The stage lights come on, revealing a bickering married couple waiting for their controversial third partner to arrive. Told in three parts, the show ends with a wedding ring discarded and a sacrifice to the gods.

Theoxenia was performed at the Mike Taugher Studio with three dates and later had five showings as part of the Fringe Festival.

I attended its debut in April. I informed Evan Shumka, the writer and director of Theoxenia—but most importantly, a good friend of mine—that I would interview him once Theoxenia had finished its run in the Fringe Festival. A few weeks later, he put me in the show.

“I knew if I could get people in love with the script, that it would work,” Evan Shumka says.

He set up a couple of directed studies so that he could develop a play while simultaneously collecting the course credits he needed to graduate. One of them included a set design class where he designed a set that did not end up being used. Despite determinedly pursuing the production of Theoxenia, it still didn’t feel real.

Not until Leon Potter let Shumka bring his script into one of his acting classes.

“We did the read-through and I was like, shit. This is actually going to happen,” Shumka says.

The idea had officially left his head and began materializing itself as an actual show. People started buzzing with excitement and ideas, wondering how they could help or get involved.

Primarily, casting comes down to recognizing the character within a person. Shumka still wanted to see everyone audition—hemming and hawing is part of his process—but he says, “Yeah, I knew Taryn was going to be Nick.”

Taryn Jiang, assistant technical director for the UBC Players’ upcoming Shakespeare in Love, received his Theatre Diploma from VIU and is currently working towards a degree in Design and Production at UBC. He played Nick for both productions of Theoxenia, but his contributions extended beyond that.

Jiang organized a last-minute questionnaire for the audition process because Shumka did not have a stage manager yet and, as per his account, had no idea what he was doing.

“He was my saviour that day,” Shumka says of the experience.

Max Rukus was Assistant Stage Manager for VIU’s production of PUFFS in 2024. He’s over six feet tall and looks like if a truck hit him, I would be worried about the truck. That was the godly kind of physicality that Shumka was trying to find for the character of Widdershins.

When Shumka approached him to ask if he ever acted, Rukus responded that he did, but that he preferred having shorter lines.

“Widdershins’ [lines] were mostly short already, but I just had that in mind for my next draft,” Shumka says.

Rukus also ended up being the lighting designer for Theoxenia’s debut on the recommendation of a friend.

Rhiann Hutchison, who graduated from VIU with a Technical Theatre Diploma, originated the role of Tegan—the same role that I would later play.

Tegan is easily the most controversial character in Theoxenia.

“In the wrong hands, that would just be a really dislikeable character,” Shumka says. Some audience members came away from the show cursing her name regardless, upset at how she pushed other characters or the things she said to them. But, as Shumka put it, “If that’s the actor’s reaction to her … it’s not going to do her justice and feel true.”

He was fairly certain of who he wanted to play Nick and Erin, but Tegan was a mystery.

“I might have had a bit less of a clear image of her,” Shumka says. He understood what was going on for her internally, but beyond that, there was no face that came to mind.

Hutchison hadn’t done much acting beforehand. She had a minor role in VIU’s production of Midsummer Night’s Dream, which had premiered three months previous to Theoxenia’s auditions. Other than that, most of her experience in theatre had her in the wings or up in a booth. Not centre stage.

“I prepared for the audition by considering Tegan’s wardrobe,” Hutchison tells me.

“I was really impressed by that,” Shumka says when he recounts the same story. “I didn’t know what Tegan looked like, but it seems like she’s right here.”

Evan Shumka, despite being an actor himself, did not grace the stage for his own play.

“I know some people are somehow able to direct themselves. I don’t know how you do that,” he says simply. As director, he assumes the role of an audience member. He considers how a scene will appear to the viewer by standing behind the fourth wall that actors aren’t meant to know about.

Shumka had major roles in She Kills Monsters, PUFFS, Our Town, and A Midsummer Night’s Dream at Malaspina Theatre over the years.

Although his involvement was as an actor, those experiences doubled as a masterclass in directing—what better way to learn about something than to live it?

“I felt I had a certain level of confidence that I could do it because I’d seen it done so many times before,” Shumka says, referring to Leon Potter and Dorothy Dittrich as previous directors.

The 30 seats crammed into Mike Taugher Studio were near-full every show. In other words, Theoxenia was a resounding success. So much so that he was sore by the end of it.

“Every show, I was so tense … It was so good. There was nothing to be worried about!” he explains. “I’m like, empathically connecting with everything that’s going on. So I’m feeling how well every emotional beat is being hit, and all the lines and every moment.”

