Dear Nassim Soleimanpour,

You do not know me, but I feel after tonight, I have seen a glimpse into you. I was one of 39 people. No – that number isn’t quite right – 43, plus you, who participated in White Rabbit Red Rabbit on the evening of January 25, 2013. It is the middle of winter here in Edmonton, Alberta, Canada – however today it was only just hovering below zero degrees Celsius. I didn’t even wear my coat outside when I took an afternoon break from work. The 43 of us – this includes the techs, actress, and audience – took part in the performance at C103, just off Whyte Avenue.

I wasn’t quite sure what to think before I came to the show. All I knew was that the actress would be handed an envelope, and inside would be your words. She would have to perform them in front of us. I had no idea if whether these words of a man unable to travel – from a country so different from our own – would be hostile, educational or perhaps something not to my liking. I never expected what I experienced.

This photo is of Jon Paterson and Beth Dart. Jon is the Stage Manager (he also is an actor and stilt walker) as you see here, he is holding the script, in the sealed envelope, moments before the play would begin. He also holds a vial. I will not spoil the contents of it for those who have not seen the play – but they should be warned that it is life or death.

As we sit, the actress, your voice for the evening – a 30-something year old woman with a British accent, Belinda Cornish, enters. She opens the envelope, and the evening truly begins. Over the next hour, I cannot fully comprehend the emotions she brings to the delivery. She visibly tears up, she laughs, she acts like a cheetah, who acts like an ostrich. She is a storyteller, she is you, she is herself. She is the bear, the white rabbit, the red rabbit. She delivers a performance that I can only imagine is one of the best your script has ever possibly seen. By the end of the evening, I cannot possibly imagine that this incredibly talented woman had never seen the script before. And believe me, I asked.

Brilliant. Moving. Intense. The words Cornish gives life cause us all to reflect. I was told that the actors who perform are not allowed to drive themselves home after the show, and I would completely agree with whomever made that decision.

Your play left me without a solid conclusion. White Rabbit Red Rabbit is not a show that you leave feeling warm and fuzzy with. It is a half hour long discussion on the car ride home. It is pausing in long, contemplative thought.

It is also seeing your friend on stage making a rabbit face.

There were light moments. There are portions of audience participation. But what I found the most brilliant and amazing about your play, was that even those of us who did not participate, did.

And perhaps that’s what you intended. Perhaps your freedom exists in every single audience member taking a bit of you home with them. Your story, your thoughts.

White Rabbit Red Rabbit plays twice more during the Canoe festival. I will strongly be encouraging people to attend the two shows. I honestly feel sad that they will not see Cornish’s performance, as it is one of my favourite performances I have ever seen. However, I hear the next two to perform it, will also do so wonderfully.

Knowing now, after the performance, that you do have your passport, you are able to travel, does not change anything. It does not change your voice from the past speaking to present-day us. It doesn’t change the lack of freedom you felt.

Seeing White Rabbit Red Rabbit is, in itself, a celebration of our freedom. Our freedom to make decisions, to go see plays like it, to speak freely, to let our ears hang out from under our hats – and not to fear crows.

Thank you, Nassim, for sharing this play with us. For writing when you got a chance, for risking your life to follow your passion. White Rabbit Red Rabbit was a memorable experience, a play unlike anything I have ever seen before and doubt I will again.

Humbly and gratefully, I thank you.

Brittney Le Blanc, Audience member 34.

About Brittney:

It’s not often that a somewhat random assortment of home movies and childhood tales could make for an engaging piece of theatre, but when mixed with a healthy dose of northern soul and equal parts pigeon that is exactly what you have with Northern Soul.

Northern Soul, (part of the 2013 Canoe Theatre Festival from Workshop West) is a journey with UK theatre artist Victoria Melody into her awkward musings and fact finding about two dying culture groups – pigeon fanciers and northern soul dancing. Through random tales, photographs, home movies, and intimate dialogs, Victoria weaves a tale of woe and wonderment.

Walking into the theatre I knew very little about Victoria, pigeons, or northern soul. Coming out I now know that:

• There is a pigeon hall of fame. • Northern soul dancing is best done with stretchy pants and baby powder. • Pigeons can play ping-pong and prefer Frank Sinatra.

