Travel and Charity in Pacific Theatre’s Mother Teresa is Dead

Some people travel to visit friends or family. Some people travel to see the world. And some travel to escape. Such is the case of Jane, a character in Pacific Theatre’s latest show, Mother Teresa is Dead. Jane has travelled from England to India because she wants to help. She is overwhelmed by the poverty and injustice she sees in the world and feels an irrepressible need to help the less fortunate. But she has also left England to escape the life with her husband and young son that she sees as shallow and meaningless and seems to be drowning within.

 

Kayvon Kelly and Julie McIsaac as Srinivas and Jane. Photo by Ron Reed.

 

When the play begins, Jane’s husband, Mark, has just arrived in India. Jane has been missing for seven weeks and Mark has only just tracked her down to the house of a British expat, Frances. Frances has kindly taken Jane in, but is unable to shed any light as to why Jane left Mark and their son without a word. When Mark learns that Jane has been working at a shelter helping children, he is livid that Jane would leave their child to help other children. There are explosive confrontations between husband and wife, as well as with Srinivas, the owner of the shelter who also arrives looking for Jane.

 

Sebastian Kroon and Julie McIsaac as Mark and Jane. Photo by Ron Reed.

 

Mother Teresa is Dead made me think about travelling and why we travel. As someone who loves travelling and travels as much as possible, Mother Teresa is Dead made me think, why do we travel? Why do I travel? I know that I, as the traveller, learn so much. I learn about other countries and cultures. I try new things and have new experiences. I learn what I like and don’t like, and what I am capable of. I come home feeling enriched. But what about everyone else? How do my travels affect other people? It is clear Jane’s journey to India has affected so many lives, from her family in England, to locals like Srinivas and the children of the shelter, to the good Samaritan Frances. By travelling to India, does Jane really what she sought to do – help the less fortunate – or does she instead bring a world of trouble into Frances’ home?

 

Julie McIsaac and Katharine Venour as Jane and Frances. Photo by Ron Reed.

 

Mother Teresa is Dead is a play that asks a lot big questions, but leaves them unanswered. Can one live a guilt-free life when so many people in the world are suffering? Do we do more harm than good when we try to help? Are charities designed just to ease the guilt of comfortable Westerners? In this way, Mother Teresa is Dead is neither preachy or apologetic; it just makes you think. As I was leaving the theatre I found I was asking my own big questions about travel and the motivations for travelling that I could not find the answers for.

Congratulations to Kayvon Kelly (Srinivas), Sebastian Kroon (Mark), Julie McIsaac (Jane), and Katharine Venour (Frances) for their superb performances and to Director Evan Frayne for a truly thought-provoking and enjoyable show.

 

Mother Teresa is Dead
When: March 1st – 23rd, 2013, Wednesday to Saturday nights at 8pm, with Saturday matinees at 2 pm
Where: Pacific Theatre, 1440 W. 12th Ave, Vancouver
Tickets: Buy online

She Has A Name & So Do Many Other Victims of Sex Tourism

When I travel, I often wonder what life is like for the women that live there.  I know that with my pasty white skin and our roamancing red boots, I stand out and am not seen as one of them ~ treated with the grace and tenderness of a lady, but given the respect of a man in many cultures, in addition to being seen with a great deal of humour (often thanks to the red boots).  You see, I won the lottery of birth.  I was born into a Canadian home of two educated parents that treated each other as equals.  It was me that my Dad tried to get to pursue medicine, not my brother.  We were taught to believe that with hardwork and gumption, we could achieve whatever we set our minds to, and we have, although not necessarily quite in the manner we initially envisioned.  I mean really, how few people get to live their lives the way I am?  Don’t get me wrong I have fought hard to do what I do, and am still not making what I should (and as a single gal, I know I need to start planning for retirement), but had I been dealt a different hand in birth, none of this may have been possible. Heck, the fact alone that I worry about retirement tells you just how lucky I am. I myself may have grown up to be a very different person with none of the confidence and bull dog spirit I posses.

 

A scene from She Has A Name, showing the two-worlds of the woman in the brothel and that with a life more similar to my own. Photographed by Kelsey Krogman.

