Babz Chula Lifeline for Artists Society

Babz Memorial Story on Global TV

Babz Chula — Tue, 25 May 2010 05:48:11 +0000

This story originally aired on May 23, 2010.

Photos from Babz’ Celebration of Life

Babz Chula — Mon, 24 May 2010 03:41:29 +0000

Photos from Babz Chula’s Celebration of Life, May 23, 2010.
All photos by Wendy D Photography.

An open letter from Babz Chula

Babz Chula — Mon, 24 May 2010 01:27:11 +0000

This letter from Babz was read today at the end of her Celebration of Life. Copies of it were handed out to those that attended.

One thing is for certain: There is great opportunity in this situation. For in the darkest depths somehow the human spirit emerges warrior-like and there is warmth, and humour, and curiosity. The fear retreats. This is how the warrior wins.

In this challenge lives a connection to people everywhere. A connection to their suffering. To the lonely senior citizen who has outlived a family. To the starving child on a dirt floor, and to the young man who squandered the life before him. To the broken hearted and the fearful. To the depressed and disillusioned.

We all deserve to survive. We all deserve to live. We all deserve tobe cradled in loving kindness. And there are no guarantees, no deals or negotiations that can be made. Not one of us has any more
knowledge of the “mystery”. We are all naked and alone.

I feel so lucky to know that. To really know that. There is huge relief in finally surrendering to something greater than myself. To know that I will breathe in and breathe out and breathe in and breathe out until the moment when I do not breathe in again. At that moment I will begin a new adventure.

And that is what this is all about for me. I feel not one bit of self pity. I feel lucky, indeed, up lifted by this opportunity. I get to contemplate my death! I get to meditate on the great mystery. On space and
emptiness. On Babz and No Babz.

The opportunity to contemplate my death has always been there. I was just never courageous enough to take it. Too busy. Too fearful. Too full of Babz. Now, I get to think about others. In fact, it is only when I am giving to others that I actually feel free of fear.

Thank you. I am astonished and humbled by your generosity. Please do not forget the other woman. The woman without support and friendship. The man who suffers from loneliness and fear. The people who live on the other side of an abundant life,
such as mine and yours. Please remember that they need our help, too.

If there is any curiosity about the alternative treatments that I am receiving, or the path of integrated healing, I urge you to get a message to me, and I will give you as much information as I can…or go to the websites and phone numbers of the practitioners on my treatment plan and they will fill you in. Take control of your healing. Ask questions of your practitioners. Demand information. There is power in knowledge.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about Death. Not in a morbid way. It’s more like contemplation.

Three years ago my dear friend, and the father of my children, died in our arms. The arms of his family. It was an ordinary moment, wasn’t it? Isn’t death the most ordinary of events? Why, then, did it feel so extraordinary? Why, then, is the moment of Philip’s passing so embedded in my mind..my heart? Why was its effect transforming? To me. To our children.

Mystery. I think it is the mystery of Life and Death. And the way death informs life. Who we become when all is said and done. I guess I could just as easily say I’ve been thinking a lot lately about Life. But, it’s death that has my thoughts, somehow. I try not to be fearful. It could happen anytime. Cancer or not.

This life has been good to me. I know it’s abundance. I can hardly find a single complaint in my heart. My family. My friends. Even the challenges of life: the career struggles, the financial worries, the dashed hopes and disappointments, the broken hearts, the tears, the fears, seem to me to be opportunities for something…for growth? for wisdom? for understanding? I don’t know. For something. Something good.

Still, there is a troubling in all this abundance. I think it’s anattachment to this big fat gorgeous life. And how could we not be attached? How could anyone look upon a miraculous winter dawning without jaw dropping awe? Or the sound of rain on the roof and the bite of a damp Pacific Northwest morning without wonder at this miracle we are living?

I imagine myself at ninety sitting with my grandchildren and great grandchildren at my feet. We are telling stories. There is laughter. The image is so strong it is palpable. This is how we attach to life. We make up the future and wrestle with the past. And I am hooked in.

So, then, the issue becomes: How do I hold this life lightly in my hands? Gently. How do I prepare to let it go? Gracefully, and with dignity.

It occurred to me recently as I stood on our deck one windy afternoon, letting the cold wind pass over me, that this is Eternal. Eternity is a moment. The moment where one is entirely present. The moment where space becomes something tangible. Something to lean into. A force that holds one gently upright. Where the simple act of breathing in and breathing out occurs in a supremely unconscious moment of trust. A moment taken for granted, really. Of course, as soon as one begins to contemplate this miracle, the moment is lost. Say it ain’t so!

