In the Black Box Theatre at St. Thomas University, the audience sits bathed in a glow of red light. The theatre is hot. Very hot. There are no empty seats.
A voice welcomes us to Sole Collective’s The Red Room.
If we are locked in here with you, then you are locked in here with us.
Photography is allowed.
You can make all the noise you want.
This is not a dance recital. It is a statement.
The Red Room began as a dream three years ago. Tonight, it comes alive in a celebration of femininity.
I. REIGN II. RESILIENCE III. RELEASE IIII. RECLAMATION
Julia Whalley is the creative force behind Sole Collective.
The Fredericton-born dancer and choreographer trained in Toronto for five years before returning home to found Sole Collective in 2022. Today, the dance and movement studio is home to three performance companies — Muse, Finesse, and Solebody.
Twenty-seven dancers.
Heels.
Precision.
Sweat.
The energy does not relent.
The audience screams.
Against the back wall, projected text and video serve as interludes in this multimedia exploration of strength, sensuality, and defiance.
I.REIGN
TO HOLD DOMINANCE, PRESENCE, AND AUTHORITY TO COMMAND A SPACE WITHOUT ASKING PERMISSION TO KNOW YOUR POWER WITHOUT NEEDING TO PROVE IT
Solos. Trios. Large groups. How are they doing this in heels?
The overwhelming beats and rhythm drive the dancers from the floor to their feet. The bass rattles the theatre. The dancers move on instinct with precision. Confident, controlled impulse. Almost eight months of work, you see it in every step.
The show doesn’t just move, it breathes.
Suddenly, dancers appear behind and above the audience on a raised platform.
The Red Room comes alive in bursts of thought and desire.
Desire to be imperfect. loved. connected. to be.
IIII. RECLAMATION
REESTABLISHING OWNERSHIP, AGENCY, CONNECTION WITH ONE’S BODY TO TAKE BACK WHAT WAS ALREADY YOURS TO REMEMBER A WOMAN’S BODY WAS NEVER THE ENEMY
The chorus of screams: a wave of comments flooding social media.
Thumbs up. Hearts.
Crowns.
Sole Collective’s The Red Room is electric.
Sole Collective’s The Red Room ran May 15–16 at the Black Box Theatre (STU).
Feature film newcomer Caroline Bell stars as Olive in Strike Pictures’ Do I Know You From Somewhere? Photo courtesy of Vortex Media.
Spoiler: There is no title drop in Strike Pictures’ Do I Know You From Somewhere? Yes, gasp in shock. I waited for it, too. Sometimes, though, it is the words unspoken that stay with us the longest.
Before jumping into the film, I’d like to discuss The Twilight Zone episode “The After Hours,” specifically its 1985 remake. Marsha Cole, played by Terry Farrell, arrives at the mall just as it’s closing. The young woman shares with a store employee that the past month has been wonderful for her: she managed to land an apartment despite having no money, and her landlord even helped her get a job. To thank her landlord, she’s buying a doll for the landlord’s child.
In classic Twilight Zone fashion, however, Marsha’s life is not what it seems — she’s, in fact, a mannequin.
The illusion of Marsha’s happy life shatters when the store employee presses her for details about her past. Marsha scoffs at the idea that she wouldn’t know where she grew up, yet she can’t remember anything beyond the last month. She is pursued by a mannequin through the mall, with others calling her name, as if beckoning her home. Her dream life dissolves into a bittersweet memory when Marsha turns back into a mannequin, her limbs hardening into plastic while she struggles to accept the truth.
Which brings us to Do I Know You From Somewhere?, a surrealist drama from director Arianna Martinez and co-writer Gordon Mihan, which premiered at the 2024 Toronto International Film Festival.
No, Olive (Caroline Bell) and Benny (Ian Ottis Goff) are not mannequins. Olive is a woman frantically searching the house for a misplaced anniversary gift. On a phone call with her sister Stella (Gillian Salmon), Olive struggles to remember what exactly the gift is — just like Marsha struggles to remember her life beyond a month ago. Meanwhile, in his workshop, Benny finds a plush rabbit, one that seems to have appeared out of nowhere.
Nowhere — that is where Olive and Benny find themselves: alone and disoriented by lapses in memory. In a series of flashbacks, the film drifts back to the wedding reception where they first met. Benny is working his first shift as a banquet server; Olive is drunk, sad, and alone. Their tethers to reality begin to fray when a mysterious woman named Ada (Mallory Amirault) starts replacing Benny in Olive’s memories. Outside, where leaves once fell and the water once ran, there is only a void.
There is an air of something sinister afoot, much like the foreboding mall from “The Afterhours.” Who is this phantom woman? Are Olive and Benny dead? Is Ada responsible for plunging the couple in metaphysical darkness?
No.
Olive is real. Benny is not. That’s the twist, simplified. Everyone is real. Some are more real than others. In truth, Olive and Ada are in a committed relationship. Benny is just a face in the crowd. On the night of the wedding reception, Olive never spoke with Benny. It was Ada who briefly humored Olive’s spiel on breakups before whisking her away. The Benny we know exists only as a product of desire and indecision. But what if Olive had spoken with Benny and built a life with him? What would that life have looked like, had she made that choice instead?
Benny is like a department store mannequin: a fantasy, a compelling narrative manufactured by desire.
