By John Threlfall

Looking for two words that encompass both the risks and rewards of live theatre? Try “new work”.

A new work could offer the most sublime experience of your ticket-paying life — a show that you’ll anecdote out on for years to come (“and then Brad Pitt stepped on stage and he wasn’t even listed in the cast!”) — or it could be the theatrical equivalent of the worst blind date, where you’re praying a natural disaster will cut the night short before things get any more embarrassing than they already are.

Sometimes a new work offers a world premiere: untried and untested, never-before-staged, ripe from the mind of the creator(s). Other times you’re seeing the latest incarnation of a show that may have already been tweaked, workshopped or dramaturged, but still offers a fresh experience to the audience. It could be the live reading of a script yet to be staged, or an experimental workshop of a new collaboration. (Spoiler: Intrepid’s Incoming Festival offers all of the above.) Like clicking the safety belt on an airline vacation or your strutting downtown in a fresh pair of kicks, it’s all exciting in its own way.

With 40 years in and around live theatre now tucked under my retro-chic belt, I’ve witnessed more than my fair share of new works. Whether as a lighting tech, stage manager, arts writer, theatre critic, board member or ticket-buying audience member, I’ve seen countless new shows: some get instant ovations, others the barest smatterings of impolite applause. A few have gone on to international success (Ride The Cyclone, The One Man Star Wars Trilogy), while others have featured well-established stars that are draws in themselves (Spirit of the West’s John Mann in Beyond Eden, Hawksley Workman in The God That Comes). My favourites have been the shows that offered the professional debuts of folks who would then become some of Canada’s theatrical mainstays: TJ Dawe, Britt Small, Amiel Gladstone, Ingrid Hansen, Chris Wilson, Kelli Fox and Jennifer Lines all come easily to memory.

Hawksley Workman in The God That Comes (UNO Fest 2012)

Admittedly, seeing new work is always a bit of a crap shoot, but as an audience member it’s also the best bet in town. But you need to show up — that’s the secret to it. No audience, no debut. If you don’t take the risk of attending a new work, you’ll not only miss out on the potential reward of seeing the first iteration of the next Hamilton, but also fail to fulfil that crucial audience mandate to support the scene.

Every great show starts out as a new work, although not every new work grows into a great show: even Stephen Sondheim had flops. There’s an incredible scene in Lin Manuel Miranda’s film version of Tick Tick Boom, where a pre-RENT Jonathan Larson has nervously gathered a small room of supporters to watch a workshop of his new musical, Superbia; the tension builds as the audience slowly arrives, shifts uncomfortably, finally gets into the groove and climaxes with the enthusiastic endorsement of that self-same Sondheim . . . only to have the producer then tell Larson that his show has no future and maybe he should consider writing something else, maybe something based on his bohemian friends in the East Village. (True story.)

Victoria is blessed with a long, successful and fascinating history of new works. Intrepid alone has been debuting pieces by local, national and international artists for nearly four decades,sharing a range of experiences and insights far beyond what local audiences normally experience. But we’ve also been fortunate to have longstanding annual festivals like the Fringe and SKAMpede that embrace and encourage new works, which in turn helps young artists emerge from our local theatre schools and grow into working professionals — professionals who then continue to further develop their work and start new festivals themselves. When it works, it creates a self-supporting creative ecosystem and helps maintain Victoria’s reputation as a tourist-worthy arts destination. (Of course, it’s all well and good until someone loses their funding.)

Locally, new-work festivals have come and gone but creators continue to diversify and innovate, finding spaces to mount concepts and build audiences that simply didn’t exist before. And given the speed at which both technology and social mores are developing, I’m looking forward to seeing something new for decades to come before my own final curtain falls.

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Our thanks to JT for contributing this essay for the 2025 Incoming Festival.