My Generation by William Yang. Spoken word and image projection, with music by Daniel Holdsworth. National Portrait Gallery, December 4,5, 9, 10 12 at 6pm; December 11 at 4pm; Saturday December 6 at 12.30pm; Sunday December 7 and Saturday December 13 at 12.30pm and 6pm. Tickets: $15 / $8 Friends and Concessions. Bookings: 6102 7070.
"My photographs are like the children I never had. They will tell my stories when I am gone."
William Yang's career as a freelance photographer of the Sydney arts and gay scene began in the early 1970s. By the late 1980s he had established his particular style of photography to the extent that he no longer had to rely on finding work at the beck and call of magazine and newspaper editors. He became free to continue and develop his visual record of the lives of people like Kate Fitzpatrick, Robyn Nevin, Rex Cramphorn, Jim Sharman, Brett Whiteley, Martin Sharp, Patrick White, the fashion duo Jenny Kee and Linda Jackson, and many more.
Yang's performance is far more than an entertaining slide show of wild parties taken to excess. Though he was there, "with a glass of champagne in one hand and a camera in the other", a participant who came out of isolation as a gay man in Brisbane into the social explosion which became the Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras, amongst an extraordinary set of actors, theatre directors, painters, sculptors and fashion designers, he shows us how "my camera protected me". His skill is not only in creating photographs which bring all those people's lives into our consciousness, but in being a quiet observer whom people could trust. His photographs tell their stories, with humour and sensitivity, when many of them have gone.
I had already found myself at the new National Portrait Gallery talking to a very different performer and portrait artist, Rolf Harris, about how he feels when performing on stage. Do we see the real Rolf Harris or a character he creates? This led to his appearance on Andrew Denton's Enough Rope, where he said he felt embarrassed when emotion overcame him, while we viewers felt we had seen the real person. In painting a portrait, Harris tries to create an image of the real person behind the picture. I realised, watching Yang, that he does the same. His photographs capture the images of people. His words, and Holdsworth's live music, tell us the stories behind the pictures, bringing out the emotions and building over 90 minutes our understanding not only of the people in his photos but of William Yang himself.
We see a man proud of his children, unsure when they were young of how they might turn out, elated when they grew to maturity, and satisfied looking over them now after some 35 years, confident that they will indeed tell his stories with truth and feeling. Yang has created a work of art, using the photographs as elements in an unfolding story. Because it is true to life and deals explicitly with the human body, drug taking and death, alongside beauty, enjoyment and achievement, My Generation is not a show for children.
But for the National Portrait Gallery, My Generation is an artistic triumph to start the career of the new building, full of light, with stories to tell through portraits of all kinds of Australians, from Rolf Harris to William Yang, from Captain Cook to Eddie Mabo. Take the children through the exhibitions with a free iPod video guide (they'll show you how to use it), but also take the opportunity to experience My Generation.
©Frank McKone, Canberra
Thursday 4 December 2008
Thursday 13 November 2008
2008: Bill of Writes - short plays by ACT Region Playwrights
Bill of Writes - short plays by ACT Region Playwrights: Christmas Hijinks by Bill Fleming, Alert by Jim Jones, Lifting Lucy by Eris Jane, Sweet Labrador by Noeline Milson, Smoking Kills by Joan McGillivray and Blue Italian by Katie Pollock. Part of the Made in Canberra season at The Street Theatre, November 12-15, 7.30pm
To review these plays in a competitive way would do an injustice to the work of the ACT Writers' Centre (www.actwriters.org.au) which hosts the ACT Region Playwrights group. The Centre's purpose is to positively assist writers, and these six have produced an interesting evening of local works.
It's best, I think, to imagine being at a wine tasting evening, sampling offerings from six different boutique winemakers. Not only are the grape varieties and characteristics varied, but so too are the techniques of each vintner.
Christmas Hijinks is a little sparkling riesling, on the political nose. Though somewhat conventional in style, it is well-structured, but could do with a little more satirical subtlety.
Alert is a light red with some black current undertones. The grapes come from terroir on the shady side of a cold country hill, yet the aftertaste is entirely satisfying.
Lifting Lucy is a surprising wine on the rise, a powerful shiraz which creates expectations of normality, only to be dashed with tart explosions of truth. This is a wine of strong characters, none of them sweet, which clash rather than blend. An exciting product which might not be appreciated by traditionalists.
Sweet Labrador, in contrast, humours the palate with an old-fashioned moselle, cleverly building a small storm of raspberry and blackberry flavours which settle back into yellow sunshine colours to finish.
Smoking Kills is a dry pinot gris with unusual sharp blades, making us wonder if the finish must pall. But somehow the final swallow is rich in a flavour that almost bashes one over the head. The contrast just makes us laugh out loud.
Finally, and I must say most to my taste, is a lovely long-lasting full-flavoured blend of reds. Blue Italian crosses European and Australian traditions, travelling over the tongue, warming the throat until it becomes a metaphor for everyone's lifetime search for a place to call home. Drink this wine in as you would a poem, modern in form but universal in impact. The aftertaste is indeed blue in feeling, reflective and just the wine to finish a very worthwhile evening's experience.
©Frank McKone, Canberra
To review these plays in a competitive way would do an injustice to the work of the ACT Writers' Centre (www.actwriters.org.au) which hosts the ACT Region Playwrights group. The Centre's purpose is to positively assist writers, and these six have produced an interesting evening of local works.
It's best, I think, to imagine being at a wine tasting evening, sampling offerings from six different boutique winemakers. Not only are the grape varieties and characteristics varied, but so too are the techniques of each vintner.
Christmas Hijinks is a little sparkling riesling, on the political nose. Though somewhat conventional in style, it is well-structured, but could do with a little more satirical subtlety.
Alert is a light red with some black current undertones. The grapes come from terroir on the shady side of a cold country hill, yet the aftertaste is entirely satisfying.
Lifting Lucy is a surprising wine on the rise, a powerful shiraz which creates expectations of normality, only to be dashed with tart explosions of truth. This is a wine of strong characters, none of them sweet, which clash rather than blend. An exciting product which might not be appreciated by traditionalists.
Sweet Labrador, in contrast, humours the palate with an old-fashioned moselle, cleverly building a small storm of raspberry and blackberry flavours which settle back into yellow sunshine colours to finish.
Smoking Kills is a dry pinot gris with unusual sharp blades, making us wonder if the finish must pall. But somehow the final swallow is rich in a flavour that almost bashes one over the head. The contrast just makes us laugh out loud.
Finally, and I must say most to my taste, is a lovely long-lasting full-flavoured blend of reds. Blue Italian crosses European and Australian traditions, travelling over the tongue, warming the throat until it becomes a metaphor for everyone's lifetime search for a place to call home. Drink this wine in as you would a poem, modern in form but universal in impact. The aftertaste is indeed blue in feeling, reflective and just the wine to finish a very worthwhile evening's experience.
©Frank McKone, Canberra
Thursday 6 November 2008
2008: Unspoken by Rebecca Clarke
Unspoken by Rebecca Clarke. ANU Drama Department at The Street Theatre 2, directed by Catherine Mann. November 6-8, 7.30pm
It is a bitter-sweet irony that this 45 minute speech should be titled Unspoken. Originally a monologue, here the young woman who speaks to us about her childhood, her parents, her disabled brother, her falling in love and her coming to terms with the end of self-centred childishness, is presented by three young women - Lucy Hancock, Nicole Kerr and Isobel Nye.
The story itself is bitter-sweet. Teenage desire for sex lacks long-term fulfillment, while refusal to accept her younger sibling churns through feelings of guilt, becoming love at the point of his early death. At the age of these actors, this young woman grows up. The irony is that only as she becomes fully independent emotionally does she appreciate and feel real love for someone else. What had been spoken was a self-indulgent failure to understand. Talk is now no longer necessary.
I felt that Mann chose the right approach in not attempting a solo performance. ANU Drama is not a fully-fledged actor training course, and much more was gained by these three students as the light and shade of the words could be found in their three different voices, and movement could be choreographed, often showing us the conflicting feelings within the one character. The result is a kind of tone poem with a light touch and makes an engaging experience.
Rebecca Clarke trained under Peter Lavery at QUT, is already a published writer and successful actor and is obviously one to watch out for. This script shows promise of greater work to come.
©Frank McKone, Canberra
It is a bitter-sweet irony that this 45 minute speech should be titled Unspoken. Originally a monologue, here the young woman who speaks to us about her childhood, her parents, her disabled brother, her falling in love and her coming to terms with the end of self-centred childishness, is presented by three young women - Lucy Hancock, Nicole Kerr and Isobel Nye.
