Shortis & Simpson: Topical Heatwave at the Kurrajong Hotel. Supper and show, Friday nights only, June 28 - July 26, 9pm (show starts 9.15).
You thought it was Red Nose Day last week, but no ... Brown Nose Day was celebrated on Friday night with a twinge of Texan hoe-down, performed by Markie Latham's favourite dancer at the White House. Markie himself came in for a bit of stick, to the tune of Little Peter Rabbit, flip-flapping in a conflict situation with a certain Tony Abbott. This involved the audience singing along with actions, of course. Typical Shortis & Simpson lampooning - all good fun so long as you don't take your politics too seriously.
Yet this entertaining 2002 contribution to the Shortis & Simpson tradition of annual political commentary to mark the winter recess of Parliament includes a genuinely affecting song of an asylum seeker which begins "He could have been a doctor in Afghanistan..." In the form of a folk revival song, this one would be well worth recording.
And, for an encore in the Chifley Restaurant, the song of the Death of Chifley is full of irony in today's political scene. Could Howard sincerely say of a political opponent as Menzies did of Chifley: "He was a great friend of mine, and of yours. A True Australian." This to an audience of mixed political persuasions. And where does Mark Latham stand, talking on television of how he hates the other side?
Though S&S talk of satire in their show, most of the humour is too light for such a bite. It's the serious numbers which crunch. They're the ones you remember next day, as you realise how Australia is losing its tolerance in a relaxed and comfortable political fog.
Other images do remain, though. The encouragement of women parliamentarians to build a 100 cubicle toilet block for women (since Old Parliament House had no women's toilets when women finally got there in 1943). John Gorton, besotted with drink and Gotto, singing his version of "I did it my way" on his death bed. And the big question for Brown Nose Day: "I want to know how Jeanette got him through (US) customs in his pet box?"
And the International Hotel School's supper was very nice too.
© Frank McKone, Canberra
Saturday, 29 June 2002
Friday, 28 June 2002
2002: Fame: The Musical
Fame: The Musical. Conceived by David De Silva, book by Jose Fernandez, lyrics by Jacques Levy, music by Steve Margoshes. G-String Productions at The Street Theatre June 27-? 8pm.
The 4 actors I think would have passed in Fame School are Renay Hart as Mabel Washington, Carrol Oormilla as Miss Sherman, Roxane Ruse as Serena Katz and Jessica Taylor as Carmen Diaz. Now I've offended the other 26, let me say that this production of a peculiarly difficult example of musical theatre rocks and rolls along very nicely. On opening night the actors had a strong sense of working together and the orchestra was excellent (plus terrific drumming by Olivia Harkin as Grace 'Lambchops' Lamb) and a good time was had by all on and off the stage.
Fame is, of course, a nightmare for non- or semi-professionals because the student characters are supposed to be young, full of themselves and untrained, but the acting, singing, dancing and musicianship required to create these characters on stage convincingly has to be top-notch. In addition, the script focusses too briefly on too many characters, so making each character stand out requires a high degree of stage presence. This is the quality that each of my 'cum laude' actors had: you felt you had to watch them.
Musical theatre has begun to take its own place in theatre training in recent times. As standards inevitably rise, community based companies like G-String will need to work at higher level skills on stage and improving technical standards. In this show dance and choreography needed to be much more vibrant and original. I hope real New Yorkers close their eyes for the Dancin' on the Sidewalk number. Not all the singing was strong and precisely pitched, and only some numbers were arranged with really dramatic harmonies and cross-rhythms which are essential to American culture. Sound quality has to be a problem when every actor and musician is miked and there is no way enough money for top of the line equipment. Fortunately Chris Neal did well to listen to the flat quality in the first half and get much better definition of the voices for the second half on opening night.
But ignore my quibbles: go for Fame and enjoy.
