Anger: an Ingredient for Art

Someone I respect recently said to me that people who want to create theatre – or art in general – have to be angry about something. I never really thought about anger being the driving force behind my creative process. In fact, I initially dismissed this idea as reductive and even insulting in the way that it stereotyped “artists”. However, upon further reflection, I realized that I am, in fact, quite an angry person, deeply dissatisfied with the way things are.

"I realized that I am, in fact, quite an angry person, deeply dissatisfied with the way things are."

So, the next question in my mind is: what makes theatre a helpful outlet for this anger? Is it a helpful outlet? Speaking from experience, stage managers usually have too many things to do to even think about their own emotions. It is not their job to be emotional; if it was, they would be on stage. If anything, sometimes theatre can be more of a source of anger than an outlet! Stage managers work countless hours to keep a production on track, do what they can to make everyone involved happy, and ensure that the director’s vision is respected and maintained. At the end of the night, everyone goes home, or to a bar, while the stage manager puts away the chairs and tables that he/she set up before anyone even arrived, turns the lights off, locks up the space, and goes to type up a report about what happened in the day. Involved as they are in the creation of a show, they are usually only witnesses – caring observers – watching from behind a glass window in a sound proof room.

This probably sounds pretty depressing. Why would any creative person want such a job? Well, there can be something profoundly gratifying about the final result. One show that I recently worked on made me feel extreme degrees of both resentment and satisfaction. I went from actually doubting that this career path is even worth it (something I thought was impossible for me to ever think) to realizing how amazing it really can be. True, I do not want to calculate how much I got paid (or rather, should have gotten paid) for the hours I invested, but that is beside the point. When I got to see audiences respond to the show, and leave the theatre feeling somehow inspired, everything I had done up to that point immediately became worthwhile.

Anyway, I suppose a kind of energy conversion happened at some point. Frustration, annoyance, doubt, regret, all kind of rolled up together and somehow turned into a sold-out show that people loved, which obviously made us all very happy. It is true that the sweet can only exist with a bit of sourness. So, to go back to the original question, what does theatre do for angry people? Basically, it allows us to use the sourness and make some sour candy for everyone to enjoy!

…and now, I need to go get something sweet…

Shakespeare was right…

It is the eve before the opening of “Addicted” at the Second Storey Theatre in Port Coquitlam. I cannot describe the extent of the honour I feel in being able to Direct the Canadian Debut of such an impactful story.

I have learned so much from this process. The bonds I have built with my fellow cast and crew will live with me forever. I have experienced so much personal healing, love and friendship through the journey of making this story ready for the stage. I believe it is the purpose of theatre to do these things. Theatre is an art like nothing else; it allows us to share our soul and truth in moments of raw vulnerability without a safety net or protective equipment. Theatre has the power to change lives in one instant while simply entertaining in the next. Shakespeare had it right, “all the world is a stage and all the men and women merely players.” Theatre is life.

None of it is possible without the audience… Without you there would be no point in telling the story. You are the alpha and omega of our work and for that I extend my deepest gratitude.

Shakespeare had it right, "All the world is a stage and all the men and woman merely players."

I must thank Richard for his unwavering dedication to be on the spot and torn apart every single rehearsal for more than 10 hours each week. The process of a regular stage play has moments of challenge, in a one-man-show, challenge is a monumental understatement. The degree of vulnerability and risk you demonstrate on stage every second of this journey garners my utmost respect and admiration. I am so very proud of you.

I thank Diana for her dynamic ability to support me in my Directorial process that I am sure often resembles a convention of ADD sufferers. No one has ever quite harnessed the talent to “click” with me in the creative process like she does. Without your ability to be everything that I lack, I would have been lost.

Thanks to Brad for bringing me and this show on board with Third Degree Theatre. The mandate to attract new and seasoned audience to theatre and impact them with art has been the perfect stage for “Addicted”. I love this company and hope that we continue to affect our audiences in these ways for years to come. Your professionalism, support and talent for producing will be the cogs that make Third Degree Theatre everything it can be.

And finally, thank you to Mark Lundholm for not only living the life has been able to touch so many but for courageously telling your story with honesty and sincerity. Thank you for trusting us to carry your message to our community and use your words to connect addicts like us with “healthy” people in the hopes of reminding us simply that we are ALL human. You continue to be a hero to me.