As a performer, it can be hard to feel success. There’s pride in receiving bows and applause, but something about the blinding stagelights and adrenaline has a habit of leaving your memory blurry. It’s a high that often doesn’t sink in.

“The first time, especially, that we did the show—that was the biggest sense of achievement I have maybe ever felt,” Shumka says.

And then he had to do it all over again.

In the same week that Theoxenia debuted, Shumka received news that it had been selected for the Fringe Festival.

This time, it was impossible not to picture a face, an outfit, or hear a specific line delivery. It had just been performed in April and was set to be shown just three months later in August. Rhiann Hutchison (Tegan), Max Rukus (Widdershins), and Kaylin Zech (Klondike) were unable to return for the duration of the Fringe Festival.

“I was worried about, you know, having to settle for someone who doesn’t fit as well … which wouldn’t have felt good for anybody,” Shumka says. Once auditions passed, he still hadn’t found a new Tegan.

For our interview, he and I met at Pipers Lagoon because Neck Point had absolutely no parking. The first spot we found was perfect, if your ideal weather is boiling in the sun, but Shumka is a spoilsport and asked to move. The next spot was completely shaded by trees, but was accompanied by a headless doll that I felt we should not disturb. So we found a cliffside overlooking the water with some overhead coverage and zero headless dolls.

“You and I talked after you got back from your trip,” Shumka recounts once he finished his sandwich. “And you were like, oh drat. I guess I missed auditions.”

It was an empty placation. The thought of auditioning had crossed my mind, but at no point did I seriously consider it. That didn’t stop him from latching onto what was intended to be a throwaway comment.

In high school, I was a chorus member in two musicals. I had a total of three lines between them. But if they were musicals, didn’t you sing? No. I opened my mouth and pretended.

Although I have made plenty of jokes that I was added to the cast of Theoxenia against my will, it’s just easier to say I don’t want to than admit that I might not be very good. That way, it’s a choice that I made. Still, I sent him a video audition when he asked me to. It didn’t matter, anyways. He was never going to pick me.

Neither Rhiann nor I considered ourselves actors at the time of auditioning, and we’re both terrified of spiders—which is actually an integral part of Theoxenia.

“You were both short too, and I liked that,” Shumka laughs. “I was a bit nervous, in the same way I was nervous with Rhiann because I hadn’t seen her act a lot … But when I realized that the nerves I had about that were the same as they were before, I [thought], this is obviously the right person.”

Before accepting the role, I gave him a list of reasons why he should not cast me. I had a busy work schedule. I was sure I would cry. And one of those three lines that I had back in high school was just saying the number 7. So really, I only had two lines that mattered.

He was not dissuaded.

I comforted myself by deciding that either I would not be very good and I would get to tell him I told you so, or it would go okay, which was better for everyone.

I did have a busy work schedule, I did cry, and I had a lot more than two lines. I had two monologues, some screaming, and the privilege of playing a character who didn’t want to be present—meaning I got to spend a lot of time offstage. Ultimately, I had a lot of fun.

“I was contacted by Evan exactly a month out from opening to fill in for the role of Klondike [in the show],” Bailey Mertz Symchyck says. That’s right, I wasn’t the only Bailey added to the cast of Theoxenia. “We got to try things out and mess with the script … I’m really grateful to have gotten to work with such amazing creatives.”

Mertz Symchyck is not alone in her sentiments. Each cast member that I spoke to expressed gratitude for the opportunity and for each other, saying all the words that I cannot begin to properly convey myself.

When I ask Shumka about his creative ambition, he says, “When I have nothing to do, I feel antsy.” Not everyone needs to write or act or direct, let alone do all three. For him, it’s not a choice. It’s instinctive.

“It’s these things that give you purpose and you feel alive doing,” he says. “It comes from inside yourself…”

“And then you have to put it somewhere,” I finish for him.

When I originally demanded an interview from Shumka, I had already pictured the shape of this article. Maybe it would be structured in three acts like Theoxenia; I could give a play-by-play of the show while breaking down the pre-production, rehearsals, and performances. I wanted to uplift my friend and highlight his talents.

Instead, he put me onstage.

Against my will, this article has become a thank-you note—to Evan Shumka, to Taryn Jiang, Alex Bhargava, Bailey Mertz Symchyck, Kaz Crawford, Oliver St Laurent, Dakota Hepner, and to Rhiann Hutchison, Max Rukus, and Kaylin Zech.

Thank you for a summer I never could have imagined, and an experience that no meddlesome gods could force me into giving up.