Residency spotlight: Conversation with Gregory Prest

liza paul and gregory posing for a photo in The Theatre Centre Cafe in front of big large windows. They are both wearing green which compliments the green foliage of the indoor and outdoor plants.

“Some of my all-time favourite moments have been when something hilariously awkward happens in public and I catch the eyes of a stranger and for a second we know exactly what each other is thinking. And then we go about our lives. It’s a beautiful intimacy.”

For actor, director, and writer Gregory Prest, even a boardroom meeting can be funny. Born in Pictou, Nova Scotia, Prest is a celebrated, multi-talented artist who has become a staple within the Canadian theatre community. 

He is currently exploring his new show, Quorum, through The Theatre Centre’s Residency program in the Explorations stream. Quorum takes its name from the mundane, quaint, and taken-for-granted connections that inspire his artistic practice. Looking at the absurdity of art boards, where passionate volunteers battle bureaucratic protocol, the project embraces non-performance as performance. A continuation of Prest’s experimental style, Quorum explores the accidental hilarity and emotional intimacy in everyday interactions, what Prest calls a “shared WTF moment.” What happens when passion is trapped under protocol? And why is that so funny? Gregory Prest brings to The Theatre Centre an exploration of the emotional, comedic, and theatrical potential of a board meeting.

Prest graduated from Montreal’s National Theatre School shortly before making his directorial debut with Anita Majumdar’s Fish Eyes (2004) at the Summerworks film festival. Since arriving in Toronto, Prest has garnered dozens of director credits, receiving Dora Mavor Moore nominations for Alligator Pie (2017) and Rose: The New Musical (2019), which won Outstanding Direction. Prest’s directorial resume spans theatre classics like Spring Awakening (2017) to original projects, including the six-time Dora-nominated Bremen Town (2025).

Oliver Dennis, left, Sarah Wilson and Gregory Prest in Soulpepper Theatre’s La Bete.

Oliver Dennis, Sarah Wilson, and Gregory Prest in Soulpepper Theatre’s La Bete

Throughout his time in Toronto, Prest has maintained a close relationship with the artist-led Soulpepper Theatre, collaborating across 12 seasons and 45 productions. For what was perhaps his most ambitious project to date, Prest served as director and writer for Soulpepper’s De Profundis: Oscar Wilde in Jail (2025), a musical adaption of the letter the author addressed to his lover Lord Douglas while Wilde was in prison. Prest reimagines the source material, a 50,000 word reflection never intended for the stage, into a 100-minute fantasy that explores the author’s tumultuous relationships in operatic proportions. The project received six Dora award nominations and two wins, as well as a Toronto Theatre Critic’s Award for musical direction. 

A cross-disciplinary theatre-maker, Prest does not shy away from the stage. He has an impressive acting resume, with his most recent credits including The Inheritance at Canadian Stage (Dora Nomination for Outstanding Ensemble) and The Bidding War at Crow’s Theatre. On screen, Prest has a recurring role on Crave’s Pillow Talk, for which he and his castmates received a Canadian Screen Award Nomination in 2023. Over the past two decades, Prest has lent his expertise as a guest director and lecturer at Toronto Metropolitan University, the University of Toronto, the National Theatre School, Sheridan College, and the Soulpepper Academy.

Our marketing and communications Intern, Lia Iannarilli, chatted with Gregory to learn more about his process and what inspires his work!

“I’m a sucker for misconstrued intension, misaligned communication, flop-sweats and subtext.”

TC: What sparked the idea for your project? How long has it been in the making?

Prest: The idea for Quorum came from years of observing non-profit arts organization board meetings and realizing they can contain a strange, accidental comedy. They’re full of procedure and polite restraint. I’m a sucker for misconstrued intension, misaligned communication, flop-sweats and subtext. Underneath the strict, jargon-filled protocols are passionate people with varying degrees of skill in public communication: sometimes hilariously very poor. I find the strict, conservative form very funny and thought it would be a great structure to try and push subversive comedy. I’ve been thinking about this for years and just started exploring the idea with a group of people in the fall.

TC: You mention the beauty of a “shared WTF” moment. Can you elaborate?

Prest: Some of my all-time favourite moments have been when something hilariously awkward happens in public and I catch the eyes of a stranger and for a second we know exactly what each other is thinking. And then we go about our lives. It’s a beautiful intimacy.

Two men standing on stage staring intensely at one another with a scientific human skeleton in between them.

Oliver Dennis and Gregory Prest in OF HUMAN BONDAGE
Photo by Cylla von Tiedemann

Gregory prest in a production of Bed and Breakfast, he is sitting on a bed talking to a scene partner enthusiastically.

Gregory Prest in Soulpepper Theatre’s Bed and Breakfast

TC: What are some words that you feel connected or aligned with in your creative work?

