Skip to content

Posts tagged ‘Alex McCooeye’

A Chat with Alex Johnson. The Playwright Project A Year Later: Sam Shepard May 1-7th

by Ryan Quinn

Q: Here with the brilliant Alex Johnson. The Playwright Project kicked off last night to a great start. Tell me a little bit about what you’re doing with the project this year.

A: It’s the exact same format as last year with a different playwright and several different venues. We wanted to rebrand as The Playwright Project and move away from being a Tennessee Williams festival. We never had any interest in being a Tennessee Williams festival; it’s more the format, the community-mindedness, and the artistic collaboration that we were interested in. So, we rebranded as The Playwright Project and went with Sam Shepard for a number of reasons. I guess the first and most important one was that we’re all absolutely in love with him. He’s exciting, he’s a little filthy, you know, “the sacred and the profane”. There’s great music in his plays, huge amounts of live music, that awesome, bluesy, folksy stuff. There’s all that sweaty, New-York-in-the-60’s experimental theatre, but there’s also some really down-to-Earth and conventional work. So, there’s a huge variety. Also, they’re plays our generation can really sink their teeth into. They’re restless and young and urban. So, it seemed like a good fit for the people we were working with.

Q: And who are you working with this year?

A: So, we’ve got Heart in Hand Productions, who actually just did a Sam Shepard play. They did Cowboy Mouth at the Cameron House, which is also a venue that we are working in this year. Those girls are great and they were very keen to re-enter the world of Shepard and investigate a different play with us. They’re also this great team of babes doing a really masculine Shepard play, so I’m really excited about that. They’re doing Fool for Love. Peter Pasyk from Surface/Underground will be joining us, doing When the World Was Green. He was just chosen to be the 2013/14 Urjo Kareda Resident at Tarragon Theatre, so that’s amazing. Theatre Brouhaha and Red One Theatre Collective are both back on the project; they were with us last year as well. We’ll actually be working in Red One’s new venue, The Storefront Theatre, which those boys are also running. We’ve also got Alec Toller, who is more known for being a filmmaker. He’s got a film coming out called Play, that Kelly McCormack was in, and it’s about theatre. He’s doing Angel City which is very cool because it’s really film noir and cinematic, so I’m really curious to see how this filmmaker meets this live filmic piece. Natasha Greenblatt and Pomme Grenade Productions, who just did The Peacemaker at Next Stage, which was a huge hit. She will actually be doing Cowboy Mouth. Lastly, and this is really exciting, Alex McCooeye has adapted a Sam Shepard short story called Saving Fats into a play. Alex and I actually worked on his adaptation of a Poe short story about a year ago with the incredible Greg Kramer who sadly passed away a couple weeks ago. Alex is a really great writer with an amazing eye for adaptation, so I’m really excited he’s taking this adventure on. Jeremiah Sparks is in it, so, yeah, it’s going to be great.

Q: Are you doing it in the same venues as last year?

A: Yeah, so we are back in the Curzon in Leslieville. I was in there the other day and since we were in there last year, it’s been revamped into this amazingly Sam Shepard-like space. It’s the coolest. There are these white embossed animal heads on the walls, and it’s all…country. It’s so cool. It’s so cool. I walked in and I was just like “Why? This is so perfect. This is touched by God”. We’re also back in the Magic Oven. The interesting thing about that space is that once the Project is done for this year (although we’re already vamping up for next year), I’m partnering up with Tony at the Magic Oven to turn that downstairs space into an actual year-round, multi-disciplinary performance space. Tony has built a full kitchen and bar in the back, so it’s going to be fully operational by the fall. I will be managing and programming everything in that space. I mean, there’s not a lot like that out there on the Danforth. You have the Fraser Rehearsal Studios, the Danforth Music Hall, you’ve got the Red Sandcastle, but it’s significantly more south. We’re really going to try to engage with the Danforth community and be a new place where culture can happen. It’s really exciting. We have not confirmed a name for the space yet. We jokingly call it The Tragic Oven.

Q: That sounds horrible, haha. That’s a horrible name.

A: I know! We’re just going to program Greek tragedies. So, yeah, we’re back there. I think everything else is new. We’re at the Storefront; we’re at the Cameron House…oh! The Cameron House is partnering with us this year to be the post-show hub every night. So at the Cameron House every night at 10pm, Cameron House records and our director of music Gaby Grice have co-curated a whole line-up of Shepard-y music in that bluesy, folksy, rock and roll cowboy vein. So, every night at 10pm, a whole different lineup of Shepard-y music at the Cameron House. So, that’s going to be a blast. We’re also in some other great spaces, the May Café in Little Portugal, Lazy Daisy’s in The Beach, Annette Studios in The Junction. I’m really excited about the venues.