Most of the film exists in this dream space, where past and present clash, forming two alternating timelines. It is a breakup story, though not of any one breakup. Olive spills her heart to Benny at the wedding reception, telling him:
“Have you ever been through a breakup before, Benny? They’re all a little different, but at the end of the day, they’re basically the same. One moment, someone is in your life—the most important person you’ve ever met. And then, the next moment, poof—they’re gone.”
“The relationship—okay, the glue that holds people together—it’s scrubbed away. It’s not just like something’s been erased. It’s like the life you lived together was just a dream. So, you start to forget the little details. It becomes this blanket memory. Even that’s a little fuzzy. It just gets fuzzier and fuzzier until it’s less of a blanket and more of a fuzzy, fuzzy thing that sits quietly in the back of your mind.”
Benny is an amalgamation of breakups past.
Near the end of the film, as the Ada timeline fully manifests, Olive is seen crying alone in what was her and Benny’s home. In this timeline, she lives with Ada and their daughter, Cece. The house is warmly decorated for Cece’s birthday. Olive sobs almost uncontrollably as her psychic connection to Benny—or at least the concept of him—is severed. The Ada timeline takes over, and Olive settles, happily, into the world around her.
There are three milestones celebrated over the course of the film: first, Olive and Benny’s anniversary; second, a wedding; and lastly, Cece’s birthday. These snapshots reflect Olive’s mind in some way.
Olive and Benny’s relationship is fiction, informed by previous relationships. The anniversary is one of those “fuzzy things” that sits in the back of Olive’s mind. One moment, she can’t wait to give Benny her present; the next, the details of that gift and everything it represents have been forgotten. The wedding overwhelms Olive, her heart still raw from a recent breakup. She drinks to numb herself, trying not to dwell on the life that was and could have been. The details are too fresh. In much the same way, Cece’s birthday conjures an immense sadness in Olive. Again, it is this mourning for what could have been — the topic of children a point of tension between Olive and Benny.
Like Marsha in “The After Hours,” Olive lives a dreamlike existence, caught between memory and reality. A lingering desire within her splinters her mind, taking shape in Benny, a chorus of possibility and longing. The drama of the film emerges as much from words spoken as from moments never shared. There is no grand sinister plot, nor any malevolent force operating in the shadows; it is regret that sustains the dream space in which Olive finds herself, and acceptance that ultimately pulls her toward a new life.
Arianna Martinez’s debut feature film, Do I Know You From Somewhere?, evokes the spirit of classic anthology science fiction. Take that as you will. Caroline Bell steps comfortably into her feature film debut. She capably carries the weight of the film’s kaleidoscopic storytelling, while Ian Ottis Goff brings a strong “everyman” quality to help anchor the heightened, surreal elements. Beneath its ambitious scale, Do I Know You From Somewhere? resonates as a poignant, dreamlike journey through memory and desire.
Six years ago, Joyful Magpies interviewed Toronto-based comedian Olivia Stadler, who was just two years into her stand-up career and enrolled in UCLA’s Film and Screenwriting program. Stadler spoke about falling in love with television, shooting for the stars, and the trend of Canadian talent relocating to advance their careers.
“I’m always daydreaming about how far I can get.”
Stadler now calls New York City home, with writing credits on Crave’s award-winning original series Letterkenny and Shoresy. In July, she took the stage as part of Just for Laughs’ New Faces of Comedy Showcase and will appear later this year on CBC’s The New Wave of Standup.
Earlier this month, Stadler released her debut comedy album, Chapstick.
Released through Comedy Records, Chapstick plays like Stadler’s open diary on turning thirty, coffee dates, and trying to make it with a psychology degree.
“Get your Smart Serve, bitch, you’re going to need it.”
Stadler stops twice to apply her chapstick, hence the album’s title. The interludes almost act as tiny windows for her brain to catch up with itself. Therapy? She might go back if the e-transfer doesn’t go to “paying the rent” for her frozen eggs. Her sharp, sometimes twisted observations are delivered in a casual tone punctuated by a low rasp. Think of Stadler as your coworker bestie, dropping “Fuck this job lol” in the group chat at nine in the morning.
“How are you? Isn’t that so funny we still ask each other that question, after everything we’ve been through?”
In 2019, Toronto-based comedian Jackie Pirico released her debut album, Dream Phone. I listened to it on a drive to Saint John, and the first word that came to mind was sparky — a real-life cartoon character. Pirico winds up and lets loose like Taz from Looney Tunes.
Three years later, after a stretch of comedians performing over Zoom, Pirico returned with her sophomore album, Splash Pad. The release made a splash, earning her a nomination for Comedy Album of the Year at the 2023 Juno Awards. Calling it a splash is an understatement. Splash Pad is a cannonball of delightfully oddball energy. Yes, I’m going all in on the wordplay. The Juno-nominated “salmonella survivor” dives headfirst into energy-efficiency envy, hypochondria, and Meow Mix with feral glee. Pirico might be a “runt for life,” but she’s a larger-than-life presence in Canadian comedy.
Today, Pirico can be heard every weekday morning on Toronto’s Indie88, where she co-hosts The Morning Show with Carlin Burton and Brent Albrecht.
Falling Iguana Theatre’s founders Ian Ottis Goff (left) and Alexa Higgins (right) with Jean-Michel Cliche. 81 Minutes. Photo Credit: Matt Carter.
Two years ago, as part of the National Arts Centre’s Canada Performs initiative, Alexa Higgins and Ian Ottis Goff of Falling Iguana Theatre staged a digital production of their company’s debut work, DIANA. Later that same year, Higgins and Goff would broadcast DIANA again from their Toronto apartment.