The story itself is bitter-sweet. Teenage desire for sex lacks long-term fulfillment, while refusal to accept her younger sibling churns through feelings of guilt, becoming love at the point of his early death. At the age of these actors, this young woman grows up. The irony is that only as she becomes fully independent emotionally does she appreciate and feel real love for someone else. What had been spoken was a self-indulgent failure to understand. Talk is now no longer necessary.
I felt that Mann chose the right approach in not attempting a solo performance. ANU Drama is not a fully-fledged actor training course, and much more was gained by these three students as the light and shade of the words could be found in their three different voices, and movement could be choreographed, often showing us the conflicting feelings within the one character. The result is a kind of tone poem with a light touch and makes an engaging experience.
Rebecca Clarke trained under Peter Lavery at QUT, is already a published writer and successful actor and is obviously one to watch out for. This script shows promise of greater work to come.
©Frank McKone, Canberra
Monday 20 October 2008
2008: Travelling North by David Williamson
Travelling North by David Williamson. Presented by Christine Harris and HIT Productions, directed by Bruce Myles. Tuggeranong Arts Centre, October 20 and 21.
After 30 years this play, and particularly this production, travels well. Myles' direction suits this small-scale venue, bringing out qualities of character and personal relationships more successfully than I remember from early productions on larger stages where Williamson's one-liners were funny but less engaging.
Perhaps, too, Williamson, still in his thirties when he wrote the play, focussed on his wit, while writing a study of a later-life love affair which now resonates with an audience like me - and him - in our sixties. Now the comic lines contrast with and highlight the seriousness of weaknesses the older couple see in themselves when they reflect on their lives, and when we see the failed states of their childrens' marriages.
All the cast - Sandy Gore (Frances), Terence Donovan (Frank), Shelly Lauman and Kate Cole (Frances' daughters Sophie and Helen), Elizabeth Slattery (Frank's daughter Joan), Ross Thompson (neighbour Freddy) and Lewis Fiander (Frank's doctor Saul) - work as a team of equals in creating a complex emotional interplay which is a drama of considerable depth. The political and gender issues which generated almost gratuitous laughs three decades ago are now placed in context as aspects of the personal histories of these characters. The play, set in 1972 as the Vietnam War still dragged on and Gough Whitlam was about to win government, is tied to its time but is not dated. The characters' histories are now part of all of our history.
An interesting sidelight on the play is that it makes us realise how much communication has changed since the internet has become essential to our lives. Yet the fundamentals of personal relationships stay the same.
The audience's sustained applause on opening night expressed our appreciation not only for the skills of the director and actors but, I think, for a production which brought the best out of Williamson. Very satisfying.
Tuggeranong Arts Centre should be congratulated for engaging HIT productions, who plan a further tour of Travelling North in 2009. If you have missed it this time around, try to catch it next time.
©Frank McKone, Canberra
After 30 years this play, and particularly this production, travels well. Myles' direction suits this small-scale venue, bringing out qualities of character and personal relationships more successfully than I remember from early productions on larger stages where Williamson's one-liners were funny but less engaging.
Perhaps, too, Williamson, still in his thirties when he wrote the play, focussed on his wit, while writing a study of a later-life love affair which now resonates with an audience like me - and him - in our sixties. Now the comic lines contrast with and highlight the seriousness of weaknesses the older couple see in themselves when they reflect on their lives, and when we see the failed states of their childrens' marriages.
All the cast - Sandy Gore (Frances), Terence Donovan (Frank), Shelly Lauman and Kate Cole (Frances' daughters Sophie and Helen), Elizabeth Slattery (Frank's daughter Joan), Ross Thompson (neighbour Freddy) and Lewis Fiander (Frank's doctor Saul) - work as a team of equals in creating a complex emotional interplay which is a drama of considerable depth. The political and gender issues which generated almost gratuitous laughs three decades ago are now placed in context as aspects of the personal histories of these characters. The play, set in 1972 as the Vietnam War still dragged on and Gough Whitlam was about to win government, is tied to its time but is not dated. The characters' histories are now part of all of our history.
An interesting sidelight on the play is that it makes us realise how much communication has changed since the internet has become essential to our lives. Yet the fundamentals of personal relationships stay the same.
The audience's sustained applause on opening night expressed our appreciation not only for the skills of the director and actors but, I think, for a production which brought the best out of Williamson. Very satisfying.
Tuggeranong Arts Centre should be congratulated for engaging HIT productions, who plan a further tour of Travelling North in 2009. If you have missed it this time around, try to catch it next time.
©Frank McKone, Canberra
Friday 17 October 2008
2008: Yibiyung by Dallas Winmar
Yibiyung by Dallas Winmar. Company B directed by Wesley Enoch at Belvoir Street Theatre, Sydney, in association with Malthouse Melbourne. Season: September 17 – October 26, 2008. Bookings: 9699 3444 or www.belvoir.com.au
Reviewed by Frank McKone
Previously published in the Canberra Times, September 2008.
There are nearly 5 million reasons why I don't want to live in Sydney, but one that makes me wish I did – that's Company B, Belvoir Street Theatre. However, matinees at 2pm Saturdays and 5pm Sundays are well worth the drive.
Yibiyung richly deserves the "continued commitment to the development and staging of Indigenous theatre and generous support of Indigenous creative artists" given by the Company B Chairman's Group. Winmar's 3rd play is not drama on a grand scale. It is an intimate story of a young Noongar woman, her own grandmother, taken from her family under the WA Aborigines Act 1905, which made the Chief Protector of Aborigines the legal guardian of all 'aboriginal' and 'half caste' children up to the age of 16.
At the end of Act 1, I was in tears not only because of the inhumanity of her treatment at the infamous Moore River Native Settlement, as much as at Yibiyung's loss of family and culture which were so necessary to her after the death of her mother. This was not fiction, but an indictment of the real history of girl No 454. At 14 she was sent into 'service' with the worst that could entail. Yet it was the Aboriginal injunction against marrying within one's own skin group which later she and her Smiley had to accept. Life in either culture is not easy romance.
Her escape from 'protection' was an act of independence and bravery. Despite everything, she succeeded in finding her uncle, her real protector, later to become the grandmother of the author, allowing us to leave the theatre feeling as proud of Yibiyung as Winmar herself.
Larrakia (Darwin) woman Miranda Tapsell (Yibiyung) is still at NIDA, Jimi Bani (Smiley) trained at WAAPA, Jada Alberts (Yibiyung's mother Yirrabin) trained at the Adelaide Centre for the Arts, David Page (Uncle) of Page 8 fame is a Queensland Murri, Melodie Reynolds (Djindi, Yibiyung's friend at Moore River) is a Wongi woman from WA, Roxanne McDonald (Cook and Aunty) is descended from the Mandandanjii, Darambal and Kangalou tribes of Central Queensland, while director Wesley Enoch is from Stradbroke Island. With Sibylla Budd, Annie Byron and Russell Dykstra, this cast is powerful on stage and represents Enoch's picture of the past century: 'my grandparents' struggle for human rights . . . my parents' political struggle . . . my generation's stories of our cultural struggles – to know where we come from, have the right to speak our languages, the right to dance and to tell our stories.' In this Noongar story, chitty chitty – willy wagtail – is entertaining to watch but will get you into trouble if you follow his saucy dance.
Wouldn't it be great to see this production, and Company B regularly, at The Playhouse or The Street – in the nation's capital?
© Frank McKone M.A., F.A.C.E.
Canberra, Australia
Reviewed by Frank McKone
Previously published in the Canberra Times, September 2008.
There are nearly 5 million reasons why I don't want to live in Sydney, but one that makes me wish I did – that's Company B, Belvoir Street Theatre. However, matinees at 2pm Saturdays and 5pm Sundays are well worth the drive.
Yibiyung richly deserves the "continued commitment to the development and staging of Indigenous theatre and generous support of Indigenous creative artists" given by the Company B Chairman's Group. Winmar's 3rd play is not drama on a grand scale. It is an intimate story of a young Noongar woman, her own grandmother, taken from her family under the WA Aborigines Act 1905, which made the Chief Protector of Aborigines the legal guardian of all 'aboriginal' and 'half caste' children up to the age of 16.
At the end of Act 1, I was in tears not only because of the inhumanity of her treatment at the infamous Moore River Native Settlement, as much as at Yibiyung's loss of family and culture which were so necessary to her after the death of her mother. This was not fiction, but an indictment of the real history of girl No 454. At 14 she was sent into 'service' with the worst that could entail. Yet it was the Aboriginal injunction against marrying within one's own skin group which later she and her Smiley had to accept. Life in either culture is not easy romance.
