I launched myself into the New Year (1989, for those of you keeping score) with a frenzy that surprised even me. “Falstaff” was winding down but the days were filled with commercial recording sessions, teaching Musical Theatre Performance for the Manitoba Conservatory and MTC’s Youth Theatre, serving as President of my Co-op Board (a position I’d tried to relinquish but, like Al Pacino in “The Godfather” I kept getting pulled back in). I was doing concert run-outs on days off, and, to top everything off, had been commissioned to write a “School Song” for Vincent Massey High School, a duty I took very seriously and spent a great deal of time on while learning a huge new computer music program that took forever to wrestle to my orchestrating needs. It was exhausting!

            My involvement with Actors Equity began to increase. When not dashing back to Toronto for meetings (which became more fraught as the Association faced a leadership crisis that went on for months), I had a telephone glued to my ear in my apartment for Executive Committee conference calls that went on for hours. I eventually smartened up and bought a set of stereo headphones to make the interminable calls a bit more palatable. I sat on Arts Council juries and found myself wondering where people came up with some of the off-the-wall ideas that were presented to us. Out of dozens of funding requests the panels were invariably confined by fiscal limitations and the emotional toll of having to turn down viable projects shook us every time. And then, as if passing through the wall of a hurricane into the eye, I was suspended in the calm, away from the maelstrom that had surrounded me for months, and I began rehearsals for “I Do, I Do”.

            The long-planned Chimes Dinner Theatre had finally opened quietly and inauspiciously a few months earlier at the high-end Westin Hotel in downtown Winnipeg. Originally a conference room, under Jack Timlock’s guidance and design, the large space had been transformed into an elegant and fully-fledged performance venue seating 150 diners. The kitchen was the same as that for The Velvet Glove Dining Room adjacent to the theatre and, as was the case with all of the Westin’s eateries, produced very high quality food. The Theatre’s first two productions were low-keyed and somewhat slipshod. Our production was to be first class all the way. However, the initial organization and preparation left something to be desired. Contrary to Timlock’s laudable attention to detail at Rainbow Stage, Chimes seemed to be treated as a distant second cousin, due mainly to lack of production staff.

“I Do, I Do” is a musical by Schmidt and Jones based on Jan de Hartog’s play “The Fourposter” and follows the lives of a husband and wife (‘Michael’ and ‘Agnes’) as they face the ups and downs of married life over a period of fifty years. In a two-hander there is no place to hide. It is an intense exercise in focus, self preservation and collaboration. Our rehearsal period was only two weeks with the Director (Kimberly Timlock, Jack’s sister) not arriving until six days before opening! So, with the extremely capable Celoris Miller as our Musical Director, Vivianna (“Viv”) Zarrillo and I were thrust into learning songs and lines in a kind of limbo in an empty rehearsal space without any guidance. It was stressful and led to the dilemma of “do we get on our feet and stage this number by ourselves?” or “do we sit and wait for Kimberly to arrive?” Against my better judgment, we waited. The inactivity led to some tensions but, by the time she did arrive, the songs and lines were well-practiced and we got it up in a couple of days. That was the easy part. Learning to play the saxophone (very badly) for one of the numbers was a challenge to say the least. I eventually got to the point where just making a sound was a victory. Combined with the constant costume changes (some of them in nanoseconds), the frustration of the much-too-slow addition of countless props and set pieces, we were basket cases by the time the first (and only) preview arrived. But, as is always the case, we survived.

One other element I found myself contending with was an inherent gender bias in the script. Since the story spanned a fifty year period starting in the late nineteenth century, social attitudes and cultural norms were very much on display. My leading lady was a secure, strong woman who knew her mind and wasn’t afraid to speak it. My character’s innate pompous chauvinism at the beginning of the play, while fun to play, tended to get personal responses from Viv prompting a number of “exchanges” between us in real life. That baffled me. The words we had to say to each other in the play were the playwright’s, not our own. But I could see and feel Viv’s resistance to giving in to ‘Agnes’s’ frailties. I found a subtle aggressiveness in rehearsal that gave her character an edge that belied the male and female roles of the times which, when viewed from a modern perspective, provided some of the comedy in the piece, her subservience being laughable now.  All this started me thinking about the women in my own life.

I had always been surrounded by strong women. My mother and grandmother were very intelligent and nurturing women who worked in business most of their lives, navigating a male-dominated society which, at times, clung to old traditions of “the little lady” and “a woman’s place is in the home”. I remember my mother telling me about attending International Business Symposiums as the Chief Facilitator but also as the only woman in a Board Room filled with male executives who would condescend to her position of power, smirking in side-long glances at each other with undisguised distain. She would go back to her hotel room and weep in frustration and anger. At this point in time, I can still feel my hackles rising just reading of such an attitude toward my mother, but she persisted in her approach of dialogue and consensus building eventually guiding everyone to an equitable conclusion. But those efforts took fortitude and perseverance.