In 2021, Falling Iguana headlined the NotaBle Acts Theatre Festival with their second original production, 81 Minutes. The summer production marked the company’s return to in-person performance. Written and directed by Higgins and Goff, 81 Minutes is a speculative depiction of the 1990 heist that saw thirteen works (estimated worth: $500 million) lifted from the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum in Boston, Massachusetts.
Last month, Higgins and Goff announced the Toronto-based company, in collaboration with NotaBle Acts and Live Bait Theatre, would be touring 81 Minutes in late April. Falling Iguana’s East Coast tour will see the original cast perform in Fredericton and Sackville, and then Dartmouth, Nova Scotia.
Below is my interview with the duo behind Falling Iguana. We talk about the company, DIANA, and remounting 81 Minutes.
Falling Iguana is a physical theatre company. What is physical theatre, and how does it manifest in your work?
Alexa Higgins: People often get nervous when we say physical theatre because there’s an image that it’s mime slash dance. There are elements of that, but we consider physical theatre to be present in all types of theatre. Physical theatre explores bodily movement in ways that enhance the story. We use movement to reveal what a character is really thinking versus what they say. We also use movement to build the world. In both of our plays, we jump around to different cities and timelines. We think using broader movement helps the audience go on that journey with us. It makes for great comedy as well! Both plays have a lot of comedy, and we think it comes through because of that physicality.
Falling Iguana has presented DIANA four times, split evenly between the stage and online. Could you describe the experience of taking a stage production and translating it for a digital space, all while working within your living room?
Higgins: It was a challenge, as you can imagine, but that’s where the physicality comes in handy. You can expand and collapse your movement to fit whatever space you are in. When we found out we were going to be performing from our living room, we decided to reshape the piece from the perspective of a film. We thought it would be fun if the camera was an additional character in our story. We decided what we wanted to share and not share with the camera. We also played with scale and forced perspective. At one point, I used the wall as though it was the ground.
Do you have a background in film and operating a camera, or was that new for you?
Higgins: We have experience in front of the camera.
Ian Ottis Goff: I have worked on films as an actor and a member of crew. As theatre creators, you are always thinking about what the audience sees. We thought a lot about what does it look like from this angle? If we move the camera like this, what does it feel like? You think a lot about how it’s going to be perceived.
Did the experience lead to any discoveries?
Goff: The amount of eyeballs we got on it. A theatre is only so big, meaning you can only fit so many people inside. After the Canada Performs stream, we checked the numbers and saw that nearly 1,000 people had watched it. If we did DIANA in a 1,000 seat theatre, that would be an incredible performance.
Higgins: For me, how we built our virtual version of DIANA. We are proud of it. We are going to use that non-linear thinking back in the rehearsal hall. It has informed 81 Minutes, and it will inform our future productions.
The original cast of 81 Minutes is coming back for the tour.
Higgins: Yes, all five performers are returning.
You are in different cities right now. What is the rehearsal process like?
Goff: We are lucky because 81 Minutes premiered last summer, so it wasn’t too long ago. This kind of physical work sits in your body. We have a week of rehearsals before our first show in Fredericton. If you show up with the lines learned, the movement will come back quickly.
Higgins: We also have archival video from our summer show. We sent that out to the actors. Everybody has been making sure they know their individual track. Once in the rehearsal hall, we’ll be able to take more care with each scene, so everyone knows where they are going.
Tell me about the play. It’s based on a real heist?
Goff: On March 18th, 1990, in the early hours of St. Patrick’s Day in Boston, Massachusetts, two men disguised as police officers went to the side door of the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum. The “officers” knocked on the door, and one of the museum guards came down. The police officers were investigating a disturbance in the area and needed to come in to make sure everything was alright. The guards let them in. The thieves handcuffed the guards and chained them to a boiler in the basement. For the next 81 minutes, the thieves perpetuated the largest unsolved art heist. Actually, I just read recently that it is the largest theft of property in history. They did it, and they were gone. The pieces are still missing.
What is it about this story that attracted you to it?
Higgins: I had never seen an art heist explored on stage before. That seemed like a fun slew of characters we could create from this real story. In our extensive research, we learned that most art heists take 3-5 minutes. This one took 81 minutes. Were the thieves confident in what they were doing? Or, were they unsure? There are a lot of unknowns.
Also, we started to think—81 minutes straight is a perfect length of time for a play. We started thinking about counting down our show, from 81 minutes to zero, with a giant clock on stage. When the clock hits zero, it’s blackout. No matter if we are done the show or not. It adds a layer of tension for us and the audience. We hope to emulate the feeling from that night.
When did the clock enter the creation process? It seems like it arrived early on.
Goff: We traveled to New Brunswick for a writer’s retreat. We sat by the lake, writing scene after scene. The idea came into our head: what if we had a clock sitting on stage counting down from 81 minutes? Our original idea was it would be a classic clock face, and then it turned into a digital clock which is a lot of fun. A digital clock sheds its own light, an eerie red glow.
Higgins: During that writing workshop, we realized we also wanted to include a second timeline in the show. We follow the thieves and the guards the night of the robbery, and then we jump back in time to Isabella Stewart Gardner’s life in the late 1800s. She was one of the only female art collectors around at that time. She’s an ethically complicated character when it comes to her opinion on art and who art belongs to. We jump back and forth between her timeline and the heist to explore what these art pieces mean and where they came from.
