You’d first be caught by the soulfulness of her eyes, the clear, insightful gaze that reached right inside you and commanded – though gently – your attention.
But along with it there was that sly, dimpled smile and touch of humour behind the eyes, a sense that she could tease you as easily as touch your heart.
We first remember Tracy Wright in productions by the Augusta Company, the groundbreaking troupe that included her partner Don McKellar and Daniel Brooks. Playing with form and style, the company sent up well-made plays and structure of all sorts in such works as Red Tape, Indulgence and Drinking.
Tracy stood out in works by another adventurous company, STO Union, performing in Revolutions In Therapy and Recent Experiences, and later collaborated with another good friend, Daniel MacIvor, in works produced by da da kamera, including The Lorca Play, Jump, and White Trash, Blue Eyes.
One of her last stage appearances – twice, since it was remounted following its initial success – was with Caroline Gillis, yet one more long-time pal, in MacIvor’s A Beautiful View. As a straight woman who had stumbled into an on-again off-again same-sex relationship, Tracy could express so much through a shrug of her shoulders or a sudden burst of false cheer.
Acting is about subtext – what underlies the dialogue – and Tracy was a master at suggesting that, whether it came via a glance from those eyes, a shift in her tone of voice, a nervous smile, or often just silence.
At the sime time that she was helping define the independent theatre scene, Tracy was also appearing regularly in TV and films, creating unforgettable characters in McKellar’s Last Night, Reg Harkema’s Monkey Warfare and Miranda July’s Me And You And Everyone We Know, among other movies. Onscreen, she created a new kind of urban heroine: fiercely intelligent, sometimes angry, jaded, but a survivor.
In an oft-recounted story, July spotted Tracy in a Rotterdam Film Festival lobby, remembering her from Last Night. Her casting choice and the film’s title were apt. Tracy stood for – stands for – me and you and everyone we know. She was a friend, someone we didn’t see often enough but who would always have a bunch of stories to tell that would make us laugh – and think.
Tracy had planned to appear in the title role in Brecht’s Galileo, a reading staged for her last month by Small Wooden Shoe’s Jacob Zimmer. She would have been surrounded by friends and colleagues she’d worked with for the past several decades: McKellar, Brooks, Fiona Highet, Gillis, Earl Pastko, Nadia Ross, Robin Fulford, Sky Gilbert, and others.
Sadly, illness forced her to be in the hospital, so we didn’t have that last opportunity to see the luminous actor onstage.
Too bad. We know she’s getting a standing ovation right now. And grinning right back.[rssbreak]