© Frank McKone, Canberra
The 4 actors I think would have passed in Fame School are Renay Hart as Mabel Washington, Carrol Oormilla as Miss Sherman, Roxane Ruse as Serena Katz and Jessica Taylor as Carmen Diaz. Now I've offended the other 26, let me say that this production of a peculiarly difficult example of musical theatre rocks and rolls along very nicely. On opening night the actors had a strong sense of working together and the orchestra was excellent (plus terrific drumming by Olivia Harkin as Grace 'Lambchops' Lamb) and a good time was had by all on and off the stage.
Fame is, of course, a nightmare for non- or semi-professionals because the student characters are supposed to be young, full of themselves and untrained, but the acting, singing, dancing and musicianship required to create these characters on stage convincingly has to be top-notch. In addition, the script focusses too briefly on too many characters, so making each character stand out requires a high degree of stage presence. This is the quality that each of my 'cum laude' actors had: you felt you had to watch them.
Musical theatre has begun to take its own place in theatre training in recent times. As standards inevitably rise, community based companies like G-String will need to work at higher level skills on stage and improving technical standards. In this show dance and choreography needed to be much more vibrant and original. I hope real New Yorkers close their eyes for the Dancin' on the Sidewalk number. Not all the singing was strong and precisely pitched, and only some numbers were arranged with really dramatic harmonies and cross-rhythms which are essential to American culture. Sound quality has to be a problem when every actor and musician is miked and there is no way enough money for top of the line equipment. Fortunately Chris Neal did well to listen to the flat quality in the first half and get much better definition of the voices for the second half on opening night.
But ignore my quibbles: go for Fame and enjoy.
© Frank McKone, Canberra
Wednesday, 26 June 2002
2002: 2 Pianos 4 Hands - A Play on Music by Ted Dykstra & Richard Greenblatt.
2 Pianos 4 Hands - A Play on Music by Ted Dykstra & Richard Greenblatt. Directed by Ted Dykstra. Associate Director (Australia), David Lynch. StageWorks in association with Black Swan Theatre. Canberra Playhouse June 25-29 8pm.
This is an autobiographical story of the failure of Canadians Dykstra and Greenblatt to become the great world-renowned pianists that their fathers planned for them. Fortunately the authors have a largely comic view of their lives, becoming successful actors and directors, including playing themselves in this 90 minute two hander.
For the Australian tour, the only two actors who were available and could match the piano playing skills required were Edward Simpson, playing Ted, and Jonathan Gavin as Richard. Both are excellent. Producer Tony Reagan is still keeping his fingers crossed against sickness and accident after 2 years with the show.
2 Pianos is like a concert production of a play. 2 grand pianos are the focus of a simple set with 2 back lit screens. All the characters - Ted, Richard, their parents, and a myriad of piano teachers and examiners - are played by the actor-pianists in an episodic series of vignettes, smoothly strung together without the need for scene or costume changing. Each scene has its appropriate solo and duo piano performance with Bach before and after a bewildering array of classical and pop pieces.
While the characters were still young children, the mixed music somehow reminded me of the comic orchestral concerts put on by Gerard Hoffnung (many decades ago). I began to think that music as the light fantastic was as much as the show would offer. But when it came to the scenes in which each young man, at the age of 17 or so, was confronted by the truth that though they were talented they simply were not going to make it as concert pianists, I certainly felt for them - and wondered about the rights of well-meaning pushy fathers - at least for a few minutes before light-heartedness took over once more.
Though not a great play, 2 Pianos is a neatly constructed musical comedy of a quite different kind, with instant identification for anyone who has faced an audition and, like most of us, failed to become world-renowned.
© Frank McKone, Canberra
This is an autobiographical story of the failure of Canadians Dykstra and Greenblatt to become the great world-renowned pianists that their fathers planned for them. Fortunately the authors have a largely comic view of their lives, becoming successful actors and directors, including playing themselves in this 90 minute two hander.
For the Australian tour, the only two actors who were available and could match the piano playing skills required were Edward Simpson, playing Ted, and Jonathan Gavin as Richard. Both are excellent. Producer Tony Reagan is still keeping his fingers crossed against sickness and accident after 2 years with the show.
