On paper, I’m sure it seemed like a good idea.

Set a historical play about Toronto’s cruel treatment of Irish immigrants amongst the dark stone blocks of the potato famine memorial in Ireland Park. Situated right on the lake at Bathurst, Ireland Park provides a beautiful and striking backdrop, and, appropriately, is located just west of the site where 38,000 sick and starving Irish immigrants came ashore in 1847.

But Ireland Park is also directly across from the Island Airport, and right from the start, on the play’s opening night, noise was a big problem. The planes constantly taking off and landing, helicopters circling overhead and the airport ferry making regular runs were simply too much for this delicate, thoughtful piece to compete with.

The play itself is intelligently assembled out of scads of historical research. Scenes are based on actual records from the city of Toronto, the province of Ontario and the old Toronto Mirror. The five-member cast not only present nearly forgotten stats and policies (like the hopelessly meagre daily rations for Irish widows and orphans staying in Toronto’s asylum system), but they also bring them to life in realistic, heart-rending scenes.

Bits about the massive public health mobilization that included horrific “fever sheds” at King and John, and nearby “dead houses,” lend a disturbing historical dimension to these downtown sites. 

Dramatic scenes are separated by haunting songs, and intense movement pieces where repetitive group action (like shovelling and sailing) make good use of the memorial’s wall-like outcroppings.

Unfortunately, the peripheral noise problem culminated at a bad time. During a movement piece about Irish families starving to death, the silence was broken by the booming voice of a booze-cruise MC. The cast held a tableau while the party boat slowly passed by the stage, but the scene’s austere mood was not salvageable.

This otherwise strong show would have more impact in a controlled environment.