Lessons Learned at Fringe TO.

Fringe Festivals!! Good GAAWD I love them so. Why are they so effin’ fun??? What makes them so awwwwwesome? What magic potion of coolness do they brew?

Thoughts: collect thyself.

Ahem.

I just awoke from a surreal four/five hours of sleep, after an overnight “escape” from TO. We left the beer tent at 11 o’clock pm to a crowd of weeping Fringe artists, tissue in one hand, plastic St. Ambroise cup in the other, wailing “Noooo, Indyish. Nooooooooo!” Yes, we were indeed the life of the Toronto Fringe. Pity they’ve seven more days without us.

The sun was beginning to rise as Tristan dropped Team Montreal off at our respective homes. After six hours of electrifying (literally/figuratively) lightning on the 401, I crawled into bed and thought about what a brilliant weekend it had been. As is the case with any trip or getaway, it’s always important to take stock of the lessons you have learned from afar, and to resolve how to integrate them into your regular routine.

So here I go. Two Important Lessons Learned from Fringe.

Lesson 1: Life is like Summer Camp.

I always say that the Fringe is like summer camp. Perhaps more so in Montreal because it’s simply a smaller festival, drawing more bona fide “indie” artists than in Toronto, where the theatre industry is just so much bigger. But this weekend in Toronto felt pretty darned campy. Life was so simple!! Wake up in the Annex apartment I stayed at. Walk to Beer Tent. Meet Friends. See Plays. Eat Food. Beer. Plays. Friends. Beer. Sleep. Good.

As artists, it is imperative that we keep clearing clutter from our lives constantly, all the time. A messy apartment’s a great excuse for not setting up an easel, or for not being able to write those first words. A cluttered mind prevents us from hearing our inner voices, and blocks those crucial, illuminating “Ahah” moments when an idea is born. That’s why summer camp is good. When you boil your life down to a simple, and for the most part, wholesome routine, your mind and heart are free to be what they want to me.

Beer/Friends/Plays/Food = Good. No clutter, no list making, no strenuous routine. I, who am programmed to awake at 8am on the dot come hell or high water, slept in til 10:30 the past two days. No clutter = awesome. I am taking the day off work today to sort through my endless boxes of clothes and books and make give-away piles. I will make room for an “Ahah.”

Lesson 2: The Most Important Thing in Life is to be a Likeable Person.

Heck, this very artist networking site - by definition - runs on the principle that Who You Know is key. When I was in theatre school, our teachers told us day in and day out: “Come to class on time. One day you’ll walk into an audition and see one of your classmates in the director’s chair. Your reputation starts today.” It’s so important to be a kind person - not just for the obvious karma/Mr. Rogers principles, but because fulfilling careers require help from others. Be liked by the right people, and they will happily do favours for you when you need it.

What about this weekend taught me this? Several things. First, I cleverly left my wallet in Montreal, so I was relying on the goodness of friends and strangers to see me through the weekend. Second, it was plain awesome to be in a city and at a festival with so many wonderful people, many of whom I’ve had the pleasure of working with, living with, studying with and creating with. It was great to take stock and say, “Wow, I am proud to know these people.”

But third, I began to see how Being Likeable is an imperative virtue of stage performers. I saw three comedy shows in two days, reviews of which are soon to follow. Two of the three left me feeling slightly uncomfortable, like the performers were kind of forgetting I was there. Like I was watching them play out an inside joke, and it was up to me to get in on it. The best, strongest and most packed show was the one that showed the greatest respect for the audience. I felt I was being played for, not at.

In the past month of Fringe-festivalling, I’ve sat through my share of great shows, but also my fair share pf audience-alienating performances. As artists of any kind, it’s important that we take our process very, very seriously. But it is just as important to remember that, in the end, this art is not for us. It’s for the sharing. You can tell when an actor respects his or her audience, when he/she plays for the audience rather than for his/herself. It’s the hardest thing to do, and the most important.

Stay tuned for reviews of “Worst Show Ever,” “Heart Job” and “Gibberish.”

Go Toronto Fringe. Go Indyish. Go everyone.