How becoming a small-town artistic director made me realize the power of community theatre

This is a story about settling down while awakening something new. A kind of personal juxtaposition found amid the work of running a small-town professional theatre. 

In my career, I've worked in plays and musicals, in collective creation and installation, and with youth and seniors. I've worked in Toronto theatres, regional houses, festivals, and post-secondary programs, as well as with music organizations and in opera. I find richness in an artistic practice that is multi-faceted. But for the past few years, I have been searching for a place to call my artistic home — so I leapt at the opportunity to move to Port Hope, a small town just an hour east of Toronto, and join the Capitol Theatre as their new Artistic Producer.

You see, community is at the core of my work as an artist. At its best, I believe that theatre is like the library: preserving and sharing stories in an accessible and engaging manner. So the opportunity to develop a vision for the future of a small-town theatre is something of a dream come true.

In regional settings, the audience comes to the theatre for many different reasons — to be entertained, enlightened, challenged, moved, and even understood. But if the shared artistic experience is valued and valuable, the work onstage can create opportunities for increased social connection within a community.

Nothing like a lofty goal to get me started…

Upon my arrival at the Capitol this past fall, I was immediately tasked with developing robust holiday programming, creating and launching a 2022 season plan, and inexplicably decorating a large number of Christmas trees (more on that later). I don't necessarily recommend taking the reins of a theatre in the midst of a pandemic — but in my brightest moments, I do think that our collective experience of this time has increased our desire to connect and care for one another.

So I set off to create a season that reflected this desire to connect by finding ways to cross generational, gender, and cultural divides so that everyone would feel welcome at the theatre. When creating the season, and visioning for the future, I have tried to prioritize artistic excellence, inclusion and access, balance, safety, and community connection. 

With pandemic restrictions very much still in flux, I had to make nimble and flexible decisions while also honouring tradition and trying to attract new folks into the theatre. Our annual holiday panto was replaced with an improv show (for increased flexibility), but even though it was well-received by our audiences, it was also forced to close early because of Omicron. Even before the holiday season launched, we had to announce our 2022 season programming with a brave face, hoping we would be able to produce it. 

I remember a particularly stressful moment in December, when we were fairly certain that Omicron would shut us down. I gathered our tiny staff into my office for a meeting and we gave one another individual pep talks, reminded ourselves why we do what we do, and offered support to each other in a variety of ways. That day, we were all reminded of the power of truly collaborating with your community. Finding connections, both within and beyond your organization, can help to share the load. It doesn't check every box that I'm working on, but it's a pretty good start. 

As an art form, theatre can both respond to the world around us and allow us an escape. And now, in the midst of our 2022 summer season, I find myself surrounded by a deeply committed staff, 150 dedicated volunteers, a community of supporters, and some of the most inspiring artists in the country. We still haven't seen our audiences come back completely, and finding donors and sponsors to support the work on stage is difficult as so many are still recovering from the last two years. But if we stay the course — hold fast to the vision we've created — I know that we will continue to share stories, create memories, and make connections for decades to come. 

However, my job is not only about vision. It's also about showing up every day, ready to tackle whatever is facing the organization — whether that's finding community hosts for over 50 artists, arranging a cheese tray, or re-writing my contracts for the hundredth time. Those Christmas trees I mentioned? They're part of the annual Festival of Lights & Trees, a deeply valued community event that has been happening at the Capitol for the last 25 years. That's the kind of work I want to be doing — creating space for art and artists to thrive hand-in-hand with the community they serve. Even if it occasionally means getting covered in seasonal glitter. 

I hope you'll come out and visit us in Port Hope at the Capitol Theatre this summer. Like me, you might just reconnect with the power of community, after so many months apart.