- by Aly Boltman
When I worked at The Roxy, I had this hope that the theatre would become a bit like Sesame Street. No, not as in a sudden puppetry arts focus, as in a go-to comfort zone for everyone in the community -- little kids, students, seniors, families, businesses, everyone.
It was also my hope that local plays would one day grace the stage to bring our stories to life and to help the community understand that the theatre really was meant for all of us.
I had this hope that one day, everyone in the community could say they'd not just been there, but actually participated in something in some way.
While I think that the "everybody" concept might have been overreaching a bit, I had a profound moment in the building tonight when I went to see Levi perform his end of summer circus troupe skills show under Angola Murdoch's direction. Kids that had never done circus before and more experienced kids started gathering every Tuesday this past July, and by tonight, they were all flying around on silks and trapezes. Indigenous kids. Kids with local black roots tied to the Underground Railroad. Kids from all kinds of families from all sorts of socio-economic backgrounds. And it got me thinking.
When the parents buzzed the door to get in for the family show, any number of those kids would pad barefoot through the backstage ramps to open the door for them, perfectly comfortable in the space, like it was their home. Their teacher? An internationally-renowned Cirque de Soleil artist, a woman who grew up here and came back to raise her own kids. The program was supported by Cirque and the Eva Leflar Foundation, another (deceased) local philanthropist with generations of family ties to Grey County's earliest non-Indigenous settlers.
Just two weeks ago, I was in that same theatre watching my other son Ezra and 15 other kids performing a full musical they'd put together at summer camp in under two weeks, led by Christy Eaglesham. She is yet another local who has come back to make a go of it here full-time starting this fall with the rebirth of the Roxy Young Company.
Christy's dad was David Leslie, a veteran Owen Sound Little Theatre (OSLT) performer whose scholarship (built by community donations in his memory) supports a different local student's post-secondary studies each year.
In the lobby, there were about 10 or 15 people working on Gas Head Willy, a theatrical rendition of the book written by local author Richard Thomas, directed by Bill Murphy, a former teacher in the local schools for many years and my old boss. There were newcomers on that team, people I'd never seen in the theatre before. And Ruth Gorbet, an OSLT founder now in her late 80s, is also working on her role in that show in between her regular volunteer ushering duties.
On the walls, art by the talented local artist Louise Moore.
On other walls, sponsorship posters running the gamut from small to large businesses, as well as donor plaques representing all corners of the public and private sector.
On the marquee, a play coming this fall by Mark Vigneux, a lawyer-turned-teacher and now local playwright, represented by another yet totally different crew of local people contributing to its success.
On the photographic wall outside, generations of local people's photographs showing decades of local productions. I knew almost every one of those people.
And over the wires, through email, regular updates from the membership through Owen Sound Little Theatre newsletters and letters from the Theatre Manager Maria Canton and Volunteer Coordinator Leanne, so you can easily keep up with the planned bus trips, production workshops, volunteering opportunities, cleaning bees, 80th birthday parties, and more. And next Monday, I'll start rehearsals (4 times a week for 3 months) for my first musical in close to 30 years.
Tonight, everything felt connected. Tonight, everything felt like Sesame Street. I tip my hat to you, OSLT. You are truly one of a kind.
photo: Many thanks to the generous John Fearnall
