Here I am, in Montreal on my computer. We did a quick walk of Old Montreal and my heart longs to go back. That will be done tomorrow, after the Indspire Conference is completed. http://indspire.ca/soaring Anyone want to volunteer to be a tour guide?
I still need to write a blog about my final trip to Stratford, with my friend, Mary. It was a perfect day in many ways. I finally say Much Ado, then cracked ribs laughing at The Matchmaker again. Maybe I'll do it tomorrow...or on the train back home on Wednesday.
60 Things I Learned This Season, in no particular order:
1 Buy early - I would have missed A Word or Two
2 There's enough on Stratfest's website to keep one happy over the winter.
3 Yes, one musical can change a life (Cordelia & 42nd Street).
4 Stratford employs wonderful people, on and off the stage, who almost always go that extra mile
5 Actors can improve a show over a matter of even a couple of weeks
6 Not enough praise goes to the costume designers or set designers or lighting designers or...
7 The look of the play can change dramatically from the first press shots to final stage production (ie - pictures of Sean Arbuckle as Pirate King, and Kyle Blair, are nothing like what ended up in the show).
8 Pay grade: Christopher Plummer is up here - everyone else is down here (Q&A with Sean A after 42nd Street)
9 Kids get Shakespeare when they see it better than when they read it (Luke at Cymbeline - 1st Shakespeare and he loved the entire 3 hours. He was 10 at the time).
10 Dressing kids up to see a play does help them to behave better.
11 Actors/actresses love knowing children are getting into the arts and will help them as much as they can with encouragement or answering questions
12 Dakota is the most shy child I have - he wouldn't go on camera for the Kids REact video.
13 If you don't ask, the answer is always no. Just ask!
14 A man should love and honour his girlfriend/wife as Cornelius Hackl does of Ms. Milloy
15 A good sword can be used in multiple plays and have a grand effect
16 Cymbeline - I doubt another Shakespeare play will ever attain this level of perfection again - but it will be fun trying
17 Bring kids to a beautiful spot to tell them news that may change their life forever. In that way, they will have a peaceful spot to remember the news (see blog on Hirsch)
18 Actors have an inner strength I can't understand (see Hirsch, but also Claire Lautier as Tamora in Titus from last year)
18 Everyone who works at Stratford makes it a success
19 Henry V- I didn't know one could ever miss a play, like a friend who moves away
20 Artists on Broadway help younglings reach for bigger dreams
21 Security on the Armouries is TIGHT but necessary!!
22 Question and answer moments on Stratfest's facebook helped us to learn a LOT
23 The Q&A's helped me to come up with Kids4Bard
24 One can act a really good French accent
25 Christopher Plummer can act, and has the best command of the English language I've witnessed
26 Going to a play alone is sometimes a good thing, but talking about a play with a child or friend afterwards may be necessary
27 Seeing other people's struggles onstage helps to bring my own solutions into focus (Wanderlust)
28 Hobbies for actors include: sewing, horse racing, and making perfumes (among others)
29 Happiness is reconnecting with a parent you thought you wouldn't feel close to again, ever
30 Stage Door meet & greets are always better when I'm with a child or a friend (I doubt I'll ever do one by myself, even if it was told me to I should - I'm too shy and would feel like a stalker)
31 Men who sing are fantazmazing.
32 Even the simplest of plays can be transformative (Charlie Brown)
33 I am completely jealous of women who sing (Ms. Peacock and Ms. Hutton)
34 Actors think Elvish is cool (Braeden feels like he found soulmates)
35 A man should do what you ask if they want to feel worthy of you (see Cornelius and Barnaby in Matchmaker)
36 Everyone remembers Cordelia.
37 Shirtless Wonders is a list which should grow every year.
38 Cara Ricketts is a wonderful human being - Cordelia wants to adopt her as a big sister she will never have
39 Closing night performances rip your heart out
40 I don't have a before/after theatre in my life - it's just always been there (thanks for helping me realize that, Josh)
41 building up A word or two to grandiose heights - and what I got out of it most was memories of my dad, and feeling like I was wrapped up in my favourite blanket
42 Tom Patterson Theatre is my favourite theatre
43 Backstage crew work long hours, after actors leave for drinks
44 Even a chorus girl can be a star
45 Nell and Pistol will stay with me forever - best love story of the season for me
46 I need Wanderlust on my ipod
47 Stratford Exhibition is one of my favourite places in the entire world - one day I'm going to retire there to volunteer
48 In first seasons, actors would stay with local families while the plays were going on (Sir Alec Guiness included)
49 It took around 14 hours to get costumes repaired and ready for 42nd Street's next performance
50 That look I saw in Cara's and Steve Ross' eyes... I got a glimpse into their hearts (see previous blogs)
51 Actors need to project at all times in case their microphones stop working
52 My kids really do love the theatre
54 I want someone to treat me like Cornelius wants to treat Ms. Milloy - every woman deserves that
55 Words are spectacular beings in their own right - how they are said, and how you receive are 2 different animals - domesticated or wild
56 We all need an adventure in our lives (I need to find that last monologue from Matchmaker and memorize it)
57 Introspection is rarely unfelt pain, but necessary to feel to get to where you want to be, or be who you want to become
58 Theatre creates safe zones for people (friends, strangers, family) to share their most intimate emotions, without fear of retaliation or of not being heard
59 Festival Theatre backstage is huge
60 Theatre can make you laugh as much as it can make you cry, but only if you open yourself up to your own emotions
I thought 60 would be hard to come up with, but I found I deleted some to add others. I may still have another 60 in my head...
