My early introduction to the “performing arts” was largely the result of an extra-curricular activity. For reasons that I have long forgotten I was the one who was chosen to operate the projector in the auditorium of Riverdale High School. At McGill University I designed and ran the lights (“designed” was not a term I would have understood then) for a (somewhat) dramatic reading of T.S. Eliot’s “The Hollow Men” at McGill’s Player’s Theatre (ask Paula Sperdakos about that place). After that I went to Bishop’s for my Masters and threw myself into theatre there; all my spare time was consumed by it. At the first volunteer meeting in September, I was asked what my experience was and I responded: “lighting designer”. So, I was appointed the chief electrician of the first major production, in November. That meant that I had to get a book on the subject, read and absorb it, and sneak into the theatre at night to practice focusing lighting instruments that I had just learned the names of: Leicos, Fresnels. By the end of my first year, I had volunteered for every show they did I and learned a little bit about everything. That meant that I was “superbly” qualified to work as an apprentice for the first season of Festival Lennoxville – because everyone was, for the most part, making it up as they went along.
I have to mention a number of people here and I have to rely on memory alone. William Davis was the Artistic Director and although he came from a distinguished Canadian theatrical family (I was about to meet his cousin who was to star in the second play of the first season) and although he had run the Acting Section of the National Theatre School (English), Festival Lennoxville was the first time he had been in such an important position. But Bill was always the kind of guy who took everything in his stride, I have never seen him panic. David Rittenhouse was the Administrative Director and although he also came from a theatrical background (his father practically owned Lakeshore Players in Montreal’s West Island) and his passion and profession was Shakespeare, still David was just an ebullient, brilliant and self-confident English Professor. Both these guys had directed wonderful student productions and had created a sort of Golden Age of University Drama at Bishop’s University. I would also like to mention that David was the only person that I have ever met who had a perfect sense of humour - like perfect pitch. Tell a joke the right way and even if he had heard it a dozen times he would convulse with laughter. He was also the only person that I have ever seen in a theatre, actually, physically, rolling in the aisles. It was a wonder that he didn’t do himself an injury. And this was in rehearsal. He taught me directing and I was in awe of both of these men.
The third person in this group of ‘bosses’ was Jane. Jane also came from a theatrical family as the daughter of a Stratford legend. In this case, Jane was a “wunderkind” of Stratford, Ontario training and was taking on the pivotal job of Production Manager at a very young age, and doing so in a theatrical plant that was designed for winter only, academic use. A beautiful theatre, brilliantly conceived but just not designed for professional use. This would show itself in problems like no real workshop space, inadequate storage facilities and no air conditioning for a summer season audience.
The other Major problem was in personnel. Some key positions were held by experienced professionals: Barry Walsh was a Stage Manager of great experience, the designer, Michael Eagan, was the best in the country, and George the Carpenter had been building sets since the Second World War (in fact he built like a house carpenter, not a stage carpenter). George was a fad dieter – I remember at one time it was peanut butter and apples. He was also a unique “character”. At one point he fell from a ladder and broke both wrists. He insisted on being taken home to shower before he would go to the hospital.
But a lot of the rest of the positions were held by the apprentices, like me. Bishop’s students who did all the crew work for the student productions. I was the head electrician and I had never worked a professional gig in my life. And I was being paid a token $35 a week – even in 1972 that was a joke. We were volunteering our inexperienced time and we were expected to technically carry the festival. Although I was hired as the electrician, I ended up working as a carpenter and an Assistant Stage Manager – and we were all stretched in this way. When crunch time came (Open play #1 and be ready to open #2 soon and solve the storage and change-over of completed sets, practice set change-overs and start on play #3 and on and on . . .) it all fell apart. Jane posted the week’s schedule on the notice board and then locked herself in her office. All of us gaped and gasped when we read it. I was scheduled to work something like 36 hours straight and then be back again after six hours sleep and all the apprentices had similar demands made on them. There were the beginnings of a rebellion right there in the hallway outside the locked Production Manager’s door. Since I was sort of on first name basis with Bill Davis, who had taught and worked with me, I went and told him what all the commotion was about. The next thing I know the rumor mill was rolling wildly. This person will be fired! She’s out of her depth! The festival is done for! When the dust had cleared David Rittenhouse had appeared, meetings had been had and schedules had been modified. None of us died and no one was fired.
But it was close. I’ve never again been so exhausted in my life.
Those were the losses, what were the gains? I got to work, on a day-to-day basis ,with the best. I got to watch Douglas Rain (fresh from doing the voice of Hal in 2001: A Space Odyssey) every show – he even told me how to do a lighting cue. I got to watch an improvisational development of a choric script by a professional company. I got to ASM for John Hirsch and see how tough he was in rehearsal and with designers. I got to watch Ted Follows (father of Megan) overact on a colossal scale. I got to work with (as a real lighting designer) Mia Anderson, who was a joy, in her one-woman show. Here’s a review:
“In the early 1970s,she also staged her own one-woman CanLit-based show, 10 Women, 2 Menand a Moose, which toured nationally. In that show, Anderson performed pieces drawn from contemporary Canadian literature such as Michel Tremblay’s Les Belles Soeurs, Margaret Laurence’s The Stone Angel and Margaret Atwood’s The Edible Woman. Atwood injected some comedy, not only from her novel but also with a personal suggestion that Anderson include another bit of Canadiana – an audio recording of a Quebecois hunter’s practical instructions on how to attract a moose. The second act opened with Anderson just quietly sitting on stage in dappled light, like sunlight through forest leaves, while the recording played. “People fell about. It was so funny because it’s telling you how to imitate the sound of the female peeing in the water of the marsh because that attracts the male,” she [Anderson] said, laughing. “So, thanks to Peggy for that idea. That’s why the moose is in the title.”
That was my dappled sunlight. I guess the job ended up being worth a lot more than $35 a week. And I ended up touring with that show.