It now struck me that Viv was perhaps experiencing much the same thing in our play, having a difficult time separating our on-stage and real life relationships. Here again, I took some solace that it was ‘Michael’ talking and not Richard when we were rehearsing but, at the same time, I was very aware of the delicate line that Viv was experiencing about the two of “us”. Compounding this for both of us was the pressure of the up-coming opening, our insecurities about certain scenes, and maintaining the emotional balance of the characters and their situations. When it worked, which it did most of the time, it was euphoric; when it didn’t, it was hell. I sympathized with her turmoil and was as accommodating as I could be remembering my mother’s private responses to being diminished by men and my own situations in which, as a performer playing a character, I had no control. As we got more comfortable with all that was being thrown at us and the work, things calmed and by the time we got to opening, we were settled and confident.

The preview and opening were resounding successes. Jack was massively pleased and, before we opened, our run was extended by two weeks. Our audiences were sometimes big and sometimes small but always responsive. There was really no other way they could be. The piece is provocative in light of the political correctness of the day and vocal responses from the occasional audience member tended to surprise us on stage. There were nights when the ladies would hoot and jeer at me for “my” chauvinism and other nights when the men would cheer for me. One night, as ‘Michael’ alone on stage muses about whether or not to wear his night cap to bed, out of the dark came a loud, slightly inebriated male voice yelling “Go for it!” I could hear Viv guffaw just off stage along with the audience and it was all I could do to maintain. As we progressed through the run getting more and more comfortable, the challenge was in keeping focus. As the words and actions became second nature, I would find myself editorializing, stepping out of character for a moment and assessing what I was doing and how I was doing it. It was somewhat otherworldly as I watched ‘Michael’ respond and react thinking “well, that wasn’t very good” or “not bad, Hurst, not bad”. I had to jolt myself out of that dangerous objectivity and get back to business. It still strikes me as odd how performers have to work so incredibly hard to be “natural” on stage when, in Life, “being” comes so naturally … if that makes any sense. The challenge in balancing the juxtaposition of the two realities remains mysterious to me and is probably what I love most about this craft. In a two-hander it’s in constant play.

Jack Timlock was becoming the center of my Universe. Just after we opened he asked if I would be interested in writing a revue for the next Chimes offering. A Revue! That sounded easier than writing a book show so I agreed and applied for and received a “living grant” from the Arts Council. We also began talking about the Rainbow Classes for the summer. Since they had been such a success the year previous it was a no-brainer to offer them again. What I would be interested in playing in the proposed productions (“Peter Pan” and “Carousel”) for that year was another discussion. Alan Lund was coming back as our Director/Choreographer. All was well with the world!

Writing twenty songs with no theme on which to hang them was my first obstacle. What was the show to be about? Timlock was not being helpful. He had too many other things to deal with. “You signed the contract; you’re getting four percent of the gross; the rest is up to you”, he said. Something topical, political, satirical? Something local, something irreverent, a combination of everything? I didn’t take long to be inspired. A few days of reading the local newspapers gave me some ideas and the original “’Peg O’ My Heart” (there were two of them) was born. I decided it was to be loosely centered on a group of tourists who were grounded in Winnipeg for a few hours because of airplane mechanical difficulties and were offered a tour of the city to keep them occupied. Yeah, feeble, but it was all I had to go on for the moment. I would walk to the evening performances of “I Do” reciting my lines on the way and then concentrated on ideas for songs. I was coming up with a song every two days and, with a couple of months before starting rehearsals, I felt confident I could get my arbitrary number of songs written.

The songs stood by themselves; that is, they didn’t have to relate to each other or fit into a story line except under the umbrella of the overall theme which was, of course, Winnipeg. Decide on a topic – shopping malls, politicians, various areas in town, multiculturalism, cross border shopping, etc. – and write a song. As they solidified I would play them for folks and the response would usually be laughter … exactly what I wanted! Two songs, “Transcona” and “Lost Under Portage and Main”, would get great reactions and spurred me on to find the “hooks’, the unexpected word or phrase that was the point of the song. Each song was a little self-contained puzzle to be solved.

