Trident Dabbles in Podcasting

       Due to this once-a-century pandemic, performing artists have had to completely re-imagine what live performances mean, or if live performance could even happen without jeopardizing the safety of everyone involved.  Frankly, depending on whether or not life can return to something resembling normalcy anytime soon, this is the status quo: if we don’t reinvent the wheel right now, what else can we do?

    For Trident, reinventing the wheel means figuring out how this pandemic is affecting the theatre community at large, and reminding it that it is a community.  Everyday on Twitter, I read the laments of understanding theatre artists who see the reason why most performance venues are shut down, but miss the times that were, and the sense of belonging to a group of people with whom they shared a somewhat transcendent connection.  Cue the musketeers: “One for all, and all for one!”

    Therefore, I’ve chosen to begin a podcast.  The main topic will be theatre history, more specifically some of the unusual stories and absurd nuances that have enraptured me or that have made me shake my head.  But all have made theatre my lifelong study and chosen practice.

    For each episode, I speak with a guest who I have met through my many years of study and work in theatre.  Some of these guests are local, but many are far away from Sheridan.  Overall, the fact that we have a few common connectors does in a way show that we are all in this together.  We are all affected by this, and we can all make something of it.

    The title of the podcast is the punchline of the favorite joke told my old college theatre instructor, Tom Empey. Besides being the most influential theatre mentor I had, Tom instilled in me such deep love and respect for the art, and at the same time the ability to acknowledge and enjoy some of the oddball turns that the art has made in its evolution.  Tom died in 2016, and I credit most of my successes to him. He was a great man.

    When teaching Ancient Greek Theatre, amongst the glossary of terms to know are the influential tragic playwright Euripides (sounded out: you-RIP-a-deez), and the tragedy by Aeschylus titled The Eumenides (sounded out: you-MEN-a-deez).  After thoroughly explaining the significant impact of the two terms in a very stoic and scholarly manner, Tom would look at us and pinch the fabric of his slacks by his knee.  He’d say, “You see these pants?  Euripides, Eumenides.”  The term “dad joke” doesn’t even begin to cover it.  Nonetheless, a moment of levity was achieved in the midst of what could be otherwise considered fairly dry material.

    That’s precisely what I mean to do with my podcast: Euripides, Eumenides. I mean to inject just a little more humor into the world today as I discuss bizarre and often hilarious stories from the history of theatre with a friend who has no prior knowledge of what will be discussed in the episode.  This way, with the element of surprise, the guest has the opportunity to react more honestly, much as we are challenged to do with a role we would take onstage.  

    Even if you’re not a student of theatre history, these stories and the interactions with my guests give some light to our somewhat bleak current circumstances.  Even with the promise of a vaccine, we may still be in this for the long haul.  So, feel free to laugh a little, and possibly learn some things about why we, as the theatre community, keep practicing this art.

    I’ve already got a few episodes done, and I plan to make them available in the new year on all major podcast providers.  If you want to know more information, I’m always happy to hear from you!  Feel free to write me: trident@tridenttheatre.com

    I’ll see you at intermission (when we can have one of those again, that is)!

Rediscovery Version 2.0

 

Rediscovery, Take 2

This past spring, my time ended as the full-time Theatre Instructor at Sheridan College.  The position was always interim, which by definition, is unfortunately finite. 

At this point, I must publicly thank my faculty partner Stephanie Koltiska for all her support, engagement, and positive collaboration.  We did great big things together and I wouldn’t have made it through the last two years without her, the angel on my shoulder.  She’s going to continue doing some amazing things for that college and her students, and if you invest in Stephanie and her program, you’ll be proud that you did.  She’s a gem, folks.

Transition always allows the opportunity to reflect.  But moments of nostalgia and self-evaluation should be similar to the interim nature of my Theatre Instructor position: finite.  So, now that that chapter in my life is over, I’m wondering what some of you might be wondering: what am I going to do next.  Well, I’ve got some ideas brewing.

The lockdown earlier this year and the following months have allowed me the opportunity to recharge my creative batteries, as they were nearly spent.  In that recharge, I reminded myself what truly matters to me about the delivery of my artistic product.  

A mentor of mine once told me that theatre must be for the community in which it is delivered, otherwise the message doesn’t land.  Allow me to translate.  One of the original purposes of theatre that has maintained its presence throughout theatre history is to allow the audience the chance to view itself in a controlled format in order to correct any damaging practices.  If theatre doesn’t engage, sustain, progress, or challenge a community (yes, challenge – but much as an instructor would challenge a student to learn), then the art form may not have a purpose in the community.  I wholeheartedly believe that theatre has a place in this community.  Your consistent patronage has shown me that, Sheridan.  So, I look forward to developing a theatre product directed at you ... and beyond

I looked back at the mission and vision statements for my production company, Trident Theatre.  Feel free to go look at them as well at tridenttheatre.com.  Despite not devoting myself to the development of my brand for the past two years, my mission and vision statements remain true.  Trident “strives to … [remain] progressive and relevant in the creation of its product…” and “… connect audiences to theatrical experiences on a visceral level that demand conversation long after the theatrical event is over.”

