Category: Performing Arts

Inhabiting his father’s world

Bob Bossin (photo by Suzanne Kimpan)

Bob Bossin, a well-known Canadian folk musician, recently released a book about his father, Davy the Punk: A Story of Bookies, Toronto the Good, the Mob and My Dad. The book is a compilation of true-life stories about the author’s father, David, a legendary figure in the underground gambling scene in Toronto in the 1920s, ’30s and ’40s, but it’s much more than that. It is also a social commentary on Canadian life off the lawful path in the first half of the 20th century.

Simultaneously with the release of the book, on which it is based, Bossin is touring with his new one-man musical, Songs and Stories of Davy the Punk: The Very Jewish Story of My Father’s Life in the Gambling Business. He brings it to Havana Theatre June 3-7, and recently talked to the JI about both projects.

JI: How and when did you come up with the idea for this book?

BB: My father died when I was young, just 17, but I heard many stories about him. One afternoon in the early 1970s, I stopped for lunch at the United Bakers Restaurant on Spadina Avenue. It had been in Toronto since 1912 and it had a counter man as old as Methuselah. I sat at the counter and started kibitzing with him. I asked him how long he had lived in Toronto.

“Longer than my teeth,” he said in Yiddish. So I asked him if he knew the Bossins.

“Sure,” he said, “I knew the Bossins. I knew Hye, Celia, Sady, Bessie, Davy….”

“Davy was my father,” I told him.

“Sure, I knew Davy. We used to call him Davy the Punk.”

“Davy the Punk? Why Davy the Punk?”

“Because he was a punk kid. He was a gangster.”

After that, I became very interested in my father and, as it turned out, the police had felt the same way. While my father was not a man who wrote things down, the police wrote a lot about him. So I started to haunt the archives and newspaper morgues. I tracked down old bookies, old cops and old judges and, over the years, I pieced together my father’s story.

JI: Did you use your imagination to fill the gaps or when memory was fuzzy?

BB: Of course, the imagination is very much involved, even as you are trying to stay as close to the facts as possible. People live lives, not stories. Turning a life into a story is an imaginative act.

JI: Could you tell us something about the research you did for the book?

BB: Calling this book a memoir was the publisher’s idea. Fair enough: books have to be categorized, and “storybook” wasn’t one of the options. But that is how I think of it. This is the story I might tell you on a summer night, if I really got wound up. I suppose it is a memoir of sorts, but my father died when I was a teen, so my personal memories of him end early. Of necessity, I have reconstructed much of Davy the Punk from what others told me, and from the documents my father had nothing to do with.

I did get some of the story straight from my father, Davy Bossin. Among friends and family, Davy was not secretive about his past, and I liked nothing better than listening in when he told his stories. I only wish that I had asked him more questions, and that I had a better memory than I do. Of course, in the end, our fathers’ lives always remain a mystery, and mine no less, despite my best efforts to snoop.

Over the years, I have learned a lot about what Davy did, but how he did it, I can only guess. For instance, I know that he went to New York around 1950 to tell Frank Costello he was quitting the gambling business. But how did he feel boarding the train? Worried? Confident? Nonchalant?

Or there is Bill Gold’s story of Davy happily kibitzing with the murderous Fischetti brothers in a Cleveland gambling club in 1948. Was Davy really as relaxed as his friend remembered a half-century later, when he was 92? I decided to take Gold’s word and reported the story that way. The book is peppered with choices like that … as I kept after Davy the Punk through all the obstacles and dead-ends inherent in chasing a man with a 50-year headstart.

My mother was another important source… After her and my father, I am, in a way, most indebted to Alex Haley, the author of Roots. Sometime in the late 1970s, Haley called everyone to go out with a tape recorder and tape their family elders’ stories. I thought that was a terrific idea…. I recorded interviews with a dozen aunts, uncles and cousins, filling many a cassette. I always asked them about Davy.

JI: You talked to people, searched in archives and libraries. What else?

BB: The internet. Suddenly every paper ever published by the Toronto Star or the Globe and Mail was online and searchable. When I searched 1940, up came Gordon Sinclair’s live coverage of the raid on the Canadian Turf and Sports Bulletin, my father’s business. Overall, the books, articles and theses I read number in the hundreds.

JI: How long did it take to write the book?

BB: It took five or six years. I do lots and lots of re-writing.

JI: How and when did the book get turned into a show?

BB: That was my idea from the get-go. Performing, telling stories on stage, both as songs and prose, that’s what I have done for a living all my life. The show premièred at the Ashkenaz Festival in Toronto two years ago, as a sort of one-act musical reading. It has come a long way since then. I developed it through a few other preview performances that fall, and then put it aside. I’ve just started performing the full version. So far, it’s been four shows.

JI: How much of the book went into the show?

BB: The show is maybe one-tenth of the length of the book. They each have their own tone. The book goes much deeper into the history of my father’s world, particularly of the gambling business, the mob, the behind-the-scenes workings of the authorities, the antisemitism of the times. But the show has the magic of a live theatrical experience and, of course, it has the music.

JI: You’re the author as well as the performer. Do you change the show depending on public reaction?

BB: So far, yes. There’s nothing like getting it in front of an audience to see how it connects. There is a scene in the show now that wasn’t there until very recently. It was a piece I did at a couple book launches. People reacted to it so strongly I thought maybe it should be in the show. Once I put it in, it suggested other changes. It’s made for a significantly better show, I think. Eventually, I discover the best way to tell the story, and then it stays pretty much as scripted.

For a review of Bob Bossin’s Davy the Punk: A Story of Bookies, Toronto the Good, the Mob and My Dad, see page “A family underworld” by Robert Matas in this week’s issue. For more on the one-man show, visit the website davythepunk.com.

Olga Livshin is a Vancouver freelance writer. She can be reached at [email protected].