With the topic set, then came the form – maybe a set-up verse launching into a repeated chorus with variations; then the musical style which often ended up being a part of the “hook” – music that was a contrast to what was being said; once that was settled, the music and lyric usually came, for me, at the same time – not one before the other; the inner workings were dictated by the scan of the lyric – how many beats in a bar, where the syllabic stresses were to make aural sense of the words, the rhyme scheme and, always at the foundation, the constant question being “what am I trying to say”. There really wasn’t an “order” to the approach. It all seemed to happen organically. Some took no time at all while others took a while and were probably the most challenging academically. But, amazingly, they all worked out.

The cast (Jayne Paterson, Patti Jamieson, Jennifer Lyon, Tim Murphy and Alex Mustakas) was great! They launched into the material I was producing on a daily basis with incredible gusto making it their own – after all, they were the first to do these songs – rising to the occasion with their own spins. There were aggravating moments during rehearsals when folks decided they should offer “improvements” on my lyrics. Even stage management thought they would get in on the game re-writing my songs or offering new verses they thought were funny. Those infringements would send me up the wall and it all got nipped in the bud in short order. Timlock’s contribution of a few “sketches” to act as transitions between some songs was tentatively welcomed but the downside was that he took forever to complete them and would send the cast into tailspins learning lines as we got closer to opening. But, as it always does, things came together under Kimberley’s direction.

The audiences ate it UP! The previews started the word-of-mouth ball rolling and it never let up. It was the show to see in town that summer. Politicians, local celebs, media personalities anyone who was mentioned in the songs flocked to the show! Even Bill Norrie came and luxuriated in “Billy, My Boy”, a song about the challenges he faced as Mayor of the city and lapped up the responses of the crowds during and after the show! Houses were huge nightly and for me hearing that kind of laughter from such large crowds was the reward … along with the weekly royalty cheques that kept on coming all summer long!

Then, the day before we opened, out of the blue a Free Press’s headline took everyone by surprise! While I knew there had been some grumblings (and indeed, I’d been party to conversations with MTC Board members who wondered why people weren’t coming to the theatre – the playbill for the season was drab, unexciting and unknown) I had no inkling this would be the result of the displeasure. Past seasons had squeaked by and everyone had kept their heads. But I guess this wasn’t one of those times. Associate Steven Schipper was appointed the new AD and life went on, albeit apprehensively as we waited to find out the direction in which Steven would be taking the premiere venue (for both audiences and artists) in town. It was the beginning of a new era, one that, with Steven at the helm, was to last for almost 30 years!

Not missing a breath, I careened into Rodgers and Hammerstein’s “Carousel” at Rainbow Stage. It seemed like everything was suspended for a while. Leaving the chaos of writing and creating “’Peg” and being enfolded in the beauty and magic of Rogers and Hammerstein’s music and story was a cloud on which I floated for the next six weeks under the masterful guidance of Alan Lund.  While my role (‘Enoch Snow’) wasn’t huge, it gave me a chance to play yet another pompous chauvinist (why did I always get these roles?) with some wonderful songs to sing opposite dear Lilianne Stilwell (playing ‘Carrie’). John Devorski and Sheila Brand headed the production as ‘Billy’ and ‘Julie’ with the superb Liane Marshall as ‘Nettie’. It was, however, another eye opener for me as I would watch from the wings becoming more and more aware of the choice-of-show dilemma facing producing entities these days … the question of outdated cultural norms like racial inequality or baked-in misogyny, issues that weren’t quite as controversial when some shows were written but were now. To be fair, R&H were well aware of what they were commenting on, like in “South Pacific” containing the song “You’ve Got To Be Carefully Taught”, a thinly disguised rebuke of bigotry. While producers have to weigh the potential of creating controversy, performers also have to come to grips with what they were saying and singing about. While revenge or reclamation or retribution invariably brought antagonists to accountability, it was sometimes the difficulty of “playing” the elements of story and character that we deemed cringe worthy today. I saw Julie’s victimization nightly and it broke my heart when the spirit of ‘Billy Bigelow’ returns to earth and realizes what effect his behaviour has had on his daughter and how, without ever knowing him, she forgives him. There is a baseness that might be overlooked or excused through tears in the moment, but its effects remain in our minds long afterward.

Jammed in between all this was the premiere of Vincent Massey High School’s School Song. A professor of music from University of Manitoba had orchestrated the song for Concert Band and the Choir had been well rehearsed. It’s first playing had elicited cheers and tears from the teachers who had gathered for the in-house rehearsal, the only performance I could attend because of evening shows. It really did sound wonderful: “We will stand together/In the light of the coming day./For we are young and the future’s ours/With our hearts to lead the way”. There was also preparation to do for the Summer Workshop Classes and it was back to administration for a bit to get that in order. We had reduced the number of classes offered and increased the number of spots available. They were filled before we started! And as “Carousel” hit the boards we were off to the races once more.