Her escape from 'protection' was an act of independence and bravery. Despite everything, she succeeded in finding her uncle, her real protector, later to become the grandmother of the author, allowing us to leave the theatre feeling as proud of Yibiyung as Winmar herself.
Larrakia (Darwin) woman Miranda Tapsell (Yibiyung) is still at NIDA, Jimi Bani (Smiley) trained at WAAPA, Jada Alberts (Yibiyung's mother Yirrabin) trained at the Adelaide Centre for the Arts, David Page (Uncle) of Page 8 fame is a Queensland Murri, Melodie Reynolds (Djindi, Yibiyung's friend at Moore River) is a Wongi woman from WA, Roxanne McDonald (Cook and Aunty) is descended from the Mandandanjii, Darambal and Kangalou tribes of Central Queensland, while director Wesley Enoch is from Stradbroke Island. With Sibylla Budd, Annie Byron and Russell Dykstra, this cast is powerful on stage and represents Enoch's picture of the past century: 'my grandparents' struggle for human rights . . . my parents' political struggle . . . my generation's stories of our cultural struggles – to know where we come from, have the right to speak our languages, the right to dance and to tell our stories.' In this Noongar story, chitty chitty – willy wagtail – is entertaining to watch but will get you into trouble if you follow his saucy dance.
Wouldn't it be great to see this production, and Company B regularly, at The Playhouse or The Street – in the nation's capital?
© Frank McKone M.A., F.A.C.E.
Canberra, Australia
Thursday 2 October 2008
2008: Perfect Cowboys in Action: A Perfect Mermaid by David Mamet, Cowboys #2 and Action by Sam Shepard
Perfect Cowboys in Action: A Perfect Mermaid by David Mamet, Cowboys #2 and Action by Sam Shepard. moonlight directed by Fiona Atkin at ANU Arts Centre Drama Lab, Thursday October 2 Saturday October 11. Tickets $15 / $12 at the door. Teatro Vivaldi dinner packages 6257 2718.
Absurdist comedy is the common feature of these three short plays. In each case, characters talk essentially because we human beings are unable to not use our unique recursive brains to reflect on our experiences and try to place ourselves somewhere sensible in our infinite ultimately unknowable universe.
Is the mermaid, supposedly seen while walking on the beach, with or without a tail, or a fish head? Does one suburban cowboy actually die from too much imagination, or perhaps from being hit by a truck? Can action, even gutting a fish, save us from destructive rage or continuous internal dialogue which stultifies action? What’s really going on in the lives of ordinary people like ourselves who can never stop thinking?
Fiona Atkin, currently undertaking doctoral research on Sam Shepard, has shown how to put academic study into theatrical shape. She, and her cast including Ben Williams, Duncan Ragg and Samantha Sangston, understand Mamet and Shepard’s philosophical and psychological world very well, though their characters cannot understand themselves. The effect is often very funny to watch, but less than comfortable to think about.
I came home to watch politicians and economic commentators trying to explain global financial volatility. moonlight’s Perfect Cowboys in Action was the perfect antidote for despair, helping to see the comedy in the absurdity. But then again, it’s hard not to lock on to the absurdity and wonder if that’s the only reality. This is not just an academic dilemma, but theatrically intriguing. Try not to miss it.
©Frank McKone, Canberra
Absurdist comedy is the common feature of these three short plays. In each case, characters talk essentially because we human beings are unable to not use our unique recursive brains to reflect on our experiences and try to place ourselves somewhere sensible in our infinite ultimately unknowable universe.
Is the mermaid, supposedly seen while walking on the beach, with or without a tail, or a fish head? Does one suburban cowboy actually die from too much imagination, or perhaps from being hit by a truck? Can action, even gutting a fish, save us from destructive rage or continuous internal dialogue which stultifies action? What’s really going on in the lives of ordinary people like ourselves who can never stop thinking?
Fiona Atkin, currently undertaking doctoral research on Sam Shepard, has shown how to put academic study into theatrical shape. She, and her cast including Ben Williams, Duncan Ragg and Samantha Sangston, understand Mamet and Shepard’s philosophical and psychological world very well, though their characters cannot understand themselves. The effect is often very funny to watch, but less than comfortable to think about.
I came home to watch politicians and economic commentators trying to explain global financial volatility. moonlight’s Perfect Cowboys in Action was the perfect antidote for despair, helping to see the comedy in the absurdity. But then again, it’s hard not to lock on to the absurdity and wonder if that’s the only reality. This is not just an academic dilemma, but theatrically intriguing. Try not to miss it.
©Frank McKone, Canberra
2008: Olivia! Oliver with a Twist by Malcolm Sircom
Olivia! Oliver with a Twist by Malcolm Sircom. Presented by Music for Everyone: Act up Sing out, directed by Nina Stevenson, musical director Rose Shorney. Belconnen Community Theatre, Wed 1 Oct 11am only, Thurs 2 Oct 11am & 7pm, Fri 3 Oct 11am & 3pm, Sat 4 Oct 3pm only, Sun 5 Oct 3pm only, Mon 6 Oct 3pm only, Tue 7 Oct 11am & 3pm, Wed 8 Oct 11am & 3pm. Bookings: Canberra Ticketing 02 6275 2700
The purpose of Music for Everyone in this production is to encourage children to sing, and at the same time to learn the important basics of stage production. Nina Stevenson proves to be just the right person to direct Olivia! with its traditional stage musical structure and comic devices. The result is an effective show which both enables the chldren on stage, ranging in age from 7 to 16, to learn performing technique, and provides for the mainly children in the audience a model which they may now wish to emulate.
The essential learning for the performers was clearly how to work as a highly cooperative team, become aware of each of their individual parts in relation to the whole, and how to maintain focus on performing in front of their peers. Even for adults an audience of feisty children can be a challenge, but this year’s Act up Sing out group hardly missed a beat.
Stevenson and choreographer Emma Tattam enhanced the original script by the adroit use of group movement, which I thought came to a great finale in Sircom’s scene imitating Gilbert and Sullivan’s Trial by Jury, rebadged here as Trial by Judge. Olivia (Georgina Davidson) becomes a star of the London stage as the supplicating criminal’s daughter with a nice touch of old-fashioned melodrama.
There were many promising performers, which included particularly Maddison Furner as Eliza Doolittle for her all round characterisaton, and Sarah English as Annie, whose singing voice is already pleasant and clear, without being forced. This was an important feature of the show, that the children sang with their natural voices without amplification. It’s pleasing to see Music for Everyone fulfilling its promise to our community.
©Frank McKone, Canberra
The purpose of Music for Everyone in this production is to encourage children to sing, and at the same time to learn the important basics of stage production. Nina Stevenson proves to be just the right person to direct Olivia! with its traditional stage musical structure and comic devices. The result is an effective show which both enables the chldren on stage, ranging in age from 7 to 16, to learn performing technique, and provides for the mainly children in the audience a model which they may now wish to emulate.
The essential learning for the performers was clearly how to work as a highly cooperative team, become aware of each of their individual parts in relation to the whole, and how to maintain focus on performing in front of their peers. Even for adults an audience of feisty children can be a challenge, but this year’s Act up Sing out group hardly missed a beat.
Stevenson and choreographer Emma Tattam enhanced the original script by the adroit use of group movement, which I thought came to a great finale in Sircom’s scene imitating Gilbert and Sullivan’s Trial by Jury, rebadged here as Trial by Judge. Olivia (Georgina Davidson) becomes a star of the London stage as the supplicating criminal’s daughter with a nice touch of old-fashioned melodrama.
There were many promising performers, which included particularly Maddison Furner as Eliza Doolittle for her all round characterisaton, and Sarah English as Annie, whose singing voice is already pleasant and clear, without being forced. This was an important feature of the show, that the children sang with their natural voices without amplification. It’s pleasing to see Music for Everyone fulfilling its promise to our community.
©Frank McKone, Canberra
Wednesday 24 September 2008
2008: The Queen of Bingo by Jeanne Michels and Phyllis Murphy
The Queen of Bingo by Jeanne Michels and Phyllis Murphy. The Australian premiere tour, directed by Helen Ellis, at Queanbeyan Performing Arts Centre, September 24-28, 8pm. Bookings: 6298 0290
Professional actors will do whatever it takes to make a weak script look good. Fortunately Evelyn Krape and Kelly Nash work very hard and succeed in making The Queen of Bingo watchable, if not nearly as funny as its review in Grand Rapids, USA, suggests. “Witty, wry and outrageous” it is not, despite every effort especially by Nash, as the larger of two sisters, to expand Babe’s rage at her failure to lose weight and so be able to accept the footie coach’s invitation to the Best and Fairest Ball. Krape, as the older and slimmer Sis, makes some remarkable gyrating movements to turn Babe’s self-loathing around, and to entertain us.
