review. 887 by Robert Lepage @ Canadian Stage

It has taken me a little while to write about this show, in part because I was wondering whether the feeling of awe would subside; whether I might come to a point in my reflections on the play where is began to see cracks in the surface. Alas, a week on, and there are none. 

Lepage is a master storyteller, completely in control of the simplicity of the story and his means of telling it at all times. Starting out speaking colloquially, he slips into the world of the play so seamlessly that once the audience realize, there is a collective gasp -- upon the first reveal of the set. We spiral into the world with him, one of memory and recollection, wherein he parallels his own childhood memories of people, most importantly his father, with a story of his own desire to be remembered in a certain way. 

Lepage's ingenious set design makes use of his love of live video in a striking way, illuminating the spaces he is talking about on a physical space with life -- causing us to ponder the simultaneously static and living nature of our memories of people. They remain the same, and yet change, almost unknown to us. Along with this, his use of perspective helps further this story of how we perceive and therefore how we remember. Lepage, the adult reflecting backward looms large over the apartment building, while Lepage the small child in the memory is towered over by the image of the soldier, brilliantly realized through camera angle and its relationship to a pair of boots. 

Despite all of the stage magic and technology, every moment, every image comes across as completely simple and effortless. Even the use of smell, moving from a moment with firecrackers in a metal bin, to rolling in boxes of memories seems almost accidental. But rest assured, not a single thing that transpired on the stage was accidental, each moment carefully planned and yet seeming to be a surprise even to Lepage himself. 

Another layer, of course, is the inherently Canadian story Lepage tells, weaving between French and English, manifesting the conflict of the play through nothing smaller than the French/English conflict present even today in Canada, and most certainly in 1960's Quebec. Through the use of Michèle Lalonde's Speak White, a stunning climactic moment in the performance by Lepage, every anxiety and inadequacy of "canadian-ness" came to light; particularly poignant in the face of the Canada 150 celebrations. What version of Canada are we celebrating? 

I'm truly honoured to have seen not only this master's work, but performed by the master himself. This will not soon leave my memory. 

review. The Seer by Zach Closs - Commonplacetheatre

Apologies for sharing thoughts after this one has closed. 

The Seer starts with an image of desolation; a woman and a man are attached to one another by a rope, both tattered and appearing worn down. It takes a moment to adjust, in the darkness, as we hear 3 voices, but see only two forms. All becomes clear momentarily, although the gift of this piece is that it rarely explains, but rather lets you surmise on your own. Director Chantel Martin uses this unconventional space well, situating a variety of locations at different physical areas of the open room, allowing the audience to move where they feel they'd like to. Standing throughout the 60 minute piece, this enables the audience to feel a bit of the same exhaustion the characters are feeling, serving to engage us further. 

At times the story was reminiscent of Caryl Churchill's Far Away, with its almost episodic nature and lack of explanation. The three characters are related, but we don't know how, or why, and are desperate to learn. It did run the risk of dragging, but again, this was cleverly avoided by Martin's inventive staging and use of immersive theatre techniques. The space itself became a character in telling us a part of the story.

review. The Orange Dot by Sean Dixon @ Theatrefront

It is less common than you'd think to see a piece of new Canadian writing that is as highly stylized as Sean Dixon's The Orange Dot. Borrowing a structure from Beckett's Waiting For Godot and Ionesco's The Lesson, Dixon has created a world which is not as it seems, in which inane conversation and repetition, two classic absurdist techniques, are made to seem normal, until suddenly they aren't. Discussions of pop culture and daily city life, the back and forth banter of Joe and Nat, seem like an inane play at first, leaving the audience wondering why they are bothering, and yet we stay, we watch. Slowly the world starts to crumble, and the inane begins to be more clear, but by time we realize it is happening, things are well off course and deep into the absurd. 

That is the thing that is most difficult about the absurdist style. How can the shifts away from normalcy be clear and concise, and yet not telegraph to the audience what lies ahead? This debut production, directed by Vikki Anderson, struggles somewhat with those shifts. The early shifts out of the recognizable world and into the absurd were less clear in my view, than they ought to have been; rather than causing the audience to begin to question what they are watching, they served to contribute to confusion. It is a delicate balance to manifest the verfremmdungseffekt I believe is central to achieving this in a production, and at least in the performance I saw, it wasn't quite there. 

