the norton debacle

From TORONTO
March 28th, 2008


I have a confession, and therefore an apology, to make:

I broke up the Stratford Festival Artistic Directorship.

Yes; despite what you may have heard and whatever overtures have been made to protect me and keep my name out of the media, I, Lisa Norton (a.k.a. The Skeptical Tourist), bear the sole responsibility for all this unrest and upheaval. Phew. I feel so much better. The guilt was killing me.

Here, in brief, is how it all went down. Some weeks ago, I had my first ever audition for Stratford. I had never so much as mailed a resume there before; the new triumvirate of Artistic Directors, however, signalled to me an infusion of hope and excitement to the tired old place. The Stratford Festival, I thought, might finally be ready for me.

I was to perform two monologues for and interview with new (now former) Artistic Director Don Shipley, and was excited to meet him. In I walked to the rehearsal hall high above Toronto's Canon Theatre, photo and CV in hand, hair done largely and elaborately, my best facial expressions only recently practiced in the mirror, to meet Don and Bonnie Green, the casting associate. "Hi Don," I said, "How're things?" He began to cry.

I mention this because, in retrospect, it was the first sign that something was wrong. It was, however, soon remedied, if only temporarily, by my audition. I gave such a dazzling display of acting virtuosity that Mr Shipley was immediately cheered, all worries forgotten. "WOW!" he exclaimed. "Jeez! GOSH! Oh my! Sarblllaphhhhrgat!" He momentarily lost all control and peed on the floor. Eventually recovering, he sat me down for a chat as Ms Green scrambled to find some paper towels and clean up the mess. "Honestly," said Don, "I have never seen anything so wonderful in all my life. If you could do that with a mere two contrasting pieces in four minutes or less.....Why, just imagine the possibilities! You, my dear, could change the world." I agreed and went on my way, thinking nothing of it. I expected contact from Stratford shortly.

It came a scant few days later in the form of a panicked phone call from Stratford General Director Antoni Cimolino.
"Lisa!" he said. "We don't know what to do! You're tearing this place apart!"
"Hey there, Tone," I told him, "Slow down. Take a breath. Drop and give me ten."
He did so, and then, as calmly as he could, informed me of the recent goings on at Stratford. I've pieced it together as best I can.

It seems that Don Shipley, as soon as I left the audition hall, immediately cancelled all other auditions for the day, and in fact, the entire week. "That's it," he told Bonnie. "That's all I need to see." They made instant haste back to Stratford, only stopping for a couple of Quarter Pounders and two Shamrock Shakes along the way and talking madly on their cell phones, arranging an emergency meeting of the Artistic Team and the General Director for the moment they got back to Stratford.

Their car squealed into the staff lot just as Des McAnuff's helicopter arrived from New York and Marti Maraden pulled up on her bicycle. They all made a run for Antoni Cimolino's office, pushing and shoving, Shipley madly waving my photo and resume in the air......and after getting stuck in the doorway for just a moment, they managed to get inside and sit down.

Don Shipley informed the group of what he had just witnessed. "We must have her!" he told them, "We must! I must!" I would, he decided on the spur of the moment, play Cleopatra in Caesar and Cleopatra in the 2009 season.
"But we're already doing that play in the 2008 season," Marti Maraden reminded him. "It's been cast."
"Are we?" said Des McAnuff. "That sounds like fun!"
"You're directing it", said Marti.
"Yay!" said Des.
"Who cares!" said Don. "We'll do it again! In fact, we'll repeat the entire 2008 season, only based around Lisa Norton. She'll make a fantastic Juliet! I'll direct her!"
"No," interjected Marti, "Surely I should direct her......that is, if she needs direction at all! I won't let you near her! After all - I knew her first!"
"I've never even heard of this Lisa Norton," said Des McAnuff, "But I sure like her headshot! Let's fill the lobby of the Festival Theatre with a permanent display of sculptures of her! She'll spend the whole season posing for me! I'll sing songs!"
"What are you talking about?" said Marti.
"LAAAAA!" said Des.

