Artist Instructors Profiles

Andy Weir is a Calgary based actor, juggler, writer, and educator. After completing his BFA at the University of Calgary, Andy joined the “Questies” as their lovable intern for a season, where he was lucky enough to tour with their very own Shoes of Sand as the puppeteer. Since then he has also appeared in their production Hello Friend. In the summer he chases the sun out to the mountains where he lives and works with Alberta Parks doing educational shows in the campgrounds - and after 16 different shows over 8 years he’s played countless plants and animals, and even the occasional force of nature. Needless to say, Andy greatly enjoys turning ordinary things into wacky characters, and is thrilled by the opportunity to help kids do the same with Quest!

Q: What is your favourite part about working with young people and why do you think exposing them to theatre/creativity/imagination is important?

A: My favourite thing about working with kids is their energy. Lots of kids are very honest and forthright, and if they don’t like something they let you know, and if they do like something they really let you know. When they commit to a joke or a character they commit 150%. I love working with kids who don’t hold themselves back; who give freely of themselves. 

I think exposure to theatre is important for kids for many different reasons. Not only do we know that engaging with creative work is good for the brain, but I think theatre specifically is also good at developing teamwork and community. No singular child can make a show successful entirely on their own - the show depends on everyone stepping up and delivering. That feeling after a successful run of knowing that you and your classmates nailed it because everyone did their bit and worked together is a very powerful bonding experience. And I also think exposure to theatre is important because it demonstrates that working from a creative framework can be productive. Theatre involves creativity and play, but it also has structure and purpose and impact, and I think it’s important to show that those things aren’t mutually exclusive.

Q: Do you have a favourite story about your time working with students?

A: There was one residency I did at a junior high with the play McBeth where I had a particularly memorable student. She was very shy and quiet and I got the impression that she didn’t really want to be seen. She elected to play Hecate, head of the witches, as Hecate had the fewest lines of all the characters in our scene. As is often the case, she shared this role with two other students, a policy we have to bolster the quiet voices of some students and to protect against having an absent character on show day - if one student is sick, there are still others who know the part. This girl in particular learned her lines well as the week progressed, she knew what she was saying, but was reluctant to offer much physical or vocal energy, preferring instead to hide a little bit behind her fellow Hecates. I was more than happy with this as clearly just getting up in front of her classmates was already testing her comfort zone. This was already big for her.

Finally Friday rolls around and as the classes are coming down to the gym for dress rehearsal I catch wind that her class is in rough shape today - a lot of students are not in. None of the students that play Witch #1 are here. I tell the kids I’ll take over the role since we don’t really have any time to do anything else, and shortly it is our turn to do our dress rehearsal with lights and sound for the first time. As I rouse my class and tell them to find their starting positions, with nerves a-flutter a much smaller class heads up on stage - except for the quiet girl. She tells me the other Hecates aren’t here either. She doesn’t think she can do it, not by herself. I tell her I’m not going to make her, but we both know she knows the lines, she’s been practising all week, I absolutely know she can do this. I’m already Witch #1, otherwise I’d do it with her. I make her a deal - try the dress rehearsal, just in front of a few other classes, and then we’ll make a call about the afternoon show, which would be in front of the whole school and some parents. If she can’t do the afternoon, we can get another Questie. Just give it a shot first.

She says ok and stands up and I watch as very deliberately she puts her foot down at a funny angle, rolls her ankle, and slams into the ground, bending her glasses. She grabs her knee and the very first thing she says is “I can’t do it.” Not that she’s in pain. But that she can’t go onstage. It’s self sabotage. I watched her do it, with intention. But she is hurt, so we halt everything, do a little first aid assessment and grab her some ice packs and a pair of crutches because she really did bang her knee hard. Once she’s feeling a bit better, we discuss - she’s a bit shaky, and she doesn’t want to go on by herself. I fully agree with that call. We find a replacement Questie and come up with a new idea - since her knee hurts too much to sit back down on the floor, we’ll seat her on a bench backstage where she can talk the Questie through what they need to do, and at least she’ll get the experience of the stage lights going up and down. And so we begin a rough dress rehearsal with two emergency Questie replacements. 

Afterwards I check in with her again. Feeling any better? How was the experience of being backstage? She says she feels disappointed with herself. I tell her yeah, she did good work this week, but sometimes things just play out in unfortunate ways, and that’s ok. Don’t beat yourself up. She says she wants to do the show. I am very surprised. Are you sure? I want you to do it, I want you to have the experience, but only if you want that too. She says yes. She wants to do the show, without a dress rehearsal, stage lights in her face, in front of a real audience, by herself, and on crutches for the first time. Of course I say yes! We tell her classmates and they CHEER for her! Her classmates are stepping up to help cover for the missing students, and here she is stepping up too. The dress was rough, but the class is pumped!

When show time rolls around we help her backstage with her crutches. I take my place as a witch, the lights go out, come back up, and we’re away. Hecate comes out on cue, on crutches, hits her lines, McBeth soliloquizes, the lights come down, we’re safe. She did it. I have to continue helping run the rest of the show, but once it comes roaring to an climatic end, I check back in with the class. Everyone is stoked. They are congratulating each other, the shy, quiet girl included. She is proud of herself, and happy. She’s actually smiling, the first time I’ve seen it this week. I tell her I’m so happy she chose to do the show, I tell the class I’m incredibly proud of them for stepping up big time, and that’s it. The week is over. They head back to their classroom, and then out into the weekend. The Questies discuss as we tear down the set - there were some stand out performances, but we all agree, the biggest victory was hers. 

That is by far the most tumultuous journey I’ve ever seen on a residency week, but it’s also my favourite because I watched this girl decide to face her fears head on in the eleventh hour, and she came out on top. It was absolutely amazing to witness, and I could not have been more proud of her.