, staging readings at local libraries, and bumping in to you on the street!

The companies involved are: Birdtown and Swanville Theatre Company,  Red One Theatre Collective,  Red Light Theatre District, Afterglow Theatre company, Another Theatre Company,  Theatre Caravel, Written on Water Theatre,   Quixotic Arts Collective, and Black Tea Theatre.

http://www.tennesseeprojecttoronto.com/

http://www.indiegogo.com/The-Tennessee-Williams-Project

Leonard’s thoughts on Poetry. Our thoughts on Leonard.

By: Alex Johnson

When I first announced (rather anti-climactically) that I was going in to the arts, my dad printed off a copy of Leonard Cohen’s How to Speak Poetry, handed it to me, and said nothing. I read it. I had practically no idea what I was reading, but nevertheless understood it completely, thoroughly, profoundly.

Ever since then, I have tried to put this wonderful piece of writing into as may hands as would take it. I am forever curious as to how it moves others, and how it marries with artist’s approach (if at all).

I have invited three wonderful Toronto actors – from all stages of their careers – to offer me their thoughts on Leonard Cohen’s How to Speak Poetry (printed below). May I present…Katie Ribout, Ron Kennell, Maggie Blake, and Leonard Cohen.

LEONARD COHEN – HOW TO SPEAK POETRY

Take the word butterfly. To use this word it is not necessary to make the voice weigh less than an ounce or equip it with small dusty wings. It is not necessary to invent a sunny day or a field of daffodils. It is not necessary to be in love, or to be in love with butterflies. The word butterfly is not a real butterfly. There is the word and there is the butterfly. If you confuse these two items people have the right to laugh at you. Do not make so much of the word. Are you trying to suggest that you love butterflies more perfectly than anyone else, or really understand their nature? The word butterfly is merely data. It is not an opportunity for you to hover, soar, befriend flowers, symbolize beauty and frailty, or in any way impersonate a butterfly. Do not act out words. Never act out words. Never try to leave the floor when you talk about flying. Never close your eyes and jerk your head to one side when you talk about death. Do not fix your burning eyes on me when you speak about love. If you want to impress me when you speak about love put your hand in your pocket or under your dress and play with yourself. If ambition and the hunger for applause have driven you to speak about love you should learn how to do it without disgracing yourself or the material.

What is the expression which the age demands? The age demands no expression whatever. We have seen photographs of bereaved Asian mothers. We are not interested in the agony of your fumbled organs. There is nothing you can show on your face that can match the horror of this time. Do not even try. You will only hold yourself up to the scorn of those who have felt things deeply. We have seen newsreels of humans in the extremities of pain and dislocation. Everyone knows you are eating well and are even being paid to stand up there. You are playing to people who have experienced a catastrophe. This should make you very quiet.  Speak the words, convey the data, step aside. Everyone knows you are in pain. You cannot tell the audience everything you know about love in every line of love you speak. Step aside and they will know what you know because you know it already. You have nothing to teach them. You are not more beautiful than they are. You are not wiser. Do not shout at them. Do not force a dry entry. That is bad sex. If you show the lines of your genitals, then deliver what you promise. And remember that people do not really want an acrobat in bed. What is our need? To be close to the natural man, to be close to the natural woman. Do not pretend that you are a beloved singer with a vast loyal audience which has followed the ups and downs of your life to this very moment. The bombs, flame-throwers, and all the shit have destroyed more than just the trees and villages. They have also destroyed the stage. Did you think that your profession would escape the general destruction? There is no more stage. There are no more footlights. You are among the people. Then be modest. Speak the words, convey the data, step aside. Be by yourself. Be in your own room. Do not put yourself on.

This is an interior landscape. It is inside. It is private. Respect the privacy of the material. These pieces were written in silence. The courage of the play is to speak them. The discipline of the play is not to violate them. Let the audience feel your love of privacy even though there is no privacy. Be good whores. The poem is not a slogan. It cannot advertise you. It cannot promote your reputation for sensitivity. You are not a stud. You are not a killer lady. All this junk about the gangsters of love. You are students of discipline. Do not act out the words. The words die when you act them out, they wither, and we are left with nothing but your ambition.

Speak the words with the exact precision with which you would check out a laundry list. Do not become emotional about the lace blouse. Do not get a hard-on when you say panties. Do not get all shivery just because of the towel. The sheets should not provoke a dreamy expression about the eyes. There is no need to weep into the handkerchief. The socks are not there to remind you of strange and distant voyages. It is just your laundry. It is just your clothes. Don’t peep through them. Just wear them.

