A glimpse inside Canada’s independent theatre sector, the forgotten lifeblood of the arts

They come from all walks of life.
Laura Schachtler is a sixth-grade teacher. Daniel Gignac works in IT management. David Brown is an art director for a creative agency. But despite the differences in their day jobs, they’re all bound by one thing: their love of the performing arts.
For them, theatre is more than a hobby. It’s their evenings after signing off from their nine-to-five jobs. It’s their weekends in between family time and running errands. It’s their passion, an activity that gives shape to their lives and from which they’ve made lifelong connections. The theatre is to them what the hockey rink is to many Canadians.
The trio are part of an independent theatre group in Brampton, Ont. Their troupe is one of thousands across the country, each playing an integral role in their communities. Especially in small towns that can’t sustain a large professional organization, these companies fill the void.
But as professional theatre companies face increasing financial pressures that threaten their long-term sustainability, their smaller indie counterparts are witnessing similar trends. Affordable rehearsal spaces are dwindling, production costs are rising and audience attendance is down.
Yet these local artists are continuing to make theatre, finding creative solutions to their problems and contributing hours (and hours) of their time in the process. Amid all the sacrifices, why do they still do it? Simply for the love of the art form.
“Everyone here just has a passion for the arts,” said Gignac, 28. “It’s a passion for seeing something that’s original getting its time on stage and ensuring that the best version of it can go out. That’s the mentality: we do what we can with what we have.”
It’s an ethos embodied by the company of “Vibrant Waveforms,” the theatre production for which Gignac serves as the set and lighting designer and technical director. Written and composed by Jordan May, the synth-pop musical is set in futuristic digital city of Synthoria and follows seven characters whose existence is shattered after they discover that their reality may be artificial. It’s a wholly original piece of theatre — evoking the composers Jason Robert Brown and Jonathan Larson, not necessarily in sonic style, but in its push to mine new musical territory. 
For two weeks, ahead of the show’s premiere in late July, the Star followed the show’s development, charting its journey in the rehearsal room and the stories of its company members, working through logistical quandaries and a shoestring budget — all while displaying the passion and perseverance that’s emblematic of independent theatre as a whole. 
It’s a Monday evening in mid-July, less than two weeks from the opening night of “Vibrant Waveforms.” The seven cast members are gathered in May’s basement to review the score; it’s the final music rehearsal before they move into the theatre. 
The underground space is modest. In the centre of the room are eight banquet chairs, neatly arranged in two rows. May stands in front, surrounded by his instruments and equipment: a keyboard, synthesizer and groove box. And in the back sits May’s father, Kevin, the show’s producer and stage manager, keeping a watchful eye on the clock and with a copy of the script and score in hand. 
The performers stand as they sing, gently marking the choreography for the group numbers. There’s barely enough room, but they make it work.
Improvising, after all, is part and parcel of working in independent theatre. 
With more than a third of the production’s $15,000 budget already set aside to rent a venue for the musical’s five-show run, the Mays have had to find cost efficiencies elsewhere, such as repurposing their basement for the show.
Other rehearsals are conducted at The Old Armoury in Georgetown, a former Confederation-era drill hall that’s been turned into a venue for Globe Productions, a local community group offering their space to May at a discounted rate. 
It’s a venue that the composer knows well. Before writing musicals, May performed for years in that community troupe, alongside many other of the actors now starring in his original show. 
“To see someone like that develop within our system and then go on to be an amazing writer and composer himself — it’s hugely satisfying,” said Mark Llewellyn, president of the not-for-profit musical group. “So the biggest way we were able to help Jordan is to afford him access to our rental space for rehearsal.” 
Accessing inexpensive rehearsal space is one of the major hurdles that indie theatre groups continue to face. Since the COVID-19 pandemic, affordable rental venues have dwindled across the GTA due to rising real estate prices. A 2022 report published by Dance Umbrella Ontario found the average hourly rate for a rehearsal venue suitable to accommodate a dance company (a musical theatre group would require a similar space, generally with a large floor area to facilitate movement) was $44, nearly double what companies surveyed said they could afford. 
Given the exorbitant costs of mounting a show, many small artistic groups often rely on the generosity of others. The high-tech set for “Vibrant Waveforms,” consisting of six flat-screen televisions, includes May’s personal TV along with five others loaned from friends and neighbours. 
Others pitch in however they can. Schachtler and her mother volunteer to help create the musical’s space-age costumes. A mom to one of the other performers, recent high school graduate Brodie Pearce, lends the production her gymnasium for several rehearsals.
“This whole experience has been continually eye opening,” said May. “I feel so fortunate to have people in my life who are willing to go above and beyond for me and this project.” 
