MIB - Missing in Barrie, not Men in Black
Well,
To introduce everyone to the theme and tone of the following emails over the next eight months, I must explain: having the dubious honour as Designer in Residence at Talk is Free Theatre, I'll regale you with tales unimaginable and bizarre, beautiful and serene; I may bore you with contemplations of a mere detail, or bore you with in-exact descriptions and superficial observations of little substance. All the while attempting to impart the creature of the near-north, a city without centre, a little theatre (unknown or known) and my experiences of said community. Some alcohol will be consumed, most certainly. The rest will reveal itself slowly. Since I'm a poor typist.
Ah, October! The month of beautiful colour, mixed weather to please all, and the start of a contract to which I could not balk (since finding eight months of work in the design field is seldom). Arriving in Barrie to note the already progressing leaves, compared to Niagara, and a slightly noticable temperature change. Of little consequence, since I AM CANADIAN. Speaking of which, the address: 100 Molson Park Drive. The theatre utilizes the vacant space of a most recognizable Canadian institution, The Beer Store. No doubt a high-traffic area in it's day, especially considering it had (still has) a DRIVE THROUGH. How unusual. After all our attempts to curb drinking and driving . . .
I get to the theatre, not knowing where I'll be living yet, since the producer has been left responsible for this, and begin to unpack my design gear. Just enough to get me through the next week or two, not the whole bundle. Some model building equip., limited drafting supplies, sketching materials. I select what has been an empty space until now, and begin to nest.
I decide I'm hungrier than I am inspired to work, and need to empty the car. However, I'm told by Michelle, our production manager with whom I will be staying, we have no fridge. So, my perishables are left behind in the theatre fridge, and off I go to our abode.
I hate secrets more than anything, and if we're not allowed to tell people where we're living, I'm even more compelled to reveal the location. However, you will all have to trust that it is a nice, reasonably clean, convenient apartment/house (though ill equiped, no fridge or stove, but a washer and dryer, which is very convenient). Or you could ask Patrick, who is the only person allowed to know. Needs a bit of a clean, but otherwise is servicable home. Oh, Michelle has a baby, John Paul, about 7 months old right now, who is cute and quiet (not that I would notice during the night since I sleep like the dead), but he's certainly well behaved and Michelle is a very good mother. So the "no fridge" situation has been/was a problem, since baby food and bottles and things like refridgeration occasionally. Week one, therefore, wasted alot of time discussing/arranging a fridge. As of today, we have a second fridge, and have returned the first fridge we borrowed. My back will be better by Sunday, I'm sure. We do have a microwave again. After an event (which was held at our apartment, and no it was not a party which we threw) this past Wednesday, we noticed not only had the microwave been removed, but the dining room table and one chair had gone missing. And someone decided it was easier to throw our bathroom articles all onto Michelle's bed, after unmaking the bed. A confusing, slightly aggravating evening, with us returning to the "apartment" to find the doors to our bedrooms locked - keys which no-one has. Building security had to jimmy the windows to get us in. I'm glad they did it.
And I'm designing and building a show. Really I am, even though I haven't cut a single piece of lumber, and made only the slightest of dents into the props and costumes list. I know, I'm already behind. Oh, and the show is The Glass Menagerie. Not a show most designers choose to sneeze out. And trying to make the apartment into a circular curio cabinet is challenging enough.
Well, there is more, but I think I should let my eyes rest. Oh, and the new fridge needs to be properly cleaned. Talk to you soon,
Michael
To introduce everyone to the theme and tone of the following emails over the next eight months, I must explain: having the dubious honour as Designer in Residence at Talk is Free Theatre, I'll regale you with tales unimaginable and bizarre, beautiful and serene; I may bore you with contemplations of a mere detail, or bore you with in-exact descriptions and superficial observations of little substance. All the while attempting to impart the creature of the near-north, a city without centre, a little theatre (unknown or known) and my experiences of said community. Some alcohol will be consumed, most certainly. The rest will reveal itself slowly. Since I'm a poor typist.
Ah, October! The month of beautiful colour, mixed weather to please all, and the start of a contract to which I could not balk (since finding eight months of work in the design field is seldom). Arriving in Barrie to note the already progressing leaves, compared to Niagara, and a slightly noticable temperature change. Of little consequence, since I AM CANADIAN. Speaking of which, the address: 100 Molson Park Drive. The theatre utilizes the vacant space of a most recognizable Canadian institution, The Beer Store. No doubt a high-traffic area in it's day, especially considering it had (still has) a DRIVE THROUGH. How unusual. After all our attempts to curb drinking and driving . . .
I get to the theatre, not knowing where I'll be living yet, since the producer has been left responsible for this, and begin to unpack my design gear. Just enough to get me through the next week or two, not the whole bundle. Some model building equip., limited drafting supplies, sketching materials. I select what has been an empty space until now, and begin to nest.
I decide I'm hungrier than I am inspired to work, and need to empty the car. However, I'm told by Michelle, our production manager with whom I will be staying, we have no fridge. So, my perishables are left behind in the theatre fridge, and off I go to our abode.
I hate secrets more than anything, and if we're not allowed to tell people where we're living, I'm even more compelled to reveal the location. However, you will all have to trust that it is a nice, reasonably clean, convenient apartment/house (though ill equiped, no fridge or stove, but a washer and dryer, which is very convenient). Or you could ask Patrick, who is the only person allowed to know. Needs a bit of a clean, but otherwise is servicable home. Oh, Michelle has a baby, John Paul, about 7 months old right now, who is cute and quiet (not that I would notice during the night since I sleep like the dead), but he's certainly well behaved and Michelle is a very good mother. So the "no fridge" situation has been/was a problem, since baby food and bottles and things like refridgeration occasionally. Week one, therefore, wasted alot of time discussing/arranging a fridge. As of today, we have a second fridge, and have returned the first fridge we borrowed. My back will be better by Sunday, I'm sure. We do have a microwave again. After an event (which was held at our apartment, and no it was not a party which we threw) this past Wednesday, we noticed not only had the microwave been removed, but the dining room table and one chair had gone missing. And someone decided it was easier to throw our bathroom articles all onto Michelle's bed, after unmaking the bed. A confusing, slightly aggravating evening, with us returning to the "apartment" to find the doors to our bedrooms locked - keys which no-one has. Building security had to jimmy the windows to get us in. I'm glad they did it.
And I'm designing and building a show. Really I am, even though I haven't cut a single piece of lumber, and made only the slightest of dents into the props and costumes list. I know, I'm already behind. Oh, and the show is The Glass Menagerie. Not a show most designers choose to sneeze out. And trying to make the apartment into a circular curio cabinet is challenging enough.
Well, there is more, but I think I should let my eyes rest. Oh, and the new fridge needs to be properly cleaned. Talk to you soon,
Michael
posted by Michael at 9:06 p.m.
0 comments