Where did you get the clock?
Goff: We bought the clock online. Originally, we were thinking the clock was going to be a gigantic thing, like five feet by six feet. It’s been pared down a little bit.
You have to travel with it.
Higgins: Exactly.
How did the tour come together?
Goff: One thing we think a lot about is how a lot of times you’ll do a play once, and then it’s put on the shelf. It’s done and gone. We don’t like that. As our history shows, we like to keep working on a play and putting it in front of new audiences. As 81 Minutes was happening, we were looking for another place to put it.
Higgins: Ron Kelly Spurles, the artistic director of Live Bait Theatre, saw our production in the summer, and he invited us to perform in Sackville. Okay, if we are going back to New Brunswick, we better go back for more than one show. What can we realistically build? Fredericton is a great place to start because we already have a base there. We started talking with community members there about building our show. NotaBle Acts is presenting us in both Fredericton and Sackville. The last stop in the tour, which took a little more time to figure out, is Alderney Landing in Dartmouth, Nova Scotia. We are very excited. They have a fantastic space. It will be the fourth province Falling Iguana has performed in.
What does it mean for you to be able to perform in-person again?
Higgins: When we did our live show this past summer, it was very moving. There’s nothing like having a live audience response. We are looking forward to sharing this weird and wild and partially true story with other real humans in the room and counting down the clock together.
Falling Iguana’s touring production of 81 Minutes arrives in Fredericton on Friday, April 22. 7:30 p.m. at UNB’s Memorial Hall. Tickets can be purchased online or at the door.
Sackville: Saturday, April 23 at the Sackville Legion. 7:30 p.m. Tickets can be purchased online.
Dartmouth: Sunday, April 24 at Alderney Landing. 7:30 p.m. Tickets can be purchased online or at the door.
For more information about Falling Iguana, visit their website.
Jennifer McAuliffe’s Border Crossing is available on digital platforms.
Released last year, Border Crossing is Jennifer McAuliffe’s debut comedy album. The Toronto native recorded the album in 2018 at Third Coast Comedy Club in Nashville, Tennessee. McAuliffe is a surprise, for sure. She may seem chill and “adorable,” but when McAuliffe hits the gas, she turns into the Honeycomb Monster—“I want a baby so bad!”
Like the Honeycomb Monster, McAuliffe is cartoonishly bananas. It must be the stress or the rage. Both? Whatever it is, you can see it in her eyes from a mile away. “Eyes are the windows to the soul, and I need Venetian blinds.” The upside is that she doesn’t need a dentist to remove her wisdom teeth. “I can grind them down!”
Dating is hard for McAuliffe, who describes herself as the stairs in a horror movie. “Don’t go down there! You’re going to get so hurt!” She might be a lot of work, but she’s a good girlfriend! She’s a good ex-girlfriend? “Can you call me an Uber? I’ve been drinking.”
The best line from the album is “my personality swims with a t-shirt.” Print that on a t-shirt! Or a tote bag! There are a few other lines I could see doing well on merchandise.
While listening to Border Crossing, I couldn’t help but think about Laurie Elliott’s set on Comedy Now! If you watched it, you remember Elliott’s goofy physicality and wild laugh that punctuates her televised appearance. McAuliffe brought me right back there. She’s a weirdo, and she’s not afraid to show it! Her feral energy is hilarious. You get the feeling that if she ever wrote a self-help book, every page would be whatever internal screaming looks like in print.
Buckle up! Jennifer McAuliffe’s Border Crossing is a wild ride.
Jennifer McAuliffe’s Border Crossing is available on Apple Music and Spotify.
Theatre New Brunswick’s Miss Bennet: Christmas at Pemberley runs December 9 – 11 at the Fredericton Playhouse. Left to right: Jillian Hanson (Mary Bennet) and Tallas Munro (Arthur de Bourgh). Photo credit: Andre Reinders.
I am very unfamiliar with the works of Jane Austen. There, I said it. I know, I know. How have I not read Emma or Persuasion—or Pride and Prejudice? So, when Theatre New Brunswick began advertising its holiday production, Miss Bennet: Christmas at Pemberley, I didn’t exactly jump to my calendar. It’s not for me, I thought.
Well.
I was wrong.
After a two-year absence, TNB returns to the Fredericton Playhouse. (Yeah, it’s been awhile). Ryan G. Hinds is back as well, this time in the director’s chair. You might remember him from It’s A Wonderful Life: A Radio Play, TNB’s last mainstage production before theatres closed due to the pandemic.
Written by Lauren Gunderson and Margot Melcon, Miss Bennet: Christmas at Pemberley is a “sequel” to Austen’s Pride and Prejudice where the focus is—finally—on Mary Bennet (Jillian Hanson). Mary is the Bennet family’s awkward middle child. She disappears in a room, preferring to study maps and scientific theories than engage in frivolous conversation. Of course, since it is the holidays, Mary will do her best to socialize with her sisters and their husbands, Mr. Darcy (Kenzie Delo) and Mr. Bingley (Santiago Guzmán), during her stay at Pemberley.
Mary’s world is turned upside down when Mr. Darcy’s cousin, Arthur de Bourgh (Tallas Munro), arrives at the country estate. Well, not right away. Here’s the thing: you can be absolutely brilliant and not see what’s in front of you. It’s like that Gary Larson cartoon where the kid genius pushes on a door that says pull.