Those are just the tip of this play’s iceberg.

On a scale of 1 to pigeon, Northern Soul was definitely Frankie Beverly and the Butlers.

After-Haiku: Awkward journeying Family, dance, music, life. Soul to the Pigeon.

About Mike:

Mike Hudema is a long time member of the Canadian progressive scene. He was part of a motley band of activists that took to the streets of Quebec City for the FTAA protests, slept on the steps of the legislature to protest rising tuition rates when he was President of the University of Alberta Students’ Union, and occupied Anne McLellan’s office to defeat Canada’s anti-terrorism legislation. In his spare time he used to co-host CJSR’s alternative news program Rise Up: Radio Free Edmonton and co-wrote books like the recently published “An Action a Day Keeps Global Capitalism Away”.

Walking into New City one hardly knows what to expect from two theatre artists from England and their play known simply as ‘A Western.’ The audience sits scattered throughout the dankly lit bar. On the stage sits a table and a bottle of ketchup. Next to the bar sits a small mountain bike. And with that the play begins.

The play is composed of a series of well-crafted vignettes. Each one taking the audience through the stereotyped scenes that comprise almost every western ever made. The audience is not immune to this romp but instead is an integral part of it. The play is shaped by their reaction and participation and by the end all shall have blood on their hands.

On a scale of one to John Wayne, A Western is a big YEEEEEEEEEEE-HAWWWW!

About Mike:

Mike Hudema is a long time member of the Canadian progressive scene. He was part of a motley band of activists that took to the streets of Quebec City for the FTAA protests, slept on the steps of the legislature to protest rising tuition rates when he was President of the University of Alberta Students’ Union, and occupied Anne McLellan’s office to defeat Canada’s anti-terrorism legislation. In his spare time he used to co-host CJSR’s alternative news program Rise Up: Radio Free Edmonton and co-wrote books like the recently published “An Action a Day Keeps Global Capitalism Away”.

Death can be hilarious, it just takes the right people to show you the comedy in it. This is where Tonk and Fozby, the two heroes in the hilarious clown show Vice Versa come in. The play is about this father and son duo are trying to come to terms with the loss of their wife and mother respectively. Throughout the show we are treated to all different sorts of coping mechanisms and ways to deal with finality. Whether it be through drink (a beer bong extravaganza), food (HOT DOGS!), romance (a dinner date with a blow up doll), music (Supertramp!) or sheer feats of strength (Sword fight!) we find Tonk and Fozby navigating all different sorts of emotions and finding many different ways to laugh in the face of death. Death is never easy, not by a long shot, but the people behind this hilarious work show us that at the very least it can be good for a laugh.

19 stars! Great work! Now beer bong me!

About Jon:

Little did I know, the simplicity of the set was entirely deceptive. As the show progressed, more and more elements of insanity joined the stage, not to mention the audience.

The form of the show was brilliant. It ended as it began, as they completed the difficult task they set out at the beginning of their journey and then both fell asleep. Their comedy style was intense! Like Shakespeare, their comedy scenes were immediately and cruelly followed by intense emotional moments of reflection, but the shifts were far more pronounced. They were often so immediate and blurred that you found yourself wanting to laugh at a mourning son and his widower father, unsure if you should feel guilty for doing so.

The language heartless buffoons spoke was a brilliant blend of English, Eastern European, I think some Scandinavian, and a little franglais for good measure. They are so good at speaking this gibberish that the audience is even able to learn some of the frequently-used words, and anticipate new words. Brilliant.

In an attempt to avoid the inevitable audience participation of a show run by 2 actors raised in a town of street performers (why isn’t it called busking here, anyway?), I sat back a couple rows and off to the side. It was in vain, because Fozby needed an opponent in the sword fight, and Tonk spotted me. It was a blast!

While I would have been happy to see the show without so much crude humour, it was a riot, and I’m glad I went. These are brilliant performers with lots of career ahead of them. They even announced the sequel, Vice Reversa, which is sure to be a great show. Watch for it at Nextfest and the Fringe. And if you see clowns as passé or irrelevant, you have obviously never seen a show like this. It boldly goes where no clown has gone before.

About Jerry: