"Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing."
- William Shakespeare, Macbeth
It’s a busy, busy time, y’all.
About a month or so ago – maybe longer now (what is time?) – I auditioned for the Cambrian Players, an incredible local organization dedicated to “theatre for the love of it!” right here in ye ol’ Bay of Thunder.
Since I’d worked with Cambrian Players on The Snow Queen last year, my appetite for everything theatrical had grown insatiable.
And, on that note, The Snow Queen is an experience I’ll never forget.
From our director, Jessica, who I’d had the wonderful opportunity to work with and learn from before, to all of the new faces I grew familiar and comfortable with – it was a remarkable team effort.
The result was a magical show, every bit infused with heart, humour, and delightful dollops of eccentricity.
Anywho, based on all you’ve just read and more, I was determined to participate in Cambrian’s new season – their 75th to be exact – in any way that I could, whether that be as an actor onstage or someone volunteering behind the scenes.
I mean, c’mon, people – the magic!!!
Now, I say ‘magic’ what do I really mean?
Am I talking about the set design? The actors chosen? The directors? Production teams?
How about… all of the above, plus the board of directors and a partridge in a pear tree!
It’s true, Cambrian has made my return to the world of theatre so intoxicating because of the welcoming and nurturing environment they foster.
Not only that, but there is such respect and care among cast and crew that you really do feel like you’ve joined a big family!
No, not in that way your boss sits you down at the start of a new job and tells you everyone at the company is “like a family,” then promptly (and “unrelatedly”) tells you everyone tries not to take sick time because working through a bad cold is what’s good “for the family.”
No, what I’m actually talking about is honest-to-goodness hanging out and singing karaoke until 2am kind of family; bringing treats to rehearsals and show nights for all to enjoy simply because you love to share and see your castmates smile; constantly finding yourself holding in laughter so as not to interrupt a rehearsal but dang it what someone just said to me was too funny and now we’re all laughing… that kind of family.
Anyway, you can probably see why the decision to take on not one but two plays this Fall was an easy one for me.
The first – which ran for just one very special evening in September – was a little ditty called, Endgame, written by Samuel Beckett.
I played Hamm, a decrepit, old man bound to a chair on castors, who lives with his slaveboy servant foster son and his elderly dependents who eat all his food decaying parents (each of them kept in barrells – presumably because they no longer have legs).
It’s a challenging post-apocalyptic play that pushed me greatly as an actor – despite the fact we remained seated onstage.
It also reunited me with Cara O’Brien who played the Snow Queen in the aforementioned play; all while introducing me to more friendly faces I felt honoured to work with.
For Endgame, I took inspiration from my own existential anxieties about life, death, isolation, and reconciling of legacies, and mashed that all up with a nice dollop of Shakespeare’s Macbeth.
Even on a superficial level, for my part, there was an allusion (which I would learn the more I practiced the play) to Christianity and the Holy Trinity.
The end result was a meditation on vulnerability, being human, and the blurred dimensions of time and memory.
And, speaking of strutting about a stage, I will be doing that in the mainstage production this Fall!
I’m proud to announce that I will be acting alongside all of the wonderfully talented individuals you see on the poster below. Not only that, one of the most exciting things about this production is the fact that it was written by local playwright, Amanda Doig.
World, meet Of Marriage Minded Misses.
We just started rehearsal and it’s been a blast so far.
Our director, Julie MacCoy, is a light upon this world and everyone has been a dream to work with. I’m already looking forward to our next rehearsal… and I find that feeling growing stronger and stronger the more I engage with Doig’s material.
The play itself is hilarious, touching, and right up the alley of anyone who likes a good Victorian romp with some modern sensibilites (no, not like Carrie Cracknell’s Persuasion (2022) where Dakota Johnson’s Anne Elliott was cracking wise about playlists and selfies at a time when that makes no gat damn sense!).
I apologize to all my Dakota Johnson stans out there.
My point, however, is that Of Marriage Minded Misses is going to knock your socks off in the most tasteful – and tap-hackled – sense.
Heaven forbid anyone… shows their ankles!!! *enitre audience gasps in horror*
Anywho, without spoiling anything at all, this production has shaped up to be something equal parts magic, hilarity, and heart – similarly to The Snow Queen, but really each show is so different.
