Copyright 2001 by Edward Willett

Globe Theatre's On the Line, "a freefall through new work," held at the end of February, was entertaining for audiences and enlightening for many of the writers whose work was performed.

I should know, because I was one of them.

On the Line, an annual event, features 20 new scripts by Saskatchewan writers, ranging from poetry to monologues to plays. This year's 20 were culled from approximately 40 that were submitted. Of those 20, 10 were chosen to undergo a workshopping.

The workshop process began with a private get-together with one of two dramaturges (Susan Parkin and Marina Endicott), followed by a get-together with all the chosen authors at which a small section of each piece was read and discussed.

Additional meetings with the dramaturge and fellow authors followed, each meeting leading to further rewriting and refining of the scripts. Eventually we had the chance to hear our scripts read by professional actors, one more chance to make changes, and then we were invited to the rehearsals for our pieces.

Because the actors have about 10 days to deal with 20 scripts, they really only get about three hours to work on each one under the direction of Angus Ferguson, artistic director of Dancing Sky Theatre in Meacham.

The rehearsal I saw didn't include lights and music (provided live by someone at the keyboard, just like in silent movie days); the final product, when I saw it with an audience on February 24, seemed amazingly finished for the short amount of time I knew had actually been spent on it.

All 20 of the scripts were very interesting and entertaining, and the actors did a fantastic job of bringing an enormous number of diverse characters to life, from Ken Mitchell's very funny "Captain Coyote" (Moose Jaw's own costumed crime-fighter) to the young man dumped by the police on the outskirts of town in Susan Parkin's "Twinkle Tour" to the mysterious Guide in my own play, "Threads."

There were good audiences every night--in fact, the place was packed on Saturday--and audiences were exposed to a wide range of literary and dramatic approaches. If you didn't like something you saw, you only had to wait ten minutes or so until something else came along. Plus there was beer and cheesecake; what more could you want?

But the real beneficiaries of the program, I think, were the writers, particularly those who may not have written for the stage before.

I've acted in dozens of amateur and professional plays and musicals over the years, so I'm very familiar with the actor's process of turning words on a page into a living, breathing character.

The number of times I've seen my own words brought to life on stage, however, is much smaller--and every time I'm fascinated by it.

It's fascinating because writing is a solitary creative act, most of the time: you sit at a keyboard, or with a pen and paper, and you conjure words out of thin air and set them down. The only images attached to them at that moment are the ones in your own head. You see your characters and hear their voices and, if you're writing for the stage, maybe even see the lighting effects and picture the set.

But the moment your words are passed on to a director and actors, everything changes. Suddenly, there are several different sets of images attached to your words. Each actor pictures the play and his or her character differently from the other actors--and probably from the director--and brings those perceptions to bear on the process of bringing the play to life.

An actor, working from his or her own internal image of his or her character, will say a line in a way that you, as a writer, never thought of--and yet, it works. The way that actor says his or her line influences the way the next line is spoken, and so the play may take a direction and develop undercurrents and depth that the writer never imagined. The words are still his, but the play now also belongs to the director and the actors.

In a way, watching your words performed by actors, and listening to the audience's reaction to those words, is like seeing and hearing the internal process that every reader of your work goes through brought to life. It gives you insight into how what you write is perceived by others. It makes you think harder about your choice of words and the stories you tell.

It’s a valuable exercise all around. I'm glad I was part of it.

Posted September 22, 2004