The poem is nothing but information. It is the Constitution of the inner country. If you declaim it and blow it up with noble intentions then you are no better than the politicians whom you despise. You are just someone waving a flag and making the cheapest kind of appeal to a kind of emotional patriotism. Think of the words as science, not as art. They are a report. You are speaking before a meeting of the Explorers’ Club of the National Geographic Society. These people know all the risks of mountain climbing. They honour you by taking this for granted. If you rub their faces in it that is an insult to their hospitality. Tell them about the height of the mountain, the equipment you used, be specific about the surfaces and the time it took to scale it. Do not work the audience for gasps and sighs. If you are worthy of gasps and sighs it will not be from your appreciation of the event but from theirs. It will be in the statistics and not the trembling of the voice or the cutting of the air with your hands. It will be in the data and the quiet organization of your presence.

Avoid the flourish. Do not be afraid to be weak. Do not be ashamed to be tired. You look good when you’re tired. You look like you could go on forever. Now come into my arms. You are the image of my beauty.

MAGGIE BLAKE 

These are the sentiments that stand out to me, which I believe, are a big part of his message. At first I thought it was going to be a long wanky rant, but turns out he’s against wankiness too! A man after my own heart! I really loved this, but I don’t think I could ever take it as an entire mantra to live by- either in life or in art. We can’t always forget that there’s a stage…in fact I think it’s important to remember that we need to put stories on for a reason….. and that indeed theatre is often a platform for us to observe ourselves- but to pretend that it is not a heightened reality? I think that does a disservice to the platform and the audience. We are not always nuanced. We cannot always not care about what we say.

Maggie Blake is an exciting young Canadian actress who got her start playing Anne in The Diary of Anne Frank at the Stratford Festival. Since then she has traveled the country and the world, training enthusiastically, obsessed with reading, and landing parts with many of Canada’s major theatre companies. If you ever hear Maggie’s name attached to anything…GO. She will charm the pants off you.

KATIE RIBOUT

What I feel he is saying is to Trust and K.I.S.S (Keep It Simple, Stupid). Two things which I strive for but have the hardest time doing.

Katie is a recent graduate of the University of Windsor’s BFA Acting Programme. Her performances have brought me to tears and laughter many times. She is now living in Toronto auditioning for anything and everything. Keep a look out for this one, and wish her luck. 

RON KENNELL

“You are playing to people who have experienced a catastrophe.” is something I carry with me all the time. This poem and the song If It Be Your Will have become a huge part of my life. I am ever mindful that I am privileged to tell the stories of others, this sentiment makes me bold and keeps me humble.

Ron Kennell is a veteran of Canadian theatre who has played everywhere from Stratford to Buddies in Bad Times. Toronto audiences will recognize him from The Tempest with Canadian Stage’s Dream in High Park, and his recent mind-blowing success, The Maids at Buddies. The first piece of advice I ever heard him give a young actor was: “Read. Everything. Out loud.”

NEW WRITERS!

All of us In the Greenroom want to send a welcome to our three lovely new writers, Ryan Quinn, Spencer Robson and Jeremy Beal! We are really looking forward to the pieces they have to offer us. Seriously, these guys are awesome writers. Stay tuned for more articles, reviews, videos and more! New bios coming soon.

And then he heard our call…

Only a week after launching the site and posting Alex Johnson’s eloquent letter to the playwright, Tom Walmsley got in touch with us! We were so thrilled to hear from him and we’re even happier to share his response.

Thank you Tom from all of us In the Greenroom.

Read Tom Walmsley’s response in Featured articles.

From one Alex to another – An interview with Alex McCooeye

By Alex “Addy” Johnson

MOST RECENTLY: Directed The Particulars and In General at Summerworks

AS AN ACTOR: The Little Prince (Geordie Productions); Beethoven Lives Upstairs (Centaur Theatre); 39 Steps (Theatre Aquarius); Harvey (Segal Centre); Nativity: A Coyote’s Christmas, Mother Courage, A Christmas Carol, The Ark 2007 (NAC); Rock, Paper, Jackknife (Centaur Theatre/Talisman); Rabbit Rabbit (Summerworks); Of Mice and Men (Montreal Theatre Ensemble). 

TRAINING: National Theatre School of Canada and the John Abbott College Professional Theatre Program.

NEXT: Starring in his own adaptation of Edgar Allen Poe’s The Pit and the Pendulum at the Wildside Festival in Montreal.

INTRO:

Alex McCooeye is a Montreal-bred actor, director, and playwright. If you haven’t heard of him yet, you probably will. He’s putting down roots in Toronto. Constantly challenging assumptions, he is one of the most grounded, imaginative, and insightful young theatre-makers I know.

A few weeks before going into rehearsals for his new adaptation of Edgar Allen Poe’s The Pit and the Pendulum, I (the assistant director of the piece, helping out the stupendous Greg Kramer) had the chance to Skype with Alex about what it means to be an actor-director-playwright, a breed that is becoming more and more necessary.

ADDY: So….how are you settling into the Toronto theatre scene?