But in the end the writing depends too much on cheap jibes at invisible characters off-stage, who can’t answer back, and on artificial devices, like coming up with bingo, for which there can be no dramatic justification. It’s a neat way of bringing to an end a play which otherwise might have dragged on as long as a real bingo night.
A major fault was to translate this quintessentially American play into a broad Australian accent, including idiomatic phrases and iconic local references. The bingo calls like “under B, eleven”, for example, do not have the ring of the British-Australian tradition, which would be “Legs eleven”, with all the sexual innuendo which could make the script smuttier and probably funnier. I’m not sure, either, that “housie” as it was played here in the Catholic church context is as dominant as it once was when it was the butt of jokes about Catholics by the straight-laced Protestants. It might have been better to have played the text in its original American accents, allowing us at least to laugh at Americans rather than at Catholics and fat people.
Oddly enough, the most engaging part was played by Keith Hutton, who, as the Irish-accented Father Mac, played real bingo with us just before interval and someone won a real frozen turkey. I think the New York Village Voice got it right, calling The Queen of Bingo “silliness and a frozen turkey....”
©Frank McKone, Canberra
Professional actors will do whatever it takes to make a weak script look good. Fortunately Evelyn Krape and Kelly Nash work very hard and succeed in making The Queen of Bingo watchable, if not nearly as funny as its review in Grand Rapids, USA, suggests. “Witty, wry and outrageous” it is not, despite every effort especially by Nash, as the larger of two sisters, to expand Babe’s rage at her failure to lose weight and so be able to accept the footie coach’s invitation to the Best and Fairest Ball. Krape, as the older and slimmer Sis, makes some remarkable gyrating movements to turn Babe’s self-loathing around, and to entertain us.
But in the end the writing depends too much on cheap jibes at invisible characters off-stage, who can’t answer back, and on artificial devices, like coming up with bingo, for which there can be no dramatic justification. It’s a neat way of bringing to an end a play which otherwise might have dragged on as long as a real bingo night.
A major fault was to translate this quintessentially American play into a broad Australian accent, including idiomatic phrases and iconic local references. The bingo calls like “under B, eleven”, for example, do not have the ring of the British-Australian tradition, which would be “Legs eleven”, with all the sexual innuendo which could make the script smuttier and probably funnier. I’m not sure, either, that “housie” as it was played here in the Catholic church context is as dominant as it once was when it was the butt of jokes about Catholics by the straight-laced Protestants. It might have been better to have played the text in its original American accents, allowing us at least to laugh at Americans rather than at Catholics and fat people.
Oddly enough, the most engaging part was played by Keith Hutton, who, as the Irish-accented Father Mac, played real bingo with us just before interval and someone won a real frozen turkey. I think the New York Village Voice got it right, calling The Queen of Bingo “silliness and a frozen turkey....”
©Frank McKone, Canberra
2008: Dora the Explorer Live! - Dora’s Pirate Adventure by Chris Gifford
Dora the Explorer Live! - Dora’s Pirate Adventure by Chris Gifford. SVP Live Theatricals for Nickelodeon (US pay TV), at Australian Institute of Sport, Tuesday September 24.
At the risk of seeming as curmudgeonly as Ian Warden, this very conventional, superficial and non-educational entertainment reminded me most closely of the recent Democrat Convention at which hero Barack Obama was nominated for president, while foxy H. Clinton, crying “Oh Man!”, tried desperately to pretend she didn’t mind being beaten. It’s nice that the roles are reversed with Dora the heroine, played sweetly by Sheena Ortiz, and Swiper the dastardly fox played forlornly by David Taylor, but this is not enough.
Even 3 and 4 year-olds deserve better real-politick and common sense. Swiper is the clown of the show and therefore the most interesting character. His technology - his motor bike and motor boat - fail him, but Dora makes him happy by giving him a pirate jacket and allowing him to dance at her party. Map tells us how to get to the treasure at the very beginning, so no mental effort required here. The pigs, who control the treasure chest, are surprisingly compliant. When everyone (all 2,800 of them at the session I went to) yells “Give us our treasure” (which isn’t exactly theirs in the first place), the pigs say, “OK, then” and all on stage have a dance party. I suppose it could be seen as a parallel to the Wall Street show, but I don’t think it’s teaching children quite what Nickelodeon claim.
Parents tell me that in the cartoon form on a TV screen, their children do the colouring in, call out the answers to solve problems, dance along and learn some Spanish, but the claim of the original writers Chris Gifford and Valerie Walsh that “Problem-solving strategies like stopping to think, asking for help, and using what you know are modelled in every Dora show” were hardly fulfilled in Dora’s Pirate Adventure. To high energy rock-latin music, in an atmosphere of constant excitement, children’s responses were never more than repetition of slogans to encourage the hero on to win. For the only real problem - how to fix the sail on the pirate ship - children were offered a multiple choice question, beginning “Can we use a cricket bat?” (No!) with the correct answer being “Can we use sticky tape?”, which didn’t get a definite response, but the show went on anyway. How American can you get?
I quite like Hero Obama as much as Ortiz’s Dora, but investing in either show is a short-sell in my view.
©Frank McKone, Canberra
At the risk of seeming as curmudgeonly as Ian Warden, this very conventional, superficial and non-educational entertainment reminded me most closely of the recent Democrat Convention at which hero Barack Obama was nominated for president, while foxy H. Clinton, crying “Oh Man!”, tried desperately to pretend she didn’t mind being beaten. It’s nice that the roles are reversed with Dora the heroine, played sweetly by Sheena Ortiz, and Swiper the dastardly fox played forlornly by David Taylor, but this is not enough.
Even 3 and 4 year-olds deserve better real-politick and common sense. Swiper is the clown of the show and therefore the most interesting character. His technology - his motor bike and motor boat - fail him, but Dora makes him happy by giving him a pirate jacket and allowing him to dance at her party. Map tells us how to get to the treasure at the very beginning, so no mental effort required here. The pigs, who control the treasure chest, are surprisingly compliant. When everyone (all 2,800 of them at the session I went to) yells “Give us our treasure” (which isn’t exactly theirs in the first place), the pigs say, “OK, then” and all on stage have a dance party. I suppose it could be seen as a parallel to the Wall Street show, but I don’t think it’s teaching children quite what Nickelodeon claim.
Parents tell me that in the cartoon form on a TV screen, their children do the colouring in, call out the answers to solve problems, dance along and learn some Spanish, but the claim of the original writers Chris Gifford and Valerie Walsh that “Problem-solving strategies like stopping to think, asking for help, and using what you know are modelled in every Dora show” were hardly fulfilled in Dora’s Pirate Adventure. To high energy rock-latin music, in an atmosphere of constant excitement, children’s responses were never more than repetition of slogans to encourage the hero on to win. For the only real problem - how to fix the sail on the pirate ship - children were offered a multiple choice question, beginning “Can we use a cricket bat?” (No!) with the correct answer being “Can we use sticky tape?”, which didn’t get a definite response, but the show went on anyway. How American can you get?
I quite like Hero Obama as much as Ortiz’s Dora, but investing in either show is a short-sell in my view.
©Frank McKone, Canberra
Friday 12 September 2008
2008: Pygmalion by George Bernard Shaw
Pygmalion by George Bernard Shaw, directed by Tony Turner. Canberra Repertory Society, Theatre 3, September 12 to October 4, 8pm. Bookings 6257 1950.
The aura of My Fair Lady might have made staging the original play, Pygmalion, seem dull. Not a bit of it. The intensity of the characters’ relationships, the clarity of Shaw’s ideas, and the quality of the comedy are far better, and Rep’s production does the play justice.
Jessica Brent looks and sounds as Eliza should, and shows her growing towards true independence. She may have overplayed the “guttersnipe” a little, but received justified applause for the meeting Mrs Higgins scene and the presentation to the Ambassador, where she looked stunning. On this point, costumes and sets thoughout the production were terrific.
Jerry Hearn’s Higgins is even true to the original actor’s personality defects. Shaw himself directed Sir Herbert Beerbohm Tree who “was so completely preoccupied with himself that he was always surprised when anyone else spoke”. Though Tree had no idea of acting by Shaw’s standards, he naturally appeared just as Shaw imagined Higgins. Hearn’s unbelieving scorn overlaying Higgins’ inability to deal with his loss in the final line “Nonsense: she’s going to marry Freddy. Ha ha! Freddy! Freddy!! Ha ha ha ha ha!!!!!” captured both the comedy and the darker undertones that Turner mentioned in his Director’s Notes.