What makes me any more deserving of your support than, say, a dying child on a dirt floor in the Congo, or a freezing homeless man on Main and Hastings? Lots of people get cancer and struggle through it without support. Many people who are sick would like to have alternative treatments to recover from the toxic effects of chemo and go back to work some day. Just because I’m an actor and it may be difficult to find work as a bald, yellow puffy person, does that make me more deserving? Is it Karma? Luck? Do I
have a great work of art still in me? Is there something else I need to do in my life? And so, what?

I only know for myself that there is healing in giving to others. And this disease has given me the gift of
knowing that we are all one Being. Really.

Please remember that other woman, too. You see her everywhere. The one on the other side of an abundant life… who suffers…and weeps and is frightened. Please do not forget that she needs your help as well.

I am astonished and humbled by your generosity. I have a million thoughts about why me? I read the comments you have made in regards to me and my work and I weep with gratitude for at your deference and respect. I think about how artists are devalued in our society, and I think back on the struggles of raising kids with no money, and, yeah, I guess I could complain, but all it makes me think about is how all the adversity in my life made me more creative. More resourceful. I became a more thoughtful person. I
listened more carefully to others. I found that there was joy in a gesture of generosity.

Not always. I was not always so careful. Cancer made me careful. Careful of others.

I am there for you. For every one of you. It has to be that way. This cannot be about me. It must be about all of us, about community, and World. Cancer is the opportunity we’ve been given to all be better at what we do. To be bigger of heart and greater of mind.

Bless you. God bless you all.

Babz Chula

Memorial Services for Babz (from Larry)

Babz Chula — Mon, 17 May 2010 14:17:24 +0000

Most of you know by now that my Barbara Ellen, the incomparable Babz Chula, died from the ravages of cancer on Friday morning, May 7th, at the young age of 63. She fought valiantly; a true warrior. In the end, she faced her moment with the intensity of an actor waiting in the wings to go on stage. She heard her cue, took a deep breath and stepped out into the Mystery. She was valiant and brave to the end. Not fearless, no. Always willing to face her fears, though. She defines courage.

There will be several events celebrating her life and helping to send her along to the right place through prayer and meditation.

On Monday, May 17, there will be a Ceremony of Sukhvati at 4:30PM at the Shambala Buddhist Center at 16th and Heather.

On Saturday, May 22, at 1:30PM Father Pierre Leblond will celebrate a Memorial Mass at St. Mary’s Catholic Church at 5251 Joyce St. All are welcome.

On Sunday, May 23, at 11:30AM, there will be a Memorial service at the Arts Club Theater on Granville Island followed by a semi-private session of music, drink and talk at the Yale Blues Club at 2:00PM.

It would be lovely if as many people as is possible will come celebrate and mourn with her family, friends and colleagues at all of these events. Bless her soul.

Peace,
Larry

A Celebration of Life: Babz Chula

Babz Chula — Sat, 15 May 2010 16:17:06 +0000

There will be a Memorial Mass said for Babz on Saturday, May 22 at 1:30PM at St. Mary’s Catholic Church at 5251 Joyce Street.

A celebration of the life of Babz Chula will be held on Sunday, May 23, at 11:30 am at the Arts Club Mainstage Theatre, 1585 Johnson St, Granville Island, Vancouver. Doors open at 11.
Everyone is welcome, but the number of seats is limited to 440, so we may create a live feed to the lobby if needed.
The memorial service will be followed by an informal gathering in the upper lounge of the theatre, and then an after party, details of which will be announced later. Donations to the Babz Chula Lifeline for Artists Society will be accepted.

Please join us as we send Babz off with a standing ovation.

RSVP

Ben Ratner on CBC Radio

Babz Chula — Sat, 15 May 2010 16:14:54 +0000

Click here to listen to an interview Ben did with Stephen Quinn of The Afternoon Show on Babz.

LISTEN

Goodbye, Babz

Babz Chula — Mon, 10 May 2010 17:52:38 +0000

This article is re-posted, with permission of the author, from The Tyee.

Goodbye, Babz (by Mark Leiren-Young)

Babz Chula was not my first choice for the role of “the protester” in The Green Chain.