That said, overall the performances from Shawn Doyle and Daniela Vlaskalic were quite good, with Doyle standing out until the final moments when Vlaskalic came into her full and truthful range. Earlier scenes didn't always link up from a stylistic perspective, with Vlaskalic putting on a folksy overdrawn accent that she shifted in and out of throughout scenes. Again, I think this comes down to clarify of the shifts in the world of the play; some finer subtlety in these shifts would have helped to enable the audience to think about the play and the message more clearly, rather than simply wonder what was going on in these moments. 

Definitely a script worth seeing, and the difficulties i list above are likely to be worked out through continued performance as the production settles into itself later in the run. 

thoughts. my new Everest

Every director has plays that sit on their bucket list, and for a lot of them, that's all that will ever come of them. Your bucket list plays are filled with scrapes of ideas and images for what you would do, but they are never fully realized. But then, the times comes where you get an AD to agree to giving you the chance. Then you get the rights. And then your stomach flips....now I have to do it. 

I've had that series of experiences this spring, when one of my long-time bucket list plays, 4.48 Psychosis by the enigmatic and irreconcilable genius, Sarah Kane, came my way. From my very first read of the play, I was captivated. On the surface, the play makes next to no sense; it feels like a long form collage poem of beautifully dark statements that challenge your sense of remaining light in the world, interspersed with scenes. Or are they scenes? There are no indications of the number of performers, the number of voices, the ages or genders. Just words. And thoughts. And somehow, it is hopeful. 

So, I embark upon my new Everest. I have an amazing team lined up. I'm directing for Theatre By The River, with the wonderful support of our company members and AD. I have the honour of working with the shining and adventurous young talent, Liz Whitbred on stage. And I get to return to audio collaboration with my partner in life and art, John Norman, who will help Liz and I transform her singular presence in space and time using sound. 

I'm unbelievably excited to direct what I hope will be my most radical experiment yet. Part play production, part sound installation, part poem. You can trust it will be something different, and I hope you'll come on the journey with us, both here on my blog (where you can expect updates, rants, and of course shameless self-promotion) and when we perform it in The Toronto Fringe Festival and Winnipeg Fringe Theatre Festival this July. 

Until then...

thoughts. She knows what it means

Walking through the bowels of Dundas station, early on a Tuesday morning. The man sits, legs crossed, at the edge of the stairs. People pass by. He talks to them. It mostly makes no sense, and they mostly walk by. Ignoring him. 

She looks his direction, catches his eye. She smiles. He is a human, a person, after all. 

"Ah, she knows what it means to paint herself in black". This pierces through the space as morning commuters rush by. 

This sits with her for the rest of the day. It feels like a compliment. But she's not sure why. 

review. The Wedding Party by Kristen Thompson @ Crow's Theatre

It has taken me awhile to feel like I could write about this play. The Wedding Party is deliciously fun, tears in your eyes, gut-hurt funny. This isn't the reason it took me so long. In the days following my attendance at this hilarious, intelligent, beautifully written and expertly performed production, it felt as though the world was falling apart. Trump began a daily barrage of executive orders that upended what we think about human decency and caring for others. In the face of this, how could I reconcile a play that was by contrast, seemingly so light in subject and tone? 

It came to me the other night, however, on one of my late night dog-walks, seeing people come out of the theatre with huge smiles on their faces (I live upstairs of The Crowsnest). Seeing those faces of pure joy as they walked toward their cars or transit. Hearing them recalling favourite moments, that they'll "never look at a dog in the same way" or "windbreaker of lies" followed by shared laughter, it occurred to me that the point of this kind of play is to be a release. A release from the drudgery, the sadness, the despair. And it is so utterly necessary sometimes to just laugh. To laugh at the idiosyncrasies of an elderly grandmother, or a young boy, or hilarious twin brothers with opposing personalities. To laugh when we see ourselves, our own humanity in these people. 

This post is less about the production (which is fantastic, and I 100% recommend to anyone, anywhere) but rather about why this sort of play, which might feel frivolous in these times, is still important. We still need to laugh. To laugh is to remind us of our humanity. 