Prest: The words that feel closest to my work are uncertainty, certainty, curiosity, generosity, play, and collaboration. I’m interested in humour, tenderness, and the subversive – moments where something ordinary becomes accidentally revealing. I often find myself drawn to outliers and strange edges of behaviour, the places where people slip a little and something true comes through.

TC: How did you first become interested in comedy as a medium/method?

Prest: I’ve always been interested in comedy, but I battle with being a shy, sensitive, and self-conscious person. When I can stop taking myself too seriously, I’m better off creatively and in my day-to-day life. If I look back at my “worst” or cringiest moments and try to retroactively post-mortem them, I wish I had had my 11-year-old Miss Piggy-loving guardian angel self scream at me, “Lighten up, weirdo!” Comedy subverts and humbles.

TC: What is the broader purpose or intention of this project? How does it fit in with your previous work?

Prest: I want to create something that people will enjoy making, watching, participating in, and talking about. The astounding thing about this residency is knowing and accepting that the idea for this show may not work at all, which I find terrifying, funny, and healthy. I’m trying to challenge myself to create and work from a place of creative vulnerability and instinct; to desperately flirt with failure. I’m trying not to be afraid of “I don’t know”.

liza paul and Gregory Prest at our 2025 Residency Artist Intake. Photo by Jae Yang.

The Theatre Centre’s Residency Program is generously supported by:

BMO

Residency spotlight: Conversation with Nehal El-Hadi

“And so with this understanding that we are under constant surveillance, whether we do it consciously or unconsciously, we start adapting our behavior to it.”

Nehal El-Hadi wants you to know that you’re being watched.

With her journalistic and academic background, Nehal’s research has focused on data collection and space-making. Through the Residency program with The Theatre Centre, her project The Observer Effect turns that interest in surveillance back on the audience, and asks us whether we really know what happens to our data. 

The Observer Effect follows an urban history tour set 14 years into Toronto’s future, commemorating 2028 riots against the city’s creation of a biometric database, which tour-goers soon realize was more insidious than official narratives suggest.

Our marketing and communications Intern, Lia Iannarilli, chatted with Nehal to chat more about her project and experience working at The Theatre Centre.

The Theatre Centre (TC): Has coming from a background in environmental journalism and academic research influenced your creative process for this project?

Nehal El-Hadi: Definitely. Everything that I do–even creatively–is very heavily research-informed. The iteration of The Observer Effect that we workshopped a couple of years ago, almost everything in it had happened in the world at some point related to surveillance and technology. What was made-up was the story and the setting. I have a very research-intensive practice, and that comes out of both being a journalist and an academic. 

TC: What is the current status of this project?

Nehal El-Hadi: Right now I am working on a site-specific audio piece. Not being from theatre, I wasn’t necessarily interested in privileging a stage space. What I wanted to do was to have it in public space because of how so much spectacle and performativity is in public space too. 

I wanted to have people have this moment of realization that being in public space meant that they were being surveilled and recorded and monitored and watched. I wanted to have no separation between performer and audience, no separation between performance space and the real world. I wanted that to start challenging people’s idea of what was real and what was orchestrated for the duration of the performance. 

One of the things that went really well [during the workshop] was that the audience members would look around and not know if somebody walking across the square was part of the performance or not. They would start to doubt and question what was happening around them. I wanted to change people’s experience of space, too. I wanted them to, every time they went there, to have it re-enchanted. In the performance that we did, the final moment of it turned the audience into performers in that they walked around the square in protest, so people were now looking at them. 

Nehal talking about The Observer Effect at The Theatre Centre Residency Showings
Photo by Duane Cole

TC: What does the project’s title “The Observer Effect” convey in the broader context of your research into privacy and technology?

Nehal El-Hadi: I grew up in South London and, in the mid ’90s, CCTV was being installed throughout London. I have very strong memories of Oxford Street before the cameras were installed and then what installing the cameras did and how certain aspects of street life were eliminated through surveillance and policing, specifically Black street life. So I knew that surveillance could change the nature of a space. 

Ostensibly, it was for crime fighting, but what it did was make the street more consumptive, less experiential, more generic, less alive. It removed elements of the unexpected, enchantment, [it] became very bland. At the time, I was a young adult, and I didn’t theorize it. I was just like, “oh, it’s not the same anymore.” But that was where I would say my interest in surveillance, in technological surveillance specifically, was piqued. 

The Observer Effect is, in scientific research, how the very act of observing a thing changes the nature of the thing itself. And so with this understanding that we are under constant surveillance, whether we do it consciously or unconsciously, we start adapting our behavior to it. 


TC: How did being conscious of surveillance factor into your conception of the project or what you wanted
The Observer Effect to portray?