 

I was tenderly and heart-wrenchingly reminded of this when I attended a Vancouver Fringe Festival Play the other night at the Firehall Arts Centre ~ She Has A Name by Andrew Kooman presented by Burnt Thicket Theatre and RaiseTheirVoice. This was the story a young girl who at the tender age of 15 had seen more than I ever wish to see in a Bangkok brothel, repeatedly raped and forced into sexual acts from the tender age of 10, when she went into the city in Burma to work at a factory to help her single Mom support the family, or so she thought, before she was smuggled out of the country and forced into a life of sex slavery.  This is also the story of the dangers and inner turmoil of the men and women from around the world that try to help victims of human trafficking, told from the perspective of Jason, a lawyer who has left his family in Canada to try and navigate his way through a Bangkok brothel in an attempt to gather evidence and build a legal case against them for trafficking girls into Bangkok.  A particularly strong perspective if you ask me, as it reminded me of the turmoils that the men who try to help go through too.

 

She Has A Name Tours Canada from Unveil Studios on Vimeo.

 

In leaving this play, it left me wanting to do something to help, beyond telling all my friends to go see the play (which you all should do or if it’s not currently playing in in your area, get one of your local theatres to invite them).  This is a story we all should hear and think about for these women, children (and men) often have no voice of their own and no one to hear their screams.  How very scary is that.  Here I live a life where I can speak my mind on politics, religion and all sorts of other contentious topics, without fear.  A life where I was able to choose when to share my body with another and with whom, and I can assure you that was not at the tender age of 10 or 15, but when I was an adult, ready and at least thought I was in love.  Thinking of having such acts forced upon me sickens me and further terrifies me to think that for these women, children, (and men), they have no one to seek help from.  But what does one do to help?  This is after all a very dangerous issue.  A couple of things that occur to me more superficially in my own life:

  • Don’t laugh or accept that ever so disgusting mantra of “What happens in Vegas (or Whistler or any number of other places) stays in Vegas.”  The things we do when on the road do affect others, and very real people, like the women, children (and men) in brothels and your lovers back home, can be hurt by them.  If you wouldn’t do something at home for moral reasons or fear of what others would think if they saw, then you probably shouldn’t do them on the road.  And while many of us are not guilty of such things, we likely have laughed at the line of “what happens on the road, stays on the road.” Stop laughing and start telling people it’s not cool.
  • Ladies (and men) – be careful and aware of your surroundings and how you are being perceived within them.  Traveling is a wonderful thing, but don’t put yourself into danger.  Just like with men, some women see traveling as an opportunity to be more promiscuous. Be careful, as you don’t want to put yourself or others in danger for ‘a bit of fun’.

 

There is absolutely nothing sexy or titillating about Sex Tourism. Those that partake are creating somebody else’s nightmare. Photo by Kelsey Krogman from She Has A Name.

 

On a broader scale, the play She Has A Name has given us some ideas on how we can help the victims of human trafficking and sex slavery, as from Play It Forward and encouraging others to see it. Here are their suggestions:

1. Write your MP and sign a petition
It’s not glamorous, but it’s effective.  Let your MP know that as your representative you want them to be a strong voice against human trafficking. Visit www.shehasaname.net/respond/write-and-petition to find out your MP’s address and to learn about petitions you can print and share with others and send to Parliament, urging government to change the way we address the crime of trafficking in Canada.

2. Give to our partner project in Thailand
Home of New Beginnings is a safe-house in Bangkok that helps children and women leave the sex trade and begin new lives. You can read more at www.homeofnewbeginnings.com and donate online at www.a-better-world.ca – click on the Canada Helps “Donate Now” button, then select Fund/Designation as “Specify Project in Message Box” and then enter “She Has A Name” in the message field. You may also telephone A Better World Canada at 403.782.1140.

3. Fuel the Tour
If this story impacted you, help us ensure we make it across the country so more Canadians can engage the issue.  You can donate mileage or fuel the tour vehicle between cities at www.shehasaname.net/fuel-the-tour.

4. Connect with Organizations Combatting Trafficking
Learn more about the issue and then volunteer your time and resources to bring change in a way that utilizes your unique gifts.  Your life is so valuable, and we firmly believe you will experience great meaning as you use your gifts to change real stories of despair into real stories of hope!  View a list of great organizations at www.shehasaname.net/organizations.

5. Report warning signs of human trafficking

  • in your community, at work, when traveling to: Crime Stoppers 1.800.222.8477 (1.800.222.TIPS)
  • online child sexual abuse imagery, child sex tourism, child trafficking, and child luring to: The Canadian Centre for Child Protection.

 

Give victims of Sex Tourism, like No. 18 in She Has A Name, hope. Photographed by Kelsey Krogman.

 

If you are in Vancouver, I encourage you to catch the final production of She Has A Name tonight at 9:30 pm at the Firehall Arts Centre. The next stops on their Canadian Tour are Kelowna (September 18th-21st), Edmonton (September 25th-30th) and Red Deer (October 2nd-6th).