ALEX: It’s such a huge community. There’s this core group, I find… And then outside of that there are hundreds of talented, talented people who struggle to get work in Toronto and [end up going] back to other cities all the time to do work. And it can be a really tough year the year after you’ve been in a company [the National Arts Centre]. I’m running into people and they’re saying, “So what are you doing at the NAC this year?” Well actually, you can hire me here.

ADDY: Do you remember that moment of choice we all have when we say, “that’s it, I’m going into the theatre?”

ALEX: I have to admit that I always wanted to be the centre of attention. Like I just loved being in front of people and only through theatre school did I develop a respect for theatre and understood the meaning of what theatre can be. But it was totally born out of wanting to be the center of attention. I can’t fake that that’s not true.

ADDY: Anything in particular that you still carry with you from your theatre school days?

ALEX: I think the main thing I developed…was a love and respect for text and language. And the importance of a respect for the playwright. I think there’s this weird thing going on where theatre is being confused as a director’s medium. And it’s not, in my opinion. The director’s job is to serve the play as it has been written for the performers on stage. And there’s this new thing going on with “my take, my vision of this play” that I really can’t stand.

ADDY: So what would you say is the director’s job, specifically?

ALEX: To ensure that the actors are serving the play while empowering the actors to own their performances. It’s to not get in the way, to let the work happen. To me…eighty percent of directing is casting. So as long as you have actors that you trust, that you think are right in the roles, then eighty percent of your work is done.

ADDY: And how did you venture into playwriting?

ALEX: I’ve always kind of jotted stuff down, jotted down ideas for plays and things. [During theatre school] a friend of mine and I adapted The Tempest and Waiting for Godot into one [single play]. Pazzo was ritualistically playing all the characters in The Tempest forever until he died in a campaign to keep theatre alive. We were going to peform it in this abandoned theatre in Montreal but were kicked out and moved into a real theatre…because of fire regulations.

ADDY: And years later, you’ve adapted Poe’s The Pit and the Pendulum into a two-hander. Why Poe?

ALEX: I have loved Poe and this story since I was seventeen – just as I was getting into theatre and language and Shakespeare. I was looking for another way to do Shakespeare, for another author who is like him but not as celebrated. I still think that Poe is on par with Shakespeare, but didn’t write plays and didn’t write about love.

ADDY: And why The Pit and the Pendulum in particular?

ALEX: He wrote it while he was mourning the loss of his sister. You wouldn’t know reading it that it’s a reaction to mourning, but obviously while he was dealing with internal torture he decided to write a story about external torture. I love how he deals with the monotony and the banal aspects of the human mind faced with dire circumstances. Like when he’s musing over the size of his prison cell. Because it’s so true.

Alex (left) in Of Mice and Men, Montreal Theatre Ensemble

ADDY: Why did you choose not to direct it?

ALEX: I am of the opinion that a playwright, for the most part, should not direct their own work…they need an outside eye to come in and take what they’ve written and realize it. I’ve also written the part for myself so….to write, direct, and act for me right now is unrealistic.

ADDY: Do you find yourself directing as you are writing?

ALEX: I am definitely acting it as I write it. I’m in my living room doing all the voices and practicing the dialogue and all of that. For me it’s the only way to write. It’s the only way to get the rhythms and the relationships. It’s my entry point. Why not use the experience I have as an actor?

ADDY: How much does your work as an actor and director inform your work as a writer?

ALEX: I think a great deal. I would love someone else to approach me with this play and say, “would you act in it?” But because it’s my idea, I have to write it. [Writing is] my least favourite of the three. I much prefer acting and directing. I’m just using it as a tool to say what I want to say and do the theatre I want to do. But it’s torturous, I find, to write. It’s incredible for me to see all these writer-performers out there, because one job requires such a specific set of skills and a specific personality type that completely contrasts the other job. So it’s kind of incredible. Sometimes it’s great and sometimes it’s an exercise in self-loathing.

ADDY: Do you find it tricky to compartmentalize and separate the stresses of the day from your writing? Or conversely, is it important to let your day influence your work?

ALEX: In this instance when I’m working with a story that already exists, I cant bring a lot of what I’m going through to it. And it’s hard. Was it Chekhov that said, “No writer can work if they’re poor”? It’s tough to go out and do other things and make money and come back and write. I think I’m pretty unsuccessful at compartmentalizing. But once I’m an hour into writing, I’m with it. I’m not thinking about other things.

ADDY: Would you say your work has an aesthetic?

ALEX: The biggest compliment I ever got was when someone said, “every time I see you perform, it feels like you’re in a conversation with the theatre.” Whether that’s true or not, I think that’s something to strive towards. What is this, what does it mean, what can it be, can I do this and get away with it? 

The Pit and the Pendulum will premier at the Wildside Festival in Montreal, January 2012.