The Hazards of Billeting a Storyteller

My first Fringe review is done and the festival hasn't even started yet.

Okay, it's not an official review. But I spent a good chunk of last night staying up listening to New York's Peter Aguero talk. Just listening, man, just listening. He's a professional storyteller performing at Venue 11 (Red River College) about the jagged mess of a relationship he had with his father.



Daddy Issues Trailer from Peter Aguero on Vimeo.

That's how much I care about you, Winnipeg audiences. I will test out performers before their shows open.

He's fantastic, by the way. Add "Daddy Issues" to your must watch list.

Happy fringing.

Opinions on opinions

I'm on this week's episode of The Living Scene podcast with CBC theatre critic Joff Schmidt, talking about

• how we both fell into reviewing
• the Winnipeg theatre scene and its awesome beast mode: The Winnipeg Fringe
• highlights from last year's mainstage season and hopes for this year's CowardFest
• those ten infamous questions James Lipton asks guests on The Actors Studio

If only I could end an interview on not-the-worst-note ever. Check it out.

An open letter to my Fringe friends

I've been asked by the Winnipeg Free Press to review shows at this year's Fringe festival. I said yes.

I'm crossing the line. And I know some of you might not forgive me.

In July, I may write a couple hundred words about the show you've worked tremendously hard on. Though backed up by observations, the review will be my opinion. You might not like it. We might disagree. We've probably disagreed before. But this time my opinion will publicly judge your quality as an artist, plus have a disproportionate impact on how many people see your show.

I feel uncomfortable with this set up. I've performed in a lot of shows and received reviews that have been all over the map. A fun example was One Good Marriage, which earned a five-star review from the Free Press, an A+ from (the now defunct) Uptown Magazine and a two-star pan from the CBC. (Sadly, I can't find it online anymore, but it more or less said "I don't buy the given circumstances.") I know that criticism is highly subjective.

But dammit, my opinion is worthwhile and worth sharing.

That's what writing reviews comes down to, so let's not dance around it. I know there is such a thing as "good art" and "bad art" with degrees in between, regardless of style. And I think - after years performing in shows, producing plays, reading criticism and reflecting on art - I can figure out not only where a piece of theatre sits on that scale, but why it sits there.

Maybe you think I'm not qualified. That's legit. I'm young-ish. I haven't seen, read or lived enough. I'm working on it, but my opinion is arguably not worthwhile.

But even if they're threadbare and anemic, my reviews are still worth sharing. Because theatre should be talked about. That, for me, is why there always needs to be reviewers at the Fringe. Not to help guide audiences' play choices (though that's reason enough), but to kick off a gut-rattling, voice-raising talk about the transformative (and entertaining) power of live theatre.

I believe theatre (even a light, fluffy musical) can and should give people a richer understanding of themselves and their lives. And not doing that (while being enormously entertaining) isn't just a shame: It's a crime.

That's why I'll write my stumbling, bumbling reviews this summer, even though it might put our friendship at risk. I hope you won't take anything I say personally if I write that your show isn't good. I hope we can hang out in the beer tent. I admire what you do and why you do it.

You're worth writing about.

- Matthew

More readin' on reviewin'
Giving stars and taking stripes by Joff Schmidt
The lonely critic by John Bent Jr
Reviews with all guns blazing by Margaret Sullivan
Morris Panych dresses down critic... by Pat Donnelly
How do you decide what to see at the theatre? by Lyn Gardner
How to write a theatre review by Lyn Gardner
Lynn Slotkin's Stratford media tickets revolked and response

7 new words from the Fringe

In the spirit of CreComm instructor Kenton Larsen (who I'll be seeing in less than a month — wow, summer flew by), I offer you seven new words/terms generated by the Winnipeg Fringe.


Show-blindness — inability to see the glaring faults of a show you are acting in

Samosoma —  deep-fried, potato-stuffed coma

Star-sighted — inability of a Fringe-goer to look past star ratings

Reviewsal — when a patron informs a handbiller that star ratings don't matter (awesome!)

Cuetaclysm — the total derailing of a show by a technical/actor snafu

Thespensity — tendency for crowds to become emotionally volatile after seeing Fringe shows

Embuskassed — feeling when you pass a busker who's trying and failing to build an audience


Now, on with August!

Fringe Review: Unseen

I was considering applying to join one of the major local review teams for this year's Winnipeg Fringe, but my anti-Fringe work schedule (3pm to 11pm) and cowardice got the better of me.

BUT I don't want to deprive you of my opinion! Please tailor the following review as suits your needs.
Best,

Matthew

REVIEW: A Fringe Show As Yet Unseen

Unseen is the hilarious/harrowing show of love/business/a squid gone awry. The tale/musical/collection of skits is presented by a local/touring/Lithuanian company who more than earn their keep/miss the mark - I'm only sorry the show couldn't continue/suffocate and die.

The script has some sharp writing, though it could definitely stand tightening. The young/old cast put in a noble effort - particularly the stunningly attractive lead. The director's tight/heavy direction is felt throughout the piece, particularly in the closing number/dramatic climax/banana dance.

While the run time of 90/60/45/10 minutes is overlong and the given circumstances make it impossible to suspend your disbelief, a quixotic blend of spontaneity, energy and humour/pathos/projections are what save/doom this show. The audience couldn't stop talking about it on the way out!

I only wish every play with similar content could be Unseen.

(Word of warning: the uncomfortable seats and hot venue distract from the show un/fortunately.)