I wanted someone with Babz’s warmth, Babz’s politics, Babz’s signature feistiness, Babz’s sense of humour, Babz’s ability to light up a screen and Babz’s passion for small Canadian movies, but I wanted someone… old.

I needed someone old.

I’d never seen Babz look old. I couldn’t imagine her looking old.

I first met Babz when I interviewed her a lifetime ago. We met at her place in Kitsilano. I think she spent most of our visit advising me on the responsibilities she felt came with my job as a theatre critic. I recall her telling me that when she was growing up a neighbour named the Barbie doll after her. That doesn’t seem to be true, but I believed it. Wouldn’t you?

Her circuitous route to BC, and back again

I also learned her story. That she was grew up in New York and Hollywood. She moved to the Kootenays in 1971. In 1977 she went to Hawaii to work as a singer. When she returned to B.C. in the 1980s she made the switch from singing to acting, and to acting and singing.

href="http://ad.thetyee.ca/www/delivery/ck.php?n=ad4fade8&cb=1759393575"
target="_blank"> src="http://ad.thetyee.ca/www/delivery/avw.php?zoneid=45&source=Arts&cb=1759393575&n=ad4fade8"
border="0" alt="" />

I’m pretty sure we were supposed to be talking about Simple Folk — a gem of an event that wasn’t so much a play as Babz sharing a stage with her two friends Morris Panych and Ken Macdonald, swapping stories of their youth and singing songs they loved. I was lucky enough to score tickets to Morris’ and Ken’s first performance of their first play — Last Call — and I’ve been a fan ever since, catching every show of theirs I could. I’ve never seen them in anything else remotely as raw, open and honest as Simple Folk. It felt less like a play than a late night party where all three were slightly buzzed and singing for themselves and each other and anyone else who felt like listening. I always suspected it was Babz who created that vibe, who looked them in the eyes and demanded the truth — not the standard rehearsed, programmed response, the truth — and who drew a vulnerability out of Morris and Ken that translated on stage without the protective covering of their brilliant wit.

I remember Babz showing her sexy, steamy side in Roy Surette’s production of Three Penny Opera at the Firehall Theatre, rocking the house and breaking the theatre’s box office attendance records.

She’d lived the part

I can picture her in role after role in Canadian films, starting with the Can Con classic, My American Cousin. And maybe I saw her play someone subdued at some point. Her imdb.com listing rattles off over a hundred TV and film appearances since then, so she must have. Maybe she was feist-free in one of her guest appearances on a made-in-Vancouver series like The X-Files or The L-Word. But when I flash on images of Babz I picture her giving someone hell, or seducing the pants off some shocked, lucky and delighted younger man.

I picture the fiery red hair.

I see the vibrant smile.

And mostly I hear the infectious laugh and the New Yorky Jewish twang that pierced the auditorium at the Carlu in Toronto as the post-show schmoozing was happening for the 2006 Genie Awards, in which Babz was nominated for her performance in Seven Times Lucky. I hear that voice shouting, “Mark Leiren-Young, what the hell are you doing in Toronto!”

I crossed the room for a hug and she caught me up on her life — and her fights with cancer. She asked what I was up to and I told her about The Green Chain. And when I’d told her the plot she said, “Too bad there’s not a part of me in it. I’m an old hippie logging protester.”

And I wanted to say, “That’s exactly the part I’m trying to cast right now,” but how could I tell her that since she didn’t qualify? Even if she was joking about her age she wasn’t old. But then I took a second look… and after her battles with cancer, after all those rounds of chemo, I thought… she still doesn’t look old to me, but she looks just a bit… tired. And she just offered to be in the movie. She’d won a Gemini, a Leo, Jessies and we were at the Genies. How was this not a good sign?

I wanted to offer her the part on the spot, but I waited to consult with my producers first. Tony Wosk and Donna Wong-Juliani couldn’t have been more thrilled, but Donna asked the same question that had always kept her off my wish list. “Is she old enough?”

“Not really,” I said. “But she’s magic.”

Honoured, and terrified

I emailed Babz the script.

This was her response:

“Yes on all accounts!! A big YESSSSS!!!

“I’ve just printed out the script and have started to carry it around with me so that I can look at it whenever I need to… like when I ‘m waiting for the light to change… while the smoothie is in the blender… when I am on the phone listening to someone ramble on… yeah… uh huh… hmmmmm.

“Will talk to you soon. Heading into another huge week of treatments…new ones. You can find me on my cell. I have surgery on Tuesday… but otherwise my phone is on.

