Artists for Action

There’s something good, something real and revolutionary and anti-establishment about artists and creative people and those with a desire to effect change, getting together to discuss how to bring about a better life.

It’s inspiring and grassroots, and never fails to leave me thinking ‘Yes! This is what we’re here for!’

That’s how I felt Tuesday night, spilling out onto Gerrard Street East from the cozy Abrams Studio at Ryerson University, after experiencing Artists for Action, a night of performances and discussion all on the theme of social justice, with the proceeds going to PEDRRU, a Ugandan NGO.

My friend Kathy Lewis organized it along with Sarah Fregeau and Irene Whittaker-Cumming, and I give them props for doing so because it’s never easy to get a dozen or so creative, artsy types to meet deadlines and arrive on time, let alone organize a creative, eclectic night of performances that somehow works coherently.

She pulled it off though, and for that I salute her!

After a brief introduction by Kathy and Antonio Cayonne, the night started with an emotionally charged performance by spoken-word artist Araya Mengaesha.

Spoken-word is one of those mediums that can really flop or fly – and in the hands of this capable young artist, it flew.

I was carried away by his first piece, and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since. It personified rebellion, describing an observer’s journey into an underground gathering of revolutionaries, the emotions, the stocky, nondescript speaker who brought the crowd to a crescendo with his message of freedom, and finally the smash and crash as windows were shattered and tear gas filled the room and finally, as a club comes down on the observer’s neck and he’s rendered unconscious, having scribbled down only two words on his notepad …

And perhaps the brilliance of this piece is the ending -– we don’t find out what those two words are, and we’re left to imagine what, for us, they would have been.

Thank you Araya. The delivery itself was a thing of beauty – intense, impassioned, poetic and from somewhere deep inside. I wondered how he could keep the tears from his eyes as he poured this out in words, pounding his chest for emphasis.

It brought me back to one of the first major events I covered as a reporter – a massive Ontario Coalition Against Poverty rally in the downtown core of Toronto. I was a small town journalism student and rode into Toronto on a bus with a bunch of activists –- and I came filled with big ideals about objectivity and journalistic integrity and whatnot.

But there were times throughout the day that I, like the man in the piece, filling the role of an observer, a recorder of events, couldn’t keep my fist from slamming punches into the air along with the electric crowds around me, demanding something better for those who have the least.

I came home with a new perspective on what it means to be empathetic and objective and a new appreciation for those who face off with authorities to make their voices heard.

Yeah, Araya, you captured the organized mayhem that occurs.

But beyond the spoken word, the night boasted a host of talented performers. Antonio and Dan Chapman-Smith prompted us to think about what art really is and how it can affect us and the world around us as a force for change.

Irene Whittaker-Cumming’s "Asante Sana" took her experiences working at an orphanage in Kenya and turned them into a modern dance piece that conjured up images of destruction, sorrow, connection to the Earth, rebirth, passion, progress and joy that made me miss Africa so, so badly.

She performed with Miranda Forbes, Sarah Fregeau, and Andrea Lithgow – all of whom expertly avoided the massive beam located smack in the middle of the stage area until you almost forgot it was there.

Then "Stephanie Street," a grim, intense, and challenging (five?) act play about helping the homeless and our often wrong-headed approach to doing so gave me some sober second thought. It was performed excellently by Warren Bain, Stephanie Bye, Michael Iliadis, Araya Mengaesha and Claudia Yiu –despite some minor technical issues.

Aviva Zimmerman performed what I think was part of a piece she put together for the Fringe Festival, called "Huffing Lysol," that was an entertaining and thought-provoking look at mass media and advertising and how the images we’re bombarded with affect our brains.

Ellen Hurley’s "Tipping Point" monologue took a different approach to the social justice theme, speaking with the voice of a dying planet and an Amazon rainforest that is facing a crucial juncture – a grim, critical mass moment at which the total destruction of the forest, the “earth’s lungs” will soon be unavoidable unless drastic change takes place.

And finally Antonio rounded out the night with some spoken word of his own.

Perhaps the most memorable part though, was the discussion that followed – artists and audience discussing the ideas and arguments that were rendered on stage, challenging each other to make a difference and find that ephemeral means of making art make a difference.

In a way, we were living out that theme of revolution, rebellion and grass roots movement that kept coming up throughout the night – and we personified, I think, that room full of rebels fighting against a dark, unnamed enemy that Araya described so well in the opening performance.

In some small way, we made progress towards that better life.