Interview with Alun Hibbert


Alun Hibbert is a playwright and screenwriter. Former President of Playwrights' Workshop Montréal and Chairman of Playwrights' Union of Canada, he is well known for his plays which include October Soldiers, Playing the Fool, and Majority of Two. At present, Alun is cogitating somewhere off the west coast of Canada.

Alun spoke with Susannah Schmidt by phone in May 1998.

What was your role as dramaturg in facilitating the development of Dry Lips Oughta Move To Kapuskasing?

I wasn't involved in planning the workshop at all. I received a phone call from Michael [Springate, former Artistic Director of Playwrights' Workshop] the day before asking if I could sit in as a dramaturg. I was surprised, because for starters I'm not a dramaturg. I'd done bits and pieces with my own work and friends who are writers, but not in any kind of professional capacity by any means. But he said we've got this thing happening, and I got the script and read it, and quite enjoyed it. I came in the morning of the workshop knowing basically nothing except having read the script . . . and it was strange. I had been called out of the blue, and then during the week there was also the feeling that the workshop had sort of vacated; usually there were, you know, tons of people dropping by, coming in and out, and it seemed like people had cleared out.

But anyways, in terms of the week itself, if you know Tomson, he's quite delightful. So the week for that reason was wonderful: really, all the actors he brought were a delight to work with. I sat down with Tomson and Larry and they asked me, what do you see that you can do here. I said I had no prior planning, but would give whatever kind of artistic support they needed. Especially when I was president of Playwrights', I thought that the process should really be geared around what the writer required. So I turned to Larry and Tomson and said, what do you want to do? Mostly it seemed he wanted to hear it out loud, so that was what happened...

The rest of the artists in the workshop had been gathered by the writer, but you were hired by Playwrights' Workshop. Was it awkward or fruitful to be a dramaturg who was disconnected to the larger process?

Well, Tomson was very much with his own crew. He and [director] Larry Lewis were running the show, there was no doubt about that. Of course if you know Tomson, he's very gracious. Still I remember feeling at times non-invited. Larry was very much in control of the process. Tomson was the boss man, and they were obviously tight. At times I did feel that there were things that were being ignored, like this or that isn't developed. But it's hard to say things when the other people are so much closer to it. So during the process itself it was tough to get words in. But I took Larry aside and gave him six or seven pages, like this has gotta be fixed, this might be addressed. It was all sort of casual, and he responded well.

There was [also] a cultural tension at times. As I said, really, I'm not sure why I was called in, even artistically I mean. I wasn't a dramaturg, so in retrospect I think it was some politically sensitive reason... I grew up partly in north eastern B.C., effectively on a reserve. I don't know if anybody knew that, but it seems to be one of the only plausible reasons [I was asked to dramaturg]...

Tomson was insistent that the parts be played by Natives. He came in with a wonderful cast of professionals, but as with a lot of workshops, there were still some parts to cast in Montréal, and there were a limited number of First Nations actors who participated in the workshop who had never acted before. We could have filled in with more experienced actors, but quite rightly Tomson felt he wanted native people. Some of these readers were found at the Native Friendship Centre, but they weren't actors and that really did lead to some problems during the week. We could have brought in any number of capable trained people, but he was insistent. So that was tough, until Graham Greene gave a stern lecture about committing to do things...

At any rate, when tensions occurred they were maybe particularly acute because I was the only non-native. One guy who'd been brought in here [in Montréal from the Native Friendship Centre] asked me at one point whether I'd ever been a cop, which was funny because I'd served in the military. You know, so here I am, 6'1", clean shaven, this ultimate white guy. But towards the end [he was] joking with me and saying, you're an Indian kind of guy.

On a philosophical level, to see that [Tomson] was willing to take a sub-par professional actor in order to teach, in order to get that contribution of other native people . . . that was something. Tomson was very committed to his community, so he'd take a lesser performance and come out richer on the pedagogical level. So the different levels of skill were something else. You had Academy Award winners working with guys who seemed to have been in Montréal a week, who were struggling to read. Talk about culture shock for them.

How did the play change over the course of the week?

When I go into a workshop with a play, usually I just want it heard, but it's quite finished. Tomson was much more free, he'd write ten pages a day. In the mornings he'd already be at the computer churning out masses of material. [...] about bringing up anger that started to come up about the residential system, and the Church, Christianity. That was one significant development, more of an emotional, stronger tone. At the outset it was more just out and out comedy. It was a relatively early exploratory script. He had a couple of epiphanies during the week and he went more deeply into grittier issues like residential school abuses.

I don't think I did any damage. As I say, Tomson was just cooking, no doubt about that. I'd worked with Graeme before, and that was a real treat, he's just a brick. He was just solid as rock, so useful and full of contribution.

Did you do a final reading at the end of the week?

We went to Kahnawake and it was sort of last minute, so it was very disappointing. There were 4 or 5 people from the community there -- they had only heard about it that day I think. But the presentation went fairly well. Tomson seemed to really be into the improvisational nature of things, [...] throwing in music, and the piece was suddenly funky.

[Some people] attended from Playwrights'. Afterwards, driving back, [there was] a fair bit of criticism about where the piece had gone, [saying that] it was still way too sloppy for even a first draft, so they were directing these questions at me as dramaturg, like, "what the hell's going on here." I was angry [about that]. I felt I'd put my ideas and questions forth, and I didn't feel it was my place as dramaturg to go about dictating the direction. And knowing the factors [of working with professional and amateur readers] that's also why I got so angry. People didn't seem to realise the bigger context going on.