“Surgery, yes. This cancer thing never ends. It is the way you LIVE from now on. WITH cancer. I refuse to die FROM cancer. I will live WITH it. THAT I can do.

“Take care. Be well. Health is Wealth. Love is All.

Barbara”

When I found out The Green Chain was the first job she’d done since she’d come out of this round of treatments, that it was the first acting she’d done since wondering if she’d ever act again, if she’d be healthy enough to act again, I was honoured. And terrified. And wished we had a real budget so we could pay her a lot more.

My film directing experience at that point consisted of having finished the first three monologues in The Green Chain. I was thrilled with the results, but none had been what one would call… quick.

I didn’t know how much energy Babz would have. Neither did she.

I also had one request for Babz. I wanted her to dye her hair grey. She balked. I think she told me she’d done grey before — but only once — and in that role she was supposed to be ancient. As much as I wanted her, it was a deal breaker. I’d always pictured the granny in my movie to be in her seventies and even with all her surgeries and therapies, I didn’t really believe she looked 60.

A lot of people asked if lines in the movie were improvised because there were so many words. Oddly, because there are so many words I think it’s tougher to improvise because then it gets tough to remember the flow. But Babz and I met a few times to cut them, to tweak them, to make them flow and after we discussed the logic and rhythm of every change, those were the lines she delivered. She really wasn’t old enough for the part I imagined. But she was perfect for the part we shaped on her back porch over glasses of herbal iced tea.

‘I am not going to stop’

The day we shot her monologue, she arrived looking as ready as if she’d been acting on this same set every working day for the last six months. It was the fastest, easiest day of filming. I knew it had to be. We’d talked about how many good hours she usually had in her. But I also knew we were done before Babz was wiped out. Although knowing Babz, it’s possible she was wiped out and simply wasn’t willing to let any of us see it.

There was one moment in her performance that gave me chills when I saw it live and still brings me to tears even after seeing it a few hundred times. The interviewer asks her if she’s going to stop fighting now that she’s in jail and at the end of her response, at the end of her monologue, she appears on the verge of tears as she stammers out the words, “No. I am not going to stop. No. You’re not getting rid of me that fast.” Then she stares into the distance. And knowing her real life story there’s no way to watch that moment and not believe she’s talking about the cancers.

I was thrilled that after she did The Green Chain she started acting again. If the only thing the movie did was remind Babz she still had more work to do, more parts to play, that would still have made the whole experience worth it. She won two more Leos for performances she did after our shoot — one for guest starring in the CBC TV series, J-Pod and another for her role in Mothers & Daughters.

Meanwhile, several actors launched “The Babz Chula Lifeline for Artists Society” to help pay for the mix of mainstream and alternative treatments that were allowing Babz to stare down three kinds of cancer. It not only gave the arts community — and audiences — a chance to share their support for someone who was rightly known as western Canada’s Queen of independent movies, but it allowed those of us who loved her to follow her journey as she reported in on her progress and her healing trip to India.

After The Green Chain hit the festival circuit, Babz was willing to promote it and show up for it like she was a producer and, unlike the real producers on the movie, actually making money from it.

Babz was the first one with hugs and congrats for everyone at the cast and crew screening. She was there at the opening in Vancouver, staying after the show for the question and answer session. During our Vancouver run at the Fifth Avenue Cinemas, Babz even made time for a series of interviews where she talked about our movie and her cancers.

Surrounded by fans

The last time I saw Babz was at a Vancouver Film Fest gala. As Babz held court leaning against a pillar in the hall outside the party, she talked matter-of-factly about how another of the cancers had returned. She talked so matter-of-factly it sounded like she was going to be okay. I turned to her husband, cinematographer, Larry Lynn, and he told me that this time the cancer had the edge — but Babz wasn’t giving up easily. And seeing her response to critical illness, talking to her about death and life, made it impossible not to appreciate life a lot more and fear death a little less.

On Friday, May 7, eight years after being told she had only a few months to live, cancer finally took Babz from us.

I know she got tired.

I know she’s finally left us.

But I won’t believe she ever got old.

“Take care. Be well. Health is Wealth. Love is All.”

A memorial will be held for Babz Chula on May 23 at the Arts Club on Granville Island. The Babz Chula Lifeline Society will live on in her memory, collecting money to help other artists survive their battles to recover from accidents and illness. Babz is survived by her husband, cinematographer Larry Lynn, sons Aviv and Orpheo Ciulla and daughter Jordana Citrano, stepdaughters Electra and Emily VanderShee, and four grandchildren.

