The Experience of Imaginary Ordinary

"Too much art 'about place,' is more about art and the place of art than about the actual places where artists and viewers find themselves."

—Lucy Lippard, The Lure of the Local: Sense of Place in a Multicentred Society

Many artistic directors of theatre companies across Canada think carefully about how their programming will reach out to a local community. Cognizant of good dramaturgical practice, aware of the latest business models, and no doubt having a solid understanding of their company's constituency, its demographic, and its niche, these competent people will then go about programming a season of productions. Often the content of these plays will resonate deeply with the artistic director's sense of who its audience is, or could be. The company will then market the season and will frequently use the word "community" to describe the "experience" of belonging a person might have if she or he was to attend these productions, preferably the entire season—at a discount price, of course—as these plays will address issues and/or identities and/or themes that this particular audience member will care about. I think we've all gone through this before, haven't we? No doubt the readers of CTR have been on both sides of these campaigns, having been both producers and consumers of these seasons. For the past several decades the formula has been remarkably similar, whether we're talking about a theatre company in Halifax, Montreal, Toronto, Winnipeg, Regina, Edmonton, Vancouver, or wherever.

"Tyler still loves Pokemon, even though his friends don't." Project photos by Bryce Krysnki, Mia Rushton, Eric Moschopedis, Laura Leif, and Aviva Zimmerman

It seems to me that this strategy is mistaken in two respects: first, community isn't something that can be generated through marketing or other superficial ways that producers use to generate attention to artistic products; second, community is surely something much more multifaceted, layered, and complex than the feeling of unity that can sometimes occur between people attending a company's fundraising event or by being an audience of a performance. This is why Imaginary Ordinary is such an important book: it's an innovative documentation in the style of a curatorial catalogue of the event, Imaginary Ordinary, a community-mapping project that took place in the Calgary neighbourhoods of Crescent Heights, Regal Terrace, and Renfrew during the summer of 2009. Eric Moschopedis and Laura Leif, the artistic leaders of this event, facilitated a form of engagement with their neighbours that has many important lessons for theatre practitioners whose websites, mission statements, and season announcements would suggest are trying to do the same thing, but less effectively.

Before I review the book, here is an outline of the event upon which the book is based. On 8 May 2009, after weeks of preparing the space (from fixing the roof to re-wiring and re-flooring), an abandoned storefront that constituted the home base of Imaginary Ordinary was opened. The storefront's location, on Centre Street, just north of Calgary's downtown core, made it an ideal space of operation to serve the surrounding neighbourhoods. The book describes the space as having a fun and funky décor where people could meet, socialize, and participate in various scheduled activities. Wall space was devoted to the display of various projects; there was a collection of comfortable chairs and a large table for gatherings, and even a modest kitchen space so tea and other refreshments could be served. From its opening until 29 August 2009, when it closed, the space was gradually transformed by the tangible outcomes of the project. Yet while the space filled up with interesting and engaging artwork, Moschopedis contends that the storefront...