How creating for young audiences returned hope I’m standing in the middle of the magnificent Royal Alexandra Theatre, looking out at 1, 244 red velvet seats spread three-tiers high. It’s breathtaking. A chance to perform centre stage here is always both exhilarating and terrifying. I’m a standby in the Toronto Company of Come From Away. … Continued
At the time, the title of “Director” terrified me for many reasons—I knew that it required a lot of work to lead a production, but I wasn’t really sure what the job requirements were, especially when pulling double-duty as an actor and director.
It feels strange to say I miss you – it feels stranger to say I don’t.
Ever since I was young, when I’ve felt overwhelmed by the perils of day-to-day life, I’ve imagined myself as a spaceman in my own ship. I drift through the cosmos and land on a bioluminescent planet whose only source of light comes from the natural vegetation. There I sit and look up at the stars.
The live performance of Quiver seems a distant memory, a relic of the less suffocating weeks of COVID-19 restrictions. Almost like a miracle, Quiver was performed in the brief moment of time when it was possible.
It felt liberating. To stop trying to adapt. To just let go. But, of course, it also feels like a betrayal.
Ali Joy Richardson is a writer, teacher, theatre director, and future therapist. She is also very tall.
In 1987 I was hired by the Rolling Thunder Theatre Company for a ten-week contract. Brainstorm with the cast, write and direct a new play, then wave bon voyage as the Thunder van ambled off for ten months of touring.
I had just been complaining that I never have enough time to do shrooms.
While you don’t have to look far in the business world to find someone offering a course on “how to find your purpose,” I have noticed that purpose is rarely discussed in the arts world. It’s almost like it’s expected and assumed that everyone knows why they’re an artist.
Just like normal: don’t feel bad to charge for your art. Artists deserve to get paid— and if we aren’t paid we will have to stop making art.
Through it all, screwball comedies are about love, which is what I’m clinging to right now during this chaotic time.
As I write this, I must simply, wholeheartedly say that I miss them. I miss the room. I miss sharing my passion with you, those who would practice with me.
In this time, the world is healing because of distance. To protect each other, we stay away. I realize now that the distance is beautiful, because we get to share it, and share across it. It is the essence of what brings us together, and it begins in the cocoon of our individual mindsets.
Eurythmy comes from the Greek, meaning beautiful, harmonious rhythm; the eurythmist is always searching for an ever-new awareness of space and movement.
New stories require a new framework. What does it mean to create a performance that truly works for a Disabled body, on its terms?