The journey is still ongoing, of course.
Here we are at the beginning of Show Month(TM) and it feels like both no time and all the time in the world has passed us by. The show has grown just as we have grown alongside each other as performers and even new friends.
Theatre works its magic (there’s that word for the umpteenth time), again.
We live in a society!
There, I said it.
When I started this blog, it was admittedly meant to be a place for me to vent and process thoughts I couldn’t sit on any longer. My head was too full!
Of course, my therapist had also suggested journalling – and I’ve dabbled in that on-and-off over the years, the primary issue being my ADHD and the ease with which I lose physical objects.
Interestingly, the last journal I lost returned to my hands just a couple of years ago.
To say my thoughts and emotions have, for lack of a better term, evolved since I last wrote in that journal would be an understatement.
I wrote most of the entries in that journal while I was still in high school. It’s like reading the thoughts of a kid because… well, I was one (and still am, truth be told).
It reflects a certain amount of growth and change.
More than that, it’s a throughline that connects to where I am now in my life – with theatre, in love, and in terms of finding myself.
The truth is you never stop finding yourself… and isn’t that beautiful?
Finding a voice and a means of expression, surrounded by likeminded kids, coming together to put on something more than miraculous – magical, there’s no better word for the feeling, the atmosphere.
That was Beal Musical Theatre for me.
Ah, good old BMT.
I can still remember my first dance class and how terrified I was because I thought there was no way I was coordinated enough for what our teacher had in-store for us. Then, learning the actual choreography and just KNOWING that I was not getting it at first. There was a definite learning curve.
Fast forward to my final year of BMT in Grade Eleven and I finish the year with the highest dance mark I’d ever gotten; they told me it was because of the progress I’d made since our first show together.
That show – put on as part of our high school’s 100th anniversary – was Hairspray.
There was something so intoxicating about that feeling – not the audience (although that was a big part of it too) – the ability, the freedom to become and create and play. On top of that, getting to sing and dance heightened it all.
I’ve always found acting, singing, and writing to be my favoured modes of creative expression. Discovering dance and pushing my body to new limits was a gratifying (though, as I mentioned previously, also terrifying) experience.
I got my first real dose of PSD (Post Show Depression) once our run of Hairspray ended which meant I was raring to go by the time BMT sprang up again the following year with Once on this Island.
And, again, my mind was blown.
Every time I take the “leap” into theatre, every time I convince myself to push past those stomach knots and bouncing butterflies, I discover a new love, a fresh perspective – I fall in love every time.
It’s like the expression I used to have in grad school: “I fall in love with something or someone every day.”
It wasn’t necessarily the most literal expression but it was true, whether I found a word or a figure inspiring or someone I knew said or did something I found beautiful. I used the word love a tad liberally perhaps but I was liberal with my love in how I viewed the world. I like to think I still am in many ways. I stive to be, anyway.
After all, we’re here to love.
Certainly, I am here to love – to give and recieve… though, truth be told, what fulfills me most is knowing the people I love know that I love them and they feel it.
I digress, as always, with one final note to say that theatre represents or encompasses that feeling – of all those little discoveries we make on a regular basis.
What discoveries have you made lately?
I never really make this an interactive thing but I’d love to know. I’d love to hear more from people in the blogosphere and across the mediums of my life.
I want to keep growing, keep learning, keep absorbing.
Keep challenging myself within reason and recognizing my own self worth – honoruing the fact that my self worth is not dependent on what anyone else thinks of me and my desire to spread love.
While being a light in the dark may not save the world on its own, it could keep the path forward visible enough for the right person or people to see us through.
Life is a stage, sure, but its also a moment.
And, if we’re all players strutting about the stage, it’s nice to know your fellow actors are looking out for you… and, y’know, don’t want to burn the whole theatre down with everyone in it!
One can dream, I suppose.
Or, one can make an appointment to audition for Cambrian Players and experience that communal joy I’ve been ranting and raving about for the past however many paragraphs. The choice is yours!
I won’t twist your arm but, hey, no one can tell me not to shamelessly promote my favourite community theatre group on my own blog so here we are.
Onwards, upwards, marriage-minded, and so, so very grateful for this life.
thatfroninja. 