Showing posts with label Christoper Plummer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Christoper Plummer. Show all posts
Monday, 5 November 2012
Sunday, 5 August 2012
17 Days until A Word or Two
What I've learned about Mr P on a personal level? He was (is?) shy, yet over confident. Loved his drink. Seems to always have held the Stratford Festival in highest regard, even if he was blacklisted for 3 seasons from it. He doesn't think velvet (or the over-use of velvet) should be used as costumes or for large hats. And, dressing rooms should always be above water level.
He had a respect for early tv; relatively none for it now. Listen to this:
pp 121 Those were the early warning signs that this explosive new invention was about to get out of hand and go too far, that one day soon it would tell us how to eat [I have to say it - formula and other junk food], how to dress, how to live. Drunk with power it could dictate policy, bring down corporations, swings elections, toppel governments. Newscasters were turned into opinionated superstars. Nothing would be sacred anymore, neither the dignityof high office nore the sanctity of the ruling classes. All would become an open book - what was caviar to the general was not popcorn for the masses. Today we have become quite accustomed to being fed intravenously with thirdrate dogma; like some insidious germ warfare it all seems painstakingly planned, carefully calculated. Oh, sometiems something fine comes along to momentarily redeem it, but not enough.
In the early fifties, however, television promised everything. There was nowhere it couldnèt go; its horizons were limitless. It was also wonderfully brave, young, fresh, even innocent.
Profound. Mr. P is a seer! Or at his age, 20/20 vision is in perfect focus.
Reading this book for the 3rd time, it astounds me what I missed my first rounds. First - the word "lugubrious" is a delicious-sounding word.
Christopher Plummer writes in the Queen's English. Yes, the "u's" make a difference!
There doesn't seem to be many Old Hollywood types with whom he did not act. The names are familiar to me because my dad would tell me about them, too. He'd tell me about the movies he would see when he was young. Seeing as my dad is only 3 weeks younger than Mr. P, it only makes sense. Perhaps that is why I find some refuge reading this book? If you're a new reader, you should also know that my dad is also French Canadian, but raised in a French neighbourhood, outside of Windsor, Ontario. He had school and church in French. I miss hearing him speak the language to his sisters. I miss him trying to help me read it. I was always a good French student because I wanted to make my dad proud. I sorely regret not keeping it. I can read it ok - which is helpful in this book because I can understand the bits of French Mr. P sneaks in.
Some of, well actually, a lot of Mr. P's break out came from him acting for a year down in Bermuda. He met people who would change his life: Edward Everett Horton and Ruth Chatterton. Mr. Horton gave him a job touring after Bermuda finished, and Ms. Chatterton connected him with the who's who in New York and, most importantly, Jane Broder - his first agent.
Mr. Broder bailed him out of trouble more times than I think even he admits in this book. He not only found him jobs. She paid debts, found him a place to stay - was a Mother Hen to him. It didn't seem she ever made a bad choice for him. My favourite quote of her by him is, "If Jane had ever looked Sin straight in the eye, Sin would have just wilted away, riddled with remorse." The times I have read this book, I always cry when she passes away. His writing makes us love her, too.
He meets lifelong friend, Roddy McDowall, who Mr. P grew up admiring as a child. At the inaugural season of the American Shakespeare Festival with Jerry Stiller, Jack Palance, and Raymond Massey. Jerry Stiller doing Shakespeare. With my generation growing up with him on Seinfeld, who woulda thunk it?
Pages 161 - 169 is the beginning of our mecca of Canadian Theatre - the Stratford Shakespeare Festival. The town truly rallied behind the dream of Tom Patterson's, "The little maker of miracles." We are also introduced to Tanya Moiseiwitsch, who left a mark on Stratford (set and costume design). Her stage was set under a circus tent (yes, even built by Skip Manley from Barnum and Bailey Circus) who even kept working to finish the tent when they ran out of money, as did other construction crew members. The Chicago Tribune said, "The Stratford Festival of Canada has been born with a silver spoon in its mouth. The New York Times said, "This is the sort of stage that lovers of Shakespeare have often dreamed about and seldom seen." Not bad for a first season!
For me, Mr. Patterson' vision is what brought me hear, on a magic carpet. If my mom hadn't seen Mr. P in Romeo & Juliet at Stratford while she was in high school, would I be searching out literature for my heart now? Would I be introducing my little ones (8-17) to Shakespeare? Kids4Bard is a success so far. Why? Because most of my children can explain A Midsummer Night's Dream in just a few minutes, longer if you let them use their paper dolls. They can explain Athenian clothes, why Lysander has brighter clothes than Demetrius, why Puck is a silly goofball, and steals the show. Not too bad. Thank you to Lisa and Christi at Stratford for forwarding our questions to Stratford cast members who do Q&A's on facebook. They are helping us immensely!
I decided after we 'finish' a Shakespeare play, we will pull out a book from A Word or Two to read, starting with Steven Leacock. My kids, especially the older ones, will love that!
The question is, I guess, how will this section get me ready for A Word or Two? It is the first time that I heard of Ibsen, Medea. He mentions authors I know (qu'elle suprise - TS Eliot, Tennessee Williams) and many I don't (list too long lol). It goes to prove my original thought for using this book as a text for books to read. My mom filled my heads with Brontes, Montgomery, a respect of Shakespeare of course, but never read it to/with me.
School gave me Shakespeare, Richler, Rostand, and Atwood. But never an Ibsen, nor the many playwrites still to be named. I feel so out of place, like my life is on another place where, though my imagination is good, my love of language was blocked. Can you love language if you only read Rostand or Shakespeare? Yes, but it's also like loving chocolate after only eating an Aero Bar - when there's double chocolate cheesecake to savour. Mr. Plummer is giving me, and my kids - some other plane of thoughts. I'm so excited for us!