Naomi Steinberg’s Storytelling Festival is fast approaching

Naomi Steinberg (photo by Diane Smithers)

Clearly, creativity and community involvement run in the Steinberg family. In the April 25 issue of the JI, readers heard from Myriam Steinberg, artistic director of the upcoming In the House Festival. This week, her sister Naomi Steinberg talks to the JI about her work as the executive director of the Vancouver Society of Storytelling, which is hosting its 20th Storytelling Festival June 13-15 at various venues around the city.

The Storytelling Festival presents tellers and stories from across the spectrum of custom and culture and this year’s theme, A Cabinet of Curiosities, is in keeping with the festival’s mandate of multiculturalism and education. Close to 30 storytellers will be highlighted over the course of three days. There will be First Nations stories, a Persian epic called “The Shahnameh,” family time stories and a panel discussion on storytelling for social change.

Storytelling is the oldest form of social communication, the oral tradition of passing down fables, legends, fairy tales and myths from generation to generation. It makes us aware of our history, provides an environment to share experiences and can be an effective tool for education and change. Steinberg is passionate about her craft, which she emphasized involves being able to listen, as much as being able to tell.

“A teller is a visual artist who paints with words and carves air with her/his tongue.”

“I do not want to denigrate digital storytelling, but the oral format is its own high art form. A teller is a visual artist who paints with words and carves air with her/his tongue.” As far as the local Society of Storytelling is concerned, she said, there are two aspects to storytelling, the actual telling, the entertainment piece, and then its application in the community setting to encourage social change, the educational piece. “We run the biannual festival and then in the in-between years we focus on a community project,” Steinberg explained. “We are also committed to bringing storytelling into schools.”

Last year, the society was involved with the St. George Rainway Project, a community-driven initiative to recall an historic waterway in Mount Pleasant. Last fall, 13 student stewards were selected from Mount Pleasant Elementary School to guide the community through the area and tell the story of the lost stream within the street right of way along St. George Street from Kingsway to East 13th Avenue. Part of the project was to build a storyteller’s bench at the headwaters of the creek – to leave a legacy to the neighborhood. “It was a day of community engagement and learning and showed what green redesign of a block could bring,” Steinberg said. “It encouraged dialogue and debate amongst the residents of the area. It was a great success.”

Another project was based on the five elements: air, earth, fire, metal and water. “We worked in five different communities, each focusing on exploring one of the elements through storytelling and community participation,” she explained. “We ended with a bike/bus tour to each of the five areas to view the projects. It was a unique way of highlighting the outreach possibilities of storytelling.”

Storytelling is also about preserving one’s culture. Yet different cultures can put a different spin on the same story, an example of that, Steinberg noted, is the story of the North Shore Twin Peaks – known as the Lions. “In the 1880s, British immigrants, who constituted the majority of British Columbia residents, commemorated their colonial roots by naming the two peaks after the famous crouching Lions of London’s Trafalgar Square. However, even before one British foot touched West Coast soil, the aboriginal peoples had their own mythology of the ‘Twin Sisters,’ who helped save their tribe from extinction by making peace with a warring neighbor tribe and, for this deed, were immortalized and set forever in a high place as the two peaks.”

There was very little “the Wandering Jew” could carry with him to preserve his memory as he was forced out of his home in various countries, so he took his stories, with their wisdom, humor and pathos.

Storytelling knows no ethnic or cultural boundaries; every culture has its folklore. Judaism is no exception. There was very little “the Wandering Jew” could carry with him to preserve his memory as he was forced out of his home in various countries, so he took his stories, with their wisdom, humor and pathos.

The position of a storyteller was often revered in a society. Steinberg laughed as she talked about the night she told her grandparents that she was a storyteller, in response to a query about what she was doing for a living.

“I was afraid to tell them and was very surprised when they congratulated me for being part of an honorable tradition, that of a maggid. This was an endorsement at the highest level for me.”

Steinberg has traveled around the world telling stories and presenting workshops. Of all the stories she has told, her favorite is based on an Iraqi-Kurdish Jewish fairytale called “The Wonderful Healing Leaves” from a book of Jewish folklore edited by Howard Schwartz.

After four years with the society, Steinberg said she is leaving for a year and a half abroad to gather material for her upcoming Fringe Festival production that explores the French roots of her maternal grandmother.

About why people should come to the festival, Steinberg said, “They will get a deepened appreciation of Vancouver, its landscapes, its indigenous population and its various cultural communities. They will be entertained and they will see that storytelling is fun, educational and simple, you don’t need a lot of props to participate.”

As to the future of oral storytelling, Steinberg was emphatic, “Nothing replaces heart-to-heart, face-to-face, breath-to-breath interactions. Even when you are just listening to a story, you are using more than your ears, it is an emotional experience that involves your heart and soul. The digital world is not going to take over this form of communication, ever.”

For more information and a list of the festival’s storytellers and venues, visit the website vancouverstorytelling.org.

Tova Kornfeld is a Vancouver freelance writer and lawyer.

A Vancouver Jew in Camelot

The cast of Spamalot, with Josh Epstein at centre, on one knee. (photo by David Cooper)

In any great adventure,
that you don’t want to lose,
victory depends upon the people that you choose.
So, listen, Arthur darling, closely to this news:
We won’t succeed on Broadway,
If you don’t have any Jews.

– Sir Robin, Spamalot

Of all the Monty Python films, perhaps none has deposited as many “Pythonisms” as Monty Python and the Holy Grail. Who can forget the airspeed of an African swallow, horse hoofs portrayed by empty coconut halves, the knights who say “ni,” the killer rabbit and, that old chestnut, “It’s only a flesh wound.”

Produced in 1975, Holy Grail was the second in a string of five successful Python films that included And Now for Something Completely Different (1971), Life of Brian (1979), Live at the Hollywood Bowl (1982) and The Meaning of Life (1983).

Funny thing is, although I’ve seen Holy Grail perhaps a dozen times over the years, I don’t recall the presence of a giant Magen David dangling in a spotlight as the cast sings, “You haven’t got a clue if you don’t have a Jew.” Call me crazy but I don’t think that was in the original.