Each of the other key actors - John Honey as Pickering, Ian Croker as Eliza’s father Alfred Doolittle, Helen Vaughan-Roberts as Mrs Higgins - matched the central roles, with strong support from Liz Bradley (Mrs Pearce) and the Eynsford-Hill family of Judi Crane, Jodi McAlister and Nicholas Tranter.
There was some nervousness on opening night, with a few lines dropped and some pacing a bit slow in the second half. But confidence will soon grow in this well directed and designed production. It is a great joy to see the real George Bernard Shaw as it should be done on stage.
©Frank McKone, Canberra
The aura of My Fair Lady might have made staging the original play, Pygmalion, seem dull. Not a bit of it. The intensity of the characters’ relationships, the clarity of Shaw’s ideas, and the quality of the comedy are far better, and Rep’s production does the play justice.
Jessica Brent looks and sounds as Eliza should, and shows her growing towards true independence. She may have overplayed the “guttersnipe” a little, but received justified applause for the meeting Mrs Higgins scene and the presentation to the Ambassador, where she looked stunning. On this point, costumes and sets thoughout the production were terrific.
Jerry Hearn’s Higgins is even true to the original actor’s personality defects. Shaw himself directed Sir Herbert Beerbohm Tree who “was so completely preoccupied with himself that he was always surprised when anyone else spoke”. Though Tree had no idea of acting by Shaw’s standards, he naturally appeared just as Shaw imagined Higgins. Hearn’s unbelieving scorn overlaying Higgins’ inability to deal with his loss in the final line “Nonsense: she’s going to marry Freddy. Ha ha! Freddy! Freddy!! Ha ha ha ha ha!!!!!” captured both the comedy and the darker undertones that Turner mentioned in his Director’s Notes.
Each of the other key actors - John Honey as Pickering, Ian Croker as Eliza’s father Alfred Doolittle, Helen Vaughan-Roberts as Mrs Higgins - matched the central roles, with strong support from Liz Bradley (Mrs Pearce) and the Eynsford-Hill family of Judi Crane, Jodi McAlister and Nicholas Tranter.
There was some nervousness on opening night, with a few lines dropped and some pacing a bit slow in the second half. But confidence will soon grow in this well directed and designed production. It is a great joy to see the real George Bernard Shaw as it should be done on stage.
©Frank McKone, Canberra
Saturday 6 September 2008
2008: Princess Pissy Pants The Greedy Cheese Eating Bitch by Joanne Brookfield. Review Version 2
Princess Pissy Pants The Greedy Cheese Eating Bitch written and performed by Joanne Brookfield. Canberra Theatre Courtyard Studio, September 6.
Joanne Brookfield has made her name since the 2005 Melbourne Comedy Festival telling the story of the 12-year life of her Alsation, Murphy, around Australia and New Zealand. This is not a stand-up comedy act of one-liners, but a cleverly constructed, very funny story as much about being a strong, independent woman as it is about her dog.
We can imagine life from Murphy’s point of view.
“Arf! Arf! Arf! This is me, Murphy, bounding up the hallway to the front door, because I can hear Joanne’s key turning in the lock. She thinks I’m doing this out of doggie loyalty and unconditional love, but I just want to see if there’s a chance I can charge outside, do a big poo right in the middle of the footpath that will really embarrass her because of the rule about picking up my poos. As she said, she wouldn’t pick up yours, not even her own. She comes from Frankston, which she thought was a bit like Gungahlin in Canberra, but in the end the poo-poohing by all those women who think they are ladies who come from Mt Eliza (which has to be said the Queen-like way they say it) where she takes me for walks because she would rather I mess up Mt Eliza than her street in Frankston, got to her and she started taking a plastic bag. Then she could walk with me on the lead and my poo in the bag, and make a kind of statement about the nature of society.”
Murphy once ate a whole cheese, hence that part of the show’s title, but might have gone on to say “I don’t think Princess Pissy Pants was really fair. After all I was really old, had arthritis, could hardly walk or control my bodily functions. And I didn’t know Joanne thought it was great to tell me to ‘Stay’ after I was dead, because that was the only time I did what I was told. You should have seen her telling all those people about it at the theatre, except I was dead by then.”
And indeed, you should have. A full house laughed, groaned and squirmed at Brookfield’s story, brought along photos of their own pets, and supported the charity, ARF, which stands for ACT Rescue & Foster, who rescue healthy abandoned dogs from euthanasia. Look up www.fosterdogs.org if you would like one.
©Frank McKone, Canberra
Joanne Brookfield has made her name since the 2005 Melbourne Comedy Festival telling the story of the 12-year life of her Alsation, Murphy, around Australia and New Zealand. This is not a stand-up comedy act of one-liners, but a cleverly constructed, very funny story as much about being a strong, independent woman as it is about her dog.
We can imagine life from Murphy’s point of view.
“Arf! Arf! Arf! This is me, Murphy, bounding up the hallway to the front door, because I can hear Joanne’s key turning in the lock. She thinks I’m doing this out of doggie loyalty and unconditional love, but I just want to see if there’s a chance I can charge outside, do a big poo right in the middle of the footpath that will really embarrass her because of the rule about picking up my poos. As she said, she wouldn’t pick up yours, not even her own. She comes from Frankston, which she thought was a bit like Gungahlin in Canberra, but in the end the poo-poohing by all those women who think they are ladies who come from Mt Eliza (which has to be said the Queen-like way they say it) where she takes me for walks because she would rather I mess up Mt Eliza than her street in Frankston, got to her and she started taking a plastic bag. Then she could walk with me on the lead and my poo in the bag, and make a kind of statement about the nature of society.”
Murphy once ate a whole cheese, hence that part of the show’s title, but might have gone on to say “I don’t think Princess Pissy Pants was really fair. After all I was really old, had arthritis, could hardly walk or control my bodily functions. And I didn’t know Joanne thought it was great to tell me to ‘Stay’ after I was dead, because that was the only time I did what I was told. You should have seen her telling all those people about it at the theatre, except I was dead by then.”
And indeed, you should have. A full house laughed, groaned and squirmed at Brookfield’s story, brought along photos of their own pets, and supported the charity, ARF, which stands for ACT Rescue & Foster, who rescue healthy abandoned dogs from euthanasia. Look up www.fosterdogs.org if you would like one.
©Frank McKone, Canberra
2008: Princess Pissy Pants The Greedy Cheese Eating Bitch by Joanne Brookfield. Review Version 1
Princess Pissy Pants The Greedy Cheese Eating Bitch written and performed by Joanne Brookfield. Canberra Theatre Courtyard Studio, September 6.
Arf! Arf! Arf! This is me, Murphy, bounding up the hallway to the front door, because I can hear Joanne’s key turning in the lock. Of course, she thinks I’m doing this out of doggie loyalty and unconditional love, but I just want to see if there’s a chance I can charge outside, do a big poo right in the middle of the footpath that will really embarrass her and maybe attack a small WFD (white fluffy dog) instead of having to endure WFDs attacking me because I’m kept on a lead because I’m a middle-size dog and people who have small WFDs think they don’t have to be bothered obeying the rules that Joanne doesn’t really think she should have to either, except that she gets to feel guilty if she doesn’t.
Especially the one about picking up my poos. As she said, she wouldn’t pick up yours, not even her own, but she comes from Frankston, which she thought was a bit like Gungahlin in Canberra, and in the end the poo-poohing by all those women who think they are ladies who come from Mt Eliza (which has to be said the Queen-like way they say it) where she takes me for walks because she would rather I mess up Mt Eliza than her street in Frankston, in the end it got to her and she started taking a plastic bag. Then she could walk with me on the lead and my poo in the bag, and make a kind of statement about the nature of society.
It wasn’t her that called me The Greedy Cheese Eating Bitch. That was one of her flatmates, not the one who left the terrific Vietnamese takeaway on the coffee table, I don’t remember him calling me any repeatable name.
I don’t think Princess Pissy Pants was really fair. After all I was really old, had arthritis and could hardly walk. And I didn’t know Joanne thought it was great to tell me to “Stay” after I was dead, because that was the only time I did what I was told. But she also thought I was great when I kept licking her tears from her eyes when she was crying until she stopped being angry with me and we had a growling and giggling game. The salt tasted nice, and I like playing growling. Of course, when those burglars tried to get in the back door with the key they’d hidden after the time they broke in when I wasn’t there, I wasn’t playing when I growled, and Joanne was really pleased with me for defending my house. You should have seen her telling all those people about it at the theatre, except I was dead by then.