Arthur and Mary are two peas in a pod. Among their similarities: Arthur is awkward. He enjoys the company of books, finding people too complex. If only Arthur and Mary could see the obvious! The sparks are there, but neither knows how to express their feelings. Elizabeth Darcy (Lara Lewis) and Jane Bingley (Sharisse LeBrun) try intervening to help Mary while Lydia Wickham (Caroline Coon), the youngest of the Bennet sisters, pursues Arthur for herself. However, Mary and Lydia have a surprise/terror waiting in the wings, and her name is Anne de Bourgh (Melissa MacKenzie).
The Pride and Prejudice connection might scare some people away. ‘Literary classic’ is a term that evokes required reading in high school English. It’s homework. Miss Bennet isn’t that. It’s fun. It’s sharp. It feels contemporary while splashing around in the time period.
For anyone curious, I read up on Pride and Prejudice—like a student cramming for an exam—before coming to see the play. It’s not necessary to do so, but I think it’s helped me sink into the play a little more.
The reason I say it’s not necessary to read the source material: Miss Bennet is not a thesis paper where the authors argue why Mary Bennet deserved better. The story presented here is universal. You root for Mary because she is the underdog, the social misfit who hasn’t yet found her people, or in this case—her person. Mary is like Elizabeth’s Christmas tree, a German tradition now installed in Pemberley. Everyone has their opinion on it, but in the end, the tree does what the tree does—it stands tall. So, you could say the play is a defense of Mary Bennet. However, I think it’s a celebration of the character and all the Mary Bennets of the world.
TNB’s production is like the house in your neighbourhood decked out with Christmas lights. It’s lit. The inspiration from Netflix’s Bridgerton is obvious. The Weeknd’s ‘Blinding Lights’ can be heard, along with other popular songs like Avril Lavigne’s ‘Complicated’ and ‘Seven Nation Army’ by The White Stripes. The musical arrangements complement the setting (Composer, Sound Designer: Jodee Richardson).
Hinds’ vision for a contemporary presentation is what you want after two years sitting at home, flipping through Netflix. You want to feel. You want to be entertained. You want to share an experience with strangers. The production achieves all that. It just feels so fresh and alive. Kudos to Hinds for approaching the play with a clear direction in mind.
Pemberley looks exquisite thanks to set designer Andrea Evans. Lighting designer Leigh Ann Vardy paints the estate in warm festive colours that inspire romance. The outfits are spectacular. Sherry Kinnear has really outdone herself.
Hanson is the kind of actress you want as your anchor. Around her are actors playing large personalities (LeBrun plays a buoyant and very pregnant Jane). Hanson pulls your focus. You want to listen to every word she sees, and Mary Bennet has a lot to say. Her acerbic delivery makes for great comedic moments.
Speaking about Mary, the character says something that couldn’t apply more to Coon in the role of Lydia—”younger sisters are squeaky.” The actress brings ‘pest scurrying from room to room’ energy to her character. She’s an airheaded menace. Although, she has her reasons for acting out in such a way. Coon is a delight in the role.
Munro is endearing as the nerdy and newly minted Lord Arthur de Bourgh. Hanson and Munro are like wine and cheese, a solid pairing.
TNB’s Miss Bennet: Christmas at Pemberley is a festive treat.
Theatre New Brunswick’s Miss Bennet: Christmas at Pemberley runs December 9 – 11 at the Fredericton Playhouse. The production has a final performance on December 12th at the Imperial Theatre.
Clare Belford’s The Entire Cabbage. Recorded live in Charlottetown, PEI, at Trailside Music Hall (April 2021). Released by Comedy Records.
“We are so lucky to do stuff like this,” Clare Belford says to a sold-out crowd in Charlottetown. “I was in Toronto for the first wave — of the pandemic, in case you were wondering.” The comedian talks about quarantine making people horny, herself included. A few moments later, that’s it for pandemic talk in Belford’s debut comedy album, The Entire Cabbage.
If you follow the blog, you might recognize Belford’s name from my interview with Dena Jackson. In that interview, Jackson spoke about her comedy tour Road Broads, postponed due to the pandemic. The tour would have seen Jackson and Belford perform across Western Canada.
A year later, Belford is back on stage and no longer a resident of Toronto. The comedian calls Prince Edward Island home now. “I moved to Toronto six years ago from Alberta to pursue my stand-up comedy dreams — which is why you all know who I am.” That’s right, Maritime readers, there’s a chance you could see Belford perform live in your town.
Which I think is awesome because Clare Belford is some fuckin’ funny, man.
The Entire Cabbage serves up the mundane as seen through the eyes of a walking, talking, “skatepark” who worries a lot about divorce, despite not being married.
I could listen to Belford talk all day about riding the bus in Toronto. So, she finds puke on the bus, and now there’s a dilemma. Does she tell the bus driver? “He’s going to be like — yeah, lady, there’s puke back there. This is the bus.” Her delivery is so good. It’s like we are all standing outside in a circle wearing flannel, and Belford is smoking, telling this story about public transit. Everyone’s laughing. A car passes by, and we wave at them. We don’t know who they are. It’s just polite to wave.
And the whole thing about someone sharing her name? “Everyone started calling her Little Clare. So, I’m Big Clare? Don’t love that.” Hilarious.
