undercurrents: under development series

undercurrents theatre festival, in its landmark tenth year of operation, has offered to its audiences the ultimate mid-winter treat: works-in-progress by some of Ottawa’s brightest emerging voices that have matured beyond a Fresh Meat framework but that still understand the extent to which they have room to explore. This year’s under development series featured three mid-journey works: Beth-Anne (created by Monica Bradford-Lea and Nicholas Leno), Honey Dew Me (created by theatre decentred), and Home Sweet…Something (created by Litera Pro).  

These projects have been marketed as works with aspirations beyond the Arts Court Library; in truth, all three will likely make reappearances in Canada’s coming Fringes. In an admirable move on undercurrents’ part, the shows have not been marketed any less than the “mainstage” performances in the much-larger Arts Court Theatre; they’ve been granted equal promotional weight, plus the added bonus of dramaturgical and developmental support from undercurrents mentors. 

 I’ve grouped the under development series together for the simple reason that these projects form an astounding triptych of the Ottawa “emerging artist” mentality: these voices in conjunction with each other speak to an Ottawa that’s starved (but ever-so-slowly recovering) from lack of representation of backgrounds and genres. This cohort of (for the most part, recent uOttawa Theatre graduates) paints a portrait of a generation willing to carry the dramatic torch through the hallowed halls of the well-loved Arts Court; for every moment that might need polishing, there are two more that speak to a dazzling maturity, awareness, and hunger for vibrancy onstage.

Beth-Anne 

What’s working: The Nicholas Leno aesthetic conceit is one visible all over Ottawa; it’s a whimsical kitsch we’ve seen under the umbrellas of A Company of Fools, Fresh Meat, and uOttawa, to name a few. Beth-Anne doesn’t necessarily tackle overwhelming existential concerns (yet), but combines Leno’s sharp-yet-silly direction with an excellent actor (the overwhelmingly-funny Monica Bradford-Lea). Beth-Anne is a no-strings-attached good time, using a limited lexicon and wonderful comic timing to remind us that sometimes, being ourselves is second only to being… a horse. It’s strange, but it works; Bradford-Lea’s embrace of the exuberant is absolutely infectious.

Moving forward: For its somewhat out-there premise, it seems Beth-Anne, horse-girl extraordinaire, has a significant struggle with her own identity. This version of Beth-Anne offers a whisper of female empowerment as our heroine prepares for her date with Jonathan, but I feel that future iterations could poke her potential insecurities a little further. There’s a definite meat within this story; it’s bound to come to the surface with the added luxuries of space (the Arts Court Library has a something of a sightline issue, and is rather cramped) and more time. 

 

Honey Dew Me

What’s working: Honey Dew Me has the situational advantage of crystal-clear ties to Ottawa; this novelty alone entices an audience, and draws alarming attention to the parallels between the treatment of LGBTQ+ individuals in the 1960s and such treatment today. Luke Brown has done an admirable job of bringing this difficult story to life in such a small space; the added touch of omnipresent tabloid headlines in the very fabric of the show’s set is a nice one, and one I’m eager to see expanded in future iterations. Axandre Lemours and Kyle Cameron are a nuanced duo with haunting chemistry; they offer us a love beyond its years, one that would flourish in 2020 but that is doomed to persecution in the 1960s. The use of vocal mask to embody different characters is mostly successful, and clever allusions (be they intentional or not) to other queer plays like Fun Home (in its “flair for the dramatic”) nicely bolster this new work within its genre.

Moving forward: Honey Dew Me poses a lot of big questions surrounding queer representation onstage; I’m curious, for instance, how Cameron’s drag makeup might resonate further if presented in a liminal state. How does this character function when in between identities at home, and how might this make clearer the precarity of queer existence in the twentieth century? As well, Lemours and Cameron each have strong command over their emotional journeys. I’m interested in seeing these journeys made physical as these figures come to terms with being persecuted; the act of reliving trauma is a courageous one, and one whose interpersonal effects might be worth exploring in coming drafts.

 Home Sweet…Something

What’s working: Home Sweet…Something confronts its audience with the reality of being an immigrant in Canada – a reality that often comes with woefully-mispronounced names and systemic prejudices. Ayesha Chubb, Zaakirah Chubb, and Ludmylla Reis have cleverly moulded their immigrant experiences into an escape room, one which ranks players based on their ability to conform to the stereotypes of their heritages. The Chubb sisters (also known as local indie group, New Poetics) offer gorgeous musical interludes, and Reis is a skilled tap dancer. Home Sweet…Something features a chilling vignette wherein the Chubb sisters box each other under the scrutiny of the escape room’s Master; it’s a powerful image, and one that sums up the struggle of Canadian immigration in a melancholy nutshell. 

Moving forward: This show’s escape room premise has heaps of potential for future exploration, which might be realized through the implementation of further tasks for participants to complete in order to prove “worthiness” under the gaze of the room’s Master. As well, Home Sweet…Something operates under a point system that’s achingly similar to the real one behind Canadian immigration (which does, in reality, rank potential immigrants on their education, skills, and “usefulness”); it might be interesting to further-explore this parallel. Transitions between vignettes seem to call for extra attention, but truly, as a work-in-progress, this is negligible; this is a piece that will absolutely swell into something beyond belief in its coming iterations.

 The undercurrents: under development series has presented Ottawa with a host of new work and semi-new voices; in the interest of full disclosure, I have working relationships with most of these artists, and have vested interest in seeing these productions succeed. That said, I know as well just how much further these artists are capable of going, and cannot wait to see remounts of each of these performances in the future.