Bonnie Green discreetly snuck off with the remains of her Quarter Pounder with cheese.

What ensued was one of the ugliest fights over me since....well, it's so hard to compare really..... There have been some pretty nasty fights over me lo these many years. But it was up there. Each Artistic Director wanted me to his or herself entirely. None would concede that another might be allowed to direct me in a play, speak to me, or hold my hand while strolling along the Avon. Each wanted me as his personal muse at the newly christened Lisa Norton Shakespeare Festival of Canada (the name of which was the only talking point they could agree on).

Antoni Cimolino watched quietly for the most part, caressing his pet Siamese cat and sitting back in his high-backed leather chair. Then he stroked his newly grown goatee and reached for the big red button on his desk. Not the "eject" button. Not the "arm nuclear device" button. The other one.

As the carefully aimed taser guns retreated back into the walls, and the triumvirate of Artistic Directors lay writhing on the ground, Cimolino leaned forward and finally spoke. "The Norton," he said calmly, "Is MINE. I shall direct her. I shall speak to her. I will keep her in a box in my office, and let her out when I please. I will cover her with lanolin to make her skin soft and shiny and then I shall make her into a coat that I will wear to the prom. Now does ANYONE have a problem with that?"
"How dare you," managed Shipley.
"I'll never allow it," said Maraden.
"YAY!" said McAnuff.

"Ouzounians!" called Cimolino, and in marched his team of specialized security monkeys. (With wings.) "Remove Ms Maraden and Mr Shipley from my office. We will announce their joint resignation tomorrow. Muah ha ha."

But the two, weakened as they were by the taser attack, would not leave it at that.
"You will never have the Norton!" cried Maraden, throwing monkeys from her back and attacking Cimolino with sudden superhuman strength. Shipley, similarly fortified by rage (and love for me - not to mention the amazing properties of the McDonald's Shamrock Shake), made a run at him as well. They bruised him; they beat him; they tore off his new goatee. Des MacAnuff ate his cat, just for kicks. "You're on my side, Des!" cried Cimolino, shielding his head and his collection of poseable Cynthia Dale action figures as best he could. "Yippee!" said Des, and ran out to his helicopter and flew to England.

The phone call I received was made by Cimolino from under his desk during a temporary stand-off three days later. The Ouzounians had abandoned him and flown away to write an article, and the fight had continued, Shipley and Maraden alternating between ganging up on him and turning on one another to fight over me.

"We don't know what to do! You're tearing this place apart!"
"Hey there, Tone. Slow down. Take a breath. Drop and give me ten."
"They ate my cat!"

Anyway, Dear Reader, there was only one way to settle the thing. "Forget it," I told them on speaker phone, "Let it go. I can't stand to see you injure one another, not to mention flying monkeys, on my behalf. Besides....and you should have realized this....The Norton belongs to no man."

I wish I could say that solved all their problems. However, after another hour or so of kicking and biting, Mr Shipley and Ms Maraden left anyway, and have since become a bit of an annoyance to me with their constant stalking and attempted professional wooing. Mr Cimolino has acquired a new cat, is working on his goatee, and has instructed the Ouzounians to keep my name out of the press and go back to their usual routine of slagging hardworking theatre professionals and raving about the blueness of Nicole Kidman's eyes.

I, however, obviously felt that the truth must out. Again, my sincere apologies for all of this.....
and for the fact that The Lisa Norton Shakespeare Festival of Canada will have to remain but a lovely dream.
.....For now.

the practical artist

From TORONTO,
March 1st, 2008

It has been brought to my recent attention that Larry LaForet, the administrator (read: guy who gets shit done) at my esteemed alma mater, Toronto's James Brown Theatre School, has been advertising this humble page in the school's newsletter. Imagine my surprise on discovering that an entire generation of young actors is being exposed to the thoughts, dreams and wisdom contained herein. This, I thought, is surely an opportunity that must not be passed by! I must do all I can to help these young people! I must warn them of pitfalls! Prepare them for joys! Direct them away from jobs that they will beat me out for! Ignore that last bit! Above all, I must use many -MANY! - exclamation points!!!(!)