Thanks, Mr. P!
He had a respect for early tv; relatively none for it now. Listen to this:
pp 121 Those were the early warning signs that this explosive new invention was about to get out of hand and go too far, that one day soon it would tell us how to eat [I have to say it - formula and other junk food], how to dress, how to live. Drunk with power it could dictate policy, bring down corporations, swings elections, toppel governments. Newscasters were turned into opinionated superstars. Nothing would be sacred anymore, neither the dignityof high office nore the sanctity of the ruling classes. All would become an open book - what was caviar to the general was not popcorn for the masses. Today we have become quite accustomed to being fed intravenously with thirdrate dogma; like some insidious germ warfare it all seems painstakingly planned, carefully calculated. Oh, sometiems something fine comes along to momentarily redeem it, but not enough.
In the early fifties, however, television promised everything. There was nowhere it couldnèt go; its horizons were limitless. It was also wonderfully brave, young, fresh, even innocent.
Profound. Mr. P is a seer! Or at his age, 20/20 vision is in perfect focus.
Reading this book for the 3rd time, it astounds me what I missed my first rounds. First - the word "lugubrious" is a delicious-sounding word.
Christopher Plummer writes in the Queen's English. Yes, the "u's" make a difference!
There doesn't seem to be many Old Hollywood types with whom he did not act. The names are familiar to me because my dad would tell me about them, too. He'd tell me about the movies he would see when he was young. Seeing as my dad is only 3 weeks younger than Mr. P, it only makes sense. Perhaps that is why I find some refuge reading this book? If you're a new reader, you should also know that my dad is also French Canadian, but raised in a French neighbourhood, outside of Windsor, Ontario. He had school and church in French. I miss hearing him speak the language to his sisters. I miss him trying to help me read it. I was always a good French student because I wanted to make my dad proud. I sorely regret not keeping it. I can read it ok - which is helpful in this book because I can understand the bits of French Mr. P sneaks in.
Some of, well actually, a lot of Mr. P's break out came from him acting for a year down in Bermuda. He met people who would change his life: Edward Everett Horton and Ruth Chatterton. Mr. Horton gave him a job touring after Bermuda finished, and Ms. Chatterton connected him with the who's who in New York and, most importantly, Jane Broder - his first agent.
Mr. Broder bailed him out of trouble more times than I think even he admits in this book. He not only found him jobs. She paid debts, found him a place to stay - was a Mother Hen to him. It didn't seem she ever made a bad choice for him. My favourite quote of her by him is, "If Jane had ever looked Sin straight in the eye, Sin would have just wilted away, riddled with remorse." The times I have read this book, I always cry when she passes away. His writing makes us love her, too.
He meets lifelong friend, Roddy McDowall, who Mr. P grew up admiring as a child. At the inaugural season of the American Shakespeare Festival with Jerry Stiller, Jack Palance, and Raymond Massey. Jerry Stiller doing Shakespeare. With my generation growing up with him on Seinfeld, who woulda thunk it?
Pages 161 - 169 is the beginning of our mecca of Canadian Theatre - the Stratford Shakespeare Festival. The town truly rallied behind the dream of Tom Patterson's, "The little maker of miracles." We are also introduced to Tanya Moiseiwitsch, who left a mark on Stratford (set and costume design). Her stage was set under a circus tent (yes, even built by Skip Manley from Barnum and Bailey Circus) who even kept working to finish the tent when they ran out of money, as did other construction crew members. The Chicago Tribune said, "The Stratford Festival of Canada has been born with a silver spoon in its mouth. The New York Times said, "This is the sort of stage that lovers of Shakespeare have often dreamed about and seldom seen." Not bad for a first season!
For me, Mr. Patterson' vision is what brought me hear, on a magic carpet. If my mom hadn't seen Mr. P in Romeo & Juliet at Stratford while she was in high school, would I be searching out literature for my heart now? Would I be introducing my little ones (8-17) to Shakespeare? Kids4Bard is a success so far. Why? Because most of my children can explain A Midsummer Night's Dream in just a few minutes, longer if you let them use their paper dolls. They can explain Athenian clothes, why Lysander has brighter clothes than Demetrius, why Puck is a silly goofball, and steals the show. Not too bad. Thank you to Lisa and Christi at Stratford for forwarding our questions to Stratford cast members who do Q&A's on facebook. They are helping us immensely!
I decided after we 'finish' a Shakespeare play, we will pull out a book from A Word or Two to read, starting with Steven Leacock. My kids, especially the older ones, will love that!
School gave me Shakespeare, Richler, Rostand, and Atwood. But never an Ibsen, nor the many playwrites still to be named. I feel so out of place, like my life is on another place where, though my imagination is good, my love of language was blocked. Can you love language if you only read Rostand or Shakespeare? Yes, but it's also like loving chocolate after only eating an Aero Bar - when there's double chocolate cheesecake to savour. Mr. Plummer is giving me, and my kids - some other plane of thoughts. I'm so excited for us!
Monday, 30 July 2012
Day 23
I'm trying hard to keep this post about the book, but it has been such a dream come true day, I think I may just write what is on my mind tonight.
To get the full story, we need to go back a few years....
When I was in grades 11 & 12, my mom and I had seasons tickets to the Windsor Spitfires (just a few years ago). It was the Habs winning the Cup in 86 that got me into hockey. We weren't really a hockey family. I didn't know who Peter Puck was. I was behind, but quickly caught up, thanks to Ken Dryden's books.
The Spitfires went to my high school. Adam Graves, Peter Ing, Darryl and Darren Shannon, Glen Featherstone...They won the OHL championship in 88 and just missed winning the CHL. Brilliant team. My favourite team they played was the Peterborough Petes (Corey Stillman still my favourite defenseman who played for them).