But then Spamalot does not suggest that it’s anything other than a rip off (albeit lovingly done), so, although it’s based on the movie, be prepared for the use of monumental artistic licence. And yet, what better piece for physical comedian/actor/musical theatre devotee Josh Epstein to sing as he prances around the stage in one of the funniest performances you’ll see this year.

photo - Josh Epstein, as the taunting Frenchman in Spamalot
Josh Epstein, as the taunting Frenchman in Spamalot. (photo by David Cooper)

Epstein has already proven his prowess in memorable productions such as The Producers in 2008 and The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee in 2010. But seeing him frolic in chain mail, bedecked with Orlando Bloom hair, or hurling brilliant insults as a French soldier wearing the equivalent of a Conehead helmet, is gut-wrenchingly hysterical.

For those not familiar with the story, the plot centres on King Arthur’s attempt to round up some knights (or “ke-nicts” as Epstein mispronounces in his French “aksant”) to search for the grail. On his path, he encounters challenges of outrageous (in size and humor) proportions. He can’t even convince the local serfs that he deserves their respect as a king after relating how he acquired the title from the Lady of the Lake. “Strange women lying in ponds distributing swords is a bad way to choose a government,” he is told.

The hapless Arthur (David Marr) continues undaunted, however, eventually rounding up four knights – the Homicidally Brave Sir Lancelot (Jay Hindle); Sir Robin, the Not-Quite-So-Brave-as-Sir-Lancelot (Epstein); Sir Galahad, the Dashingly Handsome (Jonathan Winsby); and Sir Bedevere, the Strangely Flatulent (Ashley O’Connell). His biggest challenge comes when he is told by the knights who say “ni” that he can only continue his quest if he puts on a successful Broadway musical.

“Can it be done?” he asks Sir Robin. Yes, he responds, but only if you have Jews in the production. After all, “It’s a very small percentile who want to see a dancing gentile.”

Enter the Magen David, a menorah on a piano and four knights and one king who suddenly transform into Chassidic Yiddim.

As it turns out, Arthur’s sidekick Patsy is a member of the tribe, but has been keeping it a secret.

“It’s not the sort of thing you say to a heavily armed Christian,” he responds to Arthur when asked why he was not forthcoming.

Beyond the brilliant writing, kudos have to be given to choreographer Lisa Stevens and costume coordinator Rebekka Sorensen-Kjelstrup. The look, the sound and the dancing all elevate the production into stratospheric entertainment.

Monty Python’s Spamalot, with book and lyrics by Eric Idle, runs until June 29 at the Arts Club’s Stanley Industrial Alliance Stage, artsclub.com. Warning: profane language.

Baila Lazarus is a freelance writer, editor and photographer. Her work can be seen at orchiddesigns.net.

Amber Funk Barton premières piece with lululemon tie-in

The Art of Stealing grew from Barton’s desire to explore what’s considered right and wrong in a post-apocalyptic world. (photo by Chris Barton)

When Amber Funk Barton was constantly dancing around her house at the age of 4, she didn’t realize that one day she would become a professional dancer and choreographer. But the Vancouver-born artist, now 33, is living her dream. Her latest production, The Art of Stealing, created by her choreography company, the response, premières on May 28 at the Firehall Arts Centre.

“I didn’t think I had a future as a professional dancer, I thought choreography was one way I could still be involved in dance,” said Barton. “My dream was to have my own company and to choreograph.”

The Art of Stealing grew from Barton’s desire to explore a dark theme, what she describes as a “post-apocalyptic world” and the difficulties in understanding what’s right and wrong in this haunted, mysterious future.

“The small picture is the obvious thing – the obvious literal act of stealing, that’s physical, taking something physical without consent,” she said. “I found it very interesting in this post-apocalyptic world that all of sudden it’s OK to steal – and if you don’t steal, you’re gonna die. It’s related to survival. On the bigger level, I started really thinking about it – the stealing that we can’t control at all – our time, our energy, our youth. Essentially to me, death is the ultimate thief in life.”

The 60-minute piece is the third full-length work that the response has created. Established in 2008, the company’s two previous pieces, RISK (2008) and Portraits and Scenes of Female Creatures (2011), also premièred at the Firehall.

photo - choreographer and dancer Amber Funk Barton
Choreographer and dancer Amber Funk Barton. (photo by Chris Barton)

Although Barton said she had been dancing since she was a little girl, she only started dancing professional at 21. Perhaps her maiden name, “Funk,” was a glimpse of the career trajectory her life would take.

But Barton isn’t just making her mark in the dance world. While creating the piece, she teamed up with active-wear clothing line lululemon’s innovation hub, called lululemon lab. “The lab is very inspired by different groups in the community and works with them to make functional fashion for people specifically in our community,” said Barton. She was introduced to Jean Okada, team director at lululemon lab, who was impressed by Barton’s creative piece.

“She came up with the idea that she would like to pitch what the lab calls a capsule collection. So they essentially designed our costumes,” said Barton. In addition to designing the dancers’ costumes, they created a collaborative clothing line, which launched last week, on May 16. “They’re selling it in stores and we’re wearing [that] same clothing on stage. It’s a really beautiful exchange,” Funk said. The clothing is in line with the dance piece’s theme – it’s dark and edgy and promotes Barton’s unique ideas about the struggle for survival in a dark world. The limited edition capsule collection produced three pieces for women and three for men and will be available only until the items are sold out.

“First of all, having a line designed is beyond what I was imaging in the first place. It was amazing. They had such respect for what we were doing as artists. They asked dancers thorough questions, what our needs are. I was able to share images and whatever I had collected in terms of inspiration. They actually took what I wanted and integrated it into the line. I was part of fittings. It was beyond what I was hoping for,” said Barton.

Reflecting on her beginnings and how far she’s come, Barton said, “I started dancing probably around 4 years old and it was with ballet and I had some kind of alignment issues. I had weak mobility in my legs so the doctor recommended ice skating or dance to strengthen the alignment of my legs. My mom noticed I was dancing around the house all the time anyways and she also didn’t want to sit in an ice rink at 5 a.m., so she enrolled me in ballet classes and that’s basically how it all started.”