Remember She Has A Name.  Help give these women, children (and men) a voice and combat sex tourism.

Ben Jonson’s The Alchemist at Jericho Arts Centre

Though there are only a few days left to see Ben Jonson‘s, The Alchemist, at the Jericho Arts Centre, I thought it was an important play-experience to share with theatre lovers in Vancouver. I say this simply because it is rare to find Renaissance theatre in the city that a) is written by a playwright other than Shakespeare, and b) feels like some sort of bizarre amusement park ride with elaborate schemes that go impossibly far, long tracts of fabulous lies improvised by lovable rogues, especially delightful word play and a few real explosions besides. Ensemble Theatre‘s production reminds us that Shakespeare was one of the many great playwrights of his time, Ben Jonson being another popular contemporary and rival.

The Alchemist tells the story of a few conning masterminds (Face, Subtle, and the beguiling Dol Common) working together to gip anyone who will believe into handing over their cash for the promise of boundless riches to come. All three undertake whirlwind of character changes throughout the play as part of their scheming. Each sorry client that knocks on their door is conned with individual attention paid to their particular dispositions, desires, and weaknesses.

 

Director Tariq Leslie as Face in Ensemble Theatre's "The Alchemist"

 

I loved how the director and cast altered some of the characters to look like caricatures for the modern audience to laugh at. I particularly enjoyed the weed smoking surfer dude who fell for promises of lucky trading, all with the calm, good-natured optimism one can only put down to help from the magic root.

Dol Common spends most of the play in some very attractive lingerie, making sure the men do their part in the gold-getting scheme with a whip, and a tongue that acts much like one. As the professor that spoke at the talkback after the show pointed out, we are never invited to feel sorry for the characters getting cheated, as they do so while blinded by their own greed, or gullibility, or desire for an impossibly easy ride. Instead we laugh at them, enjoy their little weaknesses and overreaching ambitions, and recognize our own weaknesses in the easily-cheated folk. Rich or poor, none are immune to the promises of greater wealth and prosperity, even though it is delivered by means of some incomprehensible magic, explained in colourful pseudo-scientific, mystical language in the play. Freedom from the tyranny of hard work and tough circumstance unites many of the characters, including the alchemists themselves. Some are even drawn into their promises from easy circumstances for dreams of more, and even more plenty. Appetites grow to accommodate the offering, and this is the secret to the con artists’ success.

I think we don’t feel sorry for the defrauded because it seems to me that Face, Subtle and Dol earn every penny in the tireless, customized performances they give to everyone who approaches them with the hope for more. Sometimes they have to change in and out of character so quickly I can barely keep my head on straight. Face’s many hats and personas alone would have been enough to entertain me for several evenings. The cast is energetic and engaged in this spirited performance, and when I went the house was friendly, entertained and laughing as the plot lurched into areas of greater and greater improbability.  I’d recommend this play to anyone who wanted to spend a light evening being amused, tickled, titillated frequently shaking with laughter. And to top all of that: somehow, the director and cast found a way to bring out a Dora the Explorer Snuggie as one of the props during one of the play’s more serious moments.

Thanks to Ensemble Theatre’s cast and crew for a highly amusing ride. Particularly memorable in the cast are: Tariq Lesie, Trevor Devall and Joey Bothwell  (as Face, Subtle and Dol Common), William Hopkins (as Dapper the lawyer), Aaron Turner (as Drugger the dispenser), and Matthew Bisset (as Sir Epicure Mammon, a knight).

Ensemble Theatre‘s The Alchemist runs nightly at 8 pm until Saturday July 28 at the Jericho Arts Centre in Vancouver.

Rent! in Vancouver with Fighting Chance Production

The full cast! (Photo Credit: Jennifer Kuhl)

 

Last Thursday, I had the privilege of seeing Fighting Chance Production’s rendition of Rent performed on stage at the Waterfront Theatre. It was the first time I’d seen the musical on stage. My previous exposure was in the heat of my awkward teenage years (which are taking their sweet time leaving the nest), when my mother took me to see the film adaptation; we love going to the movies together and this was one of the many we’ve gone to see. I don’t remember why we chose this one, but I loved it. I bought the DVD when it came out, and I had the soundtrack. By the time I hit my second year of high school though, the shine wore off a bit and though I tend to retain a fondness for everything I liked when I was in middle school, I didn’t really think much about Rent apart from having some of the songs blaring in my mind every once in a while.

