The lay of the land looked pretty good.
Once “Wizard” was into performances at Rainbow and my days were free, I could concentrate on dealing with my new house. I’d taken possession in the Spring and, because of rehearsals and teaching and performances, had only sporadically started to deal with all the changes – walls to be removed, cosmetic renovations and decorating ideas that had been percolating in my head for months. I’d become my own contractor and, through various municipal grants and special financial assistance programs for older homes, I’d had trades and services giving me quotes and estimates but hadn’t been around enough to have all the arrangements carried out. Now I was primed, literally and figuratively, to get going. My dear friend Teresa was on hand with advice and “suggestions”. We would pour over paint chips and wallpaper samples trying to decide what should happen and where. I learned very quickly that Teresa’s attention to detail usually meant heated discussions about “quarter tints” and the exactitude of “cutting in” while painting a wall. We still laugh today about those exchanges … with her invariably being right! There were nine rooms in the house and they all had to be redecorated. There was also the chimney to fix, the hot water heater to replace, the back entry to be changed into a deck, some electrical problems to be addressed and on and on. This had very little to do with my professional life but it was a creative outlet and the end result, which took a VERY long time, was worth the effort, ultimately meeting with my Mother’s approval on an “inspection” visit.
The Rainbow season ended and I had taken care of co-producing and directing the “Winnipeg Cares” AIDS Benefit (the first of many) held at the Stage which, in one night, raised an incredible $36,000.00 for The Village Clinic. I could now settle down in earnest filling my days with a steady stream of sub-contractors and suppliers with nothing to interrupt the flow until my next engagement in Portland three months hence. At least that was the plan!
It was a Monday morning and I was already into painting the front vestibule with the warm grey that was the foundation colour for most of the house, my mind focused on what else was being dealt with that day – a new doorbell to be installed, trimming wallpaper in the gallery upstairs, and some art work to be hung – when the phone rang.
CALLER: Can I speak with Richard Hurst?
ME: Speaking.
CALLER: Hi, Richard. This is Sophie calling from Greg Wanless’s office at the Thousand Islands Playhouse in Gananoque, Ontario.
ME: Yes? (sub-text: “Oooh … work!”)
SOPHIE: We’re doing a production of “Jacques Brel Is Alive and Well and Living In Paris” and wonder if you are interested and available. (I love those words!)
ME: That sounds great. When is it?
SOPHIE: Rehearsals start on the 11th and we open on the 28th.
ME: The 11th?? That’s next week!! (My mind started racing!!)
SOPHIE: Yes. I know this is short notice but we were hoping …
ME: YES! (I kept myself from yelling it.)
It’s a wonderful thing to get a job when I don’t have to WAIT to get the job! We efficiently made all the arrangements on the phone and she said they would courier out the contract overnight. And that was that! Amazingly and very quickly, all the renovation timetable adjustments worked out perfectly. Teresa would take care of the contractors that couldn’t alter appointments and I could put the others off for a while … actually a couple of months. Even more conveniently, Equity Council was meeting in Toronto that coming weekend and I could take the train up to Gananoque the morning after the meetings in time for the first rehearsal!
“Brel” is a show I’d directed twice in the States and I knew the material inside out. It’s a revue created by Eric Blau paying tribute to the great Belgian songwriter and performer of the show’s title. It has a cast of four – two guys and two girls – and, while the songs are set, who sings them is up for grabs. The only person involved that I knew was Kerry Dorey with whom I’d worked in “Cinderella”. He was the other man. I had no idea how they’d ended up with me as I knew absolutely no one connected with the production. I would find that out later.
The Thousand Islands Playhouse, founded by Greg Wanless in 1982, sits on a wharf right on the banks of the St. Lawrence River halfway between Montreal and Toronto. While its season spans the summer months, they ran a bit into the Fall and we were the last show of the season, heading into the beauty of a Southern Ontario Autumn. I was in seventh heaven as I was whisked from the train station to the Theatre by a staff member and right into our first music rehearsal! Kerry was a thankfully familiar face and I was introduced to Marcia Tratt, Teresa Pitt, (sister to Mary who was also in “Cinderella” at Rainbow) Greg Wanless, our Director and John Karr, our MD. I had asked to sing my favorite song in the show -“Chanson Des Vieux Amants” – and no one objected. So anything else I had to do in the show was just fine with me! It was all great music and it felt wonderful to be reunited with the luxury of the very familiar words and music, little life stories which have stood the test of time and are still relevant and affecting to this day!
