Diving into Pool (No Water): A conversation with Persephone Productions co-artistic directors Leila Ghaemi & Rebecca Gibian

Leila Ghaemi and Rebecca Gibian (photo courtesy of Persephone Productions)

After a two-year hiatus, Montreal-based Persephone Productions returns to theatre with Pool (No Water), a contemporary reframing of the one-act dark comedy written by British playwright Mark Ravenhill and directed by the company’s new co-artistic directors Leila Ghaemi and Rebecca Gibian

Pool (No Water) offers a timely exploration of human behaviour that confronts the dark realities of success in today’s society.  A visceral and intoxicating exploration of youth, ambition, art and envy, the play is realized by a diverse cast and creative team featuring young actors Lucas DiTecco, Audrey-Shana Ferus, Thomas Vallieres, David Noel, Rosemarie Sabor and Dakota Jamal Wellman. Pool (No Water) will run until September 15, 2022 at The Segal Centre Studio in Montreal, Québec. 

The play follows a close-knit group of young artists bound by their passion for creating art. They all have dreams of making it big, but when one finds success, the others are left to reconsider their ambitions.  Is success a zero-sum game? Does the success of one require the failure of others to maintain cosmic balance?  Ultimately, a horrific accident exposes a disturbing underbelly of success linked to jealousy and self-righteousness. 

Shortly ahead of the play’s premiere, Sesayarts Magazine spoke with Ghaemi and Gibian about their careers, their ambitious vision for Persephone Productions, and how Pool (No Water) supports the imperative to make room for others in the theatre community. 

SM: Let’s start with you. Please tell us a little about you and why you chose to pursue a life in theatre. Has it been what you hoped it would be?

Leila: I started theatre at a very young age. Growing up, teachers would joke that, “all I needed was a microphone”, so my parents threw me in a drama class. It quickly became my main mode of expression and empowerment. The older I became, the more seriously I took it – signing up for any extracurricular activities, classes, or camps available. Approaching CEGEP, I begged my parents to let me study it in the States. I was relentless. Luckily they caved in and I began my path into professional work, which has had its peaks and valleys. 

Having done most of my career as a BIPOC artist in the United States, it’s hard to qualify if life in theatre is everything I “hoped” it to be, as a lot of my high points were bogged down with microaggressions and societal growing pains. But I wouldn’t change any of it for the world. At the end of the day, I can truly say that I do what I love for a living and honour younger-me with a “microphone” everytime I lead a room. I don’t take that for granted.

A scene from Pool (No Water). Image courtesy of Persephone Productions

Rebecca: In many ways I developed a love for theatre thanks to my parents, who went out of their way to get some little bits of art into my life when they realized the art-shaped whole in my high school’s curriculum. I’d say my  decision to pursue theatre “professionally” really came about when I got into the National Theatre School. As far as it being what I’d hoped–honestly, I’m still finding out. Can I let you know in a few years? 

I’d say the pursuit of a life as an artist is complex and often oversimplified or romanticised. People in theatre school would say, you have to know or quit now, and, as an over-thinker, to that I say, “oh please”. For one, to pursue a career in theatre is to work many different jobs (which is why many people enter it from a place of financial privilege,) and I think the very best artists are those who have many other interests. Curious, open-minded people certainly make the best actors, in my experience. I find I’ve grown to enjoy the juggling that it is to try to live as a theatre person, but am at my best when I am working– as we all are. In many ways I still feel like an emerging artist myself, still craving opportunities, hoping to see risks being taken, and for room to be made at the table. Through Persephone Productions, I hope to make room for others in this community.

SM: How did the opportunity to become the co-Artistic Directors of Persephone Productions come about, and what made you decide that the time was right to undertake this leadership role and do it together?

Rebecca: It was a marriage of serendipity and a lot of shared grit. The short of it is I, Rebecca, ran into a former theatre collaborator and mentor (and all around incredible human) Bryan Doubt on my way to buy some lamps at Canadian Tire. We ended up blocking the sidewalk for over 3o minutes, as one does when one encounters a twin theatre soul during COVID, and he eventually said he would put me in touch with Persephone Productions because they were looking for a new Artistic Director. I felt flattered but thought the idea was a little out of reach. But I left the encounter with a feeling of excitement, and no lamps.