Now, she wants to focus on choreography and creating more unique pieces, as she embarks on what she calls her “mid-career artist years.”

“I feel very fortunate and very grateful,” she said. “My company is a small, project-based company. It’s like a little home where I can make what I’m interested in and make my art. Sometimes I just pinch myself.”

The Art of Stealing is on stage May 28-31 at the Firehall Arts Centre. There is an artist talk back after the performance on Thursday, May 29. For tickets, contact the Firehall at 604-689-0926 or visit firehallartscentre.ca.

Vicky Tobianah is a freelance writer and editor based in Toronto. Connect with her on Twitter, @vicktob, or at [email protected].

David Mamet’s Oleanna still prompts debate

Susan Coodin as Carol and Anthony F. Ingram as John in Bleeding Heart’s Oleanna. (photo by Adam Blasberg)

David Mamet’s controversial play Oleanna set up home in Vancouver this spring. By coincidence, two small theatre companies programmed the two-actor drama for around the same time and the result is several weeks of heated conflict, on stage and off. For more than 20 years, audiences have argued about the play, about what really happened to Carol in John’s office. Possible answers continue to turn up as the play is produced over and over again around the world.

The Mamet on Main production ran from April 19-27 at Little Mountain Gallery. The second production, by Bleeding Heart Theatre, runs from May 6-18 at Havana Theatre on Commercial Drive.

Recently, Mamet is better known for his books of essays, polemics against antisemitism (The Wicked Son: Anti-Semitism, Self-hatred and the Jews, 2006) and against the American left (The Secret Knowledge: On the Dismantling of American Culture, 2011), but he remains one of America’s greatest 20th-century playwrights. Oleanna is among his most successful and frequently produced works, along with Glengarry Glen Ross (Pulitzer Prize 1984), American Buffalo and Speed-the-Plow. Oleanna remains current because actors and directors love to engage with the challenging piece and audiences can still be electrified by the emotional battle for power.

In the play, a young college student named Carol visits her professor, John, in his office looking for help. She’s failing his course and doesn’t know what to do. John offers to tutor her and puts a reassuring hand on her shoulder. In the next scene, we are back in John’s office but Carol is no longer looking for his help. She has filed a written complaint accusing John of sexually harassing her. He beseeches her to see reason and to withdraw the complaint. John’s job and entire future are at stake.

Was she harassed? We, the audience, were there when it happened, but nothing is clear.

According to theatre legend, back in the early 1990s when this play premièred, arguments broke out in theatre lobbies over what John had done and what he meant by it. Many saw the play as misogynistic, and an attack on feminism. The taint of that accusation remains, which may be one reason actors and directors today are eager to reconsider the play and see what is really there.

“Mamet obviously believes this is a balanced argument, a dialectic about the nature of power in our educational institutions,” said Evan Frayne, director of the Bleeding Heart production. Frayne’s other directing credits include The Verona Project and The Foreigner for Pacific Theatre. He said one big challenge with Oleanna is choreographing the moments of physical contact between the two characters.

… the only stage direction for one such moment is: “He puts his hand on her shoulder.”

“The nature of how he touches her,” said Frayne, “becomes the crux of the play.” He notes that the only stage direction for one such moment is: “He puts his hand on her shoulder.” So, the director must decide how chaste or sexual or ambiguous the touch is to be. “It’s how far and how long,” he says of the simple touch. “Can that be something more than just a hand on the shoulder, or someone comforting someone else?”

He said he regards the historic controversy around the play as specific to those earlier productions. “My interpretation of what the controversy is about is a lot of people think that the character of John is more fully realized than the character of Carol. People say she’s simply trying to take down this good professor, which I think is not true.”

To Frayne, language itself is the source of the trouble. “I see this as a language play about education,” he said. Both characters are “stuck” with English, which is full of traps, he suggested. Male dominance is built into the language, he said, especially in a university setting.

The Mamet on Main production, which has closed, made the characters equal combatants. Director Quelemia Stacey Sparrow gave us a powerfully intelligent Carol and an insecure, clueless John. Pandora Morgan played a young woman temporarily overwhelmed by the demands of first-year university. Her confidence shaken, she looks for advice and reassurance from her professor. David Bloom’s John was a nervous man more at home pontificating than speaking plainly. He wants to help his student, but is too self-absorbed to treat her with respect. Instead, he regards her as something damaged that he can fix. This insults her and gives him licence to treat her like his own child and so to inappropriately touch and console her.

Bloom, who played the professor, is a seasoned local actor who teaches on faculty at Capilano University and Langara College. He said by telephone he was initially reluctant to take the role because the production he had seen 20 years ago made the play seem pretty one-sided and he had no interest. Upon reading the script, however, “I found Carol’s arguments more compelling than I remember from when I saw the show,” he said.

He said both characters behave badly. “Both are deeply flawed human beings who do some pretty horrible things,” he said.

Mamet on Main would like to remount its production at some point, said Bloom. “We don’t feel like we’ve explored the whole thing and we’re interested in working on it further,” he said.

Susan Coodin, Carol in the current Bleeding Heart production, had never seen or read the play before embarking on the current production. The University of British Columbia graduate who has many theatre credits, including Bard on the Beach performances, said by phone she was drawn to the script by the character of Carol. She identified, she said, with Carol’s life as a young person in a university setting. She was aware that in past productions Carol has been portrayed as heartless and vindictive, but Coodin said she took a fresh look at the role.

“I knew that there was more to her than what was on the surface,” she said, “and I was really interested in finding her truth and what she believes to be true.”

Coodin sympathized with the character who needs John’s help and validation so much, but who never properly receives it. “It’s hard to come to terms with what she has to do to find herself. I wanted to find her sensitivity and her compassion and her desire to connect with John, with her professor, and she seems to be consistently denied that.”

In the end, she said, Carol finds security and a new maturity through the work she does with her “group,” an amorphous organization never fully defined for the audience. Carol is “a sensitive person, but she also comes to realize that there is a cause bigger than herself and her relationships, that gives her confidence and she comes to find herself through her cause,” said Coodin.

