From time to time, one becomes aware of a soundtrack that is quietly playing in the background our lives, music that fills the heart more than the head and gently comforts us in basic and secure ways. For me, in the Autumn of 1981, it was the music of Dan Fogelberg and Michael Franks. During the previous summer, I had found a deep, all-consuming love that had a score played daily on the stereo, songs like “The Reach”, “Since You Ask”, “Longer Than”, “Netherlands”, “Dragonfly Summer”, and now, far from that Love, these evocative and heartfelt songs played through my days reminding me of what I had left behind and now yearned for with every fibre of my being. Not a great way to begin working on “The Tempest” as my first full season at MTC started. Nevertheless, there it was.

The production was being done in The Warehouse (now The Tom Hendry) which was MTC’s smaller space (and configured very differently from what it is today – there were no walls back then!!!). I was playing ‘Antonio” opposite Kimble Hall as ‘Sebastian’. We were the villains. The great thing about being part of a Resident Company is the trust and security one feels when you have nothing to prove to anyone and can feel safe making mistakes. We launched into Richard Ouzounian’s concept with focus and determination. The production was minimalist in its production values. The opening music was by Brian Eno (either from the “Deru” or “Neroli” albums, I can’t remember which) and right from the outset created an otherworldly, fantasy ambience in which both the performers and audience lived for the two hours of the play. My experience with Shakespeare up to this point had been in straightforward, traditional productions. This was eye opening and mind blowing and very, very exciting. A scene’s locale, mood and emotional tensions were defined merely by light. There were no sets to speak of, just the definition of an area picked out of the huge black void in which we were playing by shafts of light or a swath of colour on the floor.

BG music: Fogelberg – “The Reach”; sustained by long distance phone calls; letters

As we progressed through the rehearsals in the studio, we had only the vaguest of ideas of how this high concept was going to look and feel but, like a magician, Richard provoked us to play our relationships very intimately, as if everything was in secret, mindful of being overheard by anyone nearby except, of course, the audience, our co-conspirator. At times, it felt silly. The instinct was to “declaim” and here we were keeping everything incredibly guarded and low-keyed. But that is the point of the play, that everyone is keeping information from each other, no one really knows what anyone else is doing, all under the spell of ‘Prospero’ and his minions. The conspiratorial intimacy between ‘Antonio’ and ‘Sebastian’ developed in to something extremely private, homoerotic, some would say, setting the two characters apart from the rest on any number of levels. It was incredibly satisfying to get so connected to another performer like that and the depth of our relationship fueled our scenes in a way that was both dangerous and perversely attractive at the same time.

I now recognize that this production and the subsequent productions that season were the beginning of my journey beyond “technique”. Richard created environments that demanded we relinquish traditions and pre-conceptions of “playing” a role. I had worked for so many years getting the notes and the words “right”, depending on whatever charisma I had to fill in the rest of the performance. This new (for me) approach was exciting, challenging, maddening and so deeply satisfying.

While we performed “Tempest”, we went into rehearsal for “The Black Bonspiel of Wullie MacCrimmon” by W.O. Mitchell. Acting on-stage and curling at the same time … what could be more difficult? The plot concerns a small-town Alberta shoemaker who makes a wager with the Devil that the local curling team can beat the Devil’s team (Macbeth, Judas Iscariot and Guy Fawkes). The prize? The MacDonald Brier. Iconic Canadian fare, what?

BG Music: Fogelberg – “What I’ll Give You Since You Ask”; long distance calls; letters; a Christmas visit! No BG: real words and music; departure, again, resulting in more questions than answers; solo life returns as does the background music!

I had only curled once years before in Montreal and the lessons I now took at the Granite Club in Winnipeg made me remember why I hadn’t continued with the sport. Basically (and this is for my non-curling American readers – most of you, I think), curling is shuffleboard. On a one hundred and forty-foot long “sheet” of ice. Using a forty-pound granite rock with a handle. And brooms!  In curling, form is everything! One basically becomes a sliding tripod, swinging the forty pound rock like a pendulum while, at the same time, in a lunge position, sliding down the ice balanced on one foot with the other foot stretched out behind you, your free hand using the broom stretched out to your side to keep you from falling over and carefully aiming the rock toward the target, letting it ease out of your hand before you slide past the foul line!! My God!!

The play required that a curling sheet be constructed on which we would actually play the rocks from on-stage to off. The saga of getting the silicone surface of the sheet “right” in order for the game to look real would take much too much time to go into here. Suffice to say, it was eventually worked out only a couple of days before opening! While it didn’t matter where our rocks went once off stage (no one saw that, of course) our form had to look like we knew what we were doing. A Professional curler had been hired make sure the rocks curled from OFF-stage to ON-stage went where they were supposed to go. The drama depended on one team or the other getting closest to the target at certain points in the game and the dead-on precision of the Professional was our best bet to make that happen. The dialogue, and the story line, depended on it!! However, the talented but occasionally irascible Andrew Gillies, playing on the “good guys” team, had other ideas.