2 Pianos is like a concert production of a play. 2 grand pianos are the focus of a simple set with 2 back lit screens. All the characters - Ted, Richard, their parents, and a myriad of piano teachers and examiners - are played by the actor-pianists in an episodic series of vignettes, smoothly strung together without the need for scene or costume changing. Each scene has its appropriate solo and duo piano performance with Bach before and after a bewildering array of classical and pop pieces.
While the characters were still young children, the mixed music somehow reminded me of the comic orchestral concerts put on by Gerard Hoffnung (many decades ago). I began to think that music as the light fantastic was as much as the show would offer. But when it came to the scenes in which each young man, at the age of 17 or so, was confronted by the truth that though they were talented they simply were not going to make it as concert pianists, I certainly felt for them - and wondered about the rights of well-meaning pushy fathers - at least for a few minutes before light-heartedness took over once more.
Though not a great play, 2 Pianos is a neatly constructed musical comedy of a quite different kind, with instant identification for anyone who has faced an audition and, like most of us, failed to become world-renowned.
© Frank McKone, Canberra
Thursday, 20 June 2002
2002: One God, Two Salesmen & Three Humans
One God, Two Salesmen & Three Humans. Opiate Productions at The Street Theatre Studio, June 20-29.
Such a rebellious name for such a tame little group of amateur thespians. Opiate - another new theatre group which Canberra seems to spawn every week or two - claim that in November they will put on The Birthday Party by Harold Pinter. Well, they are going to need a lot more theatrical guts and basic skills by then than they presented last Thursday.
The show is in a cabaret format with pre-recorded music (Dave Brubeck, for some odd reason) in between items. There were 3 short plays - Business Lunch by Sean Slater, We Can Get Them For You Wholesale by Neil Gaiman and Man & God, Having a Few Beers & Talking Things Over by Jeffery Scott. I'm guessing that they are all British undergraduate revue items, played here quite nicely. Very pleasantly, in fact. So agreeably indeed that I would like to coin the term Theatre of Innocence for this production.
Though Wholesale was quite a clever script, following the logic of larger sales being cheaper per unit, applied by a company offering to dispose of mammals, including people (finally costing nothing per unit to kill all the world's population), overall rather than an opiate night much of it was soporific. Even live music filling a 30 minute interval in a 90 minute show, quite tunefully done by a group of young men currently called King Prawn & The Seafood Gang - but apparently called something else last week (an in-joke for 2 people in the audience) - only kept me awake because I had a second coffee while they sang.
I suppose I should not expect too much from a group who describe themselves as "a bunch of thespians who like a few laughs, some pretty lights and a good show", but then I only got a few laughs, the lights were very basic, and the show was mildly so-so. Perhaps it's nice not to have to face confrontational theatre, but I would like young bloods to challenge me a little. I shudder when I think of the upcoming Pinter.
© Frank McKone, Canberra
Such a rebellious name for such a tame little group of amateur thespians. Opiate - another new theatre group which Canberra seems to spawn every week or two - claim that in November they will put on The Birthday Party by Harold Pinter. Well, they are going to need a lot more theatrical guts and basic skills by then than they presented last Thursday.
The show is in a cabaret format with pre-recorded music (Dave Brubeck, for some odd reason) in between items. There were 3 short plays - Business Lunch by Sean Slater, We Can Get Them For You Wholesale by Neil Gaiman and Man & God, Having a Few Beers & Talking Things Over by Jeffery Scott. I'm guessing that they are all British undergraduate revue items, played here quite nicely. Very pleasantly, in fact. So agreeably indeed that I would like to coin the term Theatre of Innocence for this production.
Though Wholesale was quite a clever script, following the logic of larger sales being cheaper per unit, applied by a company offering to dispose of mammals, including people (finally costing nothing per unit to kill all the world's population), overall rather than an opiate night much of it was soporific. Even live music filling a 30 minute interval in a 90 minute show, quite tunefully done by a group of young men currently called King Prawn & The Seafood Gang - but apparently called something else last week (an in-joke for 2 people in the audience) - only kept me awake because I had a second coffee while they sang.