I went to Trent U in Peterborough. My treat to myself was seasons tickets to the Petes. Great players on those teams, too - Jassen Cullimore (about a foot taller compared to Corey Stillman), Chris Pronger.
My birthday treats during my 4 years there were game worn jerseys of Stillman (#3) and Cullimore (#22). My prized possessions.
During my years in Peterborough, I went Trent with a few players (one also hit me with a puck at a game - thanks, Jamie). I also developed my own stat sheet to keep me busy during the games. I was not a 'puck bunny'. I was competely a fan of the game. My stat sheet kept track of not just the usual goals and penalties, but also lines and face-offs (everything except how many times Pronger touched his helmet, as my seat neighbours said). I wish I could remember what it looked like. I could have made a fortune.
I also auditioned to sing the US National Anthem at a game. I won. You see, I wanted to prove myself at that game against the Detroit jr team. I knew the coaches - Paul Maurice and Pete Deboer. I went to school with them. Pete was a great guy. Paul was, too, but I just knew Pete better.
My mom booked time off to come and see me sing. I bought her ticket. The day before, I called the Pete's head office and was told that they forgot about me and gave the game to someone else. I was brokenhearted. They gave my mom tickets to another game (I ended up singing 2X that year), but not for Pete and Paul. But, I did sing the game Cullimore came back from the World Juniors one year - a year they didn't place. A real tragedy for Canadian hockey fans that year.
I loved hockey with a passion then. When I wasn't doing school work, I was reading about hockey (my final paper for a 4th year history class was how the '72 series helped to heal the relations in our country and helped us to be united). I could name starting line ups for NHL teams, including naming what junior team they played for). Then I got married and had children. I didn't have time or money to put into hockey anymore. But I had my jerseys.
My jerseys stayed with me always. They were the most treasured items I owned. I wore them in all pregnancies. I wore them out and about. I guess because of my love for the Petes, and the years I lived in Peterborough, these jerseys became my comfort items.
I didn't realize until I started writing this blog that I lost Stillman's jersey when I lost Cullimore's in the house fire. Honestly, they are the only items I miss that I lost. It still makes my heart sad.
There's the background which makes today seem so surreal.
I asked for and was given the assignment by SNAP Haldimand-Norfolk to photograph the Stanley Cup celebrations in Simcoe (John Stevens, assistant coach) and Nelson Emerson (player development) both of the LA Kings. The Waterford event was awesome, in the true sense of the word. In Simcoe - I was Press and got into a press conference - one of the first few to see the beloved Stanley Cup on our hometurf.
Jassen Cullimore was there (he won a Cup with Tampa a while back - and dang, he is TALL without his skates). I finally introduced myself after all these years. Who would have thought that my love of hockey, my love of the Petes, would have culminated in ME covering a press conference with the Stanley Cup? Rob Blake was also there, and the formidable Red Kelly who won 8 Cups, including 4 with the Red Wings. He told a story of how his newborn child left a load in the Cup when he had it! Hilarious.
I introduced myself to Nelson Emerson by apologizing for burning his old house down. Yep - the house we lost, we were told, he used to live in. He said no, but it belonged to his sister. I asked him to send my apologies to her then (but I did it myself when I arrived in Waterford - beautiful sisters he has). I didn't have the heart to tell anyone about Stillman or Cullimore's jerseys.
Waterford had things so well arranged, so well prepared and had a fantastic turnout - more than Simcoe did, actually. The looks in those kids eyes were beautiful. I took some great pictures...better pictures than I did in Simcoe, actually. The camera was acting up there (it wasn't me, I swear). But Waterford was where the real action was, anyway.
I did get my picture with the Cup. We got our family pictures with the puck - we could TOUCH it! It felt sacreligious, almost.
Maybe it's because I'm older now, maybe it's because of my lookout on life because of our past year, but I can't say that what I did today was a 'dream come true'. It was incredible, amazing, something I couldn't have EVER dreamed would happen to me...but maybe the fact that I never did dream it, I can't say it's a dream come true. Who would have thought I'd become a photographer, anyway?
The question is now, how to relate it to Mr. Plummer's book. I think it is more of a dream come true that I get to attend Stratford, that I've been backstage at 2 of their theatres. My kids are in a promo video for them. I'm in a promo video for them (to be released). I've met Mr. Plummer, seen him on stage. I've met other actors/actresses - my favourite males and females (except one who shall remain my secret). I love this town!
Did my dreams just change? My love of theatre has always been there, since I was a wee girl. My mom raised me telling me about Stratford stories, sharing our love for Mercutio...
Nelson Emerson is the first player to play in the NHL from Waterford (coincidentally, he played jr B in Stratford - go figure). Then he received a scholarship to Bowling Green, from where he was drafted. No OHL experience. As his sister told him, it is every Canadian's dream to bring the Cup home. The pics of these hockey children (and their parents) were of total bliss. The local supermarket gave out free hotdogs and drinks. Breyers ice cream gave out free ice cream (as Breyers did in Simcoe's festivities).
He brought it home. I told one of my kids that it was like Paul Nolan, from a little town off 500 in Saskatchewan (if I remember correctly) and starred in a Tony-nominated musical. Who would have thought? I do think starring in a show equals winning the Cut, by the way - if you have to win by ballot, getting nominated IS like winning the Cup.
And what about Mr. Plummer? He won his Oscar (finally). A boy from a Montreal (ok, not such a small town), a principal actor at Stratford (small town) - he brought his Oscar home (well, maybe his Florida or Connecticut home). But, he will always be Oscar winning actor in his bio.