The artists involved with both productions agreed that Oleanna is a sophisticated, well-written drama that can support a variety of readings. This is the sign of great dramatic literature and Vancouver has been fortunate to see two different interpretations of this classic script by one of America’s greatest playwrights.

For tickets to the Bleeding Heart production, visit bleedinghearttheatre.com.

Michael Groberman is a Vancouver freelance writer.

Ben Ratner takes risks on and off stage

Ben Ratner (photo from Kindred Entertainment)

Ben Ratner is a man of many talents with an impressive resumé – boxer, musician, artist, stand-up comedian, actor, writer, producer and director – a Jewish Renaissance man, but more importantly, he’s down-to-earth mensch. On a rainy Saturday afternoon, Ratner sat down with the Independent in his shabby chic east side Haven Studio to talk about his current film and theatre projects.

Hot off his success with his award-winning film Down River, which he wrote, produced and directed, he is presently at the helm of the Canadian première of Tommy Smith’s White Hot, which opened May 8 and runs until May 17 at the Shop Theatre at 125 East 2nd Ave.

Down River is a tribute to his late friend and mentor Babz Chula, a local actor who succumbed to cancer in 2010 at the age of 64. “Babz was ageless, she could bridge the gap between a kid in a sandbox and a wise old lady wrapped up in her shawl. She was this petite little thing, but so full of life and energy. In 2003, she played my mother in the first feature film I wrote and directed, Moving Malcolm. We were very close,” said Ratner.

The film is a poignant mix of humor and drama and locally shot. It tells the story of four women, who all live in the same West End apartment building, three 20-/30-somethings (Gabrielle Miller, Colleen Rennison and Jennifer Spence, Ratner’s real-life wife) and a middle-aged divorcée (Helen Shaver), each struggling with a personal crisis; the younger ones searching for their identities and life purpose and Pearl, the older character, providing guidance in the midst of battling with pancreatic cancer. The film has been described as “eschewing cliché in a thoughtful, well-acted look at several generations of women at a crossroads in their lives.”

As to the Jewish aspect of the film, Ratner pointed out, “We never actually say that Pearl is Jewish in the film, but the hints are there, the menorah in the window in her apartment and the memorial service, which we shot inside the Or Shalom Synagogue.”

Chula’s presence is felt more than just as inspiration for the subject matter of the film. Pearl wears some of Chula’s clothes in various scenes, items from her apartment are used as props, the three young women each wear one of her signature bracelets, and Spence wears her “Coke-bottle glasses.” The letter read at Pearl’s memorial service is an abridged version of what Ratner shared with attendees at Chula’s celebration of life. Ratner’s own large-scale abstract canvases are used as the art gallery props. The addition of these personal touches makes the film intimate and engaging.

Down River has garnered more accolades than Ratner imagined it would. “We had 99-percent positive reviews and a warm response from audiences, and I saw how my film could affect people. They come out of the theatre smiling but blowing their noses. This story is not about dying, it is about living without fear.” Audiences voted Down River Most Popular Canadian Film at the 2013 Vancouver International Film Festival and critics named it the Best B.C. Film of 2013. It has been nominated for 13 Leos and is presently making the rounds of the North American film festival circuit.

photo - White Hot is on stage at Shop Theatre until May 17.
White Hot is on stage at Shop Theatre until May 17. (photo from Kindred Entertainment)

While Ratner is basking in the glow of the success of his cinematic opus, he is focusing his directing talents on the intimate world of black-box theatre with White Hot. The press release describes it as “a darkly comedic psycho-drama crammed into a love triangle between a troubled woman, her opportunistic husband and her trashed sister.” Ratner explained, “I am doing this play with my colleague, Loretta Walsh, who teaches with me in my acting studio. Her character is a great part for her terrific acting skills and brings the message that one should remain hopeful and strong and dignified no matter how brutal the circumstances. It is a dark play, unapologetically harsh, violent and sexually explicit. It is a risk for us to do the play. Not everyone is going to like it. But that is not going to stop us from going there.”

Ratner quoted playwright John Patrick Shandley (Doubt) in making his point: “Theatre is a safe place to do unsafe things that need to be done.” He continued, “ We could have done a crowd pleaser, but that is not what we are all about; this play will offend. However, I do not do theatre in order to aim for the middle. I need to do something to wake up this town and challenge the actors on a level that is not just about playing a part but finding some real humanity to it. There is no resolution at the end of this play, no answer, just an acceptance by the characters of the way things are.”

Not content with only personal success, Ratner is teaching future generations of actors in his studio. “Being a teacher is the most satisfying thing I have ever done. It enables me to have a purpose beyond my own gain. It allows me to give and not just take.”

And, there are plans for the future. “Long term, I will be teaching for the rest of my life. Short term, I want to make another film and reach bigger audiences. Down River was all about women. I am now working on another film that will be about men working through their mid-life crises.” In response to whether that topic is autobiographical (Ratner is 49), he laughed, “There’s always a bit of you in everything you write.”

For information and tickets to White Hot, visit kindredentertainment.com.

Tova Kornfeld is a Vancouver freelance writer and lawyer.

Ignite! festival is youth driven, skill building

For one week each spring, the Cultch comes alive with hundreds of local artists between the ages of 13-24 for the Ignite! Youth Festival. This is the 15th year of the event.

“The festival is a great place to discover new and emerging artists across Metro Vancouver and beyond. There’s food, laughter, dancing, dressing up, exciting acts and good times,” said Ellie O’Day of O’Day Productions, which handles publicity for the annual event. The festival “was created and run by a youth panel, working countless hours to put on an amazing festival every year, showing how important it is to have an opportunity like Ignite!,” she explained.

photo - Ellie O'Day
Ellie O’Day (photo from Ellie O’Day)

Hundreds of youth are involved in what is now Vancouver’s largest youth-driven arts festival, which includes showcases of music, dance and spoken word, the world première of three one-act plays, a visual arts exhibit and a variety of other acts. Events will be held in the Historic Theatre, Vancity Culture Lab, the Cultch lobby and the café galleries from May 2-10.