The summer heat was oppressive! Being under the stage lights brought back memories of “Fiddler” performances wearing wool coats and sweating under layers of clothing as we left Anatevka. Wearing a thick fisherman’s wool turtleneck sweater during “Carousel” was almost more than I could stand. Singing “When The Children Are Asleep” as rivulets of sweat ran down my face and back is still a vivid memory and there was no escape. Retreating to the slightly cooler dark backstage area with fans churning up dust and a bit of a breeze did little to ease the discomfort. Outdoor summer theatre certainly does have its drawbacks. But the audiences ate us up and that was the reward … sort of.

The classes before the evening performances were marvelous! With a full roster of teachers and students (62 of them!), there was again a sense of community and family, all committed to learning the craft and improving already considerable skills in some cases. Some kids blew me away! Sixteen year old Jamie McLennan, with whom I’ve since reconnected and is now an established teacher and performer himself, was, back in those days, an astonishing young vocalist with an incredible vocal quality well beyond his years. It was kids like this that made the whole teaching experience so worthwhile. And not to let the grass grow under my own feet, we began a late-night cabaret series at Chimes Dinner Theatre following our shows at Rainbow. On Friday nights, members of the “Carousel” cast would present hour-long midnight shows of their own creation and even for that time of the day, they were incredibly well attended, both by “civilians” and other casts around town. With a stop-off for a bite to eat and chatter at the local Country Kitchen after those performances we were usually heading home as the light of the new day started to fill the sky. It was all very “romantic” – in the theatrical sense – an incredibly productive and fulfilling time!

“Carousel” closed and we headed into “Peter Pan’ which was very high-end and spectacular children’s theatre. Playing ‘Smee’ opposite Michael Rawley’s ‘Captain Hook’ was a primer in “eat-the-scenery/shtick” acting and we both sent it to the heights … shamelessly. We had to keep ourselves amused somehow as the script was incredibly juvenile. But Alan (Lund) let us get away with murder because he saw how hard we were trying to make the silliness of the script work, much to the delight of the cast members who would fill the room when we were rehearsing our bits! It wasn’t great “theatre” but rampant ticket sales were already confirming the choice of this show was the right one for the end of summer.

But the tech runs were terrible. With the huge set changes not moving fast enough and the flying not being cued properly, Alan, true to form during tech rehearsals, was beside himself. We’d all experienced his tirades and now, combined with some performances not where he want them, he was fit to be tied!

One evening I was called to the backstage phone. It was Timlock.

“Tell Alan and John (Shopka, our Production Manager) that I’m going to be late”, he said. He sounded somewhat upset.

“What’s wrong? Where are you?” I asked, knowing that Alan, in his present state of mind, needed Jack to rant at and would want more than the vague message Timlock was asking me to relay.

“I’m with the police.”

“What!!? Why? What did you do!?” My mind was doing flip-ups now.

“I didn’t do anything. Shapira has been arrested.”

“For what?”

“Conspiring to commit bodily harm”, he said. I connected the dots very quickly.

As if I didn’t already know the answer and all its implications, I asked, “On WHO??”

“Me”, he said. I could feel my knees begin to shake. I didn’t know what to say. “Don’t go into any huge explanation. I’ll get there as soon as I can” and we hung up.

I walked out onto the stage as Alan was delivering more tirades in every direction. The cast had been assembled and I sort of melded into the background trying to decide how much of Jack’s message I should deliver. As Stage Management started to give some notes to tech, I sidled up to Alan and told him about the call. A moment later, Jack walked in, spoke to Alan for moment and then addressed the cast and crew letting them know what had happened. I guess he had to tell them something – why I couldn’t really figure out – and I could see Alan getting ready to blow again, this news just serving to tip him further over an edge on which he’d been teetering all night. Jack ended his speech and we stood there in stunned silence. Alan quickly gathered his script and jacket and stormed out of the theatre. We could hear doors banging and being slammed as he headed to the parking lot. Stage Management dismissed us. A day off would do everyone a world of good.

The Free Press headline the following day pretty well summed it up. While on day parole, Shapira had initiated “a hit” on Timlock with another ex-inmate. The man with whom he had plotted the assault had gone to the police and informed on him. The Police had had Shapira under surveillance for the past couple of weeks and he had been arrested that evening by plainclothesmen. Lord! Where was all this going to end up?

Sometimes, Life is a Movie!!