The Virgin Courtesan gains MOMENTUM!

Good Lord, I have to be the worst blogger ever. I was just reading Ken Davenport’s wonderful producer’s blog, and he was talking about his daily offerings to his readers never going on vacation. Of course, the man has many many many people who read his blog religiously (including me), so I can understand his desire to keep us all happy… and he mentioned momentum being a great motivating factor. Momentum… that’s an amazing thing, folks.

So, just in case anyone is interested in knowing how things are going, here’s a little update! Things are going pretty well! We’ve got MOMENTUM going for us!

I have to tell you, our little team is just amazing. We’re all pulling rabbits out of hats, and everyone is getting along beautifully, and we all just want this workshop of “The Virgin Courtesan” to be such a good experience all around!

Tara Bissett and Lara Oundjian are producing on behalf of Music Theatre Montreal, and people, these ladies are wonderful. Tara and I have known each other for several years, so I knew that she was an on-the-ball kind of gal, but she impresses me more and more every day. Just as Ken Davenport explains that he has to stay on top of his business even while he’s on vacation, Tara also stayed on top of things from Brazil! And Lara, earlier, was skyping into production meetings from Europe and the States! They’re both excellent organizers, and pleasant delegators when not taking on particular tasks themselves. They know the power of momentum! And assisting these wonderful ladies is 17 year-old Apprentice Producer Adam Daniel, who has proven that his slender shoulders can actually bear a pretty heavy load! And the kid’s funny. I like funny.

Alexander Smith (Associate Director) and Andres MacLeod (Stage Manager) have also been invaluable. Both of these young men already bring a wealth of experience in Theatre and the Arts in general to the team. They’ve helped with scene breakdowns, cast lists, our promotional material, design concepts, and anything and everything that gets thrown at them. Both have keen instincts and generous spirits. They’re invaluable.

Melanie Michaud, you might know already because I’ve blogged about this woman already! Ah, she’s a treat in the best possible way! When presented with a very challenging budget, she dug in her heels and announced that she was going to find ways to make this show beautiful… for me. Just writing that now, well, it makes me feel great. She’s got so many ideas percolating in that creative genius brain of hers, and she’s constantly hunting for fabric and dreaming up options that will work for our piece. And while we know that “it’s just a workshop”, Melanie has frequently reminded me that we can’t know what impact this presentation will have. This presentation deserves our best work, she’s prepared to give it just that, and I’m so grateful for her amazing commitment.

Kevin John Saylor is our Dramaturge… and what a difficult task that is for anyone dealing directly with a writer! I like to think that I’m quite open to suggestion. I like to think that I easily embrace other’s ideas about my work… but imagine my reaction to Kevin’s suggestion that an earlier draft of the play should go in a significantly different direction! It changed characters! It changed motivations! It changed… everything! So while I didn’t argue (that much), I was prepared to dismiss the advice, stick with my original plot, and just hope he’d be content to help me edit the text at a later date. But Kevin communicated his ideas so gently, so soundly, and with so much kind support, that they haunted me for many days. He never brought up that work session again until I did… and that was to admit that he was sooo right. The current plot is ten times more straightforward than what I had originally conceived. And then came the editing… and there will be so much more editing to come. But again, to Kev’s credit, when I’ve tried to aggressively red-pencil the script, he’s gently told me to hold off until the workshop… to hear how it plays in the mouths of actors. Kev’s work is far from done!

And brand new to our Creative Team is Guylaine Martel, who is a top representative and Hair Artist for L'Oréal Professionnel Canada. Her award-winning international career is staggeringly impressive, and we’d ordinarily never dream of asking anyone of her calibre to donate their time to our modest project… but you know what? She’s family! Guylaine is composer Blair Thomson’s wonderful sister-in-law, and she’s been in our cheering section for some time now already.

And then there’s Blair’s lady, Sylvie-Anne Martel, whose love has informed every beautiful note our composer has put on the page. As a television producer, Sylvie-Anne’s insight and regular morale-boosts have certainly helped to keep us focussed and believing in ourselves.

There are other folks who have and are contributing to the momentum of our fast approaching workshop. I thank everyone who’s given us a pat on the back, a word of advice, a monetary contribution, or even just told us that they like what we’re doing. At this point, Blair and I are coming to understand that it’s the people outside of us who will make this project live.

