A few of my favourite things

At last. The veggies are seeded in the garden, the fruit trees are in flower, and the final show of our season has closed. Here at ATP, we're hiring the approximately 90 artists whose work you'll see next season; following up with our subscribers and reaching out to new ones; securing contributions from donors and sponsors; and gearing up for Sneak-a-Peek, a free event on June 13, at 5:30 pm in the Martha Cohen Theatre, where you can get a taste of next season and meet some of the artists involved. Come one come all!

The artistic team is even spending some time planning further ahead, for the 12/13 season and beyond.

We retreat to the Banff Playwrights Colony for a half-day of Important Strategic Planning, followed by some Important Soaking in the Spa.

But before the summer swooshes us away, Here's a non-exhaustive list of a few of my favourite moments from this past year.

There was the time our spirits lifted, when, in the middle of an arduous rehearsal for The Penelopiad, Meg Roe would say cheerfully, "Ok, my ladybirds, are you ready? Let's do it again!" to the 10 actresses playing maids, as they practiced and practiced and practiced the weaving sequence. Imagine eleven people, singing 3 part harmony in a 4 part canon, while rotating, circling and handing off rope to each other to weave an enormous shroud. It took some doing. But in the end, it was one of my favourite parts of the show.

Kathi Kerbes, Esther Purvis Smith, Vanessa Sabourin, Jamie Konchak, Elinor Holt, Meg Roe, Adrienne Smook, Janelle Cooper, Lindsay Mullen, Alison Lynch, Denise Clark, photo courtesy Trudie Lee

Another favourite moment: the hush that fell every night during The Last Dog of War, when Linda Griffiths, in the time-roughened voice of her father, would start to sing:

"...Time, like an ever rolling stream,

Bears all its sons away...

They fly, forgotten, as a dream

Dies at the opening day."

On a break during technical rehearsals for Seussical™ The Musical, I spotted the young performer Marcus Trummer when he thought no one was watching. He was standing on stage, stretching his arms out to the theatre, rocking on his heels with pure happiness. I'm pretty sure I caught Dave Kelly once, doing the same thing. What a pair those two made: peas in a pod.

Dave Kelly & Marcus Trummer, photo credit Trudie Lee.

The Enbridge playRites Festival was a three month blur of moments. There was that awesome catered lunch in the ATP office, prepared and served by Festival actor Lindsay Burns. Thank you Lindsay!

Lance Olson and company actor Lindsay Burns

Then there was that time, on first preview of The Romeo Initiative, when the revolving set rolled past its spike, and then lurched back into position, surprising everyone. As the actors tried to keep pretending they were on a first date at a restaurant, Christian Goutsis improvised a line to Kira Bradley: "I love this place," he said. 



ATP sound technician Sam Hindle and Festival set designer Scott Reid



There was that magic moment in the green room on opening of Nisei Blue. We were gathered for the traditional toast to the playwright, our champagne glasses at the ready. Director Ron Jenkins strode in, moved and passionate. "...you're all, so, so great," he said, among other eloquent things, "...and here, Momoka," he concluded, shoving a twenty dollar bill into the eight-year-old performer's hand, "just, take it, it's for the swear jar - for all those times - it's your college fund by now - I owe you big time."



After the dress rehearsal of 300 TAPES, I remember peering at those crazy rolling shelves on the set, amazed at all the personal recollections that were carefully recorded, stored and labelled, each on its own little cassette.

This next thing wasn't exactly a wonderful moment, but in retrospect at least, it does have an upside. It was 7:28 pm, on the opening night of Heartbreaker by Morwyn Brebner, directed by yours truly. I was standing stiffly in the lobby by the main entrance to the auditorium, clutching my purse between my sweating fingers. While various patrons came up to visit, blissfully unaware there was anything awry, I knew that just behind the doors, a team of ATP technicians and hastily summoned experts were desperately trying to figure out why, between the afternoon rehearsal and the end of dinner break, the projector had ceased to function.

Maybe you're wondering what the upside to that awful half hour could possibly be. Well, everyone pulled together, both on stage and behind the scenes; no one screamed; no one panicked; we stayed cool and did what we could. In the end, we performed the opening without projections. The actors told the story beautifully. A spell was cast. Ultimately, it's about the words, the actors, and the audience. Everything else is extra.

This is what the projections looked like. Beautiful, right?
Kira Bradley, set and projections by Scott Reid, photo: Trudie Lee

Then, during rehearsals for Don Juan, there was that day when a young high-school student walked in for his 'job shadowing' opportunity, just at the exact moment we were experimenting with some fairly over-the-top ideas for the, you know, climactic moment in the sequence with the dogs. Life-long learning, indeed.

Anne Lalancette, Don Brinstead, and I, exploring tantric staging options

On the opening night of Mump & Smoot CRACKED, I was watching the show from standing room on Tier 2. Mump and Smoot were saying farewell. I became aware of a well-dressed gentleman seated in the row in front of me. He was wiping the tears from his face with one hand while trying to keep his glasses on with the other, so he wouldn't miss a minute of the action. I too was rubbing my opening night mascara into two dark splodges as I tried to control my weeping. When the lights came up, I saw that it was David Shefsiek, our new Managing Director, who had been so moved by the show.

Have a great summer, drop us a line, and when the tomatoes ripen and the leaves start to turn, we'll see you back at the theatre!

- Vanessa