Archive for the ‘Uncategorized’ Category
My maternal grandparents homesteaded in Saskatchewan in the very early years of the 20th Century. They ended up settling and raising a family in Broadview which is in the southeast part of the province. My mom and her siblings grew up on a farm near Broadview in that rather bucolic age that we think of as Canada’s agrarian past, Laurier’s vision made reality.
My grandfather prospered and had business dealings as far away as Chicago and Vancouver. From all accounts he was a capitalist of the first order. At the time of his death in the 1950’s, actually a month after I was born, he was speculating in real estate in Vancouver. Had he lived a few years longer I probably would have been born rich. He didn’t, I wasn’t. Too bad, so sad.
Prosperous as he was, in the 30’s, that decade when it didn’t rain or snow on the prariries (according to my mother), my grandfather being a man of conscience, couldn’t sit back and watch his neighbours lose their farms, or worse, starve, without taking action. So he and other like minded men founded the CCF party that is now the NDP. My grandfather, William A. Hunter, also helped start the Saskatchewan Wheat Pool.
When I was growing up, we lived in Alan Blakeny’s constituency. He was one of the great Premiers of any province in the history of Canada. The NDP, and the principles that the party espoused, were taken very seriously in my family.
Throughout my adult life I have been a supporter of the party at least in a philosophical sense. Sometimes, especially in Alberta, one has to be savvy and vote for a candidate who at least has a chance, because in Calgary at least, a candidate for the NDP has the proverbial snowball’s chance in hell. But it doesn’t really matter who else you vote for. Out here, the Conservatives always win.
On Monday evening, I happened to be in Ottawa, staying in a hotel not far from Parliament Hill. I saw on the news that there was a vigil for Jack Layton so I walked over and paid my respects. All the candles and flowers and bottles of Orange Crush and signs made up a beautiful tribute to Mr. Layton.
It was sometime late Monday evening that I saw the letter he wrote, and was deeply touched by his final words:
Love is better than anger.
Hope is better than fear.
Optimism is better than despair.
Tonight, there was a vigil in Tompkins Park, just south of the Mount Royal neighbourhood in Calgary that has to be THE bastion of conservatism in Canada. It was heartening to see a good crowd forming, as unlikely as it was. Maybe the facade is finally starting to crack.
So many writers have used Mr. Layton’s death to promote their own thoughts and ideas and I have no wish to do so in writing this, other than to say that I admire the man, and I believe he has made a tremendous impact on the way we see ourselves as Canadians. He has not answered many questions that linger in his death, but he at least posed them.
I know my grandfather would have been proud.
Jack Layton memorial in Tompkins Park, Calgary, a stone's throw away from one of the most staunchly conservative neighbourhoods in Canada.
Ahhhh, to be a celebrity. The glamorous glorious life. Well, it ain’t always what it’s cracked up to be.
I’ve told this story many a time, but here goes once again. In 1994 I was an unknown playwright, although I at least had one hit under my belt, my play “Some Assembly Required,” which premiered at Alberta Theatre Project’s playRites Festival early in the year. Some may remember the old slogan: “The Hottest Six Weeks in Winter.”
After the run of the play, the theatre made me their Playwright in Residence, a position I held for ten years. All told, I wrote six plays for ATP, 3 of them were done first at the playRites Festival and then brought back for regular season productions. That’s a lot of productions of my work in the Martha Cohen Theatre.
But back in the day, when I was relatively young and an unknown, I was asked to attend a function for something or other on behalf of ATP who had recently become my employer. It was the usual assembly of upper end corporate types in the audience and low end celebrities who ended up on stage: some kind of dog or hound, a mascot at sporting events; a third string, injured offensive lineman from the Stamps; Miss third runner up to the Stampede Princess crown; and a drunken weatherman. And me.
Well, they all got a great intro, but they are all truly famous in Calgary, I guess. When the MC got to me — all I remember about him is that he was very short and was wearing a huge black cowboy hat — with no doubt a huge black pickup truck in the parking lot — he said this:
OK, next up we have a guy named Eugene (You-GEEEEEN) Strickland, says here he’s a playwriter whatever that is (wait for laugh) and he works for an outfit called Alberta Theatre (Theeee-ATE-er) Projects, whatever that is.
Well, you get the idea. I made up my mind right then and then I would change things, people would know how to spell my name (there’s no R, ever, in my last name) and they would know what Alberta Theatre Projects was, was what we do there. Either that or move back to Regina. But 17 years later I’m still here, and I think I made all my points.
So, to this day, when a “celebrity” event comes up, I like to take it. I like to think I can still make a difference and that I still have a message to deliver. Which is, simply stated: “The arts exist in Calgary, we the artist are here to stay. Deal with it.”
