海角社区官网

“Shelter” is an important slice of 海角社区官网history, a story that defines us and illustrates what Canada shares with the U.S.A., and what makes us very different, especially in the second Trump age. Timing be damned, this was about a principle. Us, them and, damn it all, we had been invited to come.

So, on a Saturday afternoon in April, I was staring out the window of a building on Fifth Avenue. The crowds came and went from the Metropolitan Museum of Art across the street. Behind me in the room were rows of empty chairs and I could hear two hushed voices talking intently.

The voices belonged to Richard Rose and Vivien Endicott-Douglas. Richard was directing a reading of “Shelter,” with Vivien playing the main character.

What sort of play is this? Well, I鈥檒l tell you this: an early version of “Shelter” was summed up by a dramatist in Ireland as, 鈥淎 story of love, lust, hunger and heartbreak.鈥� Me, I was getting worried because the matinee reading was to start at 1 p.m. and the chairs remained empty. We鈥檇 come to New York City to present two readings, with improbably bad timing, and now, was anyone even coming to our second reading?

What I didn鈥檛 know is that Richard had asked that the audience be kept in the lobby of the venue, the salon of the American Irish Historical Society, until five minutes before the scheduled start. He had notes for Vivien after the reading the previous night and was working all morning on making her utterly comfortable with some portions of the script. The audience finally entered and, 80 minutes later, the reading ended to fierce applause for what we鈥檇 all just witnessed: a wrenchingly physical performance by Vivien as Mary, the storyteller in “Shelter.” That reaction is what makes theatre worth doing.

Mind you, we had worried that the trip wasn鈥檛 worth the worry of crossing the border. The week we got our confirmed invitation was the week the trade and tariff wars started. Stories abounded of travellers to the U.S. being stopped, searched, detained and deported. We had a legit invitation and the Canadian Consulate in New York City had assured me earlier that we would be fine if we explained that we were showcasing the play. 鈥淣ormally, it鈥檚 smooth,鈥� the official said. But these are not normal times.

At our last rehearsal for “Shelter” before NYC, there was talk of bringing burner phones. Daniel Giverin, the musician who performs the role of Mary鈥檚 lost boyfriend in “Shelter,” announced he was taking the train. It might be easier. Also, he wouldn鈥檛 take his prized violin, in case it was seized. He鈥檇 rent one in NYC, and he did and it arrived without a bow. I stared out the window, until a bow appeared. Theatre and timing, you know.

Richard was concerned that his passport showed he was born in Venezuela. At Pearson, things did get strange for him. He told the U.S. Customs and Border Protection officer, 鈥淚鈥檓 going to showcase a play.鈥� The bewildered officer asked, 鈥淵ou鈥檙e going to New York City to show you can play?鈥� Richard tried to explain that no, he wasn鈥檛 going to play, but to direct a play. 鈥淲hat is ‘a play鈥欌��? the officer asked. Richard talked about Broadway shows, musicals and the like, and eventually was waved through. Sometimes I think he got the Order of Canada for his patience, not just his theatre-directing skills. Me, I said I was going to see some shows and meet some friends, not mentioning that one of the shows was written by me.

I鈥檝e known Richard for ages now. About 10 years before I left the Globe and Mail, I wrote my fist play and quietly submitted it to a few theatres. At Tarragon it landed with Richard, who was the artistic director. He said to me, 鈥淚 think this play鈥檚 a mess, but there鈥檚 definitely something there, so let鈥檚 work on it.” Patience, like I said. Now we were in a room in New York City, still working on something I鈥檇 written.

A man named Michael Mellamphy was in the audience at the matinee reading. He runs the off-Broadway Origin Theatre Company and he鈥檇 invited us to present Shelter at Origin鈥檚 1st Irish Theatre Festival. The long-running festival features Irish or Irish-inspired productions. This year it had 12 full productions and six readings, and it鈥檚 a bit of a big-deal off-Broadway every April. Mellamphy applauded with gusto and then asked me to step up and talk about “Shelter.”

What I said then, I鈥檒l say here. “Shelter” is a Canadian story, an Irish story and emphatically a 海角社区官网story. In 1847 海角社区官网was a snug city of 20,000 people. That year, between May and October, nearly twice the city鈥檚 population 鈥� 39,000 refugees 鈥� arrived here, fleeing the famine in Ireland. What happened is part of Toronto鈥檚 past, a human catastrophe that鈥檚 almost unimaginable. And what happened is acknowledged in Ireland Park on the waterfront, near Billy Bishop Airport, but not talked about much.

That鈥檚 a pity, but we鈥檙e experts at erasing the past in 海角社区官网and do it with ease. Ontario Place is gone from the waterfront, disappearing like the wharfs where those Irish famine refugees landed so long ago 鈥� that鈥檚 now the Metro 海角社区官网Convention Centre. But nobody can erase the fact that what happened in that famine year separates us, this city and this country, as a place where people respond to a crisis with compassion.

You see, 海角社区官网was somewhat prepared. The many thousands who arrived were weak, famished and some were sick with typhus. They weren鈥檛 turned away. The medical superintendent in the city in 1847, along with fellow doctors, nurses, orderlies and other caregivers, took care of these immigrants as best they could. Many who helped later died from the illnesses they tried to treat.

“Shelter” is the story of one arriving refugee: Mary, her life in Ireland, the start of the famine, the incident that propelled her to leave, the ship journey, her arrival here and a possible future for her. In Mary鈥檚 monologue she is consumed with longing for her boyfriend Michael, lost to her in the chaos of the famine. He appears to her as a spectral figure and when she talks to him he answers only with music.

In a single summer a vast torrent of outsiders arrived here, strange in their appearance, perplexing in their language, many speaking only the Irish language and others talking English clotted with Irish phrases. Uprooted from rural Ireland, they terrified some of the local population. But they were helped. They weren鈥檛 arrested, jailed, deported or sent back. The audience in New York City saw that, understood that and some wept. As it happened, the timing was perfect.