So here, excitedly sweating and shivery reader, is the first ever official edition of.....
THE SKEPTICAL TOURIST'S ADVICE TO YOUNG ACTORS.

First things first.
On AUDITIONS:
It really can't be said enough: just be yourself. For instance, if you wake up the morning of a big audition wearing sweatpants and a bra.....Well, that's you, isn't it? And if it's good enough for you, it should be good enough for them. The last thing a director wants is one more cookie-cutter theatre school grad wearing pants and a shirt. I mean, please. Booooo-ring.

The Tourist's personal, much-honed, never-fail patented three secrets to landing theatre jobs:
1. Big Hair.
2. Loud voice.
3. Lots of facial expressions and hand gestures.

For film auditions, best to get as close to the camera as possible. About an inch or two will do. And again, speak as loudly as you can, and make exaggerated facial expressions - you don't want to lose a part because they missed something or because your choices were unclear.

The night before a voice audition, be sure to drink a lot of bourbon and smoke a pack or two of cigarettes. Suck some cock if possible. The scratchy sound is "in". Trust me. And if you don't get the job, hey, at least you had some fun preparing.

When auditioning/working for a woman, be sure to compliment her on how clever and articulate she is for a lady director. She needs and will appreciate the encouragement; use it unsparingly. In the case of a non-white director.....oh, wait. That never happens. Although, it must be said, the performing arts is right up there as one of Canada's most ethnically diverse employment sectors, coming only after:
Accountancy and business services
Advertising, marketing and PR
Banking, investment and insurance
Construction
Education
Engineering
Environmental, food chain and rural
Fashion and textile
Food and drink
Health
Hospitality
Human resources and recruitment
Information technology
Legal services
Local, regional and national government
Manufacturing
Oil, gas and petroleum
Property
Publishing
Retail
Science
Small to medium-sized enterprises (SMEs)
Social care
Sport and leisure
Tourism
Transport and logistics

So there you go. By the way, James Brown College does offer excellent courses in all of the above, in case you should happen to be interested. The motorcycle maintenance program has a particularly fine reputation, as does jewellery construction. Perhaps a double major?

On WORKSHOPS:
Throughout your wildly successful career, you will participate in many readings/workshops of new plays. Expect to be asked your candid opinion of the dialogue, character arcs, et cetera. I take this aspect of my work very seriously, and am always sure to present the author with pages of detailed notes and criticisms, harsh if necessary. It is of no help to anyone to be polite; if the play, in your valuable opinion, sucks, simply say, "This play sucks." And then walk out. It's direct, it's to the point, and the playwright will thank you later. At least I assume so. No one's thanked me yet....but it's just a matter of time.

On ACTING SHAKESPEARE:
Louder! More facial expressions! Bigger hair!

A general, but crucial note:
LIVE FAST! DIE YOUNG! (Hereafter referred to as LFDY)
Let's face it. Pretty soon your looks are going to fade and the parts will dry up. So you might as well enjoy life while you can. Besides, drugs are fun! Excessive drinking will impress your friends! And unprotected sex with strangers.....ROCKS! But you're in college, I don't need to tell you any of this. In fact, you could probably teach me a thing or two. To do so, contact me at your convenience.

On PLAY PRACTICE:
Here you are, fresh out of school, and you've landed your first gig. You are the youngest and least experienced person in the cast. Rehearsals begin this morning and you're terrified. Don't be, young and sexy reader! First of all, if you've been following the Golden Rule (see LFDY, above), the booze should have taken a bit of the edge off. Secondly, just look at it this way. You, of all people, are prepared for this process, freshly equipped with all the tools you need to get you through. For example, who in the rehearsal hall has the most recent experience whooshing around in a neutral mask being the wind? You do! Who is an expert at lying on the floor and moaning? Why, you again! Who knows the most stunning variety of trust and clapping games? You guessed it - YOU, you acting star you!