What did I learn tonight? Photojournalism is cut-throat. Jeepers.I got pushed aside by other photographers who completely ignored me. I must needs becomre more aggressive. The volunteers in Simcoe, and especially Waterford, were open and kind (and pointed out great shots to me). I can't live with tunnel vision. I probably missed at least a couple of shots because I refused to stand in someone's way. In the end - it was the pictures of the kids waiting, looking, and touching the Cup that I wanted to capture. In that, I was a success. When they are posted on-line, I'll post the link. Two pictures in particular stands out above the rest. The light in their eyes - their hockey dreams in their eyes....it was an honour to be able to save those moments.
I was with the family from 1130-7:00 tonight taking pictures and hanging out.
It was a great day. No complaints (except the other journalists). I just wish I could have worn my Cullimore jersey (it even had a skate cut mark on it...and fighting straps...sigh).
But who would have thought that my love of the Petes from Windsor days, prepared me for the Cup today? It IS surreal. I wouln't have belived it if someone told me 20 years ago.
Nya:weh for my paths in life meeting up today. I even met someone who was in Stratford over the weekend (a teacher from Brantford). It's becoming that Stratford people are finding me as much as I'm finding pregnant or breastfeeding or midwifery women. You attract what you love in life, I suppose.
And I still love hockey - and miss my jerseys...c'est la vie.
To get the full story, we need to go back a few years....
When I was in grades 11 & 12, my mom and I had seasons tickets to the Windsor Spitfires (just a few years ago). It was the Habs winning the Cup in 86 that got me into hockey. We weren't really a hockey family. I didn't know who Peter Puck was. I was behind, but quickly caught up, thanks to Ken Dryden's books.
The Spitfires went to my high school. Adam Graves, Peter Ing, Darryl and Darren Shannon, Glen Featherstone...They won the OHL championship in 88 and just missed winning the CHL. Brilliant team. My favourite team they played was the Peterborough Petes (Corey Stillman still my favourite defenseman who played for them).
I went to Trent U in Peterborough. My treat to myself was seasons tickets to the Petes. Great players on those teams, too - Jassen Cullimore (about a foot taller compared to Corey Stillman), Chris Pronger.
My birthday treats during my 4 years there were game worn jerseys of Stillman (#3) and Cullimore (#22). My prized possessions.
During my years in Peterborough, I went Trent with a few players (one also hit me with a puck at a game - thanks, Jamie). I also developed my own stat sheet to keep me busy during the games. I was not a 'puck bunny'. I was competely a fan of the game. My stat sheet kept track of not just the usual goals and penalties, but also lines and face-offs (everything except how many times Pronger touched his helmet, as my seat neighbours said). I wish I could remember what it looked like. I could have made a fortune.
I also auditioned to sing the US National Anthem at a game. I won. You see, I wanted to prove myself at that game against the Detroit jr team. I knew the coaches - Paul Maurice and Pete Deboer. I went to school with them. Pete was a great guy. Paul was, too, but I just knew Pete better.
My mom booked time off to come and see me sing. I bought her ticket. The day before, I called the Pete's head office and was told that they forgot about me and gave the game to someone else. I was brokenhearted. They gave my mom tickets to another game (I ended up singing 2X that year), but not for Pete and Paul. But, I did sing the game Cullimore came back from the World Juniors one year - a year they didn't place. A real tragedy for Canadian hockey fans that year.
I loved hockey with a passion then. When I wasn't doing school work, I was reading about hockey (my final paper for a 4th year history class was how the '72 series helped to heal the relations in our country and helped us to be united). I could name starting line ups for NHL teams, including naming what junior team they played for). Then I got married and had children. I didn't have time or money to put into hockey anymore. But I had my jerseys.
My jerseys stayed with me always. They were the most treasured items I owned. I wore them in all pregnancies. I wore them out and about. I guess because of my love for the Petes, and the years I lived in Peterborough, these jerseys became my comfort items.
I didn't realize until I started writing this blog that I lost Stillman's jersey when I lost Cullimore's in the house fire. Honestly, they are the only items I miss that I lost. It still makes my heart sad.
There's the background which makes today seem so surreal.
I asked for and was given the assignment by SNAP Haldimand-Norfolk to photograph the Stanley Cup celebrations in Simcoe (John Stevens, assistant coach) and Nelson Emerson (player development) both of the LA Kings. The Waterford event was awesome, in the true sense of the word. In Simcoe - I was Press and got into a press conference - one of the first few to see the beloved Stanley Cup on our hometurf.
Jassen Cullimore was there (he won a Cup with Tampa a while back - and dang, he is TALL without his skates). I finally introduced myself after all these years. Who would have thought that my love of hockey, my love of the Petes, would have culminated in ME covering a press conference with the Stanley Cup? Rob Blake was also there, and the formidable Red Kelly who won 8 Cups, including 4 with the Red Wings. He told a story of how his newborn child left a load in the Cup when he had it! Hilarious.
I introduced myself to Nelson Emerson by apologizing for burning his old house down. Yep - the house we lost, we were told, he used to live in. He said no, but it belonged to his sister. I asked him to send my apologies to her then (but I did it myself when I arrived in Waterford - beautiful sisters he has). I didn't have the heart to tell anyone about Stillman or Cullimore's jerseys.
Waterford had things so well arranged, so well prepared and had a fantastic turnout - more than Simcoe did, actually. The looks in those kids eyes were beautiful. I took some great pictures...better pictures than I did in Simcoe, actually. The camera was acting up there (it wasn't me, I swear). But Waterford was where the real action was, anyway.