Mark Leiren-Young is the writer and director of the widely praised The Green Chain. Mark’s also a regular contributor to The Tyee. For more on Mark, visit his website.

Babz Chula Passes Away

Babz Chula — Sat, 08 May 2010 20:24:10 +0000

It is with great sadness that we announce the passing of beloved Vancouver actor, Babz Chula. Ms. Chula was a multiple-award winning actor of stage, screen and television. She has been fighting two forms of cancer since 2002, and on May 7th, 2010 she passed away at home, surrounded by her family.

Ms. Chula was born in Springfield, MA, the eldest daughter of an amateur actress. She went on to a singing career with the band “Streethearts,” and starred in The Vancouver Opera’s Threepenny Opera. She had regular and leading roles in Vancouver-shot television series like Madison, The Commish, Cold Squad, and These Arms of Mine (which netted her a Gemini Award). The queen of independent film, her credits include: Bruce Sweeny’s Dirty, Live Bait, and Last Wedding, Ben Ratner’s Moving Malcolm, and Carl Bassai’s Mothers and Daughters (which won her a Leo Award), and Fathers and Sons (which is yet to be released).

Ms. Chula was first diagnosed with Breast Cancer in 2002, and in 2005, was diagnosed with a rare form of blood cancer. She beat the Breast Cancer for several years, but in 2008, learned that it had returned. At that time, a group of her friends formed The Babz Chula Lifeline for Artists Society, ostensibly to help with Babz’ medical expenses, but it was always her wish that the Society become her legacy. Recently, the Society has undergone changes to allow it to support other artists. Ms. Chula continued to work during her Cancer treatment, which encompassed traditional and alternative healing methods. She recently returned from an Ayurvedic healing centre in India, where she had spent 6 weeks with her friend, filmmaker Anne Wheeler, who filmed the process for an upcoming documentary about Babz’ journey.

Ben Ratner was Babz Chula’s close personal friend and colleague, and president of The Babz Chula Lifeline for Artists Society. “Babz and her family are deeply grateful for the love and generosity the community showed her throughout her illness. Though we have lost a true artist, friend, mentor, and matriarch, our beloved Babz will never be forgotten.”

“She died like she lived; with dignity, grace, and humour,” says Babz’ son, Aviv, on behalf of the family. “We thank her for being an inspiration, and she will be greatly missed and loved forever.”

Ms. Chula is survived by her husband, Larry Lynn, her children Jordana, Aviv, and Orpheo, and her grandchildren Mason, Devon, Jake, and Kyler.

There will be a memorial service to celebrate Ms. Chula’s life on Sunday, May 23 at the Arts Club Theatre on Granville Island. In lieu of flowers, the family requests that donations be made to The Babz Chula Lifeline for Artists Society: www.babzchulasociety.org.

Babz Chula on The Express

Babz Chula — Tue, 23 Feb 2010 22:34:29 +0000

Update from India, Feb 13

Babz Chula — Sat, 13 Feb 2010 22:23:19 +0000

When I left Vancouver my feet were swollen to twice their size and I could not walk without my cane. I a so full of vitality and strength right now that I can’t wait to return to Vancouver and the West End and Stanley Park. I will be walking around the Lagoon if you are looking for me… jogging, even.

It remains to be seen as to whether or not my numbers match up with how I am feeling, but hopefully they will reflect my current state of mind and the cancer will be under some kind of control.

Tomorrow we leave Sreedhari and go o Cochin for six days. Anne and I intend to have manicures and pedicures and to get in some shopping therapy. On the brochure for Sreedhari they refer to us as, “inmates”. No kidding. We feel like we are escaping.

I will try to blog from Cochin in a few days, but so far this looks like it may be my last entry until I return to Vancouver where the Winter Olympcs are taking place so be patient with me and wait for the wrap up to this most amazing adventure. Ah…India. Once she touches your heart it is forever. My love to you all. I am soon to be home where I will hug you all.

–Babz

PS. WE WATCHED THE OPENING CEREMONIES FROM ACROSS THE WORLD THIS MORNING. HOW FANTASTIC IT WAS TO BE THERE IN VAN WITH ALL OF YOU. INDIA TO HOME…WE LOVE YOU!!