Photo courtesy of Hamilton at Mirvish / Photo by Joan Marcus via Now
Imagine it’s a Thursday night and you are eagerly walking into the lobby of a theatre downtown, excited to see *insert your favourite theatrical production* live. (My personal favourite is A Streetcar Named Desire by Tenessee Williams, in case you were wondering.) Anyways, carrying on — you enter the lobby and hear some light tunes in the background, you walk up to the Box Office, grab your tickets and maybe grab a glass of wine before the show starts, (I know I definitely would).
Taking in your surroundings you see other audience members add to the ambiance, you see the hipsters, the elderly white couple who remind you of your friendly next door neighbours, and a few theatre critics with notepads wearing long trench coats (yes, they look like detectives.) Before you know it, it is time to make your way inside the theatre.
As you funnel into this magical room, you can feel an energy of excitement and curiosity buzz through the audience. The lights go dark momentarily, and the show begins.
Ah, what a beautiful world we lived in before COVID-19, a world where you could actually walk into a theatre and experience a story come to life. Where you could see actors in flesh, reacting to some of the most outrageous, complicated, and wholesome human experiences. Where you were able to escape from your own life and invest into the lives of the characters on stage, even if it was just for a few hours.
But now? Now we are stuck in the wake of this apocalyptic world. And our collective need for arts, culture, and media has ever increased. Many of us spend hours, if not our entire day staring at screens. Whether you’re on your laptop responding to emails, binging Netflix, going down a rabbit hole on youtube, or attending Zoom meetings, we are all transfixed by our devices. And to escape the pain of actually living in this disastrous world, we take to art to fill the voids, to calm the anxiety, and to find escapes from the external chaos headlining the news.
For the theatre lovers out there, man is this ever a complex time. A time where theatre-makers’ intimate dance of story-telling with an audience has completely transformed to the digital sphere or for many, has come to an abrupt pause. And for some theatre companies, unfortunately, to an end.
On the flip side of this coin, theatre has become more accessible and affordable— practically free—now that it is online. The barriers of entry are being shattered, as more people are gaining free training online and theatre companies, especially in light of the Black Lives Matter Movement, are reinvesting in equity in the arts.
But how and what exactly is happening you ask?
Before we get into it, let’s start by analyzing theatre in Toronto, pre-COVID. Don’t be afraid to get critical here.
Theatre in Toronto, especially well-known stages like Soulpepper Theatre and Mirvish have a traditional audience, higher middle-class to upper-class white folk who have the means to attend shows that cost upwards of $50 per person. For a working-class coloured family, taking your four children to a theatre may just not be the reasonable weekend bargain deal you were looking for.
For many, theatre is viewed as a space for an elite minority, impenetrable by the working class, especially those who are not upper-class and white. This goes beyond just speaking about audience members, but extends to representation within productions and in theatre leadership circles.
So what is transforming?
In conversation with the Arts, Culture and Media Chair at UTSC and theatre scholar, Dr. Barry Freeman, he said, “Theatre, and live performance with a live audience generally, has been one of the most vulnerable practices to the global pandemic, with activity shrinking to nearly nothing since the shutdown in Spring 2020. It’s historically devastating, and those who make a primary living off of art-making are challenged.”
He adds, “One silver lining, arguably, is that it has ended “business-as-usual” in the industry, forcing institutions and artists to question just about everything about how they operate, ultimately leading to changes that are very much still underway. The additional, continued crisis of anti-black racism has amplified this sense by catalyzing discussions about the persistent whiteness of Canadian art institutions, especially in large institutions and leadership positions.”
Many Toronto theatre companies like Volcano, Canadian Stage, and Soulpepper, have published statements in regards to solidarity and allyship with black and indigenous communities. Some more provocative than others, but all making a statement of support and commitment to be more inclusive and self-aware in their practices.
Soulpepper Theatre, in their statement said, “...We have been reflecting on the ways we have been complicit in these systems...It wasn’t until ten years into our twenty-year history that we produced a play by a Black writer, and since then we have only produced four more.” The statement promised change by saying, “We recommit to representation from these communities on our stages, in our auditoriums, and with our staff; to creating a welcoming, safe and supportive space for all; and to invest in the future of the incredible Black artists who move and provoke us.”
The Canada Council for the Arts has just announced Jesse Wente as its new lead. Wente is an Anishinaabe artist and activist born and raised in Tkaronto, (the place in the water where the trees are standing.)
Reflecting on UTSC’s Arts, Media, and Culture (ACM) department, Dr. Freeman shares, “We are also taking anti-racism efforts very seriously. It’s first important to say that in our Department we already do a lot of work on diversity and inclusion, including doing better at hiring diverse faculty in recent years, making sure we are involving diverse artists in our residencies and programming, and sponsoring major projects every year via our Equity and Diversity in the Arts Initiative.”
The department is also working with the UTSC Equity, Diversity and Inclusion Office to decolonize the curriculum and work on the equity and access of “gatekeeping” practices within the department like auditions. Dr. Freeman adds, “Racism and unconscious bias works its way into our systems in subtle ways, and I am invested in coaxing those out to make our work more accountable, transparent, fair, and kind.”
Let’s go back to another current key shift in the theatre world, online programming. Many theatres are focusing on script reads, workshops, modified theatre productions, and artistic conversations via Zoom.
Soulpepper @Home, a rebranding since COVID-19 hit, has created a free online series, Fresh Ink, where artists have an opportunity to showcase their creativity and projects to a virtual audience who want to engage with theatre-makers. Many playwrights had the opportunity to read-a-loud some of the scripts they’re working on and other artists were in conversation about art and activism.
Many theatre companies have continued their work by hosting online workshops. Volcano, for example, has been hosting week long digital theatre conservatories via Zoom. Registration is free and on a first-come, first-serve basis. Classes are accessible to anyone who has a computer and stable Wi-Fi connection.
Hamilton, one of the world’s greatest musicals (actually, the world’s greatest musical) is now on Disney+, accessible to anyone who has a subscription. Tickets for the live show of Hamilton can range anywhere from $200 to $800 per person and above compared to purchasing a Disney+ subscription for $8.99 per month. (Definitely the greatest gift the world has received since the start of the pandemic.)
When asked about the UTSC Arts, Culture and Media department’s transition to the online sphere, Dr. Freeman said, “Locally, the ACM Department at UTSC has been hard at work dealing with both the pandemic and anti-racism. The staff and faculty worked hard every day between March and September to figure out how to deliver our curriculum online, and I’m proud of the fact that we are offering some version of nearly all our courses online, with few sacrifices. Who would’ve thought we could pull off an online version of Devising Theatre, Concert Band, or Painting and Sculpture? I hope that we are not only doing these things, but doing them well.”
Conscious of student-learning experiences and circumstances, he adds, “We know that the online situation does mean challenges for students in relation to equity and access; not everyone has the same access to technology, not everyone has a home situation amenable to studying, not everyone’s taking classes at the same time of day/night, and so on.”
Although these online options of engaging with theatre do not produce the same feelings of intimacy live art has, the ability for anyone to access knowledge and theatre has increased significantly.
We may not be physically entering a theatre anytime soon, but this period of transformation is fundamental to the network, ensuring that when we go back, it is an inclusive space. A space where not only the hipsters, the elderly white couple, and the theatre critics reside, but a space where coloured families and their children, people of varying physical abilities, and individuals from different classes have the opportunity to enjoy the magic and creation of live theatre.