Nehal El-Hadi: People are becoming increasingly savvy, but in general, a lot of people, myself included, don’t know what information about them is collected, gathered, stored, and used to inform decisions about [their] life. If you walk down a street in downtown Toronto, you have no idea how many cameras have captured your image. You have security cameras, you have dashboard cams, you have police traffic cameras, you have people just filming and you’re in the background. 

All of that is being gathered. A lot of those are on live feeds. You don’t really know who’s collecting your information, what they’re doing with it. And because of that, I was really curious about what kind of information was being collected, who owned that information, and whether people had access to their own data or not. 

Before I did The Theatre Centre residency, I gave a public talk called Performing the Dataset, and it took from the psychological theory of “acting as if,” which is if you want to be something or if you want to correct a behavior, act as if you are that thing or as if you’ve resolved that behavior. For example, if there was a bus route that was being cut because it was “underutilized,” but communities relied on it, what activists should do is mobilize people to ride that bus to generate the ridership data that would ensure that the route would be kept. 

My argument was that it’s never ever about the information, it’s just used as an excuse. If [the city] wants to cut the route, they’re going to cut the route, regardless of what you do. But if we’re going to believe that these are data-informed decisions, then we should start learning how to perform data that would lead us towards a more just world. 

“I’m seeing that less and less here. There’s less street life, there’s more security. There’s less spontaneity or the possibility of chance encounters.”

Nehal outside in the evening with warm lights shining down on them. She is with actors handing out papers and dressed in protest dark clothing for a workshop presentation of The Observer Effect.

The Observer Effect Workshop Presentation
Photo by 852Tangram

TC: You refer to spaces being de- and re-enchanted. What does that mean to you in terms of re-enchanting places for the audience?

Nehal El-Hadi: It’s about a sense of wonder and curiosity about the world around you. I think that both because of phones… or because of media, people don’t engage in public spaces as much as they used to. They’re not as playful, especially in a place like Lisgar Park, where I spent hours and hours and hours just observing it. [People] go to work, they come back from work, they go out for the evening, they walk their dog. It’s more of a passageway than a destination or a place to hang out and be. 

I found that my own experience of public space was happening less and less. It’s not like in Europe where people go to plazas or they’ll have a pint after work on the sidewalk, and they occupy and live in space in a very different way. I’m seeing that less and less here. There’s less street life, there’s more security. There’s less spontaneity or the possibility of chance encounters. I wanted people to experience public life as something that could be really provocative of curiosity, that a public space that people just crisscross through could hold stories that could invite them to notice things, that there’s so much to just look at and watch and witness. 

TC: You’ve mentioned that theatre is out of your comfort zone. How have you found adapting your creative process coming from a journalistic or academic background?

Nehal El-Hadi: I think that where it has pushed me the farthest is that there’s so many other people to consider in theatre. You have your performers, of course, but then you also have everybody who’s supporting it. And then you also have to consider your audiences, what you’re saying, getting across. Are you able to communicate it to your performers? Are you able to communicate it to your directors? Are you able to communicate it to all of the supporting technicians and stage managers and costume designers? You have to communicate the same idea over and over and over again. I think that what I’ve learned is that for you to be able to do that successfully, you have to be so clear in a way that no other medium that I have worked in has ever demanded of me. 

Performers gathered around a woman wearing a mask covering half her face who is speaking to the group in an open space during the evening as the sun is setting.

The Observer Effect Workshop Presentation
Photo by 852Tangram

Nehal speaking to performers - it is night time and they are lit only by the streetlights during a workshop performance of The Observer Effect.

The Observer Effect Workshop Presentation
Photo by 852Tangram

Any thoughts about what you’d like to pursue going forward?

Nehal El-Hadi: Now what I’m working on is kind of pushing it more into the realm of speculation. Whereas [The Observer Effect] was really, really research informed, my next question is what happens to all of this information? 

Let’s say the database happened and biometric data was collected, so you have all of this information for 3 million people. You have their genetic data, you have their health data, you have their education data, you have their insurance data, you have their police data. What if all of these data sets are brought together? Now, everything is correlated and it’s being sold. 

One of the other things that’s happening right now is the conversations about AI becoming sentient. So what happens if there is an AI that becomes sentient where the data set it’s built on is all of the information about people in Toronto. What would that AI say if it were to tell a story? What and how would it do it? 

One of the comments, and it’s a very, very valid one, was, why is [The Observer Effect] set in the future, if everything in it has already happened? Why are we dealing with the future? Why is it not in the now? The technology changes so quickly that when I started this [project], it was futuristic. And now it’s almost historical. So then how do I make it relevant? How do I not date it? These are all questions that I’m thinking about. But in the meantime, I’m like, if this happened, if an AI gained sentience, what would Toronto’s AI identity be? And that’s been such a fun and generative question to ask. 

The Theatre Centre Residency Artists at our 2025 Residency Artist Intake. Photo by Jae Yang.

The Theatre Centre’s Residency Program is generously supported by:

BMO