Also, seeing Tom Rooney in a scene with himself is something that everyone should experience. 

review. The Last Wife by Kate Hennig @ Soulpepper

I went in knowing next to nothing about the production, and from the first moments was captivated. Telling the story of Henry VIII's last wife, Catherine Parr, and her relationship with the King, her lover, and the King's children, it takes a starkly modern view of language and relationship. Though the source material is history, the script is incredibly modern, filled to the brim with razor sharp wit and deep truth about the complexities of love. 

Maev Beaty is sublime as Parr, who is every bit the intellectual equal (if not superior) to the King. She faces off against Joseph Ziegler's Henry, who is infuriating and tempestuous, yet also kind when he chooses to be. The three children are delightfully modern - as the gothic older teen, Sara Farb oozes acidic disdain for the adults around her, while Bahia Watson is charming as the younger Elizabeth, sweet and innocent, but increasingly wise to the challenges presented to her by her gender and position. 

The design must be mentioned here as well; the modular and very simple steps transform into multiple spaces with ease, and the costumes each hold a visual reference both to pop culture, and to their historical counterpart. The lighting complimented this beautifully, and served to underscore the importance of characters in the story. 

Hennig's script creates 6 challenging characters, and 3 incredible women that are a gift to actors. It isn't often you come across a new play that holds such an inherent timelessness in its understanding of relationships and power. This play needs to be on the reading lists for every University's theatre courses in Canada. Now. 

review. The Lion in Winter by James Goldman @ Grand Theatre (London, ON)

The Lion In Winter is a darkly comic re-imagining of the story of King Henry II and his wife, Eleanor of Aquitane in their epic battle of wills. Their machinations use their children as chess pieces, always vying for power through the manipulation or tricking of one or another. Krista Jackson's production takes a scene or so to warm up, however once the cast settle in to the quick pace it begins to crackle with energy. The actors are extremely well cast -- of particular note is the delightfully cunning Brenda Robins as Eleanor. With so many twists and turns, the script would almost be exhausting, however Robins deft turns in energy and objective keep it from growing stale. Sarah Afful is also notable as Alais, who in the hands of a lesser actor would come across as melodramatic. 

The one piece that remains puzzling is the design; featuring three pillars to create multiple rooms and space, they are covered in a spackled black paint which does not align with the richness of some of the costumes, nor does it quite contrast fully. Similarly, the overall look of the costuming lacks a cohesive voice and sense of style, resulting in looking a bit thrown together. 

announcement. Autel @ FOOT Sounding The Inner Ear of Performance, University of Toronto

I'm extremely excited to share that my audio installation Autel has been selected to be a part of the annual Festival of Original Theatre (FOOT) at the University of Toronto's Drama Centre which runs Feb 2-5. This is the 25th anniversary of the conference, coinciding with the 50th anniversary of the Drama Centre @ U of T.

This year's theme is "Sounding The Inner Ear of Performance" so my Autel piece, which I first showed at RADA in London, and subsequently at the Gas Station Arts Centre in Winnipeg is a great fit. 

So much of my own directing and creative work has focused on the power of sound as an active character in the theatrical experience, and I am honoured to have my work included among these amazing thinkers and creators. 

For more about the conference (you can still register) check out their website. 

More about Autel:
Autel is a performance installation piece first shown at the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art in London, March 2012, and subsequently shown at the Gas Station Arts Centre in Winnipeg from October to December 2012. It invites the viewer to experience their own ritual of identity, and examine this mask as they look at others, also performing a ritual of identity. The viewer should, after the experience, begin to question the authenticity of their own public identity, and those they encounter, along with the authenticity of the experiences they have for the remainder of the performances. What are they seeing? How are they responding? Are they responding in a specific way that they believe is correct, or that is for the benefit of others?

Inspired by the work of playwright Jean Genet and composed of a collage of his words and those of Antonin Artaud, Autel is an auditory experience which challenges social constructs of identity and the way we interact with art. 

project. Auditions for commonplacetheatre's 2017 Season

I'm extremely excited to share that I will be directing a new play by Crystal Wood called Grief Circus for commonplacetheatre's 2017 season, which marks the company's Toronto debut. 