Q: Now, sometimes you call it a project, and sometimes a festival. It also kind of seems to walk a line close to being a repertory season. Where is that line?

A: It’s so funny that you bring that up. We were just talking about this last night, actually, that the language that we use needs to be paid close attention to because the end result is festival-like but the process is not. The process is much more collaborative and about the seven companies as well as the administrative body supporting each other as opposed to them working independently of us until show time like you would for Fringe or Summerworks. So, the process is much more, as our initial vision from last year stated, about creating a tighter-knit community of artists who work toward one communal goal together. In that regard, I don’t think you could call us a festival.
I like what you said about thinking of it almost as a repertory season. It’s like a really fast, really intense repertory season that goes down. If I can find a more succinct way of phrasing that, I might steal it from you for next year. I actively avoided calling it a festival last year, but the language sort of just became easier to use. People understood more what the end result was, what May 1-7 would be. But, yeah, I think I want to go back next year, for 2014, and re-examine what we call ourselves.

Q: Do you feel like the community has gotten more tight-knit since the festival last year?

A: Yeah, I mean, I don’t think we’ve changed the theatre scene. I think what Playwright Project has served to do is broaden many of our artists’ connections and resources. They now know, in some cases, almost a hundred new people that they can access in the community and that they can share with. The thing is, though, everybody works differently. Everyone has their own process. Some are more about reaching out and bringing people into the fold, and some people are much more isolated. One is not better than the other. Some people work better in isolated think-tanks, and some work better with an “it takes a village” mentality. So, I wouldn’t qualify the festival as being some giant community. What I know it is, is an opportunity to access things that you wouldn’t be able to access otherwise. And you’ve got a really strong support system under you. So, like, the Playwright Project team and I are here to handle the things that could take away from your artistic focus and clarity of vision. We are here to enable you to do what you want to do.
But, in the bigger picture of things, is the Toronto community getting tighter? Yeah. I think it is. I think I see things changing and I see the grassroots stuff growing and I see people reaching out more.

Q: What have you learned since last year that’s been implemented this year?

A: It’s so funny. We were talking last night about how at the end of last year we went “Oh alright, we know what to do now. We know now. We get it now. We got it”. And now it’s coming up to the end of the rehearsal period and I’m like “Oh wait. I still don’t know anything”. What have I learned? I’ve learned so much. I’ve learned that people want to help. People want you to call them up and present them with an idea and a way they can get involved. I’ve also learned a lot of practical things. I’ve learned how to rent a van and how to hang a piece of black fabric. I’ve learned a lot about Equity and the new agreement and the festival waiver.
I have learned that it is very important, whether you’re an arts institution, or an organization, or a collective, or an individual artist, every project and every endeavour needs to have a personality. It needs to know what it is and have a clarity of what it’s doing. When our logo started going into development and our amazing graphic designer Lisanne Binhammer was sending us sheets of proposals, picking it was remarkably hard because we didn’t yet have that seed of exactly as an organization, what our personality was. As the logos started to come in, I started to see it. Started to visually see what we look like on paper, and it helped us to better understand what we are. We’re this scrappy, spirited group of young people, and trying to fight it and become something more polished is not helpful. I was at the Shakespeare in the Ruff gala and they know so well who they are as an organization. They have such a specific sense of humour and how they put themselves out into the world is so clear. I’m becoming more and more aware of how important that is. I mean, I guess, in simple words: branding. The importance of branding. You can’t engage people if you don’t know who you are. You can’t get them on your team if you don’t know who that team is.

Q: Looking into the future, in five years, where would you like to see the project?

A: There are a lot of internal things I would like to see change. Just in terms of, you know, office space. Things that would make the daily practical work easier. I think much of our personality is that every year, we’re going to be different. Last year was Tennessee Williams, and this year is Sam Shepard and there are cowboy hats everywhere and the music at the Cameron House. If it’s Ibsen (and it won’t be, but hypothetically), if it’s Ibsen, the personality of that week in May will be entirely different. Instead of having music at the Cameron House, we might have…sad Norwegian poetry nights. Every year there will be a different flavour to what we do.

Q: An atmosphere?

A: An atmosphere, yeah! And secondary programming will arise from that, and different people we can work with will arise from that. Different things these neighbourhoods can engage with and see that they wouldn’t normally. I want to be surprising people five years down the road with what we do. I don’t want to sit still too long. As I said, we’re already in talks for next year, and it will be surprising. I can tell you right now, the format will not be changing, but some things will be and it’ll surprise you. You’ll like it.

The Playwright Project: Sam Shepard runs May 1st-7th
For show listings check out our complete Toronto Theatre Listings page.
For exact venue schedule and ticket purchase go to The Playwright Project’s website!

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.


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.