The Aurora Borealis Arts Council-sponsored production of Sargent, Victor, and Me was performed on the main floor of the Lawrie Marsh Community Hall on the evening of Saturday, Sept. 24. This in itself is outside the norm… most anything the folks from the arts council put on takes place on the Centennial Stage; not the main floor.
In respect to the layout, upon entering the hall, the first thing noted was that there were two rows of chairs in the centre of the floor, surrounding numerous clothes hampers containing food stuffs. The initial thought from many in the audience was, “Oh no, is this going to be some sort of interactive show… one where spectators have to take part?” As a result, what began as trepidation, quickly turned to perplexity, and then to awe as the single act of this amazing one person production played out.
In relation to the trepidation, personally, I felt a bit concerned when I noted my wife had chosen front row seats, because I certainly wasn’t in the market or mood for an acting stint. The feeling was amplified when the solitary performer asked each person, as they entered, to fill out a food bank registration form… we all complied and passed them in without being called on to do anything further.
The perplexity that was felt, manifested itself (for me anyway) in a feeling of unease. When the actor, who walked with a cane, wore a leg brace, and was obviously immobilized by some affliction, took off the brace and began crawling on floor, filling the food hampers with produce. You felt like you wanted to help; one person even offered, but this was part of the play and meant to set up the effect of her character; she refused the offer.
The awe evolved from actor and playwright, Debbie Patterson’s command of the personalities, mannerisms, and vocabularies of the half dozen or so people she portrayed… this was in addition to having a great arm and true aim when tossing bags of noodles and boxes of KD while filling the hampers in the centre of the hall.
The play was centered around a food bank situated on the corner of Winnipeg’s Sargent and Victor Streets. Patterson played a number of people who worked in or used the food bank over the two hours the play ran.
She truly brought to life the tragedy of the inner city, as well as the personalities and problems of workers and food bank clients; however, the two characters who got the most exposure were (what the audience assumed was) herself and a 14-year-old street kid, named Alexis. Patterson’s words presented this child’s soul like an open wound and brought to life and to light her own struggles with multiple sclerosis. It focused on racism, religion, rage and resolution and a scene near the end, featuring a dandelion, was the perfect analogy to portray her spirit… something that is beaten back so many times but refused to die… it actually flourishes.
Talking with arts council member, Phyllis Verbeek shortly after the show, she informed me that the door count was 36 tickets sold. “Attendance was a big disappointment,” said Verbeek. “We don’t know what people want. Folks aren’t moving to town because, ‘Snow Lake has so little to offer’. When we offer (something) folks don’t show up. Go figure!”
The total of a 50/50 draw done prior to the presentation was $135. Roxane Lamontagne won and promptly donated her share ($67.50) back to the Arts Council.
My Take on Snow Lake is published on Fridays.