I'm particularly excited, as I had the great pleasure of directing a short reading of Grief Circus a few years ago for Sarasvati FemFest. I loved the script then, and was thrilled to be offered to direct a full production now. 

We are holding auditions for all 3 plays that make up the season on Jan 14, 15, 16. 

For Grief Circus specifically, I am looking to cast the following roles. Actors of all backgrounds are encouraged to audition. 

Leah - female, plays 15-20
Jessie - female, plays 17-20
Carol - female, plays mid 40's
Charlie - male, 21
Reporter - male, 40's

For more about commonplacetheatre, the season, and to book your time visit their website.

review. The Damage Done by George F. Walker @ Canadian Rep Theatre

17 years on from their last play, and an ocean of encounters in between, Tina and Bobby are back. Meeting in their park, their latest encounter has a spark underlying waiting to ignite from the very moment. The sense that the pair aren't comfortable together, but can't bear to be apart lurks beneath their conversations as little drips of their history and what transpired in these 17 years come to us. 

Under Ken Gass' direction, the story ebbs and flows beautifully as the pair race into their united truths, then throw on the breaks, only to find themselves racing again. The taut timing Gass elicits from the script speaks to his inherent understanding of Walker's style. The piece is superbly performed by Wes Berger and Sarah Murphy-Dyson; at first, Berger's Bobby feels a bit stiff, however as the play runs forward, we see that this stiffness was intentional, as he remains guarded against the truth that neither will speak. Murphy-Dyson offers a powerhouse performance, demonstrating an immense specificity in what might in a lesser actor edge toward melodrama. The pair spar verbally and at times physically with great intensity and nuance for the 75 minute script. 

My only qualm would be that Walker gives us just a touch too much exposition, particularly related to people we don't see. The true strength of the script is that it is just two people, doing things to one another incessantly, both intentionally and unintentionally; and we don't need anything else. 

The Damage Done runs until Dec 11 at Canadian Rep Theatre. 

review. The Watershed by Annabel Soutar @ Tarragon / Crow's / Porte Parole

As a lover of theatre, I have to admit that I have mixed feelings about verbatim plays. On one hand, I find they are an amazing way to explore contemporary and political stories that feels real and connected, unlike purely dramatic fiction which can come across as issue-based, single-sided, and staid. On the other hand, I struggle with issues of ethics in the story (eg: including the conversation where someone asked not to be included, or highlighting as a plot point the refusal of those with opposing opinions to participate). That said, I found Soutar's script to deftly avoid many of these potential roadblocks, to create a fast-paced and engaging story about something extremely important -- water. 

The performers of this re-mounted production were uniformly outstanding, most of whom played multiple tracks of parts with quick change timings that would make a stage manager faint. Juliet Fox's outstanding modular set demonstrated both utility, and an overwhelming sense of the fragility of our current situation portrayed through the play, by situating the actors on a set completely constructed of pallets. 

There were definitely bumpy moments for me, from a dramaturgical perspective, including the inclusion of former Prime Minister Harper as a character (though great comic relief) and quite a lot of same-idea pushing businesspeople and politicians -- I felt the script might have benefited from a tightening to focus on what I found the most compelling, the story of the 3 little girls. Hearing the interview questions asked of adults "just doing their job" from the mouths of intelligent young children was jarring, and demanded we pay attention to what and how we answer. An excellent production and script overall, I just felt that this broadening of scope potentially missed the opportunity to really hit home by asking us real and difficult questions. Most adults have been in that position -- where a young person you love and care for asks you a question about something that even you don't understand in the world. When this happens, we are compelled to answer and yet know that there are no words that can answer their unending "why". This was the power of The Watershed, in my opinion. Young voices asking WHY. 

The Watershed runs to Oct 30 at Tarragon in association with Crow's Theatre & Porte Parole. 

review. How To Build a House Museum - Theaster Gates @ AGO- Art Gallery of Ontario

Unlike a lot of solo shows one expects to find at a gallery of the reputation of the AGO, the work of Theaster Gates is considerably more ephemeral, more disruptive, more inherently political. In asking his question, "how do we determine whose house to commemorate" and conflating this with the House Music movement, Gates demands that the viewer acknowledge our own limited purview of who "deserves" to be recognized. 