Now, there are a few weaker points in the album. I listened to the album four times — twice during a heat wave, then twice more when my brain wasn’t melting from the heat. I can tell you that I stopped listening intently during the same parts. I can also tell you that the same laugh-out-loud parts made me laugh out loud again. “When I’m really trying my best to flirt, I sound a lot like an old stubborn horse. Pfft. You’re so funny. Pfft.”
I think you should listen to The Entire Cabbage. Some parts may not hit, but the parts that do? Deliciously funny. Belford is very cool and super chill, “I do de-Clare.” Her writing is clever, with wordplay and callbacks, and sometimes strange. It’s fun when she gets animated and puts on a voice. You can visualize it in your head. Her delivery is so smooth. I think watching Belford perform live would be awesome, which is why the Maritimes are lucky to have her. If she comes to your area, buy a ticket. I’ll see you there.
Christina Martin is an award-winning singer-songwriter based in Port Howe, Nova Scotia. Photo credit: Sarah Jamer.
Two years ago, Christina Martin, accompanied by her husband, Dale Murray, performed live in Fredericton as part of her Wonderful Lie tour. It feels so long ago and far away, like a dream. If it were not for the signed album in my car, I would not believe that I was there that night in November.
My signed copy of Wonderful Lie is like an artifact: a link to another time. There was an informal line-up to talk with Christina during the break. The audience talked amongst themselves in the meantime. Some refreshed their drinks, while others stepped outside for a smoke. The venue saw new faces come inside for the performance, with jackets over what seats remained. The sound of chatter and laughter grew louder and louder. And then, all attention returned to Christina and Dale. Oh, to be in a crowd again.
I struggle to keep track of time, and yet I have never been so keenly aware of time. Almost every conversation I’m in has someone say, “Well, you know, back when things were normal.” And so, I have made a collage, like you used to make from old magazines, to tell this story of an artist trying to keep the music and her mission alive after the world stops turning. While you reflect on the continued absence of live performance, I hope you also feel inspired to support local talent in whatever way is possible for you right now.
Christina Martin: So, a little bit of an update. Things seem to be progressing with the coronavirus where we are. We had one show cancelled, just one, in Germany. Of course, this means a loss of revenue. Our priority is that everyone is safe, so you’ve got to suck it up. It’s just money, but it’s still depressing. There might be more cancellations. It’s a day by day thing. We’re lucky that nothing else has been cancelled yet, but I did receive a concerning email that there could be more shows cancelling.
Hopefully, y’all are safe and sound. I’ve noticed that people at our shows are not shaking hands anymore. Sick people are staying home. If somebody is a close talker, I’ve been getting used to putting my hand out and showing people where they need to stand. It’s not the time to be close talking. It goes against our natural tendencies, but these are times where you don’t want to get infected or spread anything
It’s a little stressful as this tour was a big financial investment. We were hoping to pay down a lot of debt because we had a lot of shows booked. We are hoping no more shows are cancelled. Everything is on until we announce otherwise.
All these wonderful people on stage tonight. Thank you all for your talent, your time, and your friendship, assuming we are friends.
These next two songs are really about us making friends with the darkness, the creative droughts, and the financial droughts. And just fucking persevering and persisting. Because when you do that in this business, you get to have wonderful nights like tonight with all of you. Thank you so much, let’s have some fun.
March 12, 2020 Facebook Live
Things have been progressing pretty fast here and around the world. Three days ago, we did not expect that we would be cancelling shows or any part of our tour. That changed quite quickly.
We are right now sitting in a very long queue trying to drive back to Germany from France. I have never seen this before. Usually, it’s free to drive between countries in Europe. Germany is taking precautions and stopping everybody. I hope that we can get through.
We just made the decision. I think we’re going to have to cancel the rest of this tour, including the Poland dates. I have to email everybody. I still haven’t done that yet. You’re finding out before anyone else. I think everyone is expecting that. The word is more and more things are shutting down to keep people safe. We want to support that.
We are safe, and we do feel healthy. We are just bummed out because of this decision to cancel the rest of our European tour dates. We are still planning on doing the UK tour. We’ll just have to make arrangements to fly from Canada to the UK if everything is clear at that point. It sucks, but it’s the way it is right now for a lot of people. We have a lot of friends who had to cancel their tours here. We heard that the JUNO Awards back home are cancelled.
I apologize for venues who are finding out from me on Facebook Live.
Alright, see you guys.
Excerpt fromChristina Martin Talks New Album, Life on the Road, and Taking Care of Business October 28, 2019/ Joyful Magpies
It is a sleepy morning for [Christina Martin], home after touring Newfoundland. Martin and her husband/guitarist Dale Murray are enjoying two days of rest before hitting the road again in the morning. Their Canadian tour will take them as far as British Colombia.
Last month, Martin released Wonderful Lie, the award-winning musician’s seventh album. As part of the Wonderful Lie Tour, the singer-songwriter will perform in Fredericton at The Muse Cafe, November 22. The venue is not far from where Martin grew up in the capital city.
Live at the Marquee Ballroom: Impossible to Hold Christina Martin introducing Keep Me Calm September 14, 2018
This next song was inspired by my best friend, someone who has been almost unconditionally loving and supporting. There was one condition: I did have to marry the fucking guy. This song is called Keep Me Calm.