At the break, I walked about the facility and got my bearings. Just off the lobby was a long balcony that ran the length of the theatre and looked out over the river. I walked out and leaned over the railing thinking how beautiful the surroundings were and how lucky I was to be working there. As I headed back into the theatre, I happened to look up. The underside of the wooden roof covering the balcony appeared to be moving, an undulating mass that ran the whole length of the space! I froze! SPIDERS! Thousands upon thousands of them! They had taken up residence because of the protection from the elements, the moisture at hand from the river and in particular, as I later learned, the nightly feast of moths and bugs and flying things attracted by the bright lighting for the audience who came out for intermission drinks! (You can see all the folks standing on the upper level in the photo above probably unaware (or uncaring) of the danger just a few feet over their heads!) I inched my way toward the lobby door not wanting to draw any attention or create a vibration, petrified that they would sudden drop from their webs, covering me, getting in my hair and … well, you get the idea. I viscerally hate spiders! They make my skin crawl, no matter their size. Everyone laughed back in the rehearsal hall that I had undergone the “trial by spider”. I didn’t go back out there for the rest of my time in Gananoque. I think the company has probably taken care of the colony as in later photos of the balcony there seems to be no trace of them.
At the outset, I had been very surprised to get the call to do this show. John, our MD, told me at dinner that night in “Gan” that when he’d scouted about for someone to play the role the compliments about my work had flown thick and fast and he was sold. Nice to know how you are thought about by people you don’t even know. I never did find out if I had replaced someone, what with the offer coming so late. But it didn’t matter. Kerry and I took over a beautiful cottage on a little lagoon complete with a family of herons a short distance from the theatre and the rest of the stay was idyllic! It was a shock when Marcia developed a node and had to withdraw from the show just a few days before opening. Thankfully, the great Janet MacEwan was available and it was wonderful to hear her voice again after so many years (“Evita” in Halifax). There’s nothing quite like having a new person come into a show late in rehearsals to give a cast a jolt of energy. It worked a charm and we opened to wonderful reviews and began our trek into Brel’s magical world.
“La Chanson Des Vieux Amants” is iconic Brel. Go on-line and listen to him sing it! Brel’s voice is heartbreaking and reminds me of that quintessential “French sound” of the cabarets and smoky clubs of the fifties and sixties in Paris where the likes of Edith Piaf and Charles Aznavour worked and made people fall in love! The spectacular mezzo, Chrisse Rocarro, had sung the song in both productions of the show I’d directed down south and her performance remains in my ears to this day. It’s the French guttural ‘r’ (rather than a rolled ‘r’) that makes the delivery and style authentic. That ’r’ is not easy to control and requires a particular muscular agility to make it work. When it did work, it felt (and sounded) wonderful. I loved singing it. It’s the only song sung in French in the show. (There is one other song – “Marieke” – that is sung partially in Flemish that Chrisse would nail every show!) One night during the run, I was having a particularly good performance of song. There is a moment at the end when the vocal fades away on the word “(je) t’aime” and the piano plays the theme that doesn’t resolve itself. Everything suspends for a moment in the silence before, hopefully, applause. This night, in the wee silence, a woman’s voice in the darkness with an unmistakable French accent quietly said, “Bravo” … complete with a guttural ‘r’ … and the applause began. It was, for me, validation of my attempt at authenticity. Don’t know who she was, but I sang the song for her for the rest of the run!
Then things started to unravel. Just before leaving Winnipeg, I’d arranged to have Seanna McKenna and Miles Potter stay in my house while they were doing and show and while I was in Portland doing “Side by Side by Sondheim” immediately following “Brel”. My departure and their arrival dates had worked out perfectly and I was feeling somewhat in control of yet another period of time out-of-town. Then the Producer in Portland called to tell me that the “Sondheim” production had to be postponed … FOR A YEAR!! Oh Lord! It was just a matter of weeks before Miles and Seanna were to take over my house and I would have no place to go! Taking my heart in my hands, I called and explained my situation and they very kindly said they’d find other accommodations. They didn’t want to put me out on the street! Crisis averted. But what was I to do for the next three months, having turned down offers in Winnipeg and elsewhere because of Portland?
I headed back home after a very successful “Brel” wondering if I could find enough work to at least address mortgage payments. Bit by bit, I managed to cobble together some band dates singing with Sam Lutfiyya’s Big Band, picked up some commercials and, again through Sam, arranged to work for St. John’s Music at a satellite store during the Christmas rush. I also got a few hours a week working in the Rainbow offices filing and copying stuff. Of course there was still the painting and decorating and renovation happening at the house. I was also asked to teach a 6-week Performance course to triple-threat kids (yikes) at one of the studios in town! But it all seemed so bitty, haphazard. Oddly at the same time, I had the feeling that a wide open space was spreading out before me in preparation for something else to happen. What that was I had no idea.
Somewhere, during all this upheaval, Jack Timlock announced his departure from his position of Producer at Rainbow Stage!!!
I guess that hadn’t come as too great a surprise. After all the drama and attention with the two Jacks going at each other over the past year, the Board had had enough and brought up the question of renewing Jack’s contract. After discussions and fretting, Jack decided that, under the circumstances and with the apparent lack of confidence on the part of the Board, he would not renew and that was that. He would do one more season and leave. Frankly, I don’t know how one can sustain full-bore enthusiasm for an organization from which one is essentially divorced. Working with Jack in the office I got a unique perspective on the embroilment and I don’t think he was all that broken up about leaving; but, to his credit, he was still committed to getting the season in place and ready to go. I just watched.