Because I took the trouble to go to the Kingsland Farmers Market on Saturday, I ran into some old friends — Ald. Brian Pincott, with whom I worked at ATP a lifetime ago. He was one of the best lighting designers in the country before he gave that up for politics. Ahhhh, but I would have him throw lights on one of my plays, any day.And I met some great new friends as well. Trond Franzen, for example. I know him only because he befriended me on Facebook. But he seems like a great guy. I have no idea what he does, or why he was there, or why I was there.One of these days I’ll find out more about him.
So, what seemed like a corny event turned out to be great way to pass some time on a Saturday afternoon. And the corn! It was like I was tasting corn for the first time.
It’s a cool market. Check it out some time. Macleod Trail and 78th Ave.
TTFN.
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Patrick, seen here in fine footwear and overall fettle, was awarded the Betty Mitchell Award for Outstanding Performance by an Actor in a Drama in Ground Zero/Hit & Myth's "reasons to be pretty." From the 14th Annual Betty Mitchell Awards.
My friend Zenon who is a famous DJ in town got some tickets to the Blues Festival and so on Thursday evening we headed down to the Shaw Millennium Park to catch Blackie and the Rodeo Kings and Ray Manzarek & Roy Rogers. We had no sooner got into the grounds when we were picked up by Maurice Ginzer, the event’s producer, and driven around the grounds in his golf cart. Zenon had done a series of on air promotions for the Festival and was called upon last night to introduce Ray Manzarek. To that end, we got the rock star treatment and before you knew it Maurice had us backstage in the green room and we were drinking beer with the musicians and back stage folks.
In case you didn’t know, Ray Manzarek started the Doors, along with Jim Morrison and played keyboards on all of their albums. His work includes one of my favourites, “Riders on the Storm,” which he and the band played as an encore Thursday evening. After his show, I had the chance to tell him that the Door’s album “Strange Days” was a very important work in terms of my journey as an artist. The song “People are Strange” has long been a personal anthem of mine. Although he’s probably heard it a million times, he was very appreciative and understanding.
After his set, we talked some more about the theatre, Tennessee Williams, the Beat writers with whom he did a show in New York a number of years ago and life in general. We had a lovely time, and I can honestly say that I felt that my life was enriched by a wonderful evening with great friends, old and new.
I’ll be heading back the Festival at various times over the weekend. I looking forward to catching up with my old friend Jack Semple (we actually went to Scott Collegiate in Regina together) who is playing the Twilight Series at the Kerby Centre (a new blues venue in town) late Saturday evening.
Kevin Warren, Michelle Baker-Killen, Ray Manzarek, me and Zenon in the green room.
Tuckered out at the Zoo, here I am sleeping on the shoulder of Igor, a miliary doctor from the Israeli Army.
For the past few years off and on I’ve been working at a place called Alberta Business and Educational Services (ABES) in North East Calgary.
With some of my students: Farhana, Joya. Parinita and Priyanka. It’s not so hard to go to work every day.
They have a program aimed at helping doctors from other cultures integrate into the health industry here. I think it’s a sad and somewhat outrageous situation, we let these intelligent and talented people into Canada because they are doctors, and then we tell them they can’t practice here. I suppose the argument goes, well, some of them are from the third world, we don’t know how good their education was there. Tell that to a former student, Dr. Rau, who was an orthopedic surgeon in India, and who went to Nottingham in England to do post doctorate work in sports medicine. He became the head of the sports medicine clinic there. He then came to Canada, where he could only find a job stacking apples at Safeway for $9.00 an hour. Meanwhile, we have an acute shortage of doctors here. Go figure.
In the past few years, I have taught people from India, Pakistan, Bangladesh, Mauritius, Sri Lanka, Nepal, China, Malaysia, Indonesia, The Philippines, Singapore, Japan, Korea, Belarus, Slovakia, Russia, Mongolia, Kazakstan, Ukraine, Serbia, Turkey, Israel, Afghanistan, Syria, Iraq, Iran, Egypt, The Congo, Congo-Zaire, Guinea. Ivory Coast, Cameroon, Ethiopia, Eritrea, Nigeria, Venezuela, Honduras, Nicaragua, Cuba, Colombia, even Australia — I’m probably forgetting a few but that will give you a sense of the international flavour of my classes.
It’s not ESL per se. It about helping them understand language well enough so they can have the best experience possible in their new country.
Most of them have given up very prestigious and lucrative careers (mansions, maids, the whole nine yards) to come to Canada because they perceive that their children can have a better future here. All I try to do is make them feel welcome and give them the skills to get a foot in the door in the health industry. Most of them will never be doctors here. The current system makes it too hard and too expensive for them to pursue accreditation. But most of them, I believe, will have a good life here. And their children will in fact have opportunities here that they never would have had back home.