 

The disgruntled homeless. (Photo Credit: Jennifer Kuhl)

 

It was definitely a very different experience on stage! Ultimately, it was delightful, though it took me some time to stop visualizing the film and appreciate the stage production for what it was. I saw the show with Emme and when we were talking afterwardS she told me she didn’t like the film version of the show; I can’t say I think the same, since I did enjoy the film very much. The stage version is the source material for the film, but it was decently adapted and at least worked for me when I was younger. I saw a bit of it again to refresh my memory recently, and though it has its patchy bits, it mostly holds up well.

 

Brilliant view of the set. (Photo Credit: Jennifer Kuhl)

 

However, as it must have been for fans of the stage when the film came into being, I couldn’t really help but make comparisons. Mind you, the first thing that sparked comparison in my mind was the opening scene, and the stage version brought a lighthearted charm to the story’s opening scene that the film didn’t even attempt to capture. The film had the luxury of simply showing two of the central characters, Mark and Roger, living in their loft without having to give them a scene where they point out the amenities of the place, such as their illegal wood-burning stove, and describe the place in such a way that I believe they were trying to mockingly present it as one would a palace. Especially seeing as the set was rather minimalistic compared with the sets and location shooting options available to the film version, it helped bring the setting for much of the first act to life and, along with the little voice mail numbers that were either modified or did not make it into the film at all, brought a touch of sillyness to the show that I truly loved. The film (which, unlike the version of the stage incarnation I saw, actually opens with Seasons of Love and then segues into “Rent” right away) made use of Mark’s accumulating footage throughout the film and a spectacle out of the “Rent” number by having the performers burn up their eviction notices and let them fall gently from their windows; these were things I missed from the adaptation, though the flaming eviction notices possibly didn’t carry over because it could cause a major fire hazard. I would assume.

 

Chelsea Tucker as Maureen. (Photo Credit: Jennifer Kulh)

 

One thing I found worked better on stage than in the film was Maureen’s protest, a sort of Hey Diddle Diddle inspired allegory protesting her performance space being taken away to be transformed into a ‘cyber café’. This sequence was possibly the least beloved for me when I saw it on film, but on stage it somehow came off as… charming in its hokeyness. Part of it could have been Chelsea Tucker’s masterful rendering of the character; she nailed her almost comical primadonna attitude, in my opinion, and it was a joy to see her character on stage every time. But the stripped-down nature of the stage production and the different atmosphere made it a bit less unbearable than the larger-than-life treatment the performance gets in the film, complete with Maureen biking into the performance.

 

Emily Canavan as Mimi. She was sublime. (Photo credit: Jennifer Kuhl)

 

This brings me to part of the reason I was interested in seeing the show at all: I was curious to see how it would differ from the film and how it would be the same, what the adaptation changed and what it left out altogether. I would have been a little disappointed if everything was the same, really. At the heart of it, the story was the same and the messages, patchy on their own right or not depending on what came through strongest … I love the Rent’s core theme of treasuring your life and living with as much hope as possible even if your days are numbered, not so wild on the glorification of the ‘starving artist’ lifestyle. I almost cried at the end, as I did watching the film! (I rarely cry for real, so almost crying is as good as actually shedding tears as far as I’m concerned.) I can’t say which I enjoyed more, since they both had their ups and downs, but either way I had a good time at the show!

You can catch Fighting Chance Production’s version of Rent on stage at Granville Island’s Waterfront Theatre in Vancouver Tuesday to Sunday nights at 8 pm, now until August 18th, 2012 with matinees at 2 pm on Saturdays and Sundays. Get your tickets here.

 

Souvenirs from a wonderful night.

Richard III at Bard on the Beach in Vancouver, BC

With tickets going on sale tomorrow, March 19th, for the 2012 Season of Bard on the Beach running from May 31st – September 22nd, 2012 in Vancouver, BC, we thought it was the perfect time to share a post Alyzee Lakhani wrote at the end of the 2011 Season, on her experience at Richard III.  And without further adieu, I give you Alyzee …

 

I want to thank Dr. Katherine Sirluck for teaching me to appreciate Shakespeare and love theatre. It is her brilliant instruction that gave me the sensitivity to be so moved by Richard III and other plays. Richard III was the first play I studied in her class.