Speaking of trust and clapping games, don't hesitate to share these with your fellow professionals. Experienced performers, particularly much older ones who haven't had the benefit of recent theatre school training, will really appreciate what you have to give. Not only does taking, say, an hour of each rehearsal morning to teach trust exercises provide a forum for a true bonding experience amongst the cast, but your director is likely to be tangibly grateful and come to see you as an assistant director of sorts.

While on the topic of older actors, I should tell you that, yes, you can expect a share of ribbing about your youth. Costars will constantly squeal when they hear your age, pinch your cheeks or other parts of you, and remind you that they have socks that are not only older than you are, but have made more appearances on stage. This, however, is a situation that can be alleviated by use of another tried and true technique of mine. Think back. What did your dad always tell you about bullies? That's right: just bend over and take it quietly. But what did your grandpa tell you? If you let them get away with it the first time, it will never stop. Well, the same principle applies here. So, to set an unforgettable precedent, the first time someone refers to you as the "baby of the cast", immediately knee him right in the crotch. Then, to avoid awkwardness, explain that it's nothing personal and offer to teach him "the one where you clap your names across the circle". Better yet, offer help with that dialect he's obviously struggling with, or to tap his back during his vocal warmup. I took this approach with esteemed stage actor Jim Mezon, and we are the better friends for it.

on FILM:
How the fuck should I know? I mean, um.....

on FESTIVALS:
When you land your first season at one of the large theatre festivals, you will encounter the repertory system, working on two or three productions simultaneously. Take it from one with experience: one of the plays is bound to be lousy. Why waste your energy trying to make that one any good? Better to concentrate your efforts and talents (not to mention best facial expressions) on the play you like, and use the other one as a little break. Instead of preparing or warming up, get your knitting or decoupage done backstage - or better yet, ON stage. And why bother learning your lines when you can sneak a script on with you as a prop and simply read them aloud? As quickly as you can. Stage management will love you for this as you will be reliable, shave tens of minutes off a boring play, and can also prompt anyone else who forgets a line.

While on the topic of STAGE MANAGEMENT...... Many people are intimidated by their SM. This is silly. After all, the stage management, like all the rest of the support staff, is there to help you, the actor, at the front lines. Your stage manager will sometimes give you notes on your performance: while you may not actually take the notes, always smile politely and thank her; she is just trying to be a part of your important world. To make an assistant stage manager feel important, give her little tasks, such as fetching you coffee. These small gestures may seem insignificant, but believe me, they will add up, and your stage management team will never forget you.
This general approach also works well with designers (who by the way love, even need, to hear your every criticism of their work), technicians, production managers, publicists, and anyone else who works in your shadow.

Back to the rep system. Another aspect of this world is UNDERSTUDYING.
Don't forget that this is a collaborative experience. The role is as much yours as it is the actor's who is "playing" it; after all, you may need to go on at any moment. Ask questions of the other actor during rehearsals.....make sure you understand all of her choices.....offer help on bits she isn't getting right......try on her costumes from time to time to make sure they work for you. And if she seems tense on opening night, slip a little something in her water to help her relax. As they're always telling you in school, just be as generous as you can.

Above all, see the festival system as what it is: Summer Theatre Camp. And you know what that means: yet another great opportunity to....you guessed it, LIVE FAST DIE YOUNG! And at all costs (literally), don't leave your run there (or anywhere) with savings in the bank! Leave with an impressive wardrobe of expensive clothes and electronic gadgets that will comfort you through tough times to come!

Besides, everyone knows when you leave one gig, you get another one IMMEDIATELY! At least you will - if you're sure to follow all these valuable tips (and any more to follow) from.....

Your dearest friend,

The Skeptical Tourist