By the way ARF stands for ACT Rescue & Foster who rescue healthy dogs from euthanasia. Look up www.fosterdogs.org if you want one.
©Frank McKone, Canberra
Arf! Arf! Arf! This is me, Murphy, bounding up the hallway to the front door, because I can hear Joanne’s key turning in the lock. Of course, she thinks I’m doing this out of doggie loyalty and unconditional love, but I just want to see if there’s a chance I can charge outside, do a big poo right in the middle of the footpath that will really embarrass her and maybe attack a small WFD (white fluffy dog) instead of having to endure WFDs attacking me because I’m kept on a lead because I’m a middle-size dog and people who have small WFDs think they don’t have to be bothered obeying the rules that Joanne doesn’t really think she should have to either, except that she gets to feel guilty if she doesn’t.
Especially the one about picking up my poos. As she said, she wouldn’t pick up yours, not even her own, but she comes from Frankston, which she thought was a bit like Gungahlin in Canberra, and in the end the poo-poohing by all those women who think they are ladies who come from Mt Eliza (which has to be said the Queen-like way they say it) where she takes me for walks because she would rather I mess up Mt Eliza than her street in Frankston, in the end it got to her and she started taking a plastic bag. Then she could walk with me on the lead and my poo in the bag, and make a kind of statement about the nature of society.
It wasn’t her that called me The Greedy Cheese Eating Bitch. That was one of her flatmates, not the one who left the terrific Vietnamese takeaway on the coffee table, I don’t remember him calling me any repeatable name.
I don’t think Princess Pissy Pants was really fair. After all I was really old, had arthritis and could hardly walk. And I didn’t know Joanne thought it was great to tell me to “Stay” after I was dead, because that was the only time I did what I was told. But she also thought I was great when I kept licking her tears from her eyes when she was crying until she stopped being angry with me and we had a growling and giggling game. The salt tasted nice, and I like playing growling. Of course, when those burglars tried to get in the back door with the key they’d hidden after the time they broke in when I wasn’t there, I wasn’t playing when I growled, and Joanne was really pleased with me for defending my house. You should have seen her telling all those people about it at the theatre, except I was dead by then.
By the way ARF stands for ACT Rescue & Foster who rescue healthy dogs from euthanasia. Look up www.fosterdogs.org if you want one.
©Frank McKone, Canberra
Thursday 4 September 2008
2008: Annie
Annie. Music by Charles Strouse, lyrics by Martin Charnin, book by Thomas Meehan. Presented by Canberra Philharmonic Society directed by Jim McMullen, musical director Ian McLean, choreographer Lisa Buckley. Costumes by Jill De Rooy, set designer Brian Sudding. At Erindale Theatre 4-20 September, Wed-Sat 7.30pm., Sat 2pm. Bookings: 6247 4456 or ticketing@philo.org.au
This is a very successful production of an enduring musical. There are plenty of reasons for seeing it, and none that I can think of for staying away.
I tend to cringe when style does not match the demands of the writing, but McMullen, McLean and Buckley have produced just the right touch for what is in essence a warm-hearted social satire with a bit of an edge. Our attitude, watching the seriously angry little orphan girls in the opening scene, is immediately established. Madeline Barclay (Annie/Molly) and Shelby Frame (Molly/Annie) easily took on the roles which they alternate through the season, while the whole group clearly understood the mood, the music and choreography, a credit to all three directors working with such young performers.
Then Kate Tricks took command as Miss Hanigan, and the show never looked back. As the plot develops, class conflict and political power are brought to the fore through taking the musical forms of America in the 1920s and 30s into a cartoon style in singing, dance and costume which at times reminded me of the cut and thrust of Kurt Weill and Bertolt Brecht. When the Hoovervillians living on the street turn on us, the audience, the point is made and the relevance of the billionaire Daddy Warbucks turning to the Democrat Franklin D. Roosevelt and the New Deal is made clear. One could even find oneself thinking about this year’s upcoming US election.
But the good thing is that the style keeps the humour flowing, even through the second half, which is not as well written as the first. The sentimentality which could easily bubble up is kept in check, and the appropriate result on opening night was plenty of applause for a bravura show. Casting for singing and acting was excellent all round, with Daniel Wells as Warbucks particularly pleasing to my mind. Special praise too for set artist Ian Croker with Sudding and the construction team for using the fly-in sets so effectively. And it was great to see scene changes integrated into the action and done in time to the music. Smooth transitions like this are essential to keep the drama flying rather than flagging. Eclipse lighting and sound team got the design right too, and most technical things worked well on the big test of opening night.
The result was that I enjoyed Annie on many different levels, and can certainly recommend the show for young and old.
©Frank McKone, Canberra
This is a very successful production of an enduring musical. There are plenty of reasons for seeing it, and none that I can think of for staying away.
I tend to cringe when style does not match the demands of the writing, but McMullen, McLean and Buckley have produced just the right touch for what is in essence a warm-hearted social satire with a bit of an edge. Our attitude, watching the seriously angry little orphan girls in the opening scene, is immediately established. Madeline Barclay (Annie/Molly) and Shelby Frame (Molly/Annie) easily took on the roles which they alternate through the season, while the whole group clearly understood the mood, the music and choreography, a credit to all three directors working with such young performers.
Then Kate Tricks took command as Miss Hanigan, and the show never looked back. As the plot develops, class conflict and political power are brought to the fore through taking the musical forms of America in the 1920s and 30s into a cartoon style in singing, dance and costume which at times reminded me of the cut and thrust of Kurt Weill and Bertolt Brecht. When the Hoovervillians living on the street turn on us, the audience, the point is made and the relevance of the billionaire Daddy Warbucks turning to the Democrat Franklin D. Roosevelt and the New Deal is made clear. One could even find oneself thinking about this year’s upcoming US election.
But the good thing is that the style keeps the humour flowing, even through the second half, which is not as well written as the first. The sentimentality which could easily bubble up is kept in check, and the appropriate result on opening night was plenty of applause for a bravura show. Casting for singing and acting was excellent all round, with Daniel Wells as Warbucks particularly pleasing to my mind. Special praise too for set artist Ian Croker with Sudding and the construction team for using the fly-in sets so effectively. And it was great to see scene changes integrated into the action and done in time to the music. Smooth transitions like this are essential to keep the drama flying rather than flagging. Eclipse lighting and sound team got the design right too, and most technical things worked well on the big test of opening night.
The result was that I enjoyed Annie on many different levels, and can certainly recommend the show for young and old.
©Frank McKone, Canberra
Thursday 28 August 2008
2008: The Red Shoe by Ursula Dubosarsky
The Red Shoe from the novel by Ursula Dubosarsky, adapted and directed by Kate Shearer. The Jigsaw Company at The Street Theatre, August 28 – September 6: Mon – Tues: 10.30am & 1.00pm, Wed – Fri: 10.30am & 7.30pm, Sat: 7.30pm
This play frightened me, and it concerns me that the Arts Around Canberra website recommends it for “anyone over the age of 10”. I haven’t read the novel, but reviews tell me that there is a great difference between reading a novel and watching a play. One blog talks of “a gorgeous sense of dread”. Reading allows you to sense the dread at one remove. On stage I felt the dread directly and left the theatre quite shaken.
The play is about children, but not those too young. The ideas in it may well be good for discussion from about age 14, but the emotions that well up need the maturity of at least 16 year olds. From what I’ve read, the novel also lays out the historical context of the Petrov Affair in 1954 as a distancing device, but on stage, even if you already know the history, the newsreel images and voice overs horribly increase the sense of dread.
This doesn’t make it a bad play, just one not suitable for young children. What scared me most was that the central character, 6 year old Matilda, quite naturally, misinterprets reality. Kate Sherman’s creation of this character is so strong that we see and feel the world through Matilda’s eyes – and we are left at the end of the play never knowing the truth about events that seem to have been horrific. The idea that none of us can ever know the whole truth – about the historical past or even our own personal lives – is an adult concept. It is a truth that many of us find difficult to accept, and I took an hour after the performance to shake off the feeling that at any moment the worst might happen. Reviews suggest that the novel ends in a clear positive light, but on stage it was hard to trust the reappearance of Matilda’s father to be reality, when it might be vain hope.
This is, of course, a fully professional production and the acting and design are up to the standard we should expect. I did think, though, that not all the moving of characters on and off stage in the brief blackouts was seamless, so the theatrical illusion was broken too often. On opening night, too, lack of coordination of lights, sound and video was disappointing.
