ONE PERSON MAKES A BIG DIFFERENCE
r.i.p. brian paisley
and that person who made a big difference is Brian Paisley
the guy who began Canada’s first Fringe festival
Edmonton
who first conceived the Canadian Fringe tour
and who passed earlier this month
...
so this post i have shared below is from Brian’s friend and mine, Ken Brown
and is about the difference made by this guy, and his coterie of hard-working enthusiasts
Ken’s piece gives this a deep perspective within North American theatre i wouldn’t have been capable of...
...
KEN’S POST
My dear friend Brian is dead. His death signifies the end of a vitally important era in the history of Canadian theatre. It also sounds a heavy knoll on those of us who loved him.
Canadian theatre was an evolving entity in 1981. It had gone through a Colonial period, in which nearly all of our theatre was given over to the production of plays from England and the United States. These plays were performed in theatres founded by, and run by, people who did not speak with our accent. Most spoke some version of English from the British Isles. We Canucks had been very busy surviving, and then in the mid-20th Century, helping European civilization survive. It was only in the course of Brian’s lifetime that we finally began to take control of our theatres, to write our own plays, and direct our home-grown actors. From about 1970 until 1982, Canadian theatre invented itself, led by visionaries across the country, from Paul Thompson in Toronto to Gerry Potter in Edmonton, we founded literally hundreds of theatre organizations devoted to the Canadian experience. Then Brian Paisley came back from the Edinborough Fringe Festival with a Big Idea: We could do the same thing as the Scots had done: we could run a festival in the city of Edmonton consisting of whatever work the theatre artists of this town chose to do. In 1982, Brian (and the energetic visionaries around him) got a chance to snag a $60,000 grant that was going unused, and invited a Edmonton theatricians to produce shows.
A bunch of companies responded to that call, and the first Edmonton Fringe Festival was born. To everyone’s surprise, it attracted thousands, many curious just to see what it might be like to drink a beer on the streets (a practice that was all but unknown in our town in 1982). We all know what happened in the years following. Thousands of writers, actors, and directors flocked to our town to seize the opportunity to show their new work. Edmonton developed a whole new language of theatre, as local artists figured out how to produce plays that could be set up in minutes. Great Edmonton playwrights came out ofd this development. We ended up with the largest theatre festival on the continent, attended by scores of thousands of enthusiasts who wanted to see, to hear, to share these new voices.
Through the first ten years of the Festival strode Brian Paisley, thinking up one unlikely idea after another to attract the audience and create a sense of something special happening in Old Strathcona. The sleepy community in which I was born became a raucous celebration of creativity, a vast social experiment, for two weeks every summer. By encouraging outdoor vendors, performers, and a vital street scene, Brian made people want to come out to the festival. This is the man most people remember. Many of us also remember that Brian was a dedicated artist. In the theatre he founded with his then-wife Ti Hallas, known as Chinook Theatre, Brian wrote directed, and produced new work. He invited unknowns like me to use the space (an invitation that was unique in the city). Like so many other artists, I had the opportunity to be heard at Chinook Theatre, to found a theatre company that could seek an audience at the Fringe, and seek to keep it at other times of the year.
Brian gave himself ten years as the Fringe’s Producer, and then, literally at the height of his fame in Edmonton, he walked away from the prestigious position that he had created to run the Princess Theatre. From there, he could encourage and promote the kind of deep cinema experience that was his first love, and open the doors of the Princess to theatre acts that had outgrown the 100-seat venues at the Fringe.
When Brian and his second wife Julia moved away to Victoria, Edmonton lost one of its great visionaries. But he kept many of the friends he had made in Edmonton. For my part, our friendship only deepened as we both became fathers to growing families. I loved Brian for his dry Irish wit, his unfailing curiosity, and his strong opinions. We kept in constant touch over the years, and when he finally moved, alone, to Puerto Escondido, a small town on the Pacific Coast of Mexico, he enthused about the house he had built there so frequently and so glowingly, that I finally went down to visit. Thus began a wonderful part of my life after retiring from MacEwan. Every winter I would spend weeks, or months in Mexico, and alway part of it at Brian’s delightful house a few streets from the ocean. We spent our days quietly writing, or taking the “collectivo” truck into the town to shop. We hung out on the beach in the moonlight. We discussed life, art, and love. We watched one movie a night, projected onto the white wall of his living room. Brian was always curious, always critical of foolishness, and always creating. He wrote several novels at “La Casa Mango” and several screenplays. He was an active artist/creator at all times.
Brian died this past weekend. He was 79 years old. Tragically, his end was not easy. He did not have medical insurance, and the weeks that he spent in an American-style clinic were massively expensive. It has been an immense struggle for his family to find money to pay the ongoing medical expenses, and many appeals have been made. I hope you will not find it amiss if I repeat that the need is ongoing. The financial situation is still very difficult for those he left behind, and I encourage you to help. Soon, there will be a musical benefit for Brian at La Cité Francophone. Please attend!
Here is the GoFundMe link: https://gofund.me/70b3543de
Brian was an artist, a social visionary, a critic of bad art and bad politics. He was gregarious, friendly, and outgoing. He was also a tremendously shy person in some ways. Those who knew him well knew that he was very happy with his own company, while being entirely capable of engaging a room. Or a city, for that matter. He created a theatre movement that has literally transformed theatre all over the English-speaking world. He enjoyed it all with an ironic smile on his lips that could break out into a nearly childlike joy when something was really working.
Rest In Peace, my dear of friend. We will all miss you tremendously.
Kenneth Brown
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Brian is a guy who truly did it
who took an idea and ran with it
for years
the Fringe ideal of a free artistic playground
created, every August, in Edmonton, Alberta
...
he was a great guy...
funny dynamic quick super-smart and enduringly passionate
i didn’t know him well
met him less than twenty times total
did not know what he looked like at forty until three days ago
yet he was always a pleasure
and a laugh
and ever a shot in the arm
...
...
i find it amazing how the Edmonton Fringe
Brian’s great legacy
has kept itself on the straight and narrow so long
in a changing city
and a changing world
yet one must ask
how will it endure?
and will it be betrayed?
...
the obvious comparison is with Edinburgh
the Mother of all Fringes
yet, now that the Edinburgh Fringe has long lost its ideals
people forget how long it held onto those ideals
for decades
for over half its life, from the late 40s until the mid-90s
before its Corporate carve-up
when it turned into the rapacious Libertarian marketplace it has now long been
...
the kind where God is most certainly on the side of the big guns
...
yet Brian first visited Edinburgh in the early 80s
when it still had principles
when it was still possible to use the words “principles” and “Edinburgh Fringe” in the same sentence without it being risible
and, as Ken explains, he took their glorious and thriving founding ideas
and ideals
and ran with them
a team, a coterie, a gang, and more, all formed around him
and they all ran with it full-tilt head-long for years
...
creating an ever-growing and wildly diverse festival of theatre in almost all its forms
with huge audiences
a marvellous atmosphere
and a thrilling array of possibilities for the up-for-it audience
...
so that original artistic dream
long gone in Scotland
still lives on in Canada
because of Brian
...
i’ve said and written repeatedly, ever since i discovered the Canadian Fringes
“if the Canadian Fringes are like a Franklin D Roosevelt version of Capitalism
then Edinburgh is like a Genghis Khan version of Capitalism”
and, errr, nobody tends to disagree with that statement
in the slightest
...
while Brian is the chief reason the Canadian Fringes have still
residually at least
kept their ideals
for the first principle of the Canadian Fringes
devised by Brian
is
“THE ARTIST KEEPS ONE HUNDRED PER CENT OF THE DOOR”
...
which, among other things, has created my living for over twenty years
...
and while all the Canadian Fringes might wriggle around this principle
with “service charges” etc
yet it still holds true-ish
and, if Brian’s principle was removed, everything would become very different very quickly
and it would soon become the rapacious marketplace of Edinburgh, Adelaide and more
but this hasn’t happened yet.
and why?
Brian
...
for in Canada a new artist
with a crazy idea
still has a chance
to succeed
thrive
get spurred
to make another, more
go further
and ...
...
while
in Edinburgh
they are simply another blood-red morsel
dropped into the voracious maw
of the venue-sharks
...
one of the great things about the Edmonton Fringe is that it loudly states
It Does Not Have To Be That Way
...
...
while, amazingly
the Fringe Tour was also Brian’s idea
for this unique and glorious thing
festival after festival in city after city across a vast country
for the whole Summer
was his conception
...
for once Edmonton was up and running
well
why not have a similar festival before, somewhere East of Alberta?
and after, somewhere West... Vancouver?
and soon Festivals spread across Canada
and became that unique wonder, the Canadian Fringe Tour
my living
...
and yes, the person who first thought of this was... Brian Paisley
this is real achievement for just one guy
...
...
of course Edinburgh has the Free Fringe
where, in 97, i ran one of the first two shows in what became that Free Fringe
[i did it less for reasons of ideal
even though i liked the ideal
i did it because it seemed the best way to get an audience and not fail]
...
while, as Brian Paisley would understand very well
what counts is to keep going with an idea
year in year out
and the guy who did that
who started the same year as me [i believe]
was Peter Buckley Hill
who just kept going
rode the sneers and jeers and
won out in the end
...
yet i soon jumped from doing Edinburgh
because i found something much better
much more free of bullshit
and elitism
and corporatism
and sharks
the Canadian Fringe Tour
begun by Brian
a free artistic milieu where you could and can stick your artistic neck right out
and make decent money
...
for the Canadian Fringe is cheap mass theatre
and cheap times mass maybe means plenty
...
...