So, after a few glorious months of working on my new play, riding the bike paths, hanging out at Caffe Beano, reading Italian mystery novels (Andrea Camilleri’s Inspector Montalbano series) it’s back to work for me this morning. I don’t like the idea of it, clearly I should have been born wealthy, not just rich but WEALTHY, but I like the work and I love the students and it’s not so bad at the end of the month when they pay me.
Hi ho . . . .
51.045000
-114.057222
David Trimble is an old buddy, an actor whose work I admire and an all around great guy. He phoned a few days ago. I hadn’t heard from him in some time. I assumed he was calling so we could get together at his place and do some laundry. He has a washing machine with a steam cycle. I have a bit of a laundry fetish — I even iron, using spray starch and the whole 9 yards. So we have a loose plan for me to bring some shirts over some evening and drink a few beers together while we wash the shirts on the steam cycle.
But it turns out he wasn’t calling about laundry at all. It turns out — totally unknown to me — that David has spent the last four years of his life putting together a film, “There by Grace,” which he has written and acts in (along with Léda Davies, Dave Trimble, Kira Bradley, Dustin MacDougall and Tamera Warden). There is a special showing of it this evening (Wednesday, August 3) at The Uptown Theatre around 7 o’clock. After party at the Auburn.
Last night Dave and I texted a bit about the fear one feels when sharing a new work with the world. It is a scary proposition, one that I’ve never gotten used to. I told him it will be hell, but that the world will keep on turning. I’m not sure how much I calmed his nerves. Oh well, at this point, there’s no way through it but to go through it.
It’s a big moment, not one any of us should take lightly. This is the work of a talented artist, representing four years of his life. We should all try to make the effort to see the work, support the artist, and of course, drink beer at the Auburn after.
I guess the laundry will have to make till all the smoke clears . . .
http://www.therebygracethemovie.com/
I don’t why I have always had such difficulties with printers. Maybe writers and the printers we depend upon always have an uneasy relationship. When my old printer died (it was an HP and owed me nothing) I was actually quite excited to get a new one. Well, the one I got on sale at London Drugs proved to be a nightmare. I said on Facebook I would have been happy to chuck the thing off my balcony. But I took it all back to London Drugs and came away with a Lexmark that now seems to be working just fine, so I guess I survived another round of printer wars.
The young lady who looked after me at London Drugs is someone I’ve noticed for a few years now, mostly because of the fact that she smokes a pipe, which you don’t see too often these days, especially a young woman. Turns out she’s an ACAD grad in design, working at LD to pay the bills while she establishes herself as a designer. So I not only got my printer fixed, but I feel like I made a new friend.
Now, back to the play that I was supposed to be writing. This search for a new printer was a good diversion, but time to get back to work . . .
I have been out of town for the last couple of summers and had no idea how much the little Calgary Fringe has grown. They’ve closed off 9th Ave SE from 12th Street SE to 15th Street (I think) so parking can be a bit hairy. Once you’re into the Fringe compound as it were, it can feel a bit at times like the same old same old, with the same suspects in attendance as at the Lilac Festival and the Salsa Festival. You know, the bubble makers and the Elephant Ears, it all gets a little old in a hurry. Fortunately at the Fringe, there is theatre to see. On Saturday afternoon I went to Venue 1008 to see my friend Stuart Bentley and his fellow actor Mike Johnson perform David Mamet’s The Duck Variations. It’s always good to see an early Mamet play, and the boys did a good job of it for a packed audience. There’s lots of worthwhile productions to see here. Some are on the circuit, on their way to Edmonton next week, some are local one-offs.
A nice little moment after the play today in the mini-beer garden at 1008. A lady asked Stuart if he had also directed the play. Stuart said he hadn’t, and that in fact it had been directed by Richard Michelle-Pentelbury, who had actually won an award for his troubles. She considered this and then asked him, “Did you write the play?” He did not take credit for writing it. He told her David Mamet had written the play, but that didn’t resonate for her at all.
It reminded me of the time when I was playwright in residence at Alberta Theatre Projects. We had just seen Tony Kushner’s Angels in America when an elderly patron, on being told what I did at the theatre, asked me, “Do you write all the plays?” I only took credit for the plays of Stephen Massicotte, Michael O’Brien and myself.
The beauty of the Fringe is the plays are short and the opportunities to drink beer are many. It runs until next Saturday.
You can find out more at http://www.calgaryfringe.ca
Me looking like a writer.
eugene stickland 