For me, then, Jigsaw presents a challenging piece of theatre which some young people may find disturbing, so parents and teachers should keep this in mind and be prepared to work through emotional responses as well as reasoned discussion.
©Frank McKone, Canberra
This play frightened me, and it concerns me that the Arts Around Canberra website recommends it for “anyone over the age of 10”. I haven’t read the novel, but reviews tell me that there is a great difference between reading a novel and watching a play. One blog talks of “a gorgeous sense of dread”. Reading allows you to sense the dread at one remove. On stage I felt the dread directly and left the theatre quite shaken.
The play is about children, but not those too young. The ideas in it may well be good for discussion from about age 14, but the emotions that well up need the maturity of at least 16 year olds. From what I’ve read, the novel also lays out the historical context of the Petrov Affair in 1954 as a distancing device, but on stage, even if you already know the history, the newsreel images and voice overs horribly increase the sense of dread.
This doesn’t make it a bad play, just one not suitable for young children. What scared me most was that the central character, 6 year old Matilda, quite naturally, misinterprets reality. Kate Sherman’s creation of this character is so strong that we see and feel the world through Matilda’s eyes – and we are left at the end of the play never knowing the truth about events that seem to have been horrific. The idea that none of us can ever know the whole truth – about the historical past or even our own personal lives – is an adult concept. It is a truth that many of us find difficult to accept, and I took an hour after the performance to shake off the feeling that at any moment the worst might happen. Reviews suggest that the novel ends in a clear positive light, but on stage it was hard to trust the reappearance of Matilda’s father to be reality, when it might be vain hope.
This is, of course, a fully professional production and the acting and design are up to the standard we should expect. I did think, though, that not all the moving of characters on and off stage in the brief blackouts was seamless, so the theatrical illusion was broken too often. On opening night, too, lack of coordination of lights, sound and video was disappointing.
For me, then, Jigsaw presents a challenging piece of theatre which some young people may find disturbing, so parents and teachers should keep this in mind and be prepared to work through emotional responses as well as reasoned discussion.
©Frank McKone, Canberra
Saturday 16 August 2008
2008: Three Sisters by Anton Chekhov
Three Sisters by Anton Chekhov. Free Rain Theatre Company directed by Catherine Mann at The Courtyard Studio, Canberra Theatre Centre. Friday-Saturday August 15-16, Wednesday-Saturday August 20-30, 8pm. Matinees Saturdays 2pm, Sunday August 24, 5pm.
In this translation, by Nicholas Wright, the doctor Chebutkyn (Oliver Baudert) declares “It doesn’t matter,” as lives fall apart all around him, emotionally and literally. But we know it does matter that Chekhov created this drama of the unfulfilled lives of the three Prozorov sisters, Olga (Lainie Hart), Masha (Leah Baulch), Irina (Alison McGregor) and their brother Andrey (Dallas Bland).
We also know that it does matter that director Mann and all her large cast, including Barbara Sekuless (Anfisa), Duncan Ley (Vershinin), Soren Jensen (Baron Tuzenbach), Duncan Driver (Solyony), Scott Cummings (Fedotik), Paul Leverenz (Rodé), Robert de Fries (Kulygin), Hannah Meredith (Natasha), Richard Anderson (Ferapont) and Katherine Olsen (Maid), provide us with a well-crafted presentation of Chekhov’s characters, their relationships, their dreams of future happiness - in 300 years, they say.
What an irony it is to look around our world after 104 years since Three Sisters was first performed. Maybe more people than ever before have more material wealth, but the Russian and Georgian armies still behave as they did in Chekhov’s days, and clinical depression seems even more common. Yet Chekhov saw strength in his women in the end. Masha says “We shall be left alone to start our life anew. We must live.” Irina says “The time will come when there will be no more secrets, when all that is now hidden will be made plain.” Olga says “I want to live. We shall be forgotten . . . but our sufferings will pass into joy for those who live after us.”
200 years to go. Can we make it? The intelligence and sense of unity in this production says we can. The art of theatre is to create the illusion of truth. Chekhov wrote the truth, and Free Rain have successfully staged his work. There is satisfaction in their art which says, yes, “We must live.”
©Frank McKone, Canberra
In this translation, by Nicholas Wright, the doctor Chebutkyn (Oliver Baudert) declares “It doesn’t matter,” as lives fall apart all around him, emotionally and literally. But we know it does matter that Chekhov created this drama of the unfulfilled lives of the three Prozorov sisters, Olga (Lainie Hart), Masha (Leah Baulch), Irina (Alison McGregor) and their brother Andrey (Dallas Bland).
We also know that it does matter that director Mann and all her large cast, including Barbara Sekuless (Anfisa), Duncan Ley (Vershinin), Soren Jensen (Baron Tuzenbach), Duncan Driver (Solyony), Scott Cummings (Fedotik), Paul Leverenz (Rodé), Robert de Fries (Kulygin), Hannah Meredith (Natasha), Richard Anderson (Ferapont) and Katherine Olsen (Maid), provide us with a well-crafted presentation of Chekhov’s characters, their relationships, their dreams of future happiness - in 300 years, they say.
What an irony it is to look around our world after 104 years since Three Sisters was first performed. Maybe more people than ever before have more material wealth, but the Russian and Georgian armies still behave as they did in Chekhov’s days, and clinical depression seems even more common. Yet Chekhov saw strength in his women in the end. Masha says “We shall be left alone to start our life anew. We must live.” Irina says “The time will come when there will be no more secrets, when all that is now hidden will be made plain.” Olga says “I want to live. We shall be forgotten . . . but our sufferings will pass into joy for those who live after us.”
200 years to go. Can we make it? The intelligence and sense of unity in this production says we can. The art of theatre is to create the illusion of truth. Chekhov wrote the truth, and Free Rain have successfully staged his work. There is satisfaction in their art which says, yes, “We must live.”
©Frank McKone, Canberra
Friday 15 August 2008
2008: Emily Loves to Bounce by Stephen Michael King
Emily Loves to Bounce based on the books by Stephen Michael King. Patch Theatre at The Playhouse, Wednesday August 13 to Saturday August 16 10am and 11.45am. Canberra Ticketing 6275 2700
Henry, aged 6, has just so many ideas that they float about in the air around him. Amy, also 6, thinks some of his ideas are silly, but soon gets into the action. This is not a play with a conventional storyline, because ideas can pop out all over the place. It’s all about imagination and enjoying the unexpected.
You might think this sounds a bit abstract for 4-8 year olds, but don’t worry. I took my 3 year old grandson among a full house of mainly pre-schoolers yesterday. He understood everything with a little helpful commentary from me, while the slightly older children followed all the twists and turns with great excitement.
Patch has focussed on educating the young children to respond to subtleties of theatrical presentation, from quiet musical moments to visual surprises, from straightforward teaching of spatial concepts like up-down, front-back, left-right to interpersonal relationships.
Emily certainly does bounce in all sorts of ways. This is enjoyable for the children and meaningful for their adult minders. Highly successful. If you don’t have time to ring, some seats may still be available at both sessions.
©Frank McKone, Canberra
Henry, aged 6, has just so many ideas that they float about in the air around him. Amy, also 6, thinks some of his ideas are silly, but soon gets into the action. This is not a play with a conventional storyline, because ideas can pop out all over the place. It’s all about imagination and enjoying the unexpected.
You might think this sounds a bit abstract for 4-8 year olds, but don’t worry. I took my 3 year old grandson among a full house of mainly pre-schoolers yesterday. He understood everything with a little helpful commentary from me, while the slightly older children followed all the twists and turns with great excitement.
Patch has focussed on educating the young children to respond to subtleties of theatrical presentation, from quiet musical moments to visual surprises, from straightforward teaching of spatial concepts like up-down, front-back, left-right to interpersonal relationships.
Emily certainly does bounce in all sorts of ways. This is enjoyable for the children and meaningful for their adult minders. Highly successful. If you don’t have time to ring, some seats may still be available at both sessions.
©Frank McKone, Canberra
Friday 8 August 2008
2008: Mrs Holt by Trevar Alan Chilver
Mrs Holt by Trevar Alan Chilver. Directed by James Scott for Canberra Dramatics at The Street Theatre Studio, August 7-9, 12, 14-16 7.30pm. Matinee August 16 2pm. Bookings: 6247 1223.
