Last evening we met an actor. The closest I have been to the venerable art of the theatre is having participated in a prep school play over 60 years ago; and, later when in undergraduate studies at Glendon Hall I was head of its theatrical makeup department having then thrived upon my introduction through James Carmen Mainprize to Malabar’s at 14 McCaul Street in downtown Toronto.

This quaint familiarity with the thespian craft – and a recollection of Bruno Gerussi’s Shakespearean performance at the Stratford Festival – made for an endearing respect of the barnstorming genius. I was immediately struck by our new acquaintance before even having seen his face.  As I waited in the sitting room while my partner greeted our guests at the apartment door – and before they filtered through the short entrance hallway – I overheard him introduce himself, “My name is Justin!” This facility with relevancy and communication was to my thinking no accident. Though I imagine that personal retirement is not entirely uncommon among actors, my further suspicion is that for the most part they tend to the more overt and distinct characteristic.

When our guest and his mother (our neighbour) came into the small sitting room I invited his mother to her customary seat in my grandfather’s antique armchair, then motioned towards the other armchair for our guest but he resisted and preferred an upright chair with its back to the balcony door in the most removed corner of the seating convention. From there – upon my immediate inquisition of him – he proceeded to offer a candid and decidedly modest account of his talent and career aspirations.

What struck me most resoundingly of his description was that the theatrical pursuit was for him an imperative; that is, something he felt obliged or compelled to do. This I interpreted as a model of personal fulfillment and calling – while recognizing that it was an ambition far removed from the popular sphere. This in turn speaks to the singularity of stage acting. Actors are an uncommon rendezvous. Here (in my imagination) I lapsed into a remote but memorable scene of Federico Fellini’s Satyricon wherein the actors are entertaining the Roman élite.

Our guest spoke mournfully (though jokingly) of the necessity of actors to withstand the compulsion of auditions. As we together observed it is an inescapable element of the venture.

Many years ago soon after I began undergraduate studies  – during a summer – I joined a troupe of actors headed by Louis Capson called Creation 2 on Bernard Avenue in the Toronto Annex.  My “job” was to raise financial support, drawing upon my prep school acquaintances and connections. Although my first (and profitable) stop was with Gage Love (of Campus Papers), my second calling was with the Anglican Archbishop at the cathedral on Bloor St E where the annual cadet parade of St Andrew’s College had been conducted. Acting was of course not disregarded by the Archbishop. Its emanation is a manifestation not foreign to religion.

Theatre is to society in general an alert and stimulating way to inspire wonder and thoughtfulness. Our guest has drawn upon his understanding and skill in the craft to have written and directed a play. I readily entertained his continued success and growing popularity both firsthand on stage and also as a playwright.  I assured him I have never been wrong – though of course as a social grace he intuitively rejected the prospective flattery.