Reflections on Festival Season

Summer is arriving in Winnipeg; festival season is about to bloom. Winnipeople will soon flock to the many festivals that fill this city’s sweet, sunny months, enjoying our town’s neighbourhoods, cultures and arts. It’s rich living for the Heart of the Continent – especially for Winnipeg’s artists.

Because even if they aren’t the sole focus (they often are), artists make up a huge chunk of a summer festivals’ programming. They’ll be strutting the stages, painting the buildings, playing music in the parks with the blessings and backings of established, branded events.

And audiences will come. Not just the season subscribers, culture vultures, and die-hard enthusiasts who attend the arts all through the year (If there is a god, may she richly bless each and every one of you). But crowds of people. Masses. Sometimes the whole city shows up. That’s what festival season is for artists: a chance to bite into the sweet fruit of all out, balls-to-the-wall support. It’s not guaranteed, but festival season is the best chance to be celebrated – really celebrated – as an artist.

I’m looking forward to festival season, even as I plan a career change away from ‘artist.’

Almost seven years ago, I cofounded Theatre by the River with a number of young actors, mostly new graduates from U of W. We looked at Winnipeg’s theatre scene and saw (rightly) that there wasn’t much work for young, local actors. So we made our own, showcasing our talents in the hopes of eventually moving from occasional gigs to full time careers. We’ve produced some fantastic shows in seven years (he said so himself) with deeply relevant messages for Winnipeg audiences. I have a treasure chest of memories from each production and I’m hoping to gather some more this summer (TBTR is presenting a staged reading of Transit of Venus at U of W on June 5 and 6 – shameless plug!).

But I haven’t snagged the career I hoped at. Which I’m willing to chalk up to lack of talent or effort. But I look around at the undeniably talented dancers, painters, musicians and actors I know and see very few wearing the title of full time, professional artist. Winnipeg only has a handful of people under that banner (most working in arts admin). That’s the reality. And now, approaching my 30^th birthday, it’s hard to pretend otherwise.

There is a window of opportunity for self-exploitation; a handful of years when the sleepless nights can be shrugged off, the small turn-outs celebrated for their intimacy, and your empty wallet made into a useful prop. You’ll work yourself hard and outrun the consequences. Throttle the living daylights out of this time.

Because the window narrows, then shuts. You will, eventually, get tired of working hard for few material rewards. Your inability to make a living solely doing what you love (your ‘calling’ you’ll say among sympathetic friends) will become frustrating. You won’t want money, but the nice things money buys...

There are ways of propping that window open, however, and the real point of writing this piece is sharing that advice. That treasure chest of memories you fill as you go about your business? Go through it, not just once or twice, but often. The young boy, the teen goth and the senior, laughing together at a Shakespearean joke; the friend who references your play as he copes with a new group home opening on his street; the normally quiet kids shouting down the bullies as you hold an extended kiss with a man – these are victories. They’re worth remembering.

And when summer comes, bite into it. Happy festival season.

This piece first appeared in The Uniter.

Countries Shaped Like Stars Preview

Once upon a time, countries were shaped like stars.

Sound was measured in pin drops

and time had no skin.

Words were understood by the spaces in between them

and anticipation grew on trees.

Two voices joyfully chant the poem in perfect harmony. They’re accompanied by a whirly-wind (one of those plastic tubes you swung over your head as a child). There’s a small audience with you in the tiny performing space; an audience, you’re told, made up of Birds and Constellations.

Countries Shaped Like Stars is one of those plays where you’re aware – even in the first few moments – that you’ve crossed some sort of threshold into a really magical place.  In an intimate venue, two actors sing you through the sweet and tragic fairytale of Gwendolyn Magnificent and Bartholomew Spectacular’s love, pulling out all the stops – puppetry, dance, audience participation – to bring the audience into the world of childhood dreams. The play was a runaway hit for Ottawa-based Mi Casa Theatre during the 2009 Winnipeg Fringe Festival.  Getting a ticket during that run meant standing in line for hours (I know, I did).

Now Countries is returning to Winnipeg for an encore run March 14 – 17, helping the Fringe fundraise for this coming summer’s festival. It’s part of a cross-country tour that’s seen actors Emily Pearlman (30) and Nicolas Di Gaetano (31) trek through Montreal, Regina, Edmonton and Whitehorse – and have a fantastic time doing so.

“The tour is awesome. It’s really great to bring it to different communities,” says Pearlman during a phone interview to Whitehorse. “We love doing this show because it feels like a party – we’re all hanging out together as we create an experience for the audience.”

“Remember as a kid the first time you saw a squirrel and you went ‘Wow! Squirrels are amazing!' Then you acclimatize and lose that sense of wonder. My main interest is providing an opportunity for adults to feel that childlike wonder again.”  

Writing a preview/review for Countries is difficult. I’m resisting the urge to give away too many playful moments that kept my jaw dropped when I first saw the show. The snarling, snapping dragon fruit; Di Gaetano’s stellar mandolin playing; the cumin-scented moustaches. I’ve said too much.

Perhaps the best way to end is this: each year at the Winnipeg Fringe I usually see just one show that stays with me as an enduring reminder of the joy of live theatre. This is one of those shows.

Countries Shaped Like Stars runs Wednesday, March 14 to Saturday, March 17 at Studio 320 (70 Albert Street). Tickets are $18 or $14 for the opening show and Saturday matinee. Get info and tickets by heading to winnipegfringe.com