From time to time, desperation forces one to make choices which, in hindsight, can only be attributed to temporary insanity. Two such choices presented themselves to me in quick succession. One was accepting an offer to play Santa Claus for one of the big suburban Malls! Had it really come to this?? But I justified the decision by telling myself it was $400.00 for forty-five minutes work and I could stomach it. I quickly discovered the reason for the rather large amount of money. This gig wasn’t just sitting in a chair with kids on my lap. The money was basically “danger pay” for the big arrival they’d planned for their Santa. I was to “fly” in a “sleigh” on a zip line suspended high above the roof at one end of the Mall and extending to the other end a city block away! I would “land”, make my way down to the Mall’s Main Court, and pass out candy canes to the assembled throngs. I arrived at the appointed time, got into costume and was taken up to the roof. It was 7:00 in the evening, freezing cold, and pitch-black out.
I remember getting into the rather flimsy “sleigh” which was little more than a large office chair on wheels with a painted Bristol board cut-out of a sleigh wired to it. I was then hoisted by a crane to an unnervingly great height and connected to the zip line. I heard the countdown by the team leader’s voice on a walkie-talkie that had been attached to the “sleigh” to let me know what was going on. On his “go” I was suddenly lit up by a klieg light, felt a slight push from someone on a platform behind me, and began to slide along the wire toward the stop point the vast length of the Mall away. A lot of people had assembled in the Parking Lot far below and an announcement on a megaphone had asked them all to make noise for Santa’s arrival! As soon as the light went on the great throng people began yelling and I began waving. Blinded by the light, I could see nothing, and began to pray that this would all be over soon. I could feel the sleigh picking up speed. The ride seemed to take forever but I just kept an iron grip on the arm of the chair with one hand, frantically waving with the other, and screaming “Merry Christmas” at the top of my lungs, which was an exercise in futility as I had no mic and could hardly hear myself with the frigid wind rushing past my face! It took all of twenty seconds to get to the stopping point, but it felt like hours. I jolted to a stop and the light went out.
Thankfully, waiting hands grabbed for me. I still couldn’t see anything as my eyes were now adjusting to the darkness after the blazing klieg light went out. I was hustled off the sleigh, rushed to an exit door on the roof and guided down the stairs. With the huge Santa belly, the Santa beard and hair, I couldn’t see my feet and stumbled a few times. It was all rather frantic! We finally reached the bottom of the stairwell; someone handed me a huge bag of candy canes and I was pushed through a set of doors out into the madness of the mall! When they saw me, a huge yell filled the immense space! It was like a rock star had arrived. I began to work my way to the stage surrounded by hundreds of kids and their parents who had, I was told afterward, literally stampeded into the Mall after watching me land on the roof! I had “elves” guiding me to the center of the Court and, to tell the truth, I started to enjoy all the ultra-attention after accepting the fact that for the kids, this was a really big deal. My time at the center of all that energy lasted only about twenty minutes. I was hustled off again and my place taken over by the elves and ultimately a substitute Santa. I changed out of the costume, was handed my cheque and by the time I got into Teresa’s car (she was my escort for the event) I was exhausted but strangely exhilarated. It had gone very well (or so I was told). I’ve never played Santa again, thank you very much!
My other act of insanity followed thanks to Sam when I became a commission-based salesperson at a St. John’s Music satellite “store” in The Bay in the very Mall I’d triumphantly landed on as Santa Claus only days earlier! How the mighty had fallen! It took an entire day to “set up” the space allotted us with a display case, cash register counter, shelving and various display modules. We were in a small alcove room hidden behind the luggage department at the rear of the gigantic store. With no signage or any indication of our existence people discovered us only by accident. There were some days when no one at all found us! There was no high-end equipment to deal with here. I had been told there would be synthesizers and sound modules, equipment with which I was familiar and dinky Casio electronic keyboards, guitar picks, pitch pipes, note pads with musical notes on them, some music theory books and anything else they thought might be used as stocking stuffers. Working there became, in very short order, massively depressing! The fact that I was teaching at Ken Peter’s Dance Studio during the evenings saved my soul. The notes in my Journal during this period are painful to read: “Is this the real world?” “I sold $11.00 worth of guitar picks today! That’s about eighty cents in commission!” “I’m falling asleep behind the counter. This job is the essence of boredom!” There were so many times I was tempted to just walk out and not come back, but I persevered. It all ended just after Christmas. While I was appreciative that Sam had got me the work, it had quickly become apparent that I didn’t have the sort of temperament required for this kind of job. I don’t know if one has to be of a particular mindset to work in retail or if one has simply to “settle” for what they can get. I noticed an irritability and discontent, not so much in the upper ranks, but in those lower down the ladder, the grunts who had to stand around biding their time, waiting for a sale to somehow validate their existence. It was tough but soon enough the holidays ended!
I left the job behind without a second thought and, without knowing it, found myself in circumstances that would set me on an unexpected path, overwhelm me, and fundamentally alter the trajectory of my life for the next nineteen years!