Actress embraces role with canine co-star
Jezebel, at the Still Point, examines the lessons that an animal can offer in our lives
Most performers flinch at the thought of being on stage with a dog, because the dog gets all the love.
But that’s exactly what theatre and movement artist Ainsley Hillyard hopes will happen when she and her French bulldog, Jezebel, appear at the Roxy on Gateway starting Oct. 11.
“She’s the star element of the show, and I just move through the space around her,” said Hillyard, 34, whose show — Jezebel, at the Still Point — is part of the Roxy Performance Series.
That doesn’t mean that Hillyard’s role is unimportant. Certainly, she has all the speaking and dancing parts, which is good, because Jezebel has stubby legs and is frankly awkward on the dance floor. Her theatrical range is limited to sleeping and snorting. Nonetheless, she is the reason the show exists.
Hillyard was raised with a dog, and has always been an animal person. But she didn’t allow herself the pleasure of dog ownership as a young adult. After graduating from the now-defunct dance program at Grant MacEwan, she moved to Manitoba to pursue a bachelor’s degree from the University of Winnipeg, in affiliation with the school of contemporary dance.
It was a peripatetic life, with erratic jobs, and the paycheque of an artist. For a decade, the time never seemed right for a pet.
“It was a hard, sad, wasted 10 years,” jokes Hillyard.
After a relationship came to a close, Hillyard decided to end the dog drought. She got Jezebel, a retired breeder, four years ago when the dog was two.
“I don’t remember what my life was like before her,” she said. “It totally changed my life and put a lot of things into perspective ...
“I like nice things, a nice home,” said Hillyard, gesturing around her tastefully decorated condo in Old Strathcona. “She sheds. And she has totally destroyed one or two pairs of my favourite shoes. But it doesn’t really matter.”
What matters, turns out, are the lessons Hillyard has learned from Jezebel, such as living in the moment, and trust, and how important it is to have someone who loves you no matter what.
Directed by Beth Dart, Jezebel, at the Still Point began at a theatre workshop Hillyard attended some years ago.
Participants were asked to imagine what they would most like to bring with them to the stage. Impractical as it may seem, Hillyard chose Jezebel.
But what kind of a story could the dog share with an audience?
Hillyard decided to explore the theme of canine immortality, and devised a show that would explore time travel to keep Jezebel alive forever.
“A dog is the most wonderful and horrible thing to love. Their time is so fleeting compared to ours,” muses Hillyard. “In my dog-mom brain, I want her to live as long as me.”
In the hour-long performance, Hillyard wears a full astronaut suit. Jezebel, with her googly eyes and adorably twitchy ears, bears a remarkable resemblance to the alien pet in the animated movie, Lilo and Stitch.
You might think a show that centres around a dog would involve a little ruffed collar, or counting by barks, but you’d be overestimating Jezebel’s tolerance for effort. Mostly, she sits on her rug. Occasionally, she wanders through the audience, sniffing people.
“She has many ways of laying down. She’s a good sprawler and stretcher,” said Hillyard, highlighting the dog ’s marquis draw. “She responds to energy, and to whatever the audience is doing.”
Hillyard has to roll with the star’s whims, which can be unnerving. Jezebel may wander right off the stage, curling up at the feet of an audience member.
But rather than worry when the dog disappears into the risers, or fuss about whether the dog will be awake at the right time, Hillyard has to believe that everything will be OK.
“Her comedic timing is never consistent, but it’s always on point,” said Hillyard.
The show, in the works for three years, enjoyed good reviews at this summer’s Winnipeg Fringe Theatre Festival, where Hillyard realized its potential to connect with audiences.
“This show is very close to me, but we try to make it universal and relatable,” said Hillyard. “At every show, one person comes up in tears to share their own dog story.”