February 25, 1999 

"Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounced it to you, trippingly on the tongue: but if you mouth it...I had as lief the town crier spoke my lines."

When I first proposed to a highly-sceptical Council that they act in a little skit recreating the first Council meeting of 125 years ago, I coated the pill by telling them that, you know, they won't really have to memorise their lines - they could crib from a cheat sheet on the table in front of them. Little did they know that the short skit would grow into a 45-minute playlet, complete with an elaborate set, a professional stage-manager, and a real star - George Bowser. Did they ever rise to the occasion. Speaking of George, he was told his only contribution to our Victorian Soirée would be to sing a couple of minstrel songs with me and Councillor Marks. Ha!

At that point, my only worry was the Westmount Council Players might come down with a case of stage fright. On the contrary, they performed like professionals, and didn't even blow a line. But half the cast did come down with the flu at one point or another, something that really hampered rehearsals, which were held in City Hall, my basement, Karin Marks' living room, and, finally, Victoria Hall - eight rehearsals in all. Herb Bercovitz, a real trouper, was severely suffering from flu during the actual performance.

When you are out there on stage, you are made keenly aware of the interdependency of actors: one forgotten cue, and the whole fabric of the play can become unravelled. If your fellow actor performs well, so do you - and through this synergy, the quality of the production skyrockets.

How do I know? Eruptions of dramatic activity have occurred sporadically over my lifetime; like spots, they first came out in high school when I played Bassanio in the Merchant of Venice, to be followed by a few plays at university. That, plus playing the psychiatrist in Harvey and Billy in a Lakeshore Players' production of California Suite have been the sum total of my acting experience. And this was the first time I have ever written a play - if you can call it that. It took Alexandre Hausvater to come up with many suggestions to improve the dramatic quality of my script.

The idea came when I read that the first Council meeting was held upstairs in Prospère Sauvage's farmhouse. This rather bizarre arrangement suggest-ed a rich vein of humour to be mined, with its implied contrast of francophone farmers and anglophone merchants. The real mother-lode was the by-law "concerning Decency and Good Morals and Public Nuisances". One couldn't invent its provisions, such as the prohibition of houses of ill fame, cockfighting, dogfighting, or driving faster than at an ordinary trot.

A sense of community, like a play, is a group effort that has to be worked on. Last Friday's evening of acting, dancing, eating, and singing reflected our extended family's sense of history and sense of belonging.

Previous page page

Please Sign Our Guest book

• Menu of Trent's Stories
• January 14, 1999 O CHRISTMAS PALM
  
• November 26 BOURQUE REDUX
  
• November 12 MASS TRANSIT: GLORIA MUNDI?
  
• September 3, 1998 SOUND BEGETS FURY
  
• 2 Oct TAXATION BY MISREPRESENTATION
  
• 12 OCT on $500,000,000 TAX GRAB Tax grab turns into burlesque
  
• 16 OCT A MEETING WITH BOUCHARD