Unbeknownst to us, Andrew decided at some point that HE was proficient enough to do some of the curling himself from off-stage, executing the crucial throws that determined who was winning the game and about which we had a LOT of scripted dialogue. I mentioned that I was moving beyond just technique and working on giving my performances greater depth based in the character’s authenticity. Within the parameters firmly dictated by the script and established in rehearsals, we all lived our “lives” with a comfort and confidence that propelled the story forward. So, it was with great amazement one night that we became aware that the rocks coming from off-stage were not landing where they were supposed to resulting in our team having to do some serious improvising and come up with explanations for some very bad rock positioning all of which affected the crucial tensions about ‘Wullie’s’ ultimate fate! We’d yell off-stage as each wayward rock came sliding on. “Whoa, laddie, careful there!”, “A bit outside there!” “Slow ‘er down a wee mite there, boyo”, “No more drinking for you!” (Subtexts: “What the fuck is going on!!!”) We were trying to give some guidance to the Pro backstage while at the same time keeping our character’s voices and concerns real for the audience who were now becoming increasingly baffled by what was playing out before their eyes. Somehow, moving around behind each other, we managed to surreptitiously reposition the rocks to where they were supposed to be in order to get the desired result and the play finished as it was supposed to … just!

Naturally, once in the wings, we pounced on the Pro who, in his own defense and with no hesitation, pointed at Gillies as the villain. Needless to say, that never happened again!! We laughed about it after taking the renegade to task, but it taught me another lesson about being “in the moment” no matter what happens.

BG Music: Franks – “Dragonfly Summer; long distance phone calls, letters and more letters.

Altering Shakespeare has become a “thing” these days. Environments, time periods, and genders are all up for grabs in order to make a play more “relevant”, provocative or “interesting”. Back in 1982, that was not usually the way to go. Peter Brook had caused a big stir with his new vision of “Dream” at the RSC in the ‘70’s, but not a lot of other companies were daring enough to try something that “off-the-wall”. Never one to hold back, Ouzounian came through with a “Taming of the Shrew” set in … wait for it … WINNIPEG 1982!! If nothing else, it was fascinating to watch the concept evolve during our rehearsals. The framework was certainly there from the beginning, but fun was in the details! None of Shakespeare’s words were changed. No characters were altered. It was simply the physical environment AND the sound of the words.

I played ‘Tranio’, a part I had played long ago at Acadia. But certainly not like THIS!! Speaking Shakespeare with a French Canadian accent (yup!) took a lot of practice and concentration, but I discovered that using the accent made me think of the words in a different way. I had to be very specific and focused to make the words understandable and I luxuriated in that. I made my first entrance with ‘Lucentio’ on the back of a Harley-Davidson dressed as you see in the picture to the left (complete with the cigarette!). Roller skating, the Mackenzie Brothers, a faux Manitoba Lieutenant-Governor as one of the characters AND a swimming pool built into the stage floor were all elements of this rollicking production.

Like the “ice” in “Bonspiel”, the swimming pool, in which a number of characters spent time during the show, ended up requiring some major attention. A few days after it was used for the first time, folks discovered rashes developing on their legs. Something was growing in the pool!!! The water was turning green and it took a while to solve the problem. A techie’s life at MTC in those days was never dull! Fortunately, I never had to swim.

We were now well into the New Year and excitement was mounting as the playbill for the next season was quickly being put together. Everyone was a buzz about who would be playing what and the anticipation consumed the Company. Not me. My personal life was in a nose dive and despite calls, letters and the much too short Christmas visit, emotional upheaval inserted itself solidly into my day-to-day existence. Distance was my enemy and, while I loved what I was doing, I couldn’t reconcile living in Winnipeg with my heart desperately needing to be somewhere else. This state of mind was affecting my work, so much so that people started to notice. I was not the effusive, buoyant individual I had been and a thickness enveloped me all the time.

Always aware of what was going on in his Company, the Boss took me aside one day. “Hurstie, (that’s what he called me) how can we fix this?” I had no idea. My only solution, though painful, was to leave this wonderful Family and go where my heart needed to be. Richard had another idea. “How about this? I can create a new position for an acting intern, someone brought in to fill out some of the smaller roles in the large productions. Would that work”? Even writing his words all these years later makes me choke up. Richard’s devotion and compassion knew no bounds. He was committed to us in ways most folks never knew. I could hardly believe it! And the wheels were set in motion.