Upon entering the main space, the music (which is at a quite loud volume) pierces the air, and draws you toward the Reel House, a tribute to Chicago musician and pioneer Frankie Knuckles. The joyful and energetic music creates a safe space, one where it is okay to relax and engage personally with the artwork, and contrary to many much more sterile and silent gallery experiences.

Surrounding the Reel House are several canvases with geometric shapes in primary colours. At first glance they appear to reference modernist painting, however upon further view into other rooms, you learn that these are visual representations of scientific charts which show statistics of black households in the period surrounding emancipation. Progress is the key underlying message, and this meters our response to Gates' initial question.

The final space, Progress Palace, is the culmination of these ideals. It is a separated room to enter, where a new group of sounds fill the darkened, purple-lit space. The large physical installation  Houseberg creates fascinating reflection patterns on the wall as it turns slowly. The projected images cycle in tandem with the music which emanates from a skeleton of a DJ booth, playing the video House Heads Liberation Training, with dancers and singers in un-practiced sound and movement. This deconstruction of a nightclub space is wonderful to experience solo -- the absence of other people in the space highlights the potential that occurs when these forms intersect. The theatrical nature of the potential within this constructed (or deconstructed?) space is captivating. 

Gates exhibition as a whole is absolutely work seeing -- runs until October 30th at the AGO.  

review. Complete Works -- Richard II @ TheaterFestival Basel, Forced Entertainment (live stream)

UK company Forced Entertainment have, in recent years, leveraged technology far more creatively than many companies, and with a populist twist. Rather than the flashy (and pricey!) live stream performances to Cineplexes around the world a la West End and NT Productions, Forced have been providing their performances via free of charge live stream. This, of course, works fittingly with the durational nature of their work -- I can't imagine a Cineplex giving up 24 hours in one of their cinemas. But the result is that this highly unique work can make its way to North American audiences. The feed of their Complete Works -- a Table Top storytelling performance of the Complete Works of Shakespeare -- is available until September 9th streaming from TheaterFestival Basel in Switzerland at this link. 

So...what is it? Well, lets delve in to their Richard II for a sampling. Told with a single performer in a storytelling format, Richard II employs the use of every day objects one might find at a bar to create the characters of the story of the ineffective English King who gave up his throne to Henry Bollingbroke. It sounds, in premise, silly -- how can a bottle of Ballantyne's represent an English King? How can tiny salt shakers represent his ill advised friends, Bushy, Baggot, and Greene? Well in the hands of a truly captivating storyteller, able to whittle down the story to the key plot points and perspectives while imbuing these seemingly arbitrary objects with the emotions of the story, it is truly successful. 

The objects begin feeling ordinary, but quickly enjoy significance. It is a demonstration of the power of semiotics in storytelling -- that objects  we present on stage are steeped with meaning because we GIVE them meaning simply by touching them in this lit space. And the objects take on the power of the story so beautifully that by time the play ends, and Bollingbroke stands over Richard's body -- one alcohol bottle standing up, the other tipped over -- we feel the tragedy of this fallen King with such force, almost more so than we would seeing actors on a stage. 

I STRONGLY recommend trying one out over the next few days. 

review. All My Sons @ Stratford Festival

The recent conversion of the Tom Patterson theatre to an in the round venue was perhaps the most perfect decision to frame this outstanding production of Miller's All My Sons, directed by the inimitable Martha Henry. The logistics of the playing space are such that the audience feel situated just over the next fence, or peering in from a nearby treehouse on this neighbourhood, the effect of which is to create an intimacy with the characters which might be lost in a larger and more traditional proscenium space. What is most notable, however, is the mindful pace with which the story progresses; never feeling slow, the story seeps like air slowly leaving a tire, until suddenly it is all out, and crisis hits. 

Lucy Peacock delivers a heartbreaking performance as Mother (Kate) Keller, her every choice so beautifully and naturally evoked that one forgets for a moment you are watching an actor, and not just peering in on real life. She is holds the cast rooted, and around her the ensemble weave a spellbinding picture of this neighbourhood and these people. Of particular note are Tim Campbell and Sarah Afful, who take the roles of the young lovers to a new height. With such nuanced performances, I can't wait to see each of them continue to grow as performers and take on more roles. 