Finally, the most important part of our endeavour at this point… the story-tellers. Our cast of actors will inhabit these characters; they will breathe life into dialogue and music that is otherwise cold on the page. And it’s a donation of time and talent that is priceless to us.

We’re blessed! –and we have momentum! September 22^nd, we hope to see you!

The Glass is Always at Least Half Full

I recently had an audition, which has become an event for me because I so seldom seem to get auditions. I don’t what it is, exactly, that seems to be holding me in this suspended forgotten state as a performer. Call it strange karma, a cyclical dip in my career, or just plain bad luck… but for someone who defines himself as an Artist, specifically as an Actor, this professional lull is sometimes hard to cope with.

So I had this audition for a television thing, and I went to the casting agency about a quarter of an hour ahead of my appointment. And, of course, the agency was running over an hour behind schedule… so I waited.

I was acquainted with a couple of the actors in the reception area. They were very nice men, with remarkably successful careers, who chatted breezily about being busy. One of them said, without boastful intent, that he was so booked with acting work that he was afraid of becoming jaded. He was now being more selective with what auditions he went to, and told us that he occasionally just drops off the grid for a week at a time, to re-charge his batteries, remind himself why he’s an actor, and re-align his goals. The other actor I knew is an especially kind man, who was being very entertaining and charming as he welcomed a newly arrived actor from the Southern States. He introduced this woman around the room, spoke glowingly of Montreal, and assured her that she’d thrive in her new city.

I chatted a little. I smiled the whole while. But with every long minute that crept by, with every optimistic word that passed anyone’s lips, with every reference to the variety of projects they were all involved in, I felt myself melt away, like something inside of me was being diminished. I felt a wave of panic wash over me. I couldn’t stop my mind from racing with doubts. I wanted to leave, but I also desperately wanted to let this agency know that the man they’ve long overlooked is a real actor, a good actor. -But if that was the case, why was my reality so different from the other men in the room, I wondered.

Finally, it was my turn to audition, and all I felt was dread. The lines that I knew quite perfectly before coming to the agency were now only sketchy, and I delivered them poorly. The casting associate running the session was kind enough to give me another take, remarking that I seemed distracted. So I tried to infuse the few lines with more energy and authority, and she was kind enough to notice the difference. But she asked me if I was sad. Of course, I denied the hot stew of feelings and thoughts that were, indeed, distracting and making me sad. No, I'm fine, really, I lied… and I apologized for being less than perfectly prepared for the audition. Again, kindly, the casting associate assured me that I’d done well.

For the remainder of the day, I resigned myself to my deep funk. Sometimes you just can’t or shouldn’t bother to fight sadness, as long as you do not allow it to completely overtake your heart and mind. Depression seems to smother the soul, so experience has taught me that it’s best to work on something fulfilling after one’s wallowed in a sulk for awhile. And, of course, it’s so important to count one’s blessings. With a little bit of perspective on any given circumstances, one can usually see that the glass of life is at least half-full. Mine certainly is.

I’ve had a remarkable career, albeit almost exclusively in the world of Musical Theatre. I’ve travelled the country and a good part of the world in some magnificent productions, often in leading roles. I have bowed before thousands of people at a time, and signed innumerable autographs… I’ve been on Mount Olympus more than once, optimistically hoping that I could hold on to some rocky patch of the sunny summit. But I’m just not so lucky, so I tumble down the side of that mythic mountain, pick myself up, dust myself off, and try to plan my next climb.

Back in the late 90s when Daniel Boulerice and I were working on our musical “AutoPortrait”, I imagined that I was moving into a new phase of my career. At that time, people still spoke of my role as Marius in “Les Miserables”, and while I was always flattered, I wanted them to know that there was much more to me than that one wonderful show. I imagined that I would be re-defined as the book-writer and lyricist of a beautiful new Canadian Musical. And so, funded in part by American patron-of-the-Arts Mr. Andrew Burroughs, the National Arts Centre of Canada commissioned our show. “AutoPortrait” (about the loves and art of Deco painter Tamara de Lempicka) was given a wonderful workshop treatment, featuring some of this country’s very finest Musical Theatre performers. I dare say I think we came close to being produced, but it was not meant to be. After several years of working on “AutoPortrait”, the disappointment of so near a miss, and the subsequent frustration of not finding a new producer for our work left me less-than-enthusiastic about endeavouring to write another mainstream, adult show for quite some time.