I did get my picture with the Cup. We got our family pictures with the puck - we could TOUCH it! It felt sacreligious, almost.
Maybe it's because I'm older now, maybe it's because of my lookout on life because of our past year, but I can't say that what I did today was a 'dream come true'. It was incredible, amazing, something I couldn't have EVER dreamed would happen to me...but maybe the fact that I never did dream it, I can't say it's a dream come true. Who would have thought I'd become a photographer, anyway?
The question is now, how to relate it to Mr. Plummer's book. I think it is more of a dream come true that I get to attend Stratford, that I've been backstage at 2 of their theatres. My kids are in a promo video for them. I'm in a promo video for them (to be released). I've met Mr. Plummer, seen him on stage. I've met other actors/actresses - my favourite males and females (except one who shall remain my secret). I love this town!
Did my dreams just change? My love of theatre has always been there, since I was a wee girl. My mom raised me telling me about Stratford stories, sharing our love for Mercutio...
Nelson Emerson is the first player to play in the NHL from Waterford (coincidentally, he played jr B in Stratford - go figure). Then he received a scholarship to Bowling Green, from where he was drafted. No OHL experience. As his sister told him, it is every Canadian's dream to bring the Cup home. The pics of these hockey children (and their parents) were of total bliss. The local supermarket gave out free hotdogs and drinks. Breyers ice cream gave out free ice cream (as Breyers did in Simcoe's festivities).
He brought it home. I told one of my kids that it was like Paul Nolan, from a little town off 500 in Saskatchewan (if I remember correctly) and starred in a Tony-nominated musical. Who would have thought? I do think starring in a show equals winning the Cut, by the way - if you have to win by ballot, getting nominated IS like winning the Cup.
And what about Mr. Plummer? He won his Oscar (finally). A boy from a Montreal (ok, not such a small town), a principal actor at Stratford (small town) - he brought his Oscar home (well, maybe his Florida or Connecticut home). But, he will always be Oscar winning actor in his bio.
What did I learn tonight? Photojournalism is cut-throat. Jeepers.I got pushed aside by other photographers who completely ignored me. I must needs becomre more aggressive. The volunteers in Simcoe, and especially Waterford, were open and kind (and pointed out great shots to me). I can't live with tunnel vision. I probably missed at least a couple of shots because I refused to stand in someone's way. In the end - it was the pictures of the kids waiting, looking, and touching the Cup that I wanted to capture. In that, I was a success. When they are posted on-line, I'll post the link. Two pictures in particular stands out above the rest. The light in their eyes - their hockey dreams in their eyes....it was an honour to be able to save those moments.
I was with the family from 1130-7:00 tonight taking pictures and hanging out.
It was a great day. No complaints (except the other journalists). I just wish I could have worn my Cullimore jersey (it even had a skate cut mark on it...and fighting straps...sigh).
But who would have thought that my love of the Petes from Windsor days, prepared me for the Cup today? It IS surreal. I wouln't have belived it if someone told me 20 years ago.
Nya:weh for my paths in life meeting up today. I even met someone who was in Stratford over the weekend (a teacher from Brantford). It's becoming that Stratford people are finding me as much as I'm finding pregnant or breastfeeding or midwifery women. You attract what you love in life, I suppose.
Monday, 30 April 2012
I'm ba-ack
Long time, no write. To say life got in the way, would be true, but also a cop-out. This blog is cathartic for me, even if I haven't opened my soul much in the lists of authors, actors, and anything else from Mr. P's book.
I have started reading one of the books from the long list. For my birthday (plus 2 weeks for shipping), I was given, "Nonsense Novels." by Stephen Leacock. I'm almost done (it reminds me of the small-size books I read as a child).
What have I been doing the past month? My oldest son was in The Music Man at his high school. He was in the chorus and had a great time. There were many rehearsals, on the opposite nights of the younglings' Willy Wonka rehearsals. Mondays through Thursdays were gone.
I started reading "Nonsense Novels" during Willy Wonka practises, but I found out I need a book in my hands - to smell the paper, to smell the ink, to underline and dog ear (Sharon would be so mad at me!). I stopped reading until the book came in. I've read half the book twice now. I cannot wait to share it with my children. Seeing as Youth Arts Week begins tomorrow, the 'something new' I challenged people to do with youth everyday for the next 7 days, will be reading "Q" to them. It's quite a funny story about phantasms and brokering a deal between the 2 worlds.
I also (finally), made it to an Art of Time Ensemble performance, "Russia in Exile." I have been volunteering with them for 3 seasons now. It's the other 'cultural' thing I do outside Stratford Festival. Andrew Burashko is the genius behind this musical vision. His plan was to make classical music accessible to those who wouldn't usually attend such things. It was here where I was first introduced to Lucy Peacock (of Stratford fame), the music of Bernard Herrman, as part of their incredible, "War of the Worlds" evening - where they portrayed the play as a radio show, complete with a foley artist. All my kids saw that. I do believe that was the first 'cultural' even they have seen, on that scale (they went to Stratford last year, but that's on a much larger scale).
The first half of the show, my mind wandered. The film by Tess Girard was splendid, but still my mind wandered. I spent the rest of the first half thinking about why I like theatre better - it forces you to not think about yourself, to be involved with the emotions of the characters on stage. When 'just' listening to music, my mind wandered. Until the 2nd half.
It was very hard to hear the first of the two shows I volunteered for that weekend. There was one particular composer, Glinka that actually hurt to hear. Andrew, the first night, warned us that it was haunting. That was an understatement. The chords sounded like nails on a chalkboard to me.