Though the festival is put on by youth, it is supported by a vast network of arts professionals to mentor the youth and help build their skills. Last year, a publicity mentorship was added to the list of mentorship opportunities. Publicity mentees get the opportunity to work with O’Day, the festival’s publicist five years running.

O’Day was brought up in a Reform Jewish family in the eastern United States and launched her career on radio in the late 1970s in Vancouver. From broadcasting, she expanded into writing, arts administration and arts advocacy, teaching music business for 21 years, and then – via her work as a publicist – helping to promote some of her favorite things: media and performing artists.

“I may have been thousands of kilometres away from my family and the customs that were part of our Jewish family life for many decades, but one of the principles that has stuck with me – particularly as I did not have children myself – is that we live on in the wisdom and knowledge we share with the coming generations,” she said. “That principle is so important to me that I would feel unfulfilled without it.”

O’Day does publicity for many shows at the Cultch, which is a complex of (now) three theatre spaces. “They have invested in this youth program,” said O’Day. “On staff, there is one youth program coordinator, currently Robert Leveroos,” who serves as guide, and also oversees a group of about 20 youth panel members who serve as the organizers of the festival.

During the weekend prior to the main festival, there is a showcase for mentored songwriters, spoken word artists and dancers. During the festival itself – which begins today – three short plays are presented in repertory. The young playwrights have been mentored by professional local playwrights; the young directors have been mentored by professional local directors.

“Last year, as a nearing-retirement publicist, I suggested we ‘mentorize’ the publicity, too,” said O’Day. “Young people may be savvy about social media, but don’t really understand how traditional media works.”

The publicity mentee helps with festival publicity. “Landon Krentz’s application indicated he was already doing some arts administration work, which meant he’d have a familiarity with the general infrastructure of arts organizations, which would add to his skill set,” said O’Day about this year’s publicity mentee.

photo - Landon Krentz
Landon Krentz (photo from Ellie O’Day)

Krentz and O’Day met a few times and split up the work, contacting artists for information, sending out media releases and following up on them.

Calling O’Day “my amazing mentor,” Krentz said he decided to join the mentorship program to improve his media relations skills and to become more involved in the industry. As the president of British Columbia Rainbow Alliance of the Deaf, Krentz has been involved with accessibility coordination, as well as with serving the deaf queer communities. A fundraiser and event coordinator for the contemporary dance community by day, Krentz is one of very few bilateral profoundly deaf people working in the arts community. “I hope to become a stronger advocate for deaf members and challenge audism in every day life,” said Krentz.

Some backstage roles, like stage management, lighting design, etc., have also been included in the mentorship program more recently. This year, promotional photography is being mentored by the Cultch’s house photographer.

“We’re not mentoring people to take over our positions next year,” O’Day explained. “The idea is to disseminate our skill sets and help mentor the next generation – who will eventually take our place(s).” The festival is all about empowerment, sharing knowledge and collaboration, she added.

There is an open application process in the fall/winter, when mentorship spots become available. In total this year, there are 18 mentorships, including three each in dance, songwriting and directing, two each in spoken word, playwriting and collaborative creation, and one each in publicity, photography, lighting design and stage management. The mentors hail from various disciplines and are all practising their art/craft in their professional lives.

Jane Heyman, a veteran director and theatre educator, is among the director mentors, as is Stephen Drover, artistic director of Rumble Theatre. A new category, collaborative creation, is mentored by Barbara Adler, who worked with spoken word mentees in the past. Among the dance mentors are Amber Funk Barton and Tara Cheyenne Friedenberg.

photo - Tara Cheyenne Friedenberg
Tara Cheyenne Friedenberg (photo by Wendy D Photography)

“This program is very unique,” Friedenberg, who is a dancer, choreographer and artistic director of Tara Cheyenne Performance, told the Independent. “It’s not a training program, but more of a lab with the amazing goal of a big performance in the fabulous Cultch. It’s an opportunity to mix with other youth committed to making art and to get guidance and support from some movers and shakers in Vancouver’s vibrant arts scene.”

O’Day added, “Each mentor’s role is going to be unique. Hopefully, they will be generous to share their knowledge and to let the mentee do a lot of the work, so they get hands-on experience.”

The Ignite! Youth Festival (igniteyouthfest.ca) runs until May 10. Tickets ($2 for youths 12-19, $6 for students/seniors, $10 for adults) are available online at tickets.thecultch.com or by calling 604-251-1363.

Rebeca Kuropatwa is a Winnipeg freelance writer.

Moments shine in Seminar

Brian Cummins, standing, with, left to right, Michael Germant, Christine Wallace, Gina Leon and Brendan Riggs. (photo by Gregory Wills Photography)

Seminar, by American playwright Theresa Rebeck, is a sex comedy with occasional insights into the life of a professional artist. However, the play feels a bit thrown together and uncertain of how seriously it wants to be taken. As a drama, it is pretty weak. As a sex comedy, it is second rate. And, as a meditation on the life of an artist, it is half-baked. Still, it has moments that work.

The recent community theatre collaboration by Island Productions with Frolicking Divas and Bar S Entertainment marked the play’s Vancouver première. The show ran for five performances at PAL Studio Theatre and closed April 20. The cast comprised local film and television actors, including a couple of Jewish community members, Gina Leon and Michael Germant.

Rebeck is a successful television writer with credits like L.A. Law, Third Watch, NYPD Blue and Smash. In 2003, she was nominated (with a co-writer) for a Pulitzer Prize. In addition, she is a noted scholar who holds a doctorate in theatre from Brandeis University. Seminar ran on Broadway for 191 performances before it closed May 6, 2012. Allan Rickman played the lead character, Leonard, a washed-up novelist who teaches young writers. It’s a huge role, a character that dominates the play and all the characters in it.

Martin Cummins played that role in the local production. Four young writers have chosen to pay $5,000 each to study with this literary giant. As the group’s teacher, Leonard is a pontificating jerk and a destructive force. He is also the source of the play’s energy. Cummins’ characterization started with over-the-top bluster and pomposity, a level that gave the character no room to become increasingly arrogant and obnoxious as the play goes on. This weakened his performance and the production.