I didn’t stop writing, though. I was fortunate to write several children’s shows for the Turtle Island Theatre Company in Kahnawake, Quebec. And while my lines were seldom delivered as written by the young actors on stage, I was being produced, and that is a wonderful feeling. That basic validation is why any playwright puts pen to paper.

Then, I met Blair Thomson. He was musical directing a workshop of a new musical I was hired to be in, in which I played a German demolitions expert during World War II. One day, after being given a written note by the lyricist on how to properly pronounce “River Seine” (which he was attempting to couple with “grand design”), in mock exasperation I said that the man should look for a better rhyme rather than critique an actor for trying to make his poor lyric work. Blair laughed out loud and declared, then and there, that he would, one day, write a show with me. The rest, you might say, is history.

So now we have “The Virgin Courtesan”, and I wonder if this is going to be a turn in the road for me. After I rise up out of the cloud of feared failure and self-doubt, my absolute dread of mediocrity, I then take stock of who I am.

I’m Frayne McCarthy, who had a lousy audition, but who is a good actor in spite of it, a good singer, and part of the writing team creating another exciting new Canadian Musical. I’m surrounded by wonderfully gifted Creative Team members, and we’ve got a great cast to bring our work to life.

My past credits, my days spent on Mount Olympus as an actor, are fine accomplishments, but they are in my past. My present, though, is actually pretty great because it involves this exciting phase of shared creativity. And a work of Art survives the Artist. I hope I will become known as Frayne McCarthy who co-wrote beautiful musicals. My glass is overflowing.

Just Enjoy

I got a call from my friend Melanie Michaud yesterday.

Mel’s a wonderful designer I’ve come to know through our work on Persephone Production’s “Far From the Madding Crowd”. I played William Boldwood in that great play and Melanie costumed everyone with brilliant skill, to beautiful effect, and on a tiny budget that most designers would find impossible to manage. But Melanie is a rare and wonderful person who always goes the extra mile (and then some), so she borrowed clothes from several sources, and the most beautiful dresses were carefully hand-sewn original pieces. Melanie is an Artist in her field.

We became good friends during the run of the show, and I was so flattered to learn that teenaged Melanie had a crush on my Marius in “Les Miserables” so many years ago. She watched my significant transition from young romantic leading man to much older romantic madman, and noted, with a smile, that she could still see a hint of Marius on stage. And as I prepared to audition for the role of Javert in the upcoming revival of “Les Miserables” in Toronto, she listened to me sing “Stars” and “The Suicide” over and over, and always offered encouraging compliments. We were both huge fans of that great musical and of musical theatre in general, and on this basis our friendship was solidified.

When Mel found out I was fortunate enough to be associated with Music Theatre Montreal, and that a workshop of my own show, “The Virgin Courtesan”, written with composer Blair Thomson, would be coming up in the fall, she emphatically told me that she wanted to be involved. At that time, though, I told her that I didn’t imagine we’d need a designer. But Melanie is persuasive, and so wonderfully enthusiastic, and after a couple of mini-pitches she won me over completely to seeing the difference a unified visual presentation could make on the workshop.

Melanie was volunteering her time, her talent, her Art, to help make her friend’s show the best it could be. And she told me that she could work miracles with the cheapest cloth. I already knew that. So I pitched Mel’s participation as part of the Creative Team to the producers at Music Theatre Montreal, and I was so glad when they agreed to work some modest design costs into the budget of the workshop. They’re pleased to have Melanie aboard too.

So Melanie called me yesterday. Her slate is clean for a little while, and she’s ready to start working on “The Virgin Courtesan”. We agreed to have a little creative meeting on Thursday, to toss around a few ideas. Again, I thanked her for her participation, and she reminded me that it’s worthwhile to her that the presentation looks as beautiful as it can. “You never know what can happen with this show”, she said, and I could hear the smile in her voice.

It reminded me of my other musical love-child, “AutoPortrait” which was commissioned and workshopped by the National Arts Centre of Canada. With a cast of 20 of Canada’s best musical theatre performers, the workshop was thrilling. I finally saw that the show, which I wrote with composer Daniel Boulerice, worked well on stage. The non-linear story-telling, the multi-generational actor changes, the music all worked beautifully in front of an audience… and I was so sure that a full N.A.C. production was the next logical step. But, as effusively complimentary as the powers-that-be were at the time, a production of our show just wasn’t in the cards…due to Federal Budget concerns, you understand.