Baby keep me calm tonight I can’t believe things turned so fast Baby, keep me calm until I Find my way to a pretty truce
This gets harder With every pulse, my heart breaks We get stronger The taste of sweet joy when we hit the stage Until then baby keep me calm
Baby sing our song tonight Help me remember why I still fight Baby pressures on, I carry All the worries, I want to let it go
October 20, 2020 Phone Interview
When you watch a movie or TV show, do you get anxious when you see people close together?
I’m watching Parks and Rec right now. Andy will hug Chris, and it makes me think about hugging. We can’t do that anymore. Some people do, but I don’t. Will there be a time where it’ll be safe to hug again, or is hugging over?
I saw you perform last year here in Fredericton. That was an intimate setting. Who knows when that will happen again?
I know that the venue is still having shows, and that’s great. I postponed my show there. We were supposed to do something on October 17th. It’s hard to sell tickets right now. People are tapped out from online events and worrying about contracting COVID-19. I can’t afford to cancel because of an outbreak.
I’d love to be the one who says, by next spring, this will all be over. We also said it’d be done by now, and it’s getting worse, I guess? I try staying away from the news and the COVID-19 numbers. Do you do that? I stopped because there’s nothing I can do besides what I can do to protect myself. What’s one more thing I can do to get on with life? I am going to stop reading the news about this specific thing because there’s nothing I can do. I’m sure I’ll hear about it when there’s a vaccine ready. Until then, I’m pretending that it’s everywhere.
Live at the Marquee Ballroom: Impossible to Hold Lyrics from Keep Me Calm
Baby keep me calm I could use your strength Baby you’re so strong Will you keep me calm
October 20, 2020 Phone Interview
Let’s go back to March. In a livestream from France, you announced that one of your shows had been cancelled. You were hoping to have no more shows cancelled. What was going through your mind at the time?
It feels wild right now to think about my mindset where I was at the time. It just speaks to the inexperience of ever living in a pandemic and understanding the severity of it. We were travelling with no masks, and we were doing shows.
Dale and I were asking ourselves, what if this ramps up? This is our livelihood. If this goes bust, I thought, how am I going to survive financially? This can’t happen. What can I do to keep any of this going? We were talking about staying and playing whatever shows weren’t cancelled. We were just grasping onto this idea that we could keep things going. Maybe in a week or two, this thing will blow over. It’s unbelievable that I was thinking that. We just didn’t understand the severity of it.
When the Canadian government urged Canadians to return home, I think that was it for us. I had to shut off that part of my brain that was concerned about the consequences for my business, and I put our health and safety first. That’s when I made the call. We had a few more cancellations that week, which confirmed that the pandemic was going to keep going for a while. When the decision is made for you, it’s a lot easier.
When you got home, did you give yourself some time to deflate, or were you right back to work?
Hell, no. I hit the ground running. How am I going to pick up the pieces? I had to dig into my finances. I had to ask around about support. I had to do final reports for the tour. I was concerned about money. I still am, but it was extremely heightened at that point. Every day since then, I get up at 7 a.m, and I go to work. There might be days where I crash, but it’s been a consistent “how am I going to adapt?”
September 14, 2018: Christina Martin performing live at The Marquee Ballroom in Halifax, Nova Scotia.
January 5, 2018 Christina Martin’s first time onFacebook Live
Am I live? I’m waiting for Dale Murray, my co-producer. He’s sitting over there. I am waiting for him to give me a heads up to let me know if this is working. We have been on Facebook Live for 26 seconds, and I am nearly paralyzed with fear. I am so excited about this.
Later, I am going to talk about my goals, and hopes, and dreams for Facebook Live. I feel like such a dork. I feel like this is something people have been doing forever. I was scared, and I put it off. It’s like the skinny jeans thing. I was the last one to join that train, and now I’m stuck. I’m hooked on skinny jeans.
I think this will be a powerful way to connect with people.
October 20, 2020 Phone Interview
We learned quickly how dependent we would be on the internet and how shitty our bandwidth is living in rural Nova Scotia. Our upload speed hovers between 0.2 and 1.0 mbps. That’s been really hard.
I was fortunate coming into this that I was already thinking, what can we do online? I didn’t know I had so much to learn when COVID-19 hit. It’s a whole other ballgame. It’s so stressful when you try to go live, and people are complaining because there’s a delay. In a room, you can unplug your guitar and play for people. It’s not the same when you have shitty internet.
Did you ever imagine that you would be so online-oriented?
I wanted to focus on being a better onstage performer. Bells and whistles aside, I do find immense value in connecting with people around the world. It’s sort of like picking up the phone. I think that’s what has kept me going, connecting with people and seeing their responses.
March 27, 2020 Facebook Post
I’m taking advantage of the time I have at home to work and rest and maybe build a garden once the snow melts. I am dreaming of, and looking forward to, days when we can venture outside, and work together in close proximity again. Maybe I’ll go out dancing more. I wonder how this will change things. Will it be better or worse? Will we be stronger?
October 20, 2020 Phone Interview
How’s Dale doing?
He’s doing well. He is more handsome every day. He’s helping a friend trim bud. We might have to find other jobs. Everybody else is probably having to do the same thing. Nothing you want to do, but yeah, that could happen, that we have to do something else.
This past year, have you at any point thought, well, this is the end of the road? We had a good run. It’s time to live a less complicated life.
I’m not there yet where I’m ready to give up on what I’ve built. We moved out here to create a certain kind of life. We don’t know if things will be fine next year. I’m not ready to give up on fully dedicating myself to a life as a career artist. If we can make it through a pandemic doing the work we love, then hopefully, we will be stronger and wiser.