Four students and Leonard meet weekly in Kate’s apartment for a workshop with the “Great Man.” Kate (played by Leon) is a privileged young woman who lives in a huge apartment on Manhattan’s Upper West Side. She reveals her insecurity by constantly dropping the name of the exclusive college she once attended, as if this establishes her credibility as a short story writer. She’s in love with Martin (Germant), who eventually sleeps with Izzy (Christine Wallace).

Lots of low-comedy bed-hopping occurs in a play that aspires to be about the creation of art. The sex-comedy element may indicate that the playwright was too lazy to develop more sophisticated subplots, or maybe it just shows the playwright’s conviction that stock characters in age-old situations are essential to commercial Broadway success. She is likely right in the latter.

Douglas (Brendan Riggs) is eager to receive approval from his teacher, and Izzy enjoys Leonard’s accolades for what is clearly an inferior work. She succeeds on her looks alone, and ends up in a couple of beds.

And then there is Martin, the best writer in the group and the least secure. He is afraid to show his writing to anyone. When he finally shares his work, Leonard is deeply affected and moved to make the play’s best, and best-performed, speech. He warns Martin of the miserable life that lies before him should he pursue the writing career of which he is clearly capable.

In this speech, Rebeck (through Leonard) offers a cautionary tale about how a talented writer may produce a successful novel or two, but can then expect to see his or her excellent work ignored, suffer envy of less successful writers, and end up teaching creative writing to bored students at some insignificant college. Leonard is clearly describing his own rise and fall, and Cummins rose to the occasion with this speech and we saw Leonard’s bluster combined with personal pain and disappointments. A good moment for Cummins.

For the play’s final scene, Rebeck takes a more romantic view of artists, those individuals who are compelled to create. This final dialogue, between Leonard and Martin, allowed both actors to shine. Germant provided a layered version of Martin. He shifted from an angry victim who demands his money back to an artist in search of a mentor; and Leonard challenges the young writer to work hard. The play ends on a hopeful note.

The actors, for the most part, were too dependent on the script for the establishment of their characters. They should have displayed more anxiety in anticipation of Leonard’s judgment and more distress when he destroys their dreams. The actors needed also to demonstrate why their characters stick with the loathsome Leonard, why they don’t just leave the room and quit his class. Finally, the comedy would have worked better if director Mel Tuck had guided his actors into a faster pace and a greater focus on proper timing. Snappy dialogue needs to snap.

Michael Groberman is a Vancouver freelance writer.

A busy year for In the House

In the House Festival organizer Myriam Steinberg. (photo from Myriam Steinberg)

“I fell into this career by accident,” In the House Festival organizer Myriam Steinberg told the Jewish Independent in an interview about the festival, which starts its 2014 season with a production at Vancouver FanClub on weekends to the end of April, a May 8 fundraiser and the festival itself June 6-8.

Before her lucky “accident,” Steinberg tried a few professional directions. After high school, she did photography, she studied English and humanities at university, and also worked in the functional arts, but nothing clicked.

“In 2003, my friend Daniel Maté came up with the idea of putting up shows in people’s living rooms,” said Steinberg. “He called it ‘In the House Festival’ and asked me to help. I did, and loved it. I had to learn a lot. At that time, I didn’t know anything about cultural life in Vancouver. Next year, he did something else, and the festival didn’t happen, and later he moved to New York. I wanted to continue with the festival so, in 2005, I took over. Since then, I’ve organized this annual event by myself.”

This year marks the 10th festival Steinberg has created as a solo entrepreneur. According to the website, since its inception, In the House has produced more than 300 shows in 70 genres and hired about 600 different acts. All the festival performances showcase local actors and musicians.

Steinberg also produces other shows for corporate and private clients, like dinner theatre or the Haunted House in October. “But we don’t do skulls, vampires and witches,” she said. Instead, they employ original themes: Greek mythology, fairies or Atlantis. Every year is dedicated to a different theme.

“Our signature event remains In the House Festival on the first weekend of June,” she explained. “The shows all take place in people’s living rooms or backyards. People donate their spaces for the shows.”

Some of the space donors/ house owners are Steinberg’s personal friends, while others she has found while walking her neighborhood around Commercial Drive. “I would see a large house during a garage sale and introduce myself to the owners, ask them if they would want to participate. Many said yes, and they liked it. We have a 90 percent repeat rate for our host houses.”

The free performance venues enable Steinberg to keep ticket prices low and pay the actors from the ticket sales, although she didn’t say anything about getting paid herself. For her, In the House is much more about community than profit, and it is registered under the umbrella of the nonprofit society Arts in Action.

“I create connections,” she said. “Everyone needs a little ‘Wow!’ in their lives, and performing arts are the key. Whether you’re in the audience, a performer or a host, you walk away from the show with a feeling of magic.”

Steinberg conceives that magic, nurtures it and enhances it. “Over the years, many performers became my friends. I invite them to my personal gatherings, introduce them to each other. New and exciting projects are often born this way…. Actors love the festival. For them, it is a good platform to try new material. I always mix new and known names in every performance. This year, we’ll have 19 different shows in 13 houses with over 80 performers.”

Shows in 2014 will include jazz and classical music, burlesque and puppets, stand-up comedy, circus and much, much more. To organize such complex and versatile events with so many participants, Steinberg needs not only lots of imagination but also the ability to multitask and a deep well of flexibility. “Things always go wrong,” she admitted with a smile. “You have to be able to roll with the punches, to always have a Plan B and come up with solutions quickly. People skills are a must, and being pig-headed helps. You have to be stubborn, never give up. Vancouver is a slow city, arts-wise.”

Despite the challenges, Steinberg believes that the rewards far outweigh any difficulties. “I’m surrounded by amazing, innovative people, both performers and audiences,” she said. “During the shows, I like to watch the public. I see people smile, see memories created. I love having kids in the public, and almost all the shows are children-friendly. This year, only one show – burlesque – is adults-only.”

