The show must go on – But how?

Sitting with a group of elder(ly) actors the other day was eye-opening for me. The workshop­—part of Summerland’s amazing little Ryga Arts Festival—titled “Aging in the Arts” sought to brainstorm ways to assist and mitigate issues for actors and others in their older years. To a person, participants have been active in the craft or profession of live theatre for many years. Many are still active in amateur pursuits, including our local Singers and Players troupe, though their physical and intellectual abilities are not as powerful as they once were.

A chief complaint concerns memory. After [insert age here] it’s harder to take in and perform with accuracy large amounts of text. Sure, you could just make things up on the fly, but this disrespects the playwright (and can get you in a lot of trouble) and will likely anger the director, let alone other cast members. I remember my earlier performances as an organist, where I could play an entire recital from memory; now I can barely master “Let’s go Blue Jays” without assistance.

Then there are the physical demands required. A friend of our family, Charlie Ross has made a career through one-person renditions of “Star Wars” and “The Lord of the Rings.” His performances require him to discreetly wear padding to cushion the impact from literally throwing himself around the stage, night after night, one performance after another. I guarantee, he will not be doing these shows at 70.

During our workshop, I was fascinated to learn how some production companies have adapted their systems to accommodate memory challenges, in one case by projecting text on a wall or ceiling. (Gone are the days of calling out from a prompter’s pit just below the footlights.) Other companies serve the needs of actors with specific needs, those on an Autism or Neurodivergent scale for instance. I am aware of companies which work specifically with Downes Syndrome actors. I am sure there are also blind and hearing-challenged companies working somewhere. This is all good news.

Here in Summerland, I have found my way (providing instrumental music) into a local group who present Christmas shows. Last year, “It’s a Wonderful Life” and this year, “A Christmas Carol.” Next year, “A Space-X Christmas?” These are performances of a radio performance of each show; and they are presented with scripts in hand, held discreetly, with no need for total memorization though close familiarization is essential for a smooth delivery.

It was interested to learn that the Canada Council for the Arts (our national arts funding body) will not consider productions where performers have scripts in hand. It’s like Morse Code; you must use morse for a year prior to gaining your HAM Radio license. One is prerequisite to the other. It seems the same is true for funding of stage productions. Memory makes you eligible. On the one hand, I get it; serious players only welcome. On the other hand, it’s all rather exclusive in a cultural age which pretends to desire and embody inclusivity.

As I learned the challenges in accommodating the needs of elder actors, as I discovered ways that the show can indeed go on despite obstacles, I noticed how my own world, of constantly accommodating for my own needs given lifelong legal blindness and now increasing hearing loss, has become the world of these elder actors.

As the session began, we were each handed a sheet of paper with ten responses to a query: “Ten challenges that aging performance artists face.” The sheet is here if you are interested. What caught my attention is that the list was generated with ChatGPT. I thought, what? You needed AI to generate your list? C’mon folks, work a bit harder. Upon reflection however, accommodation benefits from technical innovation. This has been the story of my life, almost since birth. Go figure; go ChatGPT.

A highlight for me on during Saturday’s “Theatre Trail” (Such a brilliant idea) was a production—about a production—presented by four talented youth titled “Tidepools.” Each teen had their own stuff to sort out in the community of a school theatre production. Their performance was tight, edgy, fast-paced, lively, audible, and very insightful. I found myself wondering, what will these actors produce once they hit my age (66). For these young actors, that’s a long way off for sure. They are not where I am now; but I was once where they are. A world of difference separates us, and yet theatre remains the same, yesterday, today, and likely tomorrow. People creating and presenting stories, in public, expressed through their own story. It was always thus, and always will be.