The company ended up meeting with a few candidates, but from the start I insisted I wanted a collaborator. I’m a twin, so maybe that’s part of the psychology, but in general I always think collaboration is the best way forward, and I knew Leila was perfect for the position–she is a lifelong friend, we share a lot of the same theatre values, and in many ways she is even more qualified than I was to lead a company. Persephone Productions agreed to meet with Leila, and I’d say her qualifications, and her charm, sealed the deal. And here we are. 

SM: Under your shared leadership, what direction would you like to take the company, and can you give us an insight into how you envision doing it?

Rebecca: I’d say success, to us, is to not only put on compelling, cutting-edge and relevant theatre (although, if that interests you, might I suggest a visit to the Segal Centre in the next few weeks?) but above all success to Persephone Productions Montreal is to see our artists go from this opportunity to the next. We strive to be a stepping-stone for the artists who want to emerge, or re-emerge, onto a scene that can often feel fairly closed off, and be the company that takes the risks and hires those new faces, not only to support and uplift artists but also to diversify the theatre community. 

SM: Tell us why you chose Pool (No Water) to launch the upcoming season. It really seems aligned with Persephone’s values and mandate, if you wish to speak to this aspect, as well.

A scene from Pool (No Water). Image courtesy of Persephone Productions

Rebecca: Pool (No Water) is a play that has been on my mind for quite some time now. It centers around a group of emerging artists coming to terms with their desire for success, and wrestling with envy that comes with some people “making it” before others. The process of having a bunch of emerging artists, on and off stage, putting on this play is a satisfyingly meta experience, really.

But the play deals with larger themes as well: what does it mean to make art? Who can claim ownership of art? Can art-making be good? These larger questions ring differently in a post-pandemic society, and we look forward to seeing how the play resonates with audiences in 2022. 

SM: What would you like us to know about the production and how diverse Montreal audiences might relate to it?

Leila: In many ways, I don’t want people to know anything about the show – that way they can ~dive in~ with the rest of the cast. But if I am speaking truthfully, I would want you to know how proud we are of this production. As Rebecca mentioned, Pool (No Water) has been on her mind for quite some time and when she shared the text with me, I quickly became obsessed. It was the perfect fit for this new chapter of Persephone – one that was supposed to happen in January but got delayed (almost cancelled) due to Covid. We fought really hard for this production and I am extremely proud of our persistence.

 As new co-artistic directors of this company, it is imperative that we are intentional with our leadership. Alongside our mission to support emerging artists, Rebecca and I aim to produce intersectional work that advocates for diversity on and off stage. Pool (No Water) is a minor step in the right direction and we look forward to the growth ahead. If anything, we hope that this play opens a dialogue between Persephone and the Montreal community, allowing us to actively listen and keep the conversation going with future productions.  

SM: What do you hope that audience members might talk about on their way home from  Pool No Water?

Leila:  Without giving too much away, Pool (No Water) ends with the characters discovering the beauty of  brutal honesty, and how it is followed by instant relief. This moment is well earned, as the characters spend most of the play struggling with their suppressed feelings towards a member of their friend group – leading to pure chaos. It is only when they are truthful with each other that they are able to find peace. In many ways, the story serves as a cautionary tale, depicting what happens when we don’t live authentically. 

Alongside questioning the ethos (or lack thereof) of an artist, I hope audience members will reflect on the power of communication, both societally and our day-to-day lives.

SM: The final word is yours: What question didn’t I ask  you that you wish I had (and what is the answer)?

Leila: I wish you asked us where people can buy tickets! Don’t worry – I got you covered.

Tickets can be bought on The Segal Centre website. We will be running until September 15th and look forward to seeing you there!

© Arpita Ghosal, SesayArts Magazine, 2022

  • Arpita Ghosal is a Toronto-based arts writer. She founded Sesaya in 2004 and SesayArts Magazine in 2012.