Just over a month ago, my life changed.
The night of December 21, having been advised earlier by my newspaper’s union rep not to continue writing for an employer who hadn’t paid me in months (it’s a long story), I cracked open a can of cider, signed up for a CMS my friend Norm had recommended, bought a domain name, wrote a few paragraphs, pressed send and launched a new blog/site/newsletter about Toronto theatre and the performing arts.
I called it “So Sumi,” a pun on my last name and a cheeky, ironic reference to what I hoped had been my approach to writing about theatre during the previous 25 years. “You don’t like what I wrote? So sue me!” Or, “That’s so Sumi!” I keep discovering new meanings. After a show last week, an acquaintance, by way of greeting, said simply, “So, Sumi?” (i.e., what did I think?).
(At the time, I didn’t realize that Sosumi is also an alert sound – you’ll recognize it when you hear it – named for Apple’s lengthy court battle with the similarly-named Apple Corps over the use of music on its computer systems. There is something oddly appropriate about this fact, since I’ve basically spent the last eight months on career alert and weighing my legal options.)
A screenshot of the homepage of So Sumi - goaheadsumi.com
In my introductory post I filled in my background and what I hoped to do with the site. I thought it looked okay – a little basic and obviously DIY. (I recommend the open-source Ghost platform, but if you're not a coder you'll need to watch some YouTube videos or scan its FAQ pages to learn how to make full use of the system.) On the home page, photos showed up at too low a resolution, and strangely cropped or askew. There was no “Welcome” or “Contact” page (I’d figure that out later, I thought). I didn’t even include a Paid Subscriber option, a decision I would soon come to regret.
The next morning, I learned that, after working for them for just over 25 years, I was locked out of my magazine’s email account. That hurt. No advance notice. No “Thank you for your years of service and loyalty, but…” I still have never been told that I was let go, even though the paper has since been bought by someone else.
That inspired my second post.
Still, as someone pointed out on Twitter around that time, perhaps there was symbolism in the date I began this new venture. It was the winter solstice, and from then on there would be a little bit more light every day.
That has turned out to be true – symbolically if not literally, since Toronto has mostly been grey and depressing for the past month.
As I set about trying to retrieve email contacts from marketing people and scouring the internet for production photos to compile my Toronto stage year-end lists – not an easy thing to do during the holidays! – I was gratified and heartened by the support from all members of the theatre community.
Glenn Sumi interviewing the great Elaine Stritch at the Toronto International Film Festival in 2012. Photo by David Hawe
Actors, directors and writers I had written about when I was first hired by my publication in 1997 subscribed and left comments. Devoted theatregoers I recognized from standing in line at the Fringe signed up. Publicists offered up tickets for contests to help spread the word about their show and the site.
In fact, through all this, those hard-working theatre publicists, some of whom I have worked with for decades, have been among the most supportive and understanding people. When I see them at the theatre, their (masked) hugs are always the firmest and most heartfelt.
I’ll never forget an email I received from one publicist a few months ago, when I anticipated this would all happen and, in debt, depressed and struggling to keep up with reviewing so many shows, I told her I didn’t know if I’d be able to write about her show.
“[Unnamed publication] has/had caché, but Glenn Sumi has more!” she wrote. “If there is anything I/we the theatre community can do to help - we could collect testimonials, start a petition, build an altar - please reach out.”
Messages like this have kept me going.
During the pandemic, many people have found themselves taking stock of their lives and careers. After being let go from jobs or leaving them voluntarily, they’ve thought about what kind of work they really want to do, where they want to live, who they want to spend their time with.
When all of this was going down, I knew I didn’t want to start from scratch somewhere. I didn’t even know if I had the energy or patience to seek work as a full-time arts writer or reporter. Those positions, I feel, should be taken up by younger, hungrier, more ambitious journalists.
I just knew I wanted to keep writing about theatre. When I started out, there were at least half a dozen writers in this country being paid to write full-time about theatre; now there is one. And yet the art form has never been so exciting, so diverse.
Bloggers have attempted to fill the gap left by traditional media. My understanding of the local theatre scene would be much poorer without sites like The Slotkin Letter, Stage Door and (more recently) Istvan Dugalin and Lights Up Toronto. I'm proud to join their ranks.
So... what have I learned in my first month running So Sumi?
• Even though I was associated with a certain (once) respected publication and its brand for over two decades, my own voice and experience might have some value.
• At most outlets, theatre coverage has to share space with other departments (restaurant reviews, a music profile, a column from City Hall, the crossword). Having a devoted audience that has proven they’re interested in Toronto theatre is something special and unique.
• It’s nice having a focus. For more than two decades, I’ve written about the stage scene, but I’ve also contributed to staff-written features like “Reader’s Choice” or “Best Summer Dishes” or “50 Things to Do This Summer.” Now I’m thrilled to be able to narrow my focus but also expand it. When a new season of the musicals-obsessed series Schmigadoon! was announced last week, I thought: I need to review that for the site.
• I’m learning how to navigate the separation between editorial and advertising. Some companies have expressed interest in advertising or sponsorships. This seems necessary if I want to eventually make this a sustainable venture. But do I take meetings with companies whose work I will eventually be critiquing? (I’ve decided I’ll only collaborate with people whose past work I respect. So, you won’t find a sponsored post about Pierre Polievre.)
• I’ve always loved the work of photographers and designers. But I have a huge respect for them now that I’ve had to source my own photos and try to make things look half-way decent on my site.
• I can write whatever I want, whenever I want! The other night I couldn’t get to sleep so I fired up my computer, did some research and, two hours later, launched my site’s Toronto theatre listings section.
• People want to help. Sometimes it seems like the world is filled with awful people doing awful things to each other. But this month has taught me otherwise. Theatre industry folks; my theatre critic colleagues; other people in media; even strangers I simply know from social media – dozens of people have reached out with advice, opportunities, encouragement and, bare minimum, well wishes.
So that’s it. It’s been an eventful month. But I’m grateful and hopeful because every day there’s a little bit more light.
Glenn Sumi is a Toronto writer and editor specializing in the performing arts.