Mrs Holt is a play of good intentions, about good intentions. Theatrically quite gentle, almost old-fashioned in style, Chilver allows us to find humour in the ending of a life, and hope in the beginning of a new love. It’s really quite nice not to have to contend with over-the-top theatre. This play makes no great demands on the intellect, but still makes its point that preconceived assumptions about others, based on their social roles, are more than likely to be wrong.
Canberra Dramatics is an independent little theatre with a small amount of community support to pay upfront costs, paid back after each show from box office and the pockets of the Chilver family. It is pleasing, in these circumstances, to see effective casting for ages ranging from the twenties to 81. Looking physically right, and costumed well, the setting in an early 1990s nursing home was believable as it needed to be to make the issues of the day stand out. Mrs Holt (Gay Evans) automatically thinks the male nurse Jack (Pete Ricardo) is a doctor and that her grandaughter, Rachel (Sarah Daphne), is barking up the wrong tree seeking promotion in her law firm rather than concentrating on marriage and becoming a mother.
Historically speaking the script takes liberties. The nursing homes that I knew in this period did not have such fully qualified staff in permanent positions to provide the continuity of relationship and treatment that nurse Julie (Sarah Ritchie) and sister Vera (Cerri Davis) rightly insist upon. Mrs Holt’s quick mind and analytical conversation was also an extreme rarity in my experience. But Evans makes her character into a central figure, taking control of her last days, who leaves those providing care for her with positive lessons about what this means. They learn to respect her independence and respect each other.
Scene changes were a little clunky, especially with so many in an 80 minute play, and pacing a little slow when I saw the show last Friday, but the audience soon became engaged, responding to the humour, recognising the issues and applauding the Canberra Dramatics team warmly at curtain call.
©Frank McKone, Canberra
Mrs Holt is a play of good intentions, about good intentions. Theatrically quite gentle, almost old-fashioned in style, Chilver allows us to find humour in the ending of a life, and hope in the beginning of a new love. It’s really quite nice not to have to contend with over-the-top theatre. This play makes no great demands on the intellect, but still makes its point that preconceived assumptions about others, based on their social roles, are more than likely to be wrong.
Canberra Dramatics is an independent little theatre with a small amount of community support to pay upfront costs, paid back after each show from box office and the pockets of the Chilver family. It is pleasing, in these circumstances, to see effective casting for ages ranging from the twenties to 81. Looking physically right, and costumed well, the setting in an early 1990s nursing home was believable as it needed to be to make the issues of the day stand out. Mrs Holt (Gay Evans) automatically thinks the male nurse Jack (Pete Ricardo) is a doctor and that her grandaughter, Rachel (Sarah Daphne), is barking up the wrong tree seeking promotion in her law firm rather than concentrating on marriage and becoming a mother.
Historically speaking the script takes liberties. The nursing homes that I knew in this period did not have such fully qualified staff in permanent positions to provide the continuity of relationship and treatment that nurse Julie (Sarah Ritchie) and sister Vera (Cerri Davis) rightly insist upon. Mrs Holt’s quick mind and analytical conversation was also an extreme rarity in my experience. But Evans makes her character into a central figure, taking control of her last days, who leaves those providing care for her with positive lessons about what this means. They learn to respect her independence and respect each other.
Scene changes were a little clunky, especially with so many in an 80 minute play, and pacing a little slow when I saw the show last Friday, but the audience soon became engaged, responding to the humour, recognising the issues and applauding the Canberra Dramatics team warmly at curtain call.
©Frank McKone, Canberra
Wednesday 30 July 2008
2008: A Fair Arrangement by Sam Floyd
A Fair Arrangement by Sam Floyd. Freshly Ground Theatre directed by Remy Coll, QL2 Theatre, Gorman House Arts Centre, Wednesday July 30 – Friday August 1 and Tuesday – Saturday August 5-9, 7.30pm. Bookings: Ring 0450 067 322 (5-8pm).
“Do you want a hand cleaning up?” asks 28 year old husband Craig of his 28 year old wife Trish. “No, it’s fine,” she says. “There’s not much mess.”
But, of course, there is. Not on the dining room table where the casserole was never served. Sean had offered to help Trish by taking it out of the oven, but was “too busy” under the table with 28 year old Liv, so it burnt dry while, on the lounge room couch, Trish tried to show Liv’s 28 year old husband Sean how to properly respect her. Liv, that is, but ….
On the face of it, this could be a superficial sitcom, but Floyd’s writing and Coll’s directing keep the feeling natural, allowing humour and irony to flow from the characters and how they relate to each other. It’s nice to see modern young Canberrans reflecting upon their own lives honestly and without pretension. It makes great theatre, with evenly balanced ensemble playing by Tom Watson as the cynical wit Craig, Bryony Stokes as the down to earth student of clinical psychology Trish, Jasmine De Martin as the less-than-intellectual sexy Liv, and Sam Floyd as Sean, a money-making manipulator.
Freshly Ground Theatre sounds like what Starbucks needs right now, but there is more depth to this work than mere coffee-shop chit chat. Trish is an observer of the others, trying to establish a kind of professional distance, while she cannot escape the fact that here is her husband and her friend who is not treated well by her husband who sees Trish as his next conquest. There is no academic debate, no great dramatic climax, but philosophical and emotional conundrums make us laugh while we think. Is the arrangement fair? Are affairs OK?
The FGT team is a new independent theatre, consisting of 20+ year olds about town with backgrounds in college drama. They have local performing and backstage experience coming together around Floyd, the writer, whose next work Not Axel Harrison will be presented in November. If A Fair Arrangement is anything to go by, Freshly Ground Theatre is one to watch.
©Frank McKone, Canberra
“Do you want a hand cleaning up?” asks 28 year old husband Craig of his 28 year old wife Trish. “No, it’s fine,” she says. “There’s not much mess.”
But, of course, there is. Not on the dining room table where the casserole was never served. Sean had offered to help Trish by taking it out of the oven, but was “too busy” under the table with 28 year old Liv, so it burnt dry while, on the lounge room couch, Trish tried to show Liv’s 28 year old husband Sean how to properly respect her. Liv, that is, but ….
On the face of it, this could be a superficial sitcom, but Floyd’s writing and Coll’s directing keep the feeling natural, allowing humour and irony to flow from the characters and how they relate to each other. It’s nice to see modern young Canberrans reflecting upon their own lives honestly and without pretension. It makes great theatre, with evenly balanced ensemble playing by Tom Watson as the cynical wit Craig, Bryony Stokes as the down to earth student of clinical psychology Trish, Jasmine De Martin as the less-than-intellectual sexy Liv, and Sam Floyd as Sean, a money-making manipulator.
Freshly Ground Theatre sounds like what Starbucks needs right now, but there is more depth to this work than mere coffee-shop chit chat. Trish is an observer of the others, trying to establish a kind of professional distance, while she cannot escape the fact that here is her husband and her friend who is not treated well by her husband who sees Trish as his next conquest. There is no academic debate, no great dramatic climax, but philosophical and emotional conundrums make us laugh while we think. Is the arrangement fair? Are affairs OK?
The FGT team is a new independent theatre, consisting of 20+ year olds about town with backgrounds in college drama. They have local performing and backstage experience coming together around Floyd, the writer, whose next work Not Axel Harrison will be presented in November. If A Fair Arrangement is anything to go by, Freshly Ground Theatre is one to watch.
©Frank McKone, Canberra
Tuesday 3 June 2008
2008: Shorter+Sweeter.
Shorter+Sweeter. 9 short plays from the Short+Sweet Festival at Canberra Playhouse Tuesday June 3 to Saturday June 7, 8pm.
This is entertainment plus, certainly in short chunks but not sweet in the sentimental sense.
Mark Cleary’s Upwardly with Sophie Cook is an opening that rings true. In Moving Fast by Adam Gelin, Roger (Alan Flower) shows Susan (Olivia Solomon) how easy it is to change the world. Changing residences is a bargain of sorts for Louie (Sophie Cook) and Betty (Christine Greenough) in Catherine Cresswell’s This Bitch Called Home. The last moments of the dog, in Borys the Rottweiler, by Christopher Johnson, are played with great tenderness by Heath Wilder, while Matthew (Johan Walraven) has just the technique to soften the shock for Claire (Sophie Cook) of waking up in his bed, in Saturday Night Newtown, Sunday Morning Enmore by Alex Broun, with no idea how she got there.
After a decent interval, the six actors give us the amusing musical solution to The Keys to the Mystic Halls of Time by Matt Casarino, the frightening experience of a briefcase on a train platform in The Example by Tom Taylor, the horror of Himmler’s lampshade in Relics by Iain Triffitt and Brett Danalake, and the final embarrassment of Adam and