6 minute read
TOGETHER AGAIN
Jackie Maxwell, Artistic Director Emerita (2003-2016) and Eda Holmes, former Associate Artistic Director (2009-2017) are reunited at the Shaw Festival, directing The Playboy of the Western World and The Apple Cart, respectively. They graciously agreed to sit down and record a conversation for the magazine. As you read this, picture two old friends, reminiscing and catching up over a glass (or two!) of wine.
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EDA:
Here we go. It’s Jackie Maxwell and Eda Holmes for the magazine. The old partners in crime are together again for the first time since…
JACKIE:
It’s been quite a while. In March of 2020 I was here to direct Playboy. It was my first time back after having left as AD. And just about two weeks in, we got the call that there was this pandemic. At first, they said it wouldn't be long, so we just hung out in our apartments. As you know, that was not the case. Then we went on Zoom – I think we were some of the earliest ‘zoomers’ – but obviously it was not going to happen. I went home thinking, “I didn’t get to do that play, which I love, with people that I love, in a theatre that I love.” I was really, really sad. I’m thrilled that TC [Tim Carroll] decided to give Playboy another go. It’s funny, when I used to direct at The Shaw, my executive assistant, poor Janet Hanna, would be standing outside the rehearsal door waiting so she could give me the long list of things that needed to be discussed or dealt with or whatever. Now, of course, I just kind of…
EDA:
You go and bother Janet!
JACKIE:
Ha, ha! Can you imagine? No, I just skip happily out the door.
EDA:
It’s funny that you mention March 2020, because that was originally when we were both supposed to be back. I had just closed my theatre, Centaur Theatre. In Montreal, the public health mandate came down on the 13th and I had to shut down a very popular show. And when I came to The Shaw for my first day of rehearsal for The Devil’s Disciple , everybody had been told not to shake hands or spend too long in the building, which meant we didn’t do a read through. I did the design presentation by myself, then we went home and by the time we got home we weren’t allowed to leave our houses. That’s when we started the Zoom thing.
JACKIE:
And that’s when you and I started our daily walks on The Commons. We would walk and ask each other, “What do you think is going to happen now?” And of course…
EDA:
After two weeks, it was clear that nothing was going to happen, so I went back home.
JACKIE:
I was practically weeping in The Commons car park as you drove away.
EDA:
We rehearsed The Devil’s Disciple online for six weeks. Then it was over, and I thought, “That’s it.” But the next summer, TC said that they were going to do a season which I thought was crazy, but sure enough, The Shaw did a season. Just as I was coming to Niagara, things got worse again. I think TC and I were thinking along similar lines, because I was going to call him and say, “Can we do it in the yard? Can we do it in The Commons?” But instead, he asked, “Would you do it in the parking lot?” And my first response was, “How about the yard?” But we ended up with our crazy Devil’s Disciple in the parking lot.
JACKIE:
Which I loved – if any play could be done that way, that was it.
EDA:
Yes! We were able to have a rough and ready take on it – it is a story about a group of people in the wilderness after all – and it was so much fun. And because we’d done so much text work on Zoom for weeks the previous year, we just started. The pandemic was still at its height – we didn’t take off our masks until dress rehearsal and we had masks made to match people’s costumes in case we had to go that route. It was just wild. But we did it. Then I thought, “Well, that’s going to be my swan song at The Shaw.”
JACKIE:
But it wasn’t. In fact, it was so great when I heard – wait, I can’t remember when I heard that you were going to be here this season doing The Apple Cart.
EDA:
I can’t remember when I said I would do it! Because, in the meantime, I’ve been trying to run a theatre in Montreal. The brilliant thing for The Shaw was that insurance they had, which meant they came out of the pandemic in pretty good shape, but that’s very rare and certainly not the case at Centaur. I’ve cancelled more shows than I’ve put on in the last three years. I’m still cleaning up from the pandemic at this point, still struggling to bring the audiences back, which is the same for everybody. There is a big challenge in bringing back the artists and the arts workers too – so many people had to leave the business because of how long it took.
JACKIE:
This is interesting for me – you were running a theatre, and, of course, obviously TC was and many others. You were all “pedal to the metal” just to try to keep working. Now, if you weren’t running a theatre, if you were a freelance artist –as I now am – it was fascinating. Well, it was horrible in one sense because I had four projects that were planned that just disappeared. But for many, many people it was the start of a long period of just – being at home. You and I kept in close touch, and I’m thrilled that we have this second chance to work together at The Shaw. I mean, I’m sure TC wasn’t thinking, “I must make sure that Jackie and Eda…”
EDA:
The broads need to get back together again!
JACKIE:
Somebody was talking recently about Tom Stoppard and how complicated his stuff can be. And I had this vision that popped into my head of when you were doing Arcadia [2013].
I was working in my office and Martin Happer was walking up the stairs from the rehearsal hall, very slowly, with this incredible contorted, agonized look on his face. And I thought, “Oh my God, what happened in rehearsal?” So, I asked, and he said, “It’s the math. It’s really difficult.” But, of course, that was always happening with shows that you did. The plays were always so crazy and complicated.
EDA:
One of my clearest memories of working here, though, was when you offered me Floyd Collins [2004] and that show was so hard. I remember going out for a drink at The Angel Inn to talk about how it was going – back in the days when we drank Scotch – and I was panicking about how to make the transitions work. I remember you saying, “You just have to divert the eye – just make something happen in the corner while you do something that you don’t want people to watch.” It was the best advice I’ve ever gotten!
JACKIE:
Do you find that more of those memories come to mind as you wander about?
EDA:
I’ve run into so many people recently. You develop relationships after living here for so long. On the first day of rehearsal, Diane King – who is sponsoring our show – was there and also [Board members] Martha and Tom Hyde were there. Just to see people like that, it’s so heartwarming and it’s so inspiring to know that there are people – from both sides of the border – that care that much about this place.
JACKIE:
Yes! Michele Darling and Michael Eagen, sponsors for Playboy, also came to one of my rehearsals. And so did Elaine Triggs [Board member].
EDA:
I was thinking about that – seeing the names “Donald & Elaine Triggs” on the Production Centre – along with the words “Jackie Maxwell Studio Theatre.” How does it feel to have a theatre named after you?
JACKIE:
It’s beautiful and it’s very moving. It means a huge amount, because I love that space. I loved last season – going to see Gem of the Ocean and Everybody – such beautiful productions. It’s so exciting to see what’s happening in that space – with these plays, old and new – that are just poking the beast.
EDA:
I think Bernard Shaw’s influence on this theatre festival is why it is unlike any other, anywhere else in the world. This Festival has always been inspired by plays that ask a question that no one else would ask. And it’s been supported by people who are looking for those plays. That’s the brilliant thing about it.
JACKIE:
That’s one of the great things about doing Playboy now. I love that in 1907 at the Abbey Theatre, this play caused a riot. For a week and a half, the whole place went bonkers. If I thought I could direct a play that would cause a riot, I would be just thrilled. Doing these plays that somehow hit a nerve is what I have always loved about the Shaw Festival – and Shaw himself.