February 28, 2021 Facebook Live
Welcome to episode 21 of Cabin Fever. It’s Sunday, February 28th. I had to check. I have to check every day what day it is. A lot of days feel the same over here, and I’m sure in your household, too. That’s why it’s important to shake things up a bit.
How has your week been, everybody? Everything is fine over here. I will admit to feeling a little blocked in my work. There’s so many things I want to be doing. I’m not complaining, but sometimes I get impatient. You can only do so much. Take things one day at a time. Enjoy the work! I’m talking myself into a better place, so thank you for listening.
March 19, 2021 Phone Interview
How is your morning going so far?
I have been working on a Canada Council application all morning. That involves creating budgets, describing something you have not created yet, and putting value to your art and other people’s involvement.
After so many years of writing applications, has the process gotten any easier?
I think there’s some solace in knowing that you’ve done certain things before and have come out alright. But when you are trying to do something new with your work, it will feel uncomfortable, and that’s a good place to be in.
Back in October, you talked about working on a new album.
Dale and I started work on my new album in January. I had written most of the songs by last summer. We rented the Capitol Theatre in Oxford, Nova Scotia, so we could better follow pandemic safety precautions. We rented local accommodations in Cumberland County for the musicians. It was wonderful to make music with friends again.
We are in the mixing and trial-and-error stage of the new record. Simultaneously, I am trying to map out what I want to do with the artwork, live presentation, and music videos over the next year.
It’s coming together. We are excited about the music and how it’s sounding.
It has now been a year since you and Dale returned home from your European tour. What have you learned from this past year?
We’re not really in control as much as we like to think we are. Also, we need to learn to slow down and simplify our lives. The global environmental crisis: that has been on my mind, too. We live in a world that is obsessed with making money and consuming. Let’s not forget what’s going on and how we ended up here. Otherwise, things are going to look even worse in our lifetime.
Last Night at the Strip Club is a CBC Short Docs Original. Written/Directed: Nicole Bazuin. Featuring Andrea Werhun.
In 2017, Andrea Werhun and Nicole Bazuin launched a Kickstarter campaign to help publish their book Modern Whore. The “creative memoir” would feature stories from Werhun’s time as an escort and film photography by Bazuin. The crowdfunding campaign succeeded, with Modern Whore launching in bookstores across North America.
A few years later, Bazuin helmed the short film adaptation of Modern Whore, a hybrid documentary featuring Werhun. It would enjoy its world premiere at SXSW 2020 as part of the film festival’s Documentary Shorts Program. SXSW 2020 was cancelled due to the coronavirus pandemic, leading Modern Whore to premiere online — not in Austin, Texas, as planned.
“I didn’t want to be there anymore, not in a pandemic. It just didn’t feel safe. So, I got my things together, got on my bike, and went home. Two days later, the club was closed.
— Andrea Werhun, Last Night at the Strip Club
The documentary begins with Werhun looking back on her last few shifts at the strip club where she worked. She tells her story while recreating her stripper makeup in a video tutorial. “This is March 2020,” Werhun says, applying powder to her face. “Sports had been cancelled. Handshakes had been cancelled. So, how am I supposed to give a guy a lap dance if I can’t even give him a handshake?” The club closes after Premier Doug Ford declares a state of emergency in Ontario. Werhun needs to “think fast” as she faces an uncertain future.
“Think of this as meaningful quarantine companionship that is creative, conversational, and intimate in nature, centered around our mutual interests. A muse for hire, sure to amuse! Let’s go H-A-M.”
— Andrea Werhun, Official Website
Werhun comes up with something she calls Hire-A-Muse, or H-A-M. She describes H-A-M as falling into a “neat grey area of sex work.” There are a variety of packages offered through H-A-M, including private dance videos, tarot readings, and writing workshops (“I’m currently helping a sex worker organize their memoir”).
The documentary finds Werhun at home, working on her computer. She has landed a book deal to write a memoir about her stripping years. “What a time to write a book,” Werhun says to her editor over a video call.
Last Night at the Strip Club leaves us with Werhun writing late into the night. Her computer screen glows brightly in her face as she muses on the future. “Making plans is often a joke, but I do think it’s important to hold some dreams dear, so I’m just going to keep quietly plugging away at my dreams.”
Watching the film reminds me of all the artists who migrated online to save their livelihoods. Stand-up comedians are doing Zoom shows. Musicians are performing livestream concerts. For some artists, the transition has been difficult, whether it be technical difficulties, screen fatigue, or feeling drained by the world right now. Still, these artists, who were left scrambling to find alternatives, make it work and continue to pursue their dreams despite the challenges.
Werhun displays a knack for comedy. She is a great storyteller, a magnetic presence in this multi-layered documentary that throws viewers back a few decades with bright colours and a groovy soundtrack. The film strikes a balance between style and sincerity. Underneath its glitz and glamour, the documentary expresses anxiety over the future, capturing a relatable numbness in the face of continued uncertainty. The film’s final image, which shows Werhun writing late at night, that’s a lot of us right now. We are all trying to make it work. If we didn’t know it before, we know it now. Nothing in life is guaranteed. But why not try, because who knows what tomorrow holds?
Last Night at the Strip Club is a stylish but thoughtful film that sees its protagonist recreate herself after losing her job during a pandemic. Recommended viewing for anyone in need of a laugh and motivation to pursue their passion.
Joyful Magpies 