Monthly Archives: October 2025

A lovely musical about memories: Morningside Road

[Posted without imagery due to web-host issue]

Last night I was able to attend the preview performance of Morningside Road, the musical created by Mhairi Berg and Simon Abbott. It’s the first production of Shadow Theatre’s new season, and it was directed by incoming artistic director Lana Hughes.

I was enchanted. Right from entering the auditorium and seeing the set – I thought to myself, I bet that’s a Daniel van Heyst design, and I was right. The set includes a realistic homey kitchen nook with tea things and a collection of family photos, but also a more abstract area with bits of low stone wall, which becomes various outdoor city locations.

I stayed caught up in the story with three likeable characters, Elaine (contemporary Elaine was played by Maureen Rooney and Elaine of memory was played by Mhairi Berg), the Girl (Elaine’s grand-daughter, Mhairi Berg), and the Lad (Cameron Kneteman). It wasn’t the first “how my grandparents met” play that I’ve seen – Megan and Beth Dart’s Ursa Major was another memorable one – but the story was engaging and the structure worked very well, shifting between now and back-then, between a kitchen in Canada and a city street in Edinburgh. The pacing was appropriate – I never felt like a scene or a song was too long, and I appreciated the various musical callbacks and familiar riffs adding to the continuity. Partway through, I realized that part of what I was admiring was deft lighting design (Liekke den Bakker), with smooth shifts between times/locations/moods and no heavy-handed dimming of areas I was looking at. Costuming (Kat Evans) was that kind of deceptively-simple that perfectly suited the characters and setting but didn’t distract. Of course practical-grandmother Elaine would be wearing slacks and long cardigans and the same comfortable shoes that my own mother wore for years, rather than more old-fashioned housedresses and aprons, and the other performers wore vaguely-timeless outfits that weren’t out of place in 1940s Edinburgh or in the more modern scenes.

The live musical ensemble of Simon Abbott, Curtis den Otter, and Viktoria Grynenko is located upstage centre behind a screen, which worked very well for sound balance and also allowed for the actors to include them in some scenes more actively. One of the songs, That Blessèd Wedding Day, was a lively catchy community-storytelling piece with dancing, in a folk-song idiom like Great Big Sea.

Rooney’s Elaine has clearly been telling stories about her life to her granddaughter for many years. The two of them are allies, more strongly connected than the offstage daughter/mother in between. I was reminded of my own late (great-)Aunt Elaine, who came to Canada from Scotland as a war bride and remained a daily crossword-puzzle fiend well into her 90s. The motif of one person’s story becoming common property, so that the younger generation might object or correct when the grandparent tries telling the story differently (“that’s not right!”) was also familiar and fascinating. Suggestions of Elaine beginning to lose her memory / memories and executive functioning were also done with a light touch.

The music was lovely and it contributed to the storytelling and the character portrayals. I had not heard Rooney sing before, but I was very impressed.

I wasn’t able to see the version of this musical that Berg and Abbott presented at last year’s Fringe festival, so I can’t tell you how the Shadow Theatre production differs. But I was very pleased with this one – it is nuanced, affectionate, and wistful.

Running time is a bit under 2 hours – and just the length it needs to be. Tickets are available here, for the run continuing until November 6th.

Northern Light’s The Pink Unicorn: hopeful and loving

Patricia Zentilli as Trisha Lee in The Pink Unicorn. Images Brianne Jang BB Photographic. Set and costume Trevor Schmidt, lighting Larissa Poho.

The first production in Northern Light Theatre’s 50th-anniversary season is The Pink Unicorn, by Elise Forier Edie, directed and designed by Trevor Schmidt. I meant to tell you about it last week, but for some reason my blog host wasn’t letting me post pictures. So I waited, since I love the promo photos of Trisha telling her story.

And it’s so good! Patricia Zentilli plays small-town Texas mom Trisha Lee. Trisha’s been raising her only child Jolene alone since her husband Earl died when Jolene was six. Various details show that she’s always been proud of her daughter and supported her in being her unique creative self. So when Jolene tells her mom that she’s going to start high school as an agender and pansexual person, named Jo, Trisha responds as well as she can manage – helping to shop for a leather jacket, and looking up the unfamiliar terms on the internet at work. She worries a bit about whether the other kids will mistreat Jo, but reassures herself and the audience that Jo looks “real cute” in her buzzed hair and black boots. By this point I realize that it’s not just me – that the whole audience is clearly on Trisha’s side here. We might feel superior from our 2025 perspective, already knowing the vocabulary – but Trisha Lee is so easy to relate to, a loving parent trying to support and protect her kid, who’s living a life Trisha doesn’t understand.

You might remember that Northern Light produced this solo play in 2015, with Louise Lambert performing, and with Trevor Schmidt directing and designing. I think the current production brings us a more nuanced portrayal of Trisha. I was struck by her bravery, in the way she did uncomfortable things because she needed to – from her history of getting a job and carrying on as a single parent after her husband died, to her steps into activism on Jo’s behalf.

Trisha also tells the audience parts of the story that don’t reflect well on her, acknowledging that some of the thoughts are things you aren’t supposed to say. But the comments she makes without apologizing help to remind the audience that she’s still part of that particular culture, where “Latino, Hispanic, and Chicano” are all still used, and in the inner monologue we’re privy to, she always refers to Jo as “she”, not as Jo’s requested pronoun of “they”. That particular point reminded me that maybe I’m making judgements based on superficialities too. Trisha is doing so much to support her daughter and the rest of the unofficial GSA, why do I even notice the pronouns detail?

Patricia Zentilli as Trisha Lee in The Pink Unicorn. Images Brianne Jang BB Photographic. Set and costume Trevor Schmidt, lighting Larissa Poho.

The set design (Schmidt) creates the sense of a feminine living-room – even a jug of pink lemonade on the coffee table – in front of a fascinating background with dainty pink wallpaper torn open to reveal a sculptured rural landscape. Lighting (Larissa Poho) and sound (Darrin Hagen) enhance the shifts in storytelling tone and location, through a church service, a downmarket bar, and a protest in the rain. Trisha’s outfit includes boots and a silver-medallions belt over a pink patterned dress and large hair, but it feels contextual rather than caricaturistic (I’m doing a rewatch of the small-town-Texas TV show Friday Night Lights, and she’d fit in there if she wanted to).

Also – parts of it are hilarious! Zentilli is great at delivering funny lines that the character doesn’t see as funny, or doesn’t stop to enjoy. This is no surprise to anyone who’s seen her in various big-stage musicals at the Citadel or the Mayfield,

The Pink Unicorn is both provocative and hopeful. In the author interview in the show program, Forier Edie says that if she were writing it today, she might write a “scarier” version. But I loved the reminder that people’s minds can be changed, one at a time, by really listening to the people they care about. And I appreciated the call-to-action at the end, where Trisha points out to us that doing the hard thing isn’t just for people who are already good at it. I know there are lots of Jos around here, and lots of Elijah Breakenridges. And I know that not all of them have a Trisha in their corner. But Trisha’s story shows that you don’t have to be an experienced advocate to start doing the right thing for someone you care about – just do it.

The Pink Unicorn is playing at the ATB Arts Barns Studio Theatre until October 11th. Tickets are here.