Shalyn McFaul, Jacqui Youm, Kirsty Provan
in Remnants: A Fable
So I have a confession to make. I love to cry. I cried watching Pam and Jim become new parents on the latest episode of “The Office”, I cried last week watching people reunite in the middle of the airport, I cried yesterday watching extreme home makeover, and yes, I even cried during the commercials- what can I say, Tim Hortons knows how to get you every time. Crying is, apparently, one of my favourite things to do in life. But I have never wept as much as I do every single time I experience the communion that goes on inside the theatre. I find myself sitting in that beautiful sacred space, my hands clutching that paper ticket to my chest automatically, as if they are still trying to be the 5 year old tiny version of themselves. My face will still twitch and scrunch to mimic those of the actors, which is normally when I catch an elderly lady staring at me in alarm as I scowl at her as if I am A Wild Thing, instead of a 22 year old thing. I am completely captivated. Time stops for me here. And sometimes, half way through the show, my cheeks will surprise themselves with the realization that they carry streams of tears, running gently and somehow comfortingly down my face.
When I was a little girl, maybe 5 or 6, I went through a phase where my mother would find me sleeping in my closet on a regular basis. I don’t think my parents ever thought twice about introducing their incredibly imaginative children to literature like CS Lewis at such a young age. I was so convinced that if Aslan knew that I was waiting for him every day and trying my darndest to be exactly like Lucy, that one day he would let me into Narnia. It wasn’t until about 17 years later that I realized that he already had.
When I am on stage, I breathe. Breath is such a funny thing. We spend our whole lives holding it, waiting for that once a year vacation where we let it out for a week. This is the past 3 years of theatre school talking now. What I’m trying to say is that this is where I come alive.
There is something so beautiful about the arts...the way in which they move us. At Pacific Theatre, I grieved in Grace, I was humbled by the Prodigal Son, I experienced a beautiful love in Shadowlands, I found shocking redemption in the Woodsman, and I found my calling in a Bright Particular Star. I have found a new form of worshipping my heavenly father, and every night I am here in this space, this holy of holies, I am baptized on stage.
I am overjoyed just to witness. But to be able to participate....that truly is the greatest gift of all.
A lot of people really love their Sunday morning church service. I love the fact that I come home from work every day and feel as if i've just had one of the most intimate sessions with my Jesus.
I have had a glimpse of Narnia, and it is a beautiful place.
Kirsty Provan, Pacific Theatre apprentice 2006-2007
