Stone by Stone: In Conversation with The First Stone’s Donna-Michelle St. Bernard and Nawa Simon
“It’s important to move forward with love and hope because to choose any other path will just elongate how long you are uncomfortable.”
“It’s important to move forward with love and hope because to choose any other path will just elongate how long you are uncomfortable.”
“I look to the theatre [as] something that actually takes me away from the moment, for a moment. Not escapism — perspective.”
“We need to demand different structures, dream different structures, build structures. And that desire is expressed, I hope, in the shows we’ll see onstage this season,” says Kitz.
My process with solo shows involves sharing bits of text with audiences when I don’t really know where it’s going, or how it’s going to end. I’m pivoting myself to the responses from the audience — I sniff out where I want to go, and how I want to shape the piece. Through creating solo shows, I discovered how much I love this direct, unfettered relationship with an audience.
If Canadian Theatre were to say, “it’s not you, it’s me,” it would be true. But has that line ever actually made anyone feel better?
“It’s beautiful and strange, the permanence of it,” says Cushman of Lessons in Temperament. “Every time we chose a take, we had to be, like, ‘okay, that’s the way it is forever.’ We’ve really been grappling with permanence in relation to it.”
To be totally clear, I was not forced into creating a TV show inspired by some of my life events in which I would also play the lead character. I wanted this.
It was summer of 1982, and my parents had enrolled me in Camp Cabot, a day camp run by the St. John’s YMCA. Every morning I, along with the sixty other campers and a dozen teenage counsellors, travelled on rickety school buses to reach the campsite, a vast, wooded area a few kilometres outside the … 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.
Ali Joy Richardson is a writer, teacher, theatre director, and future therapist. She is also very tall.
Martha never thought she would be a director. As far as experience had taught her, directors were men. There were a few female directors that she was aware of, but it wasn’t the norm […] Directing jobs at The Grand and Tarragon followed, and Martha felt she always had to get over the initial hurdle of colleagues accustomed to only working with a male director. Technicians made fun of her if she asked what they felt was a stupid question, or ignored her if the question was smart
Though feminism had of course been around for years, it had become a pressing topic for their generation at that time. And as women working in the theatre. “We were trying to establish ourselves as people in an industry that usually looked upon us as less than,” says Martha, “and as adjuncts, and as supporters, and subordinates.”
Pass Over puts audiences in an uncomfortable position, and I think that’s necessary. Sometimes the people who have been comfortable the longest need to be uncomfortable for a change.
Had things gone differently with Soulpepper’s programming, another production entirely might have been in its place this season. And, had things gone differently in Jani’s early years as an artist, she might not have grown into the fierce matriarch of Indigenous theatre that she is.
“There is a deep history between Nelson Mandela and Toronto. It was so important for this exhibit to come to Toronto and for the people here to have a chance to see it, interact with it, and really remember Mandela and what he stood for in terms of equity, equality, and diversity.”