Couldn't be more down-to-earth

I worked at GCTC during what I’ll call its middle years. I worked under three artistic directors (there are five that have served to date in the building at 910 Gladstone) and two general managers. There was a steady stream of new faces within production, stage management, publicity, and support staff in the form of co-op students. Oddly enough, it was the artists that provided the most stable influence and emerged as a kind of “house” company.

If you think about it, the name, Great Canadian Theatre Company, sounds a bit pretentious. Yet, the company was anything but that. GCTC operated on a shoestring budget; employees were paid poorly and actors did not fare any better. We even put out an appeal one year for people to send in their Canadian Tire money. The theatre space was small, its lobby tiny, its office closet-like and the dressing room—was just that, a room.

Deficits often loomed large. It was the runaway box office success of the Wingfield plays and Rod Beattie’s generosity in continuing to perform in our small theatre when he could easily have moved the show to a larger, more lucrative venue. There was many a season where Wingfield kept us afloat. Fans returned so many times to see Rod that we endearingly called them Wing-nuts. Nor will I ever forget the staged reading of A. R. Gurney’s Love Letters performed by Rod Beattie and Martha Henry.

It was a time when tobacco companies could still openly support the arts. It was a time where we saw the audience grow; we took a few risks; we added to the average cast size; we produced a season of new works; we went after the Elgin Theatre space; we did more fundraising and fundraising events; we saw the art and actors mature. There were plays that worked like Target Audience and McLuhan: The Musical and several that did not. We had great fun with a remount of The Mystery of the Oak Island Treasure. At one show we distributed eye patches to everyone in the audience, and they wore them, young and old alike. Only Katherine Sandford, GCTC publicist, could come up with a concoction of swamp juice, delivering bottles of it to the local media to promote The Adventures of Emily Brontesaurus. After one performance of Show Me the Button I’ll Push It, the audience was invited to join Rick Mercer and Charles Lynch at the Prescott Tavern for pizza and beer. And I cannot forget a moonlit boat cruise on the Ottawa River with Fat Man Waving serenading us late into the night.

When it could the theatre offered its support to other companies like the Ottawa Shakespeare Festival, New Theatre of Ottawa and gave Barry Caplan, a.k.a. GATD, somewhat free reign over the stage to produce his Night Howl Series.

We had our bad moments and disappointments too. Plays were trashed by the critics (some deserved it, some didn’t); at times audiences stayed away; there was the Gulf war; there were layoffs in the public service; people that you did not want to see go left; and people that you wished would leave overstayed (I hope that I wasn’t one of them). Send your memories to Kate Wright at wricom@rogers.com.