We shopped “AutoPortrait” around as much as we could, but a new musical by an unknown Canadian writing team just wasn’t getting anyone’s attention. That wonderful show is collecting dust on a shelf.

“You’re right, Mel. It should be beautiful. This could be the only time we ever see it on its feet!” I said with glass-half-empty realization.

But that wasn’t at all what Melanie meant though, and I knew it, and so we happily talked about how this workshop, with its fantastic cast of dedicated performers, could be the discovery of an exciting new show. My glass refilled with enthusiasm. “You never know what can happen with this show”, means that the stars often do align, and the right people can be sitting in the house. A professional producer might fall in love with our “Virgin Courtesan” and court her favour!

“Whatever happens, just enjoy” Melanie said, and again I could hear the assuring smile in her voice.

“That should be the motto for our workshop: Just Enjoy” I replied.

With wonderful people like Melanie on our Creative Team, I’m already enjoying myself.

Being Catholic

I was visiting my parents’ cottage this past weekend, and on Sunday we went to the little country church where my folks were married. We were asked to prepare music for the liturgy, as it was a special occasion; the annual Church Picnic, so we did. It was nice.

It’s always a strange little homecoming experience for me to sing at mass. I enjoy making music with my family on these occasions… and I appreciate that we are offering our gifts sincerely. I love the expression that to sing is to pray twice.

It might come as no great surprise to you that I was raised a good Catholic boy. I went to a horrible Catholic high school because it was Catholic. I was a music minister in my church. I even considered the priesthood at one point. But then, I just seemed to turn a corner, and my personal perspective on the religion I was raised in changed. Suddenly, it all seemed controlled, fabricated… insincere.

I was a Catholic, so I was discouraged from becoming a third-world music missionary with a multi-denominational evangelical group. I was a Catholic, and I had to respect the sacraments, so I could not pay to marry a nice Irish girl so I could get work papers for performance opportunities in London. I was a Catholic, and so I had to keep secrets, and hide or deny my personal relationships. I was a Catholic, and so I was meant to trust an ancient, flawed, and often famously corrupt institution’s dictates on my morals and politics. I just couldn’t keep the blinders on anymore, so to the chagrin of my parents, I became a “Lapsed Catholic”.

I still enjoy the spiritual communion of people in Church, though; I still appreciate prayer; and I will always love tradition… so I don’t mind that I went to Church on Sunday. But once again, I was reminded of why I could never fully accept the silliness of my denomination. They are now wringing out the joy from the music ministry.

The one great benefit I gained from my church upbringing was the confidence it gave me to explore my musical abilities. I became a singer because of my church. And I also became a songwriter because of my church. I always loved when our modest little choir took on a new song because, back then, the music for the liturgy was my pop music. I was familiar with many of the writers contributing to my little repertoire of songs I learned to play on my guitar. Inspired, I wrote my own liturgy-based songs for special occasions, and it was encouraged. But now, all that has changed.

Music ministry in the Catholic Church is being controlled and strangled with an iron fist. Appropriate songs are strictly dictated, and original music is not permitted. The mucky-mucks who wear the tall hats and kissable rings have determined that only three composers’ music will be permitted for use in singing the parts of the mass… and those three composers are not particularly musically gifted. The new dictates are to be upheld by liturgy committees and pin-heads who know nothing about music being a spiritual gift. As a result, some long-time church musicians have quit their choirs… and I applaud their conviction to leave the official squashing of their gifts behind.

So there I was on Sunday… and I didn’t like or want to learn this ugly new mess of notes that was being imposed. And, bottom line, we didn’t have time to learn it. We certainly couldn’t throw in any gentle harmonies that give this kind of work it’s most prayerful feel. So, thankfully, my parents agreed that we should be musical rebels, and we took out some of our “golden oldies”, and we sang these short, tuneful melodies for what may well be a final time in Church. -And then we went back to the cottage, where I taught my parents a new song I wrote for their next mass. While I can be certain no obedient Catholic choir director would dream of touching my musical take on any psalm, I know that my mother will certainly be a rebel once more, and sing it in their little country church that is just grateful for music during the liturgy at all. Whatever works, right?