Steinberg herself never performs in her shows, with one exception – one year, she danced Cuban salsa. “It’s too much for me,” she said, laughing. “But I do everything else. I come up with themes for the shows, find performers and venues, organize equipment and décor, sometimes make props. I update our website, engage in social media, write the newsletter, do the accounting and stage managing. I set up the shows and tear them down afterwards. And, of course, fundraising. It’s always a challenge to find sponsors. I must be a little bit crazy to keep doing all that but I can’t think of anything else I want to do.”

Not that there’s time for her to think of anything else. Until the end of April at Vancouver FanClub (Friday through Sunday, 8:30 p.m.), In the House’s Space Cruise explores existential questions like, “Where is the Final Frontier? What happened to Elvis?” with interactive games, “circus, burlesque, comedy and music.” And, at Fox Cabaret on May 8, 7 p.m., is Carnival for the Festival, an In the House fundraiser.

“People should expect to dance lots, hear some fabulous music and be entertained by roving stiltwalkers,” said Steinberg about the New Orleans-themed event. “There will also be chocolate fountains and a silent auction. The fundraiser is raising money to help pay for performer fees and equipment for the 11th Annual In the House Festival.”

The breadth of the festival – the aforementioned 80-plus performers this year – “allows us to provide a perfect avenue for a cross-cultural, interdisciplinary experience that audiences wouldn’t get anywhere else,” she added. “Coming to the fundraiser and/or donating to the In the House Festival allows us to maintain a high calibre of performance and enables us to keep building audiences for deserving performers. A city that is vibrant, with solid community and a strong cultural foundation, is crucial to living in a happy, interesting and inspiring place.”

Tickets for Carnival for the Festival are $40 (includes a cocktail) and are available at inthehousefestival.com, 604-874-9325 or [email protected]. Information about In the House Festival, June 6-8, can also be found on the website.

Olga Livshin is a Vancouver freelance writer. She can be reached at [email protected].

Killer Joe depicts unhappy family’s destruction

Killer Joe tells the story of a greedy, vindictive famly. (photo by Andrew Klaver)

A crazy, violent, Texas family plots a murder in the play Killer Joe. Playwright Tracy Letts has a way with lousy families and their dangerous disputes. Letts also wrote August: Osage County, about another angry family, the recent film version of which had an all-star cast. A 2011 film version of Killer Joe starred Matthew McConaughey. With this production of the play, director Chelsea Haberlin creates a compelling portrait of an unhappy family’s destruction after it invites a devil into its midst.

Killer Joe was first produced for the stage in 1993 but it is set in the 1970s in a mobile home somewhere in Texas. This is only the second site-specific production by Vancouver’s Itsazoo Productions, and it is a great success. The site for this piece is a small, portable building in the parking lot of the Italian Cultural Centre. The interior is dressed to look like a mobile home.

The story follows a family in which Ansel (Ted Cole) and his adult son, Chris (Sebastien Archibald), conspire to kill Ansel’s former wife (Chris’ mother) to collect the insurance money. Chris’ sister, Dottie (Meaghan Chenosky), they know, is beneficiary of the $50,000 policy. They hire a hit man, Joe (Colby Wilson), who agrees to the hit but, as a retainer against full payment, demands Dottie as his sex slave. Ansel and Chris agree, and Chris’ mild-mannered, innocent sister is served up to this vile character. The balance of the play chronicles the family’s destruction at the hands of Joe. For almost the whole play, the family awaits word that the murder has occurred. Although the primary story is about a planned hit, the real story is about Dottie: how the young woman is degraded and betrayed by her own terrible family and how she survives.

The 35-member audience (a full house) is crowded into a small, temporary building decorated inside to feel like a real mobile home. The audience lines two walls, putting us only a foot or less from the action. We are the invisible inhabitants of a tiny battleground.

The real star of this show is the artistic collaboration between set, lighting and sound designers who create the home of a poverty-stricken Texas family. Set and lighting designer Lauchlin Johnston dresses the scene with ugly period furniture. Above the sink is a large Confederate flag. He cleverly turns night into day by shining “sunlight” through the mobile home’s real windows. He also manages lightning, gloom and total blackouts with dramatic effect. Sound by Mishelle Cuttler gives us thunder and rain from outside, the frequent barking of a neighbor’s dog, and poor sound quality for the country music broadcast from a cheap transistor radio that sits on the set. The effect of all this work is a perfect illusion. We are inside a mobile home in 1970s Texas.

Chenosky is excellent as the shy and innocent Dottie. In an early scene, she and Joe are alone in the kitchen as he tries to seduce her but ends up demanding her sexual obedience. We watch Chenosky operate a character who moves from shyness to fear and then to emotionless acquiescence. Her performance is devastating as she becomes emotionally numb in preparation for the inevitable (offstage) assaults. Chenosky’s Dottie captures the character’s poor self-esteem and an apparent history of mistreatment. It’s a heart-breaking portrait. The destruction of women by cruel and stupid men is a core theme of this play.

The other power in the show belongs to Joe, the hit man. Wilson is an imposing figure. He is physically large and carries himself with an air of authority. He is a cop, after all. Colby’s performance allows us to see the quiet cruelty of which humans are capable. Through movement and voice he establishes the play’s underlying tone of menace.

This production goes off the rails about 20 minutes before it ends. Once the main action of the play is resolved, the story shifts to Joe and Dottie in a way that is not supported by the direction. It becomes apparent the play is really about what will happen to Dottie, but that has been unclear to this point. That leaves the end of the play a drawn-out affair with no story left to tell.

Overall, however, this second site-specific production by Itsazoo is excellent. We can look forward to the next surprising and compelling work that takes us out of the comfort zone of a standard theatre.

Killer Joe runs until May 4 in the parking lot of the Italian Cultural Centre, 3075 Slocan St. Tickets, $20/$25, can be purchased at itsazoo.org or Brown Paper Tickets.

Michael Groberman is a Vancouver freelance writer.