Brian’s legacy is
of course
not so assured
yet its amazing it has lasted this long
though little lasts forever
...
while i believe i have an advantage in seeing what happens to Edmonton next
for i have been to the future
or, at least, a future
for i was in Edinburgh when the all-change happened
the Corporatism
the theft of innocence
the mid-late 90s
when the venues, the comedy agents and the City Council took over
when it was realised they didn’t have to just make money out of the audience
they could also make money out of the performers
and they certainly did
when they astutely transmuted decades of effort and youth and bravery and creativity into hard coin
as Artists began to lose thousands
and, while many artists were loudly protesting
the small-government Scottish Fringe found itself powerless to do anything about it
...
...
while it would be naive to believe money won’t find a way
that the Edmonton Fringe won’t be sold out somehow
so the question is
how will the Edmonton Fringe betray itself?
...
there are and will be fault-lines
which the following questions might probe at
...
...
what proportion of shows are wholly original?
written from scratch?
and is that proportion declining?
?
...
is the cap on price a socialist hold-out amongst the libertarianisms
?
...
is it true to say
“the women make art, the men make money”?
?
...
is there empire building within the Fringe?
and is the Fringe already facilitating it?
?
...
in the future there will be equivalents to the Pleasance, the Assembly, the Gilded Balloon, etc
who and where and what will these be?
?
...
in what ways are the three best Canadian Fringes, Edmonton, Winnipeg and Toronto, different from each other?
and are these divergences widening?
?
...
how many Canadian Fringes do local companies do for the money?
?
...
is it a triumph that there are TV stars in 450 seat venues?
when the size of that number, 450, means wholescale wipe-out for shows by unknowns
who struggle for a decent-sized audience
of course, TV stars were always going to come sooner or later
its a product of success
though the Fringe didn’t have to allow such huge venues
and therefore change the artistic ecosystem
and wipe-out shows by unknowns
?
...
in Edinburgh there came a point when the big venues could dictate to the Fringe
how far away [decades?] is that time for Edmonton?
?
...
how much harder does it get every year for new companies?
?
...
is there as much artistic risk being taken as there was ten years ago...
twenty?
?
...
...
i wonder what questions other Fringers
performers, audience, administrators
deem the most pertinent?
?
…
in other news
...
Kathmandu
curiously quieter on a Saturday
where i just walked down Freak Street
near the wonderful Durbar Square
and i’m told Freak Street is where the freaks would stay in the 60s and 70s
and the name stuck
...
coincidentally
i’m off to Sedi, above Pokhara
to see my old Gokarna mucker, Dave
who was here in 1976
and who was a “freak”
...
says Dave
WE WEREN’T HIPPIES
HIPPIES WAS MADE OF PLASTIC, MAN
WE WAS FREAKS
...
...
in other news
...
its a Kathmandu of moody skies
where the feet want to wander at near random
down the streets and lanes
and alleys
across the squares
past the old and older
the tumbledown and the tidy
the bustling and the heaving
the crammed and the crammeder
through Kathmandu
the dead-end squares and the long curving exitless streets
where the feet want to and can and shall
pace the straights and
random the corners
so its my third time
in one of my very favourite cities on Earth
maybe my favourite, after Montreal
yet this time its rainy season
which does put a damper
and which means
as the mornings are bright and clear and blue-above
and slowly cloud and grey and drizzle through the afternoon
to many an evening of unadulterated downpour
i should be rising well before six to enjoy the splendours
of the streets before they have people
of the markets as they wake up
of the shrinking shadows
of the empty squares
many with fabulous stupas
a little like a giant white toilet plunger
with weird pairs of eyes drawn here and there
with gentle omming music
and incense rising
and overhanging eaves
and post-earthquake girders, still, holding up old walls
all a fascination for the eye and feet drawn here
and there
through one higgledy-housed square
into another piggledy-housed square
into an alleyway
and maybe into a further smaller head-stooping alleyway
maybe leading to a dead-end where the locals stare at the stymied foreigner
maybe leading on to another white stupa in another irregularly housed square
then, suddenly, another busy street
or busier market
with colourful bunting and flags and pennants
with shiny brass sculpting
with yet more gazillions of shops each overflowing into the street
with the higgledy of the different houses
the shape of many of which i can imagine in pre-Dickens London, centuries ago
as the eye zigzags while the feet zagzig
in a random walk through the old and the ancient
the older and the ancienter
past serene Buddhas
and demonic Gods who will make a passing liar vomit blood
past monks and nuns in maroon
past football shirts and trekker gortex
on a mappy scribble of an extended amble through olde worlde fabulous
for i dunno how long
as i thought i’d leave by now
and head West to see a pal
in the heights above Sedi and Pokhara
yet its much to soon to leave this near endless splendour
where i have a hankering to live off quasi-Chinese street-ish food
and where i should really have a beer
for in Ladakh, India, which i just left
i spent much of June a whole 250 km from any beer
while here its on both corners at the end of the street
yet i haven’t got round to beer yet
and might not for a day or three
of more ambly randoming
up the 365 steps to the famous temple a kilometre West
over the bridge to another old royal capital, Patan
and round and round the lanes and alleys of this Old City once again
...
…
…
wonderful post
and hell yeah - paul thompson