I suppose I should not expect too much from a group who describe themselves as "a bunch of thespians who like a few laughs, some pretty lights and a good show", but then I only got a few laughs, the lights were very basic, and the show was mildly so-so. Perhaps it's nice not to have to face confrontational theatre, but I would like young bloods to challenge me a little. I shudder when I think of the upcoming Pinter.
© Frank McKone, Canberra
2002: The Learning Curve by John Foulcher
The Learning Curve based on the poetry collection by John Foulcher. Huitker Movement Theatre (HMT) directed by George Huitker at Theatre 3, June 19-30. Bookings: 6257 1950.
I felt thoroughly immersed in a Barrier Reef night of the big spawn watching this group movement imagist representation of Foulcher's new book of verse, launched just before the show opened last Wednesday. 41 sticky and confrontational poems narrate the life, death and resurrection of a Catholic secondary school, all in 90 minutes.
Life is sex and sexuality, in action and in denial. Death is not only of natural causes, but sometimes the result of human neglect and macho stupidity. As a cynical atheist from way back, I really had to wonder why anyone bothers about God's intentions any more in the face of the fact of our animal nature and the regular tragedy of death.
I noted that a joke by one teacher about leaving the Church and going over to the Anglicans received a roar of laughter. Huitker, Foulcher and HMT cast, crew and front-of-house are closely connected with Radford College. Does this mean that the school represented on stage is a satire at one remove from the daily experiences of staff and students in this apparently upright College, with its neat uniforms and landscaped grounds next door to the University? I just wondered.
From a theatrical viewpoint, Huitker's work in choreographing the movement and creating imagery seems to me too constrained by the need to maintain the narrative. Perhaps he should now move out into a wider theatrical scene. His work is interesting, often original, but needs more discipline of form if it is to match the best professional work we nowadays often see around Australia.
For example, I would love to see Huitker spend some time with, say, Bangarra Dance Company: then I think we would see a shift into stronger allegorical and interpretative movement, where narrative and emotional messages meld. In The Learning Curve it is Foulcher's writing which holds the piece together, and the performance is well worth seeing as a result. But there is more to come from HMT, I hope.
© Frank McKone, Canberra
I felt thoroughly immersed in a Barrier Reef night of the big spawn watching this group movement imagist representation of Foulcher's new book of verse, launched just before the show opened last Wednesday. 41 sticky and confrontational poems narrate the life, death and resurrection of a Catholic secondary school, all in 90 minutes.
Life is sex and sexuality, in action and in denial. Death is not only of natural causes, but sometimes the result of human neglect and macho stupidity. As a cynical atheist from way back, I really had to wonder why anyone bothers about God's intentions any more in the face of the fact of our animal nature and the regular tragedy of death.
I noted that a joke by one teacher about leaving the Church and going over to the Anglicans received a roar of laughter. Huitker, Foulcher and HMT cast, crew and front-of-house are closely connected with Radford College. Does this mean that the school represented on stage is a satire at one remove from the daily experiences of staff and students in this apparently upright College, with its neat uniforms and landscaped grounds next door to the University? I just wondered.
From a theatrical viewpoint, Huitker's work in choreographing the movement and creating imagery seems to me too constrained by the need to maintain the narrative. Perhaps he should now move out into a wider theatrical scene. His work is interesting, often original, but needs more discipline of form if it is to match the best professional work we nowadays often see around Australia.
For example, I would love to see Huitker spend some time with, say, Bangarra Dance Company: then I think we would see a shift into stronger allegorical and interpretative movement, where narrative and emotional messages meld. In The Learning Curve it is Foulcher's writing which holds the piece together, and the performance is well worth seeing as a result. But there is more to come from HMT, I hope.