 

Richard III is one of my favourite tragic heroes from Shakespeare, so I made sure to see one of the performances at the Bard on the Beach Shakespeare Festival this past summer. Even though going to watch a tragedy may not sound like the most summery of activities — especially while the beaches beckon as they do  — I was thoroughly glad I went. Not only because it was a beautiful performance, but because I think theatre has the power to change something within myself; create a little shift in how I view the world, treat myself and others, and in some way perhaps difficult to describe. This may not apply to all theatre, and all plays of course — but I do find it true of much of Shakespeare, even simply in the reading of his plays. I know that Shakespeare was trying to change society through theatre, and he is such a masterful stirrer of emotions that I cannot go to a well-done play of his without feeling somewhat changed by it.

That’s why I think it’s important to watch tragedies (comedies too, but for different reasons) — because they change something within the audience through the emotions it stirs up.  Richard III elicits compassion for nearly everyone involved in the play, particularly the ‘villainous’ protagonist. Though it is his cruelty that is the focus of the plot,  we cannot but appreciate how it arises from Richard’s profound hurt. From what we learn in the play, he has been shunned, ridiculed, villainized, and isolated since, it seems, the day he was born — even his own mother, in a heartbreaking moment, jeeringly imitates her son’s congenital limp and bent posture. How can we blame him for being absolutely livid? How often has a kind word been said to him? Certainly we see very little kindness offered to Richard in the play, except by those who fear his power or want to share in it.

 

Richard (Bob Frazer) in RICHARD III, Bard on the Beach 2011. Photo: David Blue.

 

But this one of the most endearing things about Richard: he doesn’t want power for it’s own sake, like many other political figures in the play. Rather, he chases it to fulfill some kind of gnawing restlessness, that I’m sure even he can’t quite name. When he gets the crown he is visibly baffled about why he still feels insecure, dissatisfied, unloved, and angry . . .  frustrated, he continues to kill and destroy, trying to find something to satisfy him in self-aggrandizement and destruction. And why shouldn’t he? Everyone hates him already: why not play the villain? It seems the only recourse he has to some amount of respect and and friendship, however warped, is plotting and being dangerous.  Perhaps it is the only way he knows.

Soon after the play begins, we are aware that it is too late to avert the the series of events that lead to one disaster after another in the play — at the beginning of the play, his pain is already so acute that he is full of the hate that pushes others away from him. While real kindness might help Richard, his villainy removes the possibility of receiving kindness from those around him: kindness is probably a near-impossible response in a grieving mother to her children’s murderer. The play’s action is driving itself — we see few moments, if any, where the fate of its characters could have been changed. Meanwhile Richard thinks he is acting in his own best interests, when it is not until the soliloquy in the final act that inadvertently reveals to himself that he isn’t even on his own side. The following lines are, in an exquisite nutshell, why I feel for Richard so strongly.

 

What do I fear? Myself? There’s none else by.

Richard loves Richard; that is, I am I.

Is there a murderer here? No. Yes, I am.

Then fly! What, from myself? [...]

Alack, I love myself. Wherefore? …

O no, alas, I rather hate myself

For hateful deeds committed by myself.

I am a villain. (5.5 136-145).

 

At this moment in the play, even repentance cannot save Richard from his fate — one that was created by an anger that I think arose from the consistent mistreatment of others.  In this way even Richard is not fully responsible for his own actions. He is not a ‘villain’ alone — his anger, hunger, blood-lust, were cultivated by the insensitivity that surrounded him.

Needless to say this play produces a deep regret that things end up the way they do.  The important part of this play, and what I think is the important part of watching tragedies in general, even when it’s sunny out — is that it makes the audience desperately rack their brains about how the play’s disasters could have been avoided.

 

Lady Anne (Melissa Dionisio) is wooed by Richard (Bob Frazer) in RICHARD III, Bard on the Beach 2011. Photo: David Blue

 

It begs the questions: When did it go to far? What, if anything, could have been communicated, and when? What are the reasons that this character wanted to commit violence in the first place, and who or what is responsible for his being so hurt as to want to hurt others? Perhaps the point-of-no return is not even anywhere in the play — this gives me something to contemplate. And it definitely influences the level of empathy I am able to extend to others — even if their actions seem cruel or malicious. It makes me wonder about any ‘villains’ — what more is there to their story? And it reinforces the life-giving belief in myself that people are ultimately good.

I have to admit I was a little bit apprehensive about seeing Richard III performed. Because I love the the play, it would hurt to see a disappointing production. But Kathryn Shaw’s production at Bard on the Beach was wonderful — in so many big and subtle ways, it brought the play to life. Seeing this performance has emboldened me to watch Macbeth at Bard on the Beach next year — predictably, another play and protagonist that has a special place among the things I love. And the Witches! The Witches! There, I’m already excited about next summer.