Back in the Mays’ basement, the final music rehearsal is well underway. No detail goes unnoticed as they inch closer to their first public performance. May steps away from his keyboard. He limps gingerly into the middle of the room — he broke his right foot at the beginning of the rehearsal process — carefully listening to a tricky harmony in one of the show’s group numbers. 
After this rehearsal, the production enters its most hectic week yet: a series of key run-throughs followed by transferring the entire musical into the theatre. There’s excitement in the air but also nervousness, too.
Will the production, as staged and choreographed, fit into their rental venue at Toronto’s Tarragon Theatre? Will they have enough time to ensure the performers are comfortable in the new space? Will they sell enough tickets to cover the show’s expenses? 
Semi-professional theatre has a long history in Canada. Commonly known as the “little theatre movement,” the scene traces its roots to the beginning of the 20th century. But it only began to truly flourish during the interwar period with the establishment of companies like Toronto’s Hart House Theatre, still running today through the University of Toronto. 
The movement marked the democratization of the art form, shifting some of the focus away from larger commercial theatres and toward grassroots organizations. During its infancy, the sector was at the forefront of experimentation and innovation. Though that has largely faded — many contemporary indie groups typically produce existing works and popular titles — the sector still plays an important role in the broader theatrical ecology. 
With few professional opportunities for emerging writers like May to develop their work, self-produced productions are often one of the few ways for them to see their plays or musicals come to fruition. And that these small groups continue to thrive today, albeit in a different form compared to how they were conceived, is very much in defiance of 21st-century mass culture. Independent theatre is inherently hyperlocal, and serves as a glue for the communities in which they operate. 
You don’t do indie theatre for the money or recognition. (Many of these groups, like the company of “Vibrant Waveforms,” set aside a small portion of their budget to pay those involved. Any remaining profits are also divided equally among the cast, crew and creative team.) 
For performers like Schachtler and Gignac, involved in the arts since their youth, it’s a way of staying connected with their theatrical roots. “It’s doing something that you just love — that like fills your soul,” said Mitchell Munro, the director and choreographer of the production, and a high school biology teacher by day. “I really enjoyed teaching. I love that as a job. But theatre is something that is purely just for fun, for me, that kind of just makes living life better.”
Brown, the art director for a marketing agency, was only “bit by the theatre bug” later in life. The 52-year-old stumbled into performance just over a decade ago. His son was, at the time, heavily involved in the youth theatre program at Globe Productions. (“He was one of those triple-threat kind of kids,” he described.) 
Initially, Brown volunteered backstage. Then, because there was always a need for more male performers, he was roped into the ensemble of a musical. “They were like, you’re a man who doesn’t fall down when he dances, so you’re in the show,” he recalled of that first community production 11 years ago. 
Despite having no previous experience singing or dancing, he’s been performing ever since, usually in two shows each year. “Vibrant Waveforms” marks his 18th production. But it’s Brown’s first musical in which his character, Sage, the maligned elder statesman of the Synthorian septet, was specifically written for him. 
Four other members of the cast are hoping to pursue musical theatre professionally and are currently pursuing degrees in performance. 
Sid Malcolm is one of them. She’s entering her final year of studies in Sheridan College’s musical theatre program. A member of May’s production since its initial January reading, she said it’s invigorating being part of an original show: “Seeing how much effort people put into the production is heartwarming.” 
The lengths some will go in the name of theatre can sometimes literally be measured. For Gignac, it’s in the thousands of kilometres. In early June, he and his fiancée took a trip to Winnipeg to buy a set of used moving lights for the production. They took a one-way flight to Manitoba, then rented a car back to the GTA. Despite the costs of the trip, it was worth it: Gignac managed to purchase the four moving lights for $1,000, a steal considering some theatre lights of that kind can cost upwards of $10,000 each. 
“It’s really rare that the two of us have a weekend off together, so in our minds, for me and my fiancée, we looked at it as if we were just going to go on a road trip for the weekend and enjoy ourselves,” he said. 
Much of community theatre is a labour of love, said Schachtler. But what also gives her much joy is seeing others, like May, pursue their dreams in the process. 
That “process” is the key operating term for those in small-budget theatre. These independent productions are often in rehearsals for months, only to be on stage for a handful of performances.
And while every show wants to be a box office hit and turn a profit, it’s never guaranteed. Even in commercial theatre, only about one in five Broadway productions recoup their entire investment. 
In the end, “Vibrant Waveforms” earned back just over a third of its $15,000 budget. Almost all of it came from ticket sales, which amounted to over $5,000. The net loss was larger than predicted, but the production never expected to break even. 
For May and the rest of the team, however, success is also measured in artistic achievement. And that’s much to be proud of. “I think it hit me during the curtain call on opening night,” said May. “Knowing that the show worked the way I thought it would … and with all the people helping me along this journey — that’s a very rare feeling.”