So, what does this mean?  The theatrical community as a whole has also taken a punch.  At this time, Broadway theaters are closed until at least January, and I’d be surprised if the Great White Way opens even then, and thousands of other theatrical communities throughout the world are facing similar challenges.  So, what is the future of live performance?

I’m looking at several options for myself and Trident.  I’m currently working on several productions for the Sheridan area.  I’m also looking to expand the “community” with podcasts, and I hope to launch my own after Thanksgiving.  I’m working on models for acting lessons, and for consultation for dramatic experiences.  Mainly, the goal is to connect people to those “visceral experiences” I tout in my mission statement, and to help theatre evolve to a point where it is safe for COVID times and beyond, and relevant to the time in which it is presented.

If you'd like to know more, how you can get involved, or just would like to connect, Trident has platforms on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter, or you can just write me at trident@tridenttheatre.com.  I'd love to hear from you!

I’ll see you at intermission!

** This post was originally written in May 2020.  Feel free to read through prior blog entries to find the original!**

Rediscovery

Rediscovery

This past week marked my final week as the full-time Theatre Instructor at Sheridan College for the foreseeable future.  The position was always interim, which by definition, is unfortunately finite.  I consider it a privilege to have worked for the division of Visual and Performing Arts in the capacity that I did, and I’m not entirely vanishing from the department in the future.  I get to teach a class this fall with a lot of the students I recruited; a great group of hungry minds. 

At this point, I must publicly thank my faculty partner Stephanie Koltiska for all her support, engagement, and positive collaboration.  We did great big things together and I wouldn’t have made it through the last two years without her, the angel on my shoulder.  She’s a gem, folks.

Transition always allows the opportunity to reflect.  As I look back on the last two years of work, under fast-paced conditions in which long-term planning almost didn’t exist, I had my successes, to greater or lesser degrees.  Within that time, I directed more plays than any other time in my life.  Some of them came together weeks before opening, some of them came together mere hours before opening.  The students grew and adapted to new concepts, and faced introspective challenges, as should happen in college. 

For me, I learned just how much I could do in a two-year long title fight, and in this case my opponent was my own ambition.  My ambition allowed me to take a punch or two, but give them back just as hard or harder.  Some of them were knockout blows, and some of them were well-timed surprise hits that managed to increase my stamina over time.  In this quarantine, I’ve developed a rekindled love for the sweet science.  I’m prone to metaphor, as you may have noticed from prior entries. I appreciate your indulgence.

But moments of nostalgia and self-evaluation should be similar to the interim nature of my Theatre Instructor position: finite.  And, as I mentioned earlier, I didn’t have a lot of time for long-term planning.  At this point, I’m wondering what some of you might be wondering: what am I going to do next.  To be honest with you, I’m not quite sure yet.  But I’ve got some ideas brewing.

This period of lockdown has allowed me the opportunity to recharge my creative batteries, as they were nearly spent.  In that recharge, I reminded myself what truly matters to me about the delivery of my artistic product.  A mentor of mine once told me that theatre must be for the community in which it is delivered, otherwise the message doesn’t land.  Allow me to translate.  One of the original purposes of theatre that has maintained its presence throughout theatre history is to allow the audience the chance to view itself in a controlled format in order to correct any damaging practices.  If theatre doesn’t engage, sustain, progress, or challenge a community (yes, challenge – but much as an instructor would challenge a student to learn), then the art form may not have a purpose in the community.  I wholeheartedly believe that theatre has a place in this community.  Your consistent patronage has shown me that, Sheridan.  So, I look forward to developing a theatre product directed at you. 

I looked back at the mission and vision statements for my production company, Trident Theatre.  Feel free to go look at them as well at tridenttheatre.com.  The rest of the site could use some updating, but hey – I’ve been a tad busy the past couple years.  Moreover, my mission and vision statements remain true.  Trident “strives to … [remain] progressive and relevant in the creation of its product…” and “… connect audiences to theatrical experiences on a visceral level that demand conversation long after the theatrical event is over.”

So, what does this mean?  I will remain committed to creating theatre projects that are relevant and relatable to this community.  How will I deliver that?  Not sure yet.  But, here are some idea floating around in my head: new plays (or maybe older) that address the current human condition, classes or forums on film and theatre styles, possibly acting lessons for students and adults (this stuff is useful both on and off stage – I promise), and experiences that allow us to appreciate our collective culture.  Sounds ambitious right?  Well, to be honest, the bell has rung and I’m still in my corner recovering from the last round.  But, you should see the other guy.
If you'd like to know more, how you can get involved, or just would like to connect, Trident has platforms on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter, or you can just write me at trident@tridenttheatre.com.  I'd love to hear from you!

I’ll see you at intermission!