Absolutely stunning work. The 3 acts flew by, and left us winded, gasping for air. Please see this play. 

review. Macbeth @ Stratford Festival

Antoni Cimolino gives us a sumptuous feast in his 2016 production of Macbeth on the Festival stage. Stunning costumes and set, complimented by outstanding set design, and quite possibly the best manifestation of the Wyrd sisters one could imagine, he teases out the dark energy in the play beautifully to keep the audience attentive through the ancient story of lust for power. 

The pacing is generally quite good, and some of the set changes (into the feast!) are so magical as to elicit a gasp from even the most hardened audience members, myself included. So it is unfortunate when mid-scene, some of the work and timing grows a bit slow. There are moments where the physical choices and actions are separated into silence from the text, and I felt this served to undermine the otherwise blistering energy and momentum of the production. 

What was most delightful, however, as the depth of performances by some of the secondary characters; the MacDuffs were both outstanding, and David Collins managed to make the relatively small character of Ross one of the most memorable of the evening. I also truly enjoyed the menace elicited in the language simply through the presence of children in the space! There were drawbacks, however, with some cast members lacking clarity in the thoughts of the text, which rendered it audibly muddled. Krystin Pellerin's Lady Macbeth was unfortunately static; she began in a place of desire for fame, which was heightened and a touch obsessive, which left her nowhere to go upon being haunted.

Overall, a wonderfully magical production done on a scale most of us could only imagine. 

review. Chase Scenes 1-58 @ Summerworks Festival

Upon entering the space, you know you are in for something different. Arranged with 4 blocks of audience facing one inward alley performance space, with an aisle between and space all around the perimeter, the walls are covered in white and six video screens loom overhead. The show kicks off with a burst of energy and suspense, in its opening moments merging sound, video, and live action. What ensues is another 57 scenes which are gleaned from Hollywood chase scenes. The combination of live video feed and live action serves to deconstruct some of the more iconic images that this conjures up, to great effect, including wind machines and assistants fixing hairdos. 

The show took me a few scenes to really settle in to, but once the scenes began to pace and shape our experience as the audience, I really got into it. There was a unique balance of humour and more serious technical prowess as the performers moved through the scenes at a breakneck pace. 

I did find that not all scenes were equal; those which really aimed to deconstruct the traditional view of what we see on film were the most successful from my view, as were those which dealt with nightmares. Some, however, felt like filler, and could have benefitted from a swipe of the dramaturgical pen, if you will. 

I absolutely must mention the feat of technical engineering involved in the live mixing of 2 live cameras and a static pre-recorded video feed. While the technology didn't always cooperate at the performance I saw, it was nonetheless powerful in terms of the contribution to storytelling. 

Not without flaws, Chase Scenes are definitely worth seeing. 

Facebook Event: https://www.facebook.com/events/1018058811583055/
Summerworks Page: http://summerworks.ca/2016/artists/chase-scenes-1-58/

thoughts. being female

My daughter is a bright, energetic, fiery 12 year old. She loves reading and building things, and most of all, soccer. She's pretty good at it, too, and currently plays with an academy team in the SAAC league in Ontario (that's an academy league) and has been identified by the Vancouver Whitecaps pre-residency stream as a kid who has some potential in training with them in Vancouver and Winnipeg (that's the only professional womens' team in Canada). Her academy is predominantly a boys' academy, although they do have a few girls. We selected it for her because a) she likes the challenges of playing in a boys' league where the play is more aggressive and faster and b) because her coaches are exceptional. She regularly contributes as a strong member of her team, rising to the pressure of the game, and is learning and growing to the expectations of her coaches. 