© Frank McKone, Canberra
Saturday, 15 June 2002
2002: 28th Old Time Music Hall 2002
THEATRE BY FRANK McKONE (DINKUS)
28th Old Time Music Hall 2002. Canberra Repertory at The Playhouse, June 13-22, 8pm.
Director Cathie Clelland and choreographer Katelyn Keys have dragged this show into the modern world this year - a bit of a worry because it might go on for another 28 years.
Music Hall is an annual ritual which at times in the past has been both a pale imitation of the original specifically English genre, and also too close to the sexism and sentimentality of a century ago. This year's show deftly fillets the sexist bones from the traditional material, and surprisingly achieves genuine sentiment. A highlight is the presentation of the song Broken Doll by Julie McElhone Hayes as a puppet. "You made me think you loved me in return: / Don't tell me you were fooling after all! / For if you turn away, you'll be sorry some day / You left behind a broken doll" was so quietly and poignantly sung, with strings attached, that no man in the audience could sit there unashamed.
It was good to see the multicultural section - an ethnic Aussie dance scene, The Snake Gully Swagger, with embarrassing reminders for me of the Tibooburra Hospital Ball circa 1963, where the band consisted of piano, trumpet and drums and every dance was played in 3/4 time. The sense of fun, irony and even true satire has filled in all the gaps of Music Hall as I've experienced it before, and indeed the rendition late in the show of musical director Andrew Kay's The Bliss of the Backyard Burkes showed that satirical commentary on our present lives is more than acceptable in this almost ceremonial event. The representation of Parliament House as the one feature which broke the prime rule of Marion and Walter that nothing should be built on hills, topped by an amazing tableau revealing a definitely loopy National Museum drew perhaps the most enthusiastic response of the audience on Friday.
The band has also expanded: piano, piano and drums. But unlike my Tibooburra friends, Pauline Sweeney, Andrew Kay and Dick Cutler are wonderful musicians and have the acoustics of the Playhouse completely under control. Even through my ageing tinnitus I could hear every singer clearly.
An excellent entertainment this year, already well-booked for the season.
© Frank McKone, Canberra
28th Old Time Music Hall 2002. Canberra Repertory at The Playhouse, June 13-22, 8pm.
Director Cathie Clelland and choreographer Katelyn Keys have dragged this show into the modern world this year - a bit of a worry because it might go on for another 28 years.
Music Hall is an annual ritual which at times in the past has been both a pale imitation of the original specifically English genre, and also too close to the sexism and sentimentality of a century ago. This year's show deftly fillets the sexist bones from the traditional material, and surprisingly achieves genuine sentiment. A highlight is the presentation of the song Broken Doll by Julie McElhone Hayes as a puppet. "You made me think you loved me in return: / Don't tell me you were fooling after all! / For if you turn away, you'll be sorry some day / You left behind a broken doll" was so quietly and poignantly sung, with strings attached, that no man in the audience could sit there unashamed.
It was good to see the multicultural section - an ethnic Aussie dance scene, The Snake Gully Swagger, with embarrassing reminders for me of the Tibooburra Hospital Ball circa 1963, where the band consisted of piano, trumpet and drums and every dance was played in 3/4 time. The sense of fun, irony and even true satire has filled in all the gaps of Music Hall as I've experienced it before, and indeed the rendition late in the show of musical director Andrew Kay's The Bliss of the Backyard Burkes showed that satirical commentary on our present lives is more than acceptable in this almost ceremonial event. The representation of Parliament House as the one feature which broke the prime rule of Marion and Walter that nothing should be built on hills, topped by an amazing tableau revealing a definitely loopy National Museum drew perhaps the most enthusiastic response of the audience on Friday.
The band has also expanded: piano, piano and drums. But unlike my Tibooburra friends, Pauline Sweeney, Andrew Kay and Dick Cutler are wonderful musicians and have the acoustics of the Playhouse completely under control. Even through my ageing tinnitus I could hear every singer clearly.
An excellent entertainment this year, already well-booked for the season.
© Frank McKone, Canberra
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