I wondered why, not in a mind-wandering way, but in a search the soul-of-the-music way. It really didn't take me long to discover, but I didn't want to agree. The music, the waltz that weaved itself in and out of that piece, kept me in check. That piece had 4 violins, piano, and clarinet. The clarinet was wistful, constant, and drove the piece.
The violins - there seemed to be no 'first' violin. They each took turns starting a phrase, with the others following suit, finishing, and bringing it back to the start. The piano's part was pushy, pushing, and angry at times. The whole piece seemed disjointed, but it was beautiful, but I fought hard to not let myself notice.
You see, in September we had a house fire. Then our car died. Then we separated. Then a flood at the new house. Then Jeff's dad died. Then another flood the day before the funeral. Our lives were disjointed - but we journeyed on.
I guess you could say I felt like the clarinet - springy, constant, the driving lines/force in the family. The violins were defintely the children - fighting each other, fighting me, fighting Jeff. Our community, the children's schools, our church, our larger community (including the Stratford Festival) were like the piano. It was their support that gave us our base, our hope when we had, literally, nothing but the clothes on our backs.
The song ended with a soulful melody, a hopeful melody, by the piano.
I wished I had a tissue. I was crying because of that ending; crying because I don't know if I'm there, sad because I don't know if I'll ever really get there; sad that we might be there and I not know it.
When I think of that composition, it is the clarinet's melody that stays with me, and the memory of hope at the end.
If we don't have hope, then what are we fighting for?
The second night, I brought Braeden (14) with me help with the merchandise table and listen to the magic of the music. Amy, another volunteer, told Braeden she knows someone who makes swords for a living...but that is a story for another time.
What does this have to do with, "In Spite of Myself?" Everything. The book is about the art around him - the art of words, the art of music, how the arts stir the soul, and make life worth living.
So, inspite of MY reading, my blog tonight is about the power of music. How, that even if you fight it, despite you fighting it, you can always get a message written just for you, by a composer decades ago.
I will get back to regular posting. There are stories from Mr. P's book I still need to discuss. There are hundreds of books I still need to read.
But tonight, I started with my heart. It has been disjointed. It has felt like I was the nail scratching down the chalkboard, or that I was the chalkboard being scratched. Does it matter? No. What matters is that we are still here. We are strong.
And, we have hope. I have hope of a life worth living - a life with culture because it is, as Kevin Spacey says, "culture is the magic of our experience." It's magical but you do the soulsearching to find their meaning.
I have started reading one of the books from the long list. For my birthday (plus 2 weeks for shipping), I was given, "Nonsense Novels." by Stephen Leacock. I'm almost done (it reminds me of the small-size books I read as a child).
What have I been doing the past month? My oldest son was in The Music Man at his high school. He was in the chorus and had a great time. There were many rehearsals, on the opposite nights of the younglings' Willy Wonka rehearsals. Mondays through Thursdays were gone.
I started reading "Nonsense Novels" during Willy Wonka practises, but I found out I need a book in my hands - to smell the paper, to smell the ink, to underline and dog ear (Sharon would be so mad at me!). I stopped reading until the book came in. I've read half the book twice now. I cannot wait to share it with my children. Seeing as Youth Arts Week begins tomorrow, the 'something new' I challenged people to do with youth everyday for the next 7 days, will be reading "Q" to them. It's quite a funny story about phantasms and brokering a deal between the 2 worlds.
I also (finally), made it to an Art of Time Ensemble performance, "Russia in Exile." I have been volunteering with them for 3 seasons now. It's the other 'cultural' thing I do outside Stratford Festival. Andrew Burashko is the genius behind this musical vision. His plan was to make classical music accessible to those who wouldn't usually attend such things. It was here where I was first introduced to Lucy Peacock (of Stratford fame), the music of Bernard Herrman, as part of their incredible, "War of the Worlds" evening - where they portrayed the play as a radio show, complete with a foley artist. All my kids saw that. I do believe that was the first 'cultural' even they have seen, on that scale (they went to Stratford last year, but that's on a much larger scale).
The first half of the show, my mind wandered. The film by Tess Girard was splendid, but still my mind wandered. I spent the rest of the first half thinking about why I like theatre better - it forces you to not think about yourself, to be involved with the emotions of the characters on stage. When 'just' listening to music, my mind wandered. Until the 2nd half.
It was very hard to hear the first of the two shows I volunteered for that weekend. There was one particular composer, Glinka that actually hurt to hear. Andrew, the first night, warned us that it was haunting. That was an understatement. The chords sounded like nails on a chalkboard to me.
I wondered why, not in a mind-wandering way, but in a search the soul-of-the-music way. It really didn't take me long to discover, but I didn't want to agree. The music, the waltz that weaved itself in and out of that piece, kept me in check. That piece had 4 violins, piano, and clarinet. The clarinet was wistful, constant, and drove the piece.
The violins - there seemed to be no 'first' violin. They each took turns starting a phrase, with the others following suit, finishing, and bringing it back to the start. The piano's part was pushy, pushing, and angry at times. The whole piece seemed disjointed, but it was beautiful, but I fought hard to not let myself notice.
You see, in September we had a house fire. Then our car died. Then we separated. Then a flood at the new house. Then Jeff's dad died. Then another flood the day before the funeral. Our lives were disjointed - but we journeyed on.
I guess you could say I felt like the clarinet - springy, constant, the driving lines/force in the family. The violins were defintely the children - fighting each other, fighting me, fighting Jeff. Our community, the children's schools, our church, our larger community (including the Stratford Festival) were like the piano. It was their support that gave us our base, our hope when we had, literally, nothing but the clothes on our backs.
The song ended with a soulful melody, a hopeful melody, by the piano.
I wished I had a tissue. I was crying because of that ending; crying because I don't know if I'm there, sad because I don't know if I'll ever really get there; sad that we might be there and I not know it.
