In the summer of 2003, I took a three-week course in Stratford. Okay, technically I took TWO three-week courses. Every morning, I’d wake up in my non-air-conditioned room at the Stratford General Hospital’s nurses’ residence and walk across town to a small studio space behind the Avon Theatre. There, three of Stratford’s top acting coaches taught me the rhythm of the iambic pentameter, the realignment of the Alexander Technique and the art of embracing Shakespearean performance. I was in heaven.
Every afternoon, I’d hike to a not-that-nearby high school where a Shakespeare scholar challenged us to dive into the texts and critique that season’s productions.
My evenings were spent watching plays and stalking actors. It was life as it ought to be lived. (And I still believe that that particular season was a stand-out, with unforgettable productions of Taming of the Shrew, Pericles and Love’s Labour’s Lost. Troilus and Cressida I could have done without. Ugh. I also accidentally left the actor who played Troilus with my bar tab. Oops.)
I made a friend that summer. Someone who “got it” the way I did and who fully embraced a Stratford addiction. We went this week, our eighth year in a row. I joke that our seventh anniversary marked the longest relationship I’ve ever had.
How to Do Stratford Like Nadine and Jen
We have traditions. Hot spots. Non-negotiables. Here’s how to hit up the town like a couple of almost-old ladies.
Cheap Lodgings
There are only two options for gals like us: The Albert St. Inn (last year) and the Stratford General Hospital residence (this year). Both offer double rooms in the $70-$100 range. Neither have air-conditioning. The Inn has a private washroom attached to your room. The residence has free breakfast (in the hospital cafeteria) and free parking.
Cheap Tickets
It you’re under 30, you can get A-level seats for $20 on select performances. Or, if you magically get signed up to a mysterious mailing list as I did, you might receive special offers. We saw Peter Pan for $13.50 each.
Pazzo
Red wine and fancy pizza (this time: arugula, artichokes, roasted red pepper) in Pazzo’s downstairs pizzeria. I eat there once a year.
Down the Street
This is my favorite bar. In the entire world. When I was 19, I’d order Shirley Temples and garlic fries. Now I order red wine and garlic fries. Or coffee and garlic fries. Or Diet Coke and garlic fries. Essentially, I can’t function in Stratford without garlic fries. Also on the must-eat list: bruschetta. I know it’s no longer on the menu. That doesn’t matter. I still order it and they still give it to me. It’s with goat’s cheese and fresh salsa and is blessed by the culinary gods. Irresistible. (The flourless chocolate cake with pistachio ice cream is also a super-safe and super-indulgent option.)
P.S. If you sit near the back, you can watch people walk in. Famous people. Or not-very-famous-but-still-very-talented people.
Rheo Thompson
Best. Chocolates. Ever. I can’t even talk about it.
If You Have Time….
Scoopers for ice cream. Balzac’s for coffee. Bookstore-browsing. House-daydreaming. (Go for a walk and pick your dream house. I want them all.) Move-to-Stratford-plotting. Features for breakfast. Tango for lunch. Toy-shopping. Walks along the river. Swan-cursing.
YOU (Interrupting me): Uh, Nadine, what about the shows?
ME: Oh, yeah.
Peter Pan
So kid-friendly that I seriously considered kidnapping a kindergartener and then seeing it again. It’s lively and magical and uncomfortably bittersweet. One little theatre-goer wore fairy wings to the show. I envied her.
The closing image is of Peter Pan at Wendy’s window. The rest of the set breaks away, and there he stays, floating in a midnight sky behind the window’s bars. J.M. Barrie stands in the moonlight beneath him, haunted by his own story. The author’s personal tragedy of maternal abandonment could not be redeemed by fictional boyhood exploits.
The actress who played little Michael was a marvel. Oh, my. I wanted to hug her and squeeze her.
Two Gentlemen of Verona
Probably the best Shakespearean play I’ve seen at the festival in years. Slapstick touches in this Vaudevillian-influenced production had me howling with laughter. I knew nothing about this play going in, and now I’m itching to read it, curled up in a two-hour me-and-the-bard huddle. It’s considered Shakespeare’s first play. Probably. Fewest words, fewest cast members. The plot moves along at record pace. Um, and there’s a dog. He has an understudy. There are song-and-dance numbers. A silent film reel. Happiness.
In conclusion, GO TO STRATFORD.