But, what does this have to do with “The Virgin Courtesan”, you might be wondering. Well, honestly nothing and everything. The Catholic Church of the Renaissance era in Venice figures prominently in the script. Actually, the Church is practically a character in itself, so it warranted research. I discovered that very little of this religion has changed in hundreds of years. The role of women in the Church, especially, is still marginalized to the point of near-insignificance. This is a pivotal point in my story of a young woman’s journey towards self-discovery in a society that is as Church-mad as they are sensually decadent. So much of the past still resonates, that this script has a very contemporary feel to it that I hope will give some people pause to consider the present sad state of the Church.

While my composer partner was sometimes worried that I was writing a polemic about the Catholic Church, the fact that I can imbue our central characters with truth gained from my own experiences is, well… that’s not courting controversy, that’s just writing! If “The Virgin Courtesan” winds up being at all controversial, I say okay! After all, we’re trying to push buttons with our title in the first place!

Finally, as I was leaving the church, passing through the sacristy, the priest, whom I have known since I was a kid, asked me what I was up to these days. I told him I was working on a workshop production of a new show I’ve written entitled “The Virgin Courtesan”. He paused, considering his reply. “Well, I like the Virgin part” he answered.

Offers Made, Replies Coming In

Tara Bissett is the producer in charge of Development for Music Theatre Montreal. It is her job to contact the great folks who came to audition for us, and let them know, either way, if we are offering them to participate in the workshop of "The Virgin Courtesan". The actors' replies are now coming in.

The task of whittling down candidates was tough. First we considered how we imagined everyone being used appropriately in the show. Then, we had to eliminate anyone who had significant conflicts during the rehearsal period. We considered vocal quality; looked at presence and interpretation during the cold read; we remembered smiles; we read the resumes, and eventually, after meetings and phone calls, and careful deliberation, we chose our company!

So far, we've received many happy emails from actors who, like us, are ready to take on the challenge of bringing a new piece of Musical Theatre to life on stage.

I'm so pleased. Those two weeks together are going to be all about getting to know fictional characters who've existed only on the page, and occasionally been given wonderful breath in the recording studio as our demos were being recorded. During this intense period, I will be learning from actors I've helped choose for the workshop. Our rehearsal space will be Venice, it will be Rome, and it will be our classroom. I'm ready to learn.

Workshop Cast Almost Final

We had two wonderful days of auditions. I was so impressed, inspired, and grateful for everyone's time and talent. The producers should be contacting everyone on Wednesday with our casting decisions. Thank you, everyone, for already giving so much of your support to this workshop of "The Virgin Courtesan". Those two days were a gift.

A New Workshop, Auditions Today!

It's been quite a long while since I looked at this blog site, and now I must inform anyone interested, that much has changed since my last post! Blair and I dusted ourselves off from our previous bout with a producer, and continued to work on our show. We recorded some new demos, and I continued to work on the script with Kevin Saylor, my dramaturge. We've remained optimistic, and Blair loves to tell me how clearly he sees our show being produced on a New York City stage, or in the West End of London. He keeps me dreaming big too. And through it all, we keep reminding ourselves that we need to get our show out into the world somehow.

The perfect first step, I've always believed, is to workshop a piece before attempting to sell it as a production. A workshop is a great opportunity for exploration and development for the writers. And having been a part of several workshops of other people's shows, and one previous workshop of my own work (AutoPortrait, written with Daniel Boulerice), I see the necessity and the benefit of the process. Also, having experienced the process with other writers' work, I've always observed and noted how they received creative information from their casts and creative teams. Some writers have resisted, even rejected the ideas and advice of others. Some have been wise enough to be attentive to the information coming their way. That is how I wish to proceed. I will be attentive, I will consider, and if an idea is good... well, heck, I'm gonna take it!

Anyway, I'm so pleased that a wonderful young company has taken an interest in developing "The Virgin Courtesan" in workshop form. Music Theatre Montreal has taken on the project as part of their educational mandate. Blair and I couldn't be more pleased as we prepare to meet candidates for our new 2012 Workshop cast today and tomorrow!

I will try to remind myself to update this Blog from time to time... if only to document the adventure for the sake of posterity! Wish us good fortune, please!

Frayne