When I think of that composition, it is the clarinet's melody that stays with me, and the memory of hope at the end.
If we don't have hope, then what are we fighting for?
The second night, I brought Braeden (14) with me help with the merchandise table and listen to the magic of the music. Amy, another volunteer, told Braeden she knows someone who makes swords for a living...but that is a story for another time.
What does this have to do with, "In Spite of Myself?" Everything. The book is about the art around him - the art of words, the art of music, how the arts stir the soul, and make life worth living.
So, inspite of MY reading, my blog tonight is about the power of music. How, that even if you fight it, despite you fighting it, you can always get a message written just for you, by a composer decades ago.
I will get back to regular posting. There are stories from Mr. P's book I still need to discuss. There are hundreds of books I still need to read.
But tonight, I started with my heart. It has been disjointed. It has felt like I was the nail scratching down the chalkboard, or that I was the chalkboard being scratched. Does it matter? No. What matters is that we are still here. We are strong.
And, we have hope. I have hope of a life worth living - a life with culture because it is, as Kevin Spacey says, "culture is the magic of our experience." It's magical but you do the soulsearching to find their meaning.
Tuesday, 20 March 2012
Last section of Book
This came fast, the end of the book. Now I must decide which author to begin. I'm thinking Kipling...
Rereading this book, it seems there are only a few of the great actors of our time he hasn't acted with - Kevin Spacy for one. You'd think with Kevin running the Old Vic, they would have crossed paths along the way.
This section also talks about "a word or two". I tweeted about it. Look for mytimeatlast.
Here's todays's list, read and posted on world day of theatre for children day. I'll post a couple of my favourite quotes, too. If I can figure out how..
March 20
Movies
Women in love
The music lovers
Cattle Annie and little britches
Pulp fiction
The fisherking
Needful things
So I married an axe murderer
Butterfly kiss
Malcolm X -mr p
Star Trek 6 - mr p
Wolf mr p
12 monkeys - mr p
Delores Claiborne
Nicholas nickleby mr p
Emma
Mr p movies
Syriana
The new world
Must love dogs
Alexander
Man in the Chair
Inside Man
Beautiful mind
The insider
Producers
Gareth drabinsky
Sonny Grosso
Todd Haimes
Directors
Robin Phillips
David jones
Spike lee
Nicholas Meyer
Mike Nichols
Terrence Gilliam
Taylor hackford
Michael Mann
Doug McGrath
Jonathan Miller
Ron Howard
Oliver stone
Steve gaghan
Lord Richard dicky Attenborough
Michael Schroeder
Actors
Alan scarfe
Liam neeson
Natasha Richardson
Max von sydow
Ed Harris
Denzel Washington
Michelle pfeiffer
Kathy Bates
Jennifer Jason leigh
Douglas Fairbanks jr
Al Pacino
Russell Crowe
Juliet Stevenson
Jim broadbent
Timothy spall
Tom courtenay
Barry humphries
Edward fox
Nathan lane
Anne Hathaway
Writers
Mr Somerset Maugham
Harold Pinter's No man's land
Vladimir nobokov
William Luce
Eric Roth
Tv series
Counterstrike - Mr P
Movies
All the president's men
You can't take it with you
Moon for the misbegotten
plays
Anna Christie
Henry V recorded w/ symphony
Luce - the belle of Amherst
Luce - lucifer's child
Luce - Lillian
Luce - Barrymore
Tennessee Williams summer and smoke
A word or two
Rereading this book, it seems there are only a few of the great actors of our time he hasn't acted with - Kevin Spacy for one. You'd think with Kevin running the Old Vic, they would have crossed paths along the way.
This section also talks about "a word or two". I tweeted about it. Look for mytimeatlast.
Here's todays's list, read and posted on world day of theatre for children day. I'll post a couple of my favourite quotes, too. If I can figure out how..
March 20
Movies
Women in love
The music lovers
Cattle Annie and little britches
Pulp fiction
The fisherking
Needful things
So I married an axe murderer
Butterfly kiss
Malcolm X -mr p
Star Trek 6 - mr p
Wolf mr p
12 monkeys - mr p
Delores Claiborne
Nicholas nickleby mr p
Emma
Mr p movies
Syriana
The new world
Must love dogs
Alexander
Man in the Chair
Inside Man
Beautiful mind
The insider
Producers
Gareth drabinsky
Sonny Grosso
Todd Haimes
Directors
Robin Phillips
David jones
Spike lee
Nicholas Meyer
Mike Nichols
Terrence Gilliam
Taylor hackford
Michael Mann
Doug McGrath
Jonathan Miller
Ron Howard
Oliver stone
Steve gaghan
Lord Richard dicky Attenborough
Michael Schroeder
Actors
Alan scarfe
Liam neeson
Natasha Richardson
Max von sydow
Ed Harris
Denzel Washington
Michelle pfeiffer
Kathy Bates
Jennifer Jason leigh
Douglas Fairbanks jr
Al Pacino
Russell Crowe
Juliet Stevenson
Jim broadbent
Timothy spall
Tom courtenay
Barry humphries
Edward fox
Nathan lane
Anne Hathaway
Writers
Mr Somerset Maugham
Harold Pinter's No man's land
Vladimir nobokov
William Luce
Eric Roth
Tv series
Counterstrike - Mr P
Movies
All the president's men
You can't take it with you
Moon for the misbegotten
plays
Anna Christie
Henry V recorded w/ symphony
Luce - the belle of Amherst
Luce - lucifer's child
Luce - Lillian
Luce - Barrymore
Tennessee Williams summer and smoke
A word or two
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)