Addicted: A Comedy of Substance
Written by Mark Lundholm
Directed by Aaron S. Davis
Performed by Richard Wiens

May 27, 28, 29, June 4 and 5
Second Storey Theatre
#201-2550 Shaughnessy Street, Port Coquitlam, BC
Doors @ 7:30pm Curtain @ 8:00pm
Tickets $15/$10 advance or $20/15 at the door
Get advance tickets at www.thirddegreetheatre.ca

Trailer for Addicted: A comedy of substance

Written by Mark Lundholm
Directed by Aaron S. Davis
Performed by Richard Wiens

Performed by talented actor, Richard Wiens and Directed by Aaron S. Davis, Third Degree Theatre presents the Canadian debut of the smash hit comedy Addicted. Written by Mark Lundholm, Americas favourite recovering drug addict turned comedian, this one man show is about making choices, and second chances. It’s fiercely funny and severely dysfunctional. This powerfully dramatic stage play is a bridge between recovery and regular folks, and skewers the disease of addiction in every form. Lundholm wrote this play based on personal experience. Clean and sober since 1988, Mark Lundholm is a former criminal, mental patient, homeless wino, resident in a halfway house who started poking fun at the insanity his life had become. The New York Times called it “riveting, dark and funny!”

May 27, 28, 29, June 4 and 5
Second Storey Theatre
#201-2550 Shaughnessy St., Port Coquitlam
Doors @ 7:30pm Curtain @ 8:00pm
Tickets $15/$10 advance or $20/15 at the door

MORE INFORMATION – www.thirddegreetheatre.ca

Produced under special arrangement from Mark Lundholm Enterprises, Inc.

Fear and Theatre Don’t Mix

Well, my intention was to start my post by sarcastically praising men’s superior laziness because I’d been the last one to blog, but Aaron just ruined that. To top it all off, what he said in his post made it hard for me to be even remotely sardonic. The truth is that I’ve wanted to write about different things over the past few days, but no point has really materialized in my mind. Then again, I know that I won’t suddenly have some genial revelation if I just sit on these ideas. So, here’s my attempt…

theatre forces us to be honest and uninhibited: both rare, and at times unwelcome, qualities to have in "the real world".

It appears that the topic that I keep coming back to is shame. Mark talks a lot about fear, and well, isn’t shame just a form of fear? People are ashamed because they fear others’ disapproval and inability to understand whatever it is they keep hidden. Sadly, I think that pain is something our society is generally afraid and – worse yet – ashamed of. Boys don’t cry, right? Sure, that stance may not be as prevalent nowadays, but it’s still present. We also seem to have an expiry date for pain. There is a point when people figure you’ve grieved enough,  but if you weren’t done, you begin to get the added bonus of being ashamed of it.

I’ve read Buddhist literature about accepting suffering as something intrinsic in life, instead of fearing it, but it’s probably one of the hardest things to do. I think actors require this same openness when they create a character; and I have to say: I have a deep respect for anyone who can embrace emotions so freely.  Most – if not every – rehearsal has left me affected in some way, and I essentially just take notes! Don’t get me wrong;  I know my work is important. I just appreciate what delving into the mind and body of another person must do to the self – especially in this case. I’m just looking into the pool, but to try swimming in it…that takes serious courage. Fear is not an option.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that theatre forces us to be honest and uninhibited: both rare, and at times unwelcome, qualities to have in “the real world”. For an art form that aims to deceive its audience, I think that theatre is the most sincere of them all. It is intensely liberating. Although I’d been in love with it a long time, I know that what actually made me dive headfirst into it was feeling unbearable pain. Theatre was the one remedy that not only didn’t feel self-destructive, but actually felt productive! There was no shame in it. So, I’m content with my addiction. Most of the time I can’t believe stage management is a “job”. All I can do once I’m calling the show is hope that the people who come see it really see it, because that connection is truly powerful.

Now for the plug: “Addicted” is a brutally honest and a fantastically told story. Working on it has been a very personal, closely knit process, which I believe is making it a very strong and pretty phenomenal piece of theatre. For anyone who values honesty and isn’t afraid of mirrors (figuratively speaking), come see it!

Doing Homework

I see that our supposedly weekly blog has become bi-weekly, which is not good, but I’ll get myself into the habit of writing more often. It has been a good couple of weeks – pretty eventful for me. We’ve had some interesting rehearsals. In fact, our last one was in a racquetball court, which certainly made for interesting acoustics! If you’re wondering why on Earth we would do that, the answer is: hockey (i.e. unavailable living room). Hopefully things will be back on track after next week . We’ve had to reschedule a few rehearsals already on account of sickness, school, and improv nights. Despite that though, I think we’re making some decent progress. As Richard mentioned, he doesn’t always play just Mark, but the other characters he plays definitely have a distinct presence now.

"...when these people started talking about their thoughts and feelings, or just telling stories, I felt more at ease."