So today, when she was playing alongside 1 other girl on an otherwise all-boys team, against an all boys team, i was a little taken aback at the comments of some of the parents from the opposing team. A boy on their team who was a fair bit bigger than all the others, was running toward the net. Our defender, the other girl on the team, was running him down, and stopping his ability to make a shot with excellent tenacity, was slapped by him as he ran. Rightly so, the ref awarded a card to the boy, and our girl kept on playing. Shortly afterward, two parents from the opposing team stated, out loud, their opinion that "girls shouldn't be playing with boys". Another mom from our team (of one of the boys) loudly opined that she was glad our team had the two girls, as they were strong members of the team, stronger than some of the boys. 

Here's the thing: whether the other player was a girl or a boy (or an alien) in that scenario would not have made the unsportsmanlike conduct of the other player okay. So to loudly opine on the subject as if this had held some bearing over the ref's decision is disrespectful to the ref, and also to the strong and tenacious young women working their butts off on the field. Making the issue about the player's gender, rather than the other player's transgression is petty and false. 

This happens all over the place. An acquaintance of mine who runs an (amazing) tech startup recently shared an experience of being told that she should get a man, or someone more "conventionally attractive" to pitch her project to investors to be more successful. 

Why do people do this? They are intimidated. And that, to be frank, is cowardly. Let your skills show your strength, and let those compete with others. Feeling the need to call down others' work in order to justify your own inadequacy is weak and faulty, and isn't going to get you anywhere. 

So to all the women out there, young and old, who hear these things every day as you are out there being fabulous and strong-willed, just know that it is worth it. They are intimidated by you because of your strength of will. It is easier for them to say you shouldn't do something than for them to improve their own performance. Just remember that, and keep on. 

review. Just A Sliver of the Room and Astronomical Landscapes @ Angell Gallery

I made the trek across Toronto this Saturday to take in the current exhibitions at the Angell Gallery, and could not be happier I did. Arriving at the gallery, it is definitely not a space you'd suspect; tucked in the back corner of a business mini-mall, the outside of the gallery is unassuming, which amplified the drama of the first set of pieces, Steve Driscoll's Just A Sliver of the Room even more. 

Taking a fairly large and open space, Driscoll's vibrant and reflective landscapes jump out against the white walls. Their positioning around the space however, is what is most dramatic. Not only are the paintings themselves steeped in an ecstatic energy, but they are presented in a space filled with black water, which the viewer crosses on a board walk constructed across the space. The resulting immersion in this space which is both bright and dark as well as endlessly reflective has a fantastic result. 

Steve Driscoll

Flashes of Silence, 2016

Urethane on board

You move through this space into the second gallery where Dan Hudson's Astronomical Landscapes take the focus. Each of these long and wide lenticular photographs have a magical quality to them. Every perspective in the room offers a new version of each image, so that the viewer is truly transfixed.  The changeable nature of the world around us is present and comforting in the photographs. 

Dan Hudson

Queen Louise, 2015

Lenticular photograph

Leaving this space and walking back across the board walk, one is struck by the new perspective offered, and the reflection of the bright colours in the black water gains new significance. 

Overall both collections are excellent, however it is in tandem that they have the most notable power over our recollection of space and time.

Here's the thing

In the grand scheme of things in this world, I like to think I am reasonably laid back. I am perfectly happy to hold my opinions to myself when people's choices and actions are out of line with what I think are right, so long as they are not causing harm to one another. But the one area where I refuse to sit back is when it comes to others telling someone about their experiences. Here's the thing: We all have our experiences and our ideas, and what we think about the world comes from those things. Some people have had really comfortable, easy experiences, and some have not. Some people have had experiences that align with the first impression you might get of them, and some have not. 

If you want to get under my skin, tell someone about who they are, for them. Don't let them speak for themselves, or (oh forbid!) ask them about their experiences. Please, pigeonhole them and make assumptions -- especially if this is something you get upset with others for doing to you. This is ideal. 

Because above all, feminism is about telling others about their experiences so that you can be right and unchallenged. 

OH WAIT. It isn't. At the end of the day, the one thing we can do for one another, that will help this world be a better place, is to listen. We can listen to what people have to say, and ask questions. We can let them ask questions of us, and share their experience. Assumptions will get you nowhere. So please, for the love of pineapples and red wine, practice what you preach. Listen. Ask questions. And don't assume you know someone or where they come from. Remember that what someone looks like doesn't guarantee the past they have grown up with, or the family they come from. 

Much love.