There were still two shows to go in the season. However, I had a three-performance Symphony commitment in Pittsburgh that had been set a year earlier and on which Richard had signed off. It was strange watching “Shrew” the night before I left with an understudy playing my role! It was a very different interpretation and my visceral reactions had me squirming in my seat, physically responding to the “incorrect” line deliveries and the “wrong” facial reactions. I was back after the weekend (which was also an emotional breather) and into rehearsals for the next show.

“Side By Side By Sondheim” was, for me, the jewel in the crown that year. I had done the show before in the States (along with “Forum” and “Night Music”) and was very comfortable with the material. The lyrics and music of Stephen Sondheim are the pinnacle in the world of Musical Theatre. The depth and complexity of his songs have challenged performers for more than half a century and now I was to luxuriate in them once again. There were three of us singing (Illana Zaramba, Tracy Dahl and myself) and Richard took on the ‘Narrator’. The intimacy of the Warehouse space suited the revue style of the show and the experience was incredibly satisfying, particularly getting to hear Tracy sing every night. To put it lightly, she was, and still is, magnificent! With a laser focus on the material and an inquisitiveness that resulted in an expanded understanding, she continues to amaze audiences around the world to this day. And, as a teacher, insists on the same commitment with her students. The words and the music must fit together. It is a performer’s responsibility to the creator and discovering each nuance and sharing it with an audience is why I love performing … and teaching.

The final show was Wilde’s “The Importance of Being Earnest”, and for me it was another highlight in the season. This time I got to play TWO roles! In the first Act I was ‘Lane’, the ancient retainer to Algernon in London, and in the second Act, I was ‘Merriman’, the young retainer to Cecily Cardew in the country. (I played these two roles many years later and reversed the characters. Fun!)

I am hard pressed to state for an absolute fact how I approach a role. There are schools of acting that insist the approach be made from the inside; that is, creating a character using the deep inner thoughts and feelings as the sole defining elements. Then there are those who approach from the outside, deciding the personality and essence by how the character moves and looks and what he or she wears. I use both … at the same time. For me, one approach affects the other. You feel and act a certain way because you look a certain way and vice versa. Getting to play two completely opposite extremes of personality in the SAME play was a lesson in creating contrasts. The pictures sort of sum it up, don’t they?

Lorne Kennedy played ‘Algernon’, an irreverent, devil-may-care man about town and I was his valet. Lorne was (and is) a great actor, ready for just about anything on stage and not a little bit mischievous when he was really comfortable in a role. There had been more than a few occasions when he managed to break us up during a performance with a surreptitious look or words spoken up stage, under his breath and way out of character. This, of course, was very naughty, but went on anyway. ‘Lane’ was a very “old school” gentleman’s gentleman, extremely precise, meticulous and contained. One of his small idiosyncrasies, however, was to make small involuntary sounds – a feeble little ‘ah’ or a small groan under the exertion of lifting a cup and saucer – like very old people do. They didn’t happen very often; they just came out, sometimes at the most unexpected moments, even to me!

One night, I was standing beside ‘Algernon’, as he sat in his chair sipping wine  pontificating out to the audience about something or other when one of those little sounds managed to escape from my throat, a little “A-a-ah’. And in the middle of a word, Lorne lost it! Totally! It was a huge guffaw, so loud that it caught the attention of folks backstage who rushed into the wings to see what was going on. Even though it was unintentional (honestly, it was just ‘Lane’ being ‘Lane’ at that moment in time), I secretly took great pleasure in watching Lorne get some deserved comeuppance and struggle mightily for a long time to regain control. We laughed about it backstage, he congratulated me, and I made sure ‘Lane’ never did it again … at that point in the play.

Early in the run, the wonderful English actress Maggie Askey, our beloved ‘Lady Bracknell’, fell in the bathtub at home and broke her hip. This was tragic for a number of reasons. Of course, it was devastating for poor, elderly Maggie (who took a very long time to recover back in England) but also for the sold out show that night. Our productions at MTC did not have understudies (unless it had been arranged like I had back in ‘Shrew’) and there was no one in the cast who could move up because there was no one to replace a character at the bottom of the cast roster.

Leadership takes many forms and that night, it took the form of a very tall, baby-faced, and busty ‘Lady Bracknell’ as played by OUR leader, Richard Ouzounian!! Until our ‘Miss Prism’ got the lines down three nights later, Richard, with an elegantly disguised prompt script in hand, hit every note, got every laugh and undeniably saved the day. Of course, having directed the production, he knew all the details of the performance and carried it off with incredible aplomb! There are some things one cannot unsee in life. There exists, somewhere in my collection, a wonderful photo of his ‘Lady” but I can’t find it right now. I promise to keep searching, because I know you want to see it!!

With most of our roles for the next season firmly in place we bid each other farewell for a few months. And by now, I could barely contain myself. Oregon awaited me! And another Summer of Love was about to begin!