Thinking about what we’ve done in the past week, what stands out the most for me is a particular evening of research. We got the chance to listen to some people who are currently in recovery, and it was nothing short of amazing. At first, it was very intimidating; to say that I felt out-of-place would be an understatement.  But when these people started talking about their thoughts and feelings, or just telling stories, I felt more at ease. The stories were not always ones that I could relate to, but I loved hearing them and how they’ve helped turn lives around completely.

Dramatic as it may sound, it has taken some time for me to absorb and digest everything that we heard that night. That’s not to say that I was traumatized or something – not at all! On the contrary, I feel so many positive things. For one, I feel compassion and admiration for the people who shared their stories and exposed themselves without shame. That takes so much courage. I also feel relieved to know, for example, that existential crises are more common than I thought, which is extremely comforting! When it comes to “Addicted”, I feel more distant and yet somehow closer to Mark. I am a lot more aware of how different we are, but I’ve also gotten a deeper understanding of what he is talking about.

In conclusion (excuse the academic tone), researching Mark’s world has proven to be quite valuable for me – as a stage manager and a person – as well as inspiring. I feel so lucky and excited to be part of this production!

Addicted to the Challenge

Well this is my first ever attempt at a blog, it is also my first ever attempt at a 1-man show so I figure this is 2 birds with one stone.

When Aaron first approached me with the script, I was already very interested just from the way he described it. Then once I read it, I knew that I wanted to be a part of it. I was excited about not only playing a real live person, but a person I could relate to, even though he is so very different from myself. I didn’t come from a world where there were a lot of addicts. Sure, like everyone I know of some and even have 1 or 2 in my extended family. But to dive into someones world so different from my own was going to prove (and is proving) to be a challenge. However the more I read and the deeper I look, the I more I realize that 1 or 2 different turns in my life and I could have been LIVING Mark’s life, not just playing it. This play relates to me in ways I didn’t think it could and my hope in doing this show is that it will do the same for those who see it. Maybe leave them thinking “Hey, that could have been me!”

Rehearsing for a 1-man show isn’t really as easy as I thought it would be. I was thinking I wouldn’t have to rely on rehearsing with anyone, no other characters to do something wrong and screw me up. Quite the contrary. This may be a 1-man-er, but when the story introduces upwards of 10 characters (7 of which show up in 1 scene), my focus is no longer just on how do I portray Mark, but all the others as well. And sitting there with only 2 other people (most of the time) in the room is very nerve racking. Aaron, my Director, is watching every move I make to see what he likes or what I can change. Which kind of makes him like that really cool guy in high school, I just want him to like everything I do. Diana, the Stage Manager, hardly ever has her nose out of her binder. She’s taking down ever little note, every little error, every little piece of information that might be relevent. But when there are only 2 people watching, she now becomes that girl you just want to notice you, however if she does, you know you’re going to be thinking “Oh crap!!! She’s looking at me!” Thus far it has been a fun experience and I look forward to putting it on in front of an audience.

On one little separate side note, if I may rant for a moment, any of you planning on doing a 1-man show in the future, sign that contract first because apparently a verbal agreement to getting me my own trailer doesn’t mean that I’ll really get my own trailer! That being said, I’m probably not getting my own star on the sidewalk….oh well!!

Until next time, enjoy

Addicted to Stage Management

I’m sure too many people start blogging by talking about how strange the whole blogging experience is for them, so I’ll skip that part and dive straight into what I’m actually here to talk about: a fantastic little show called “Addicted: A Comedy of Substance.”

Honestly, when I thought about what stage managing this show would mean for me, my time, and my personal life, I was pretty convinced that taking it on was probably not the best idea…that is, until I read the script. It didn’t take long for me to realize how important it was to tell this story because it was surprisingly close to my heart. I was amazed at how much a 21-year-old scholarship-earning university student, raised by extremely loving, supportive parents, in an upper middle class setting, could identify with Mark Lundholm. I wasn’t seeing him as a case study in a psychology class; I was seeing him as someone very dear to me who simply made different choices.

The moment that cemented my absolute necessity to be part of this project was when Aaron, our director, was talking about perceived reflections, and what an addict might see when standing in front of a mirror. Well, I’m not sure exactly what happened in that moment, but I suddenly felt my eyes starting to well up with tears, and I KNEW this wasn’t just another play.

Having worked with both Aaron and Richard last November, the past few rehearsals have felt like being home again. Sure, the tone of this show is completely different, and a three-person rehearsal taking place in a living room is also unlike what we’ve done in the past. At the same time though, this kind of intimate situation demands that the work be personal for all of us, so the fact that we know each other has made it easy to just delve into the script without hesitation, which in itself is extremely valuable.

Anyway, I’m extremely excited to see our one-man show come to fruition and I’m enjoying every step of the way. Keep checking back for tales about the production of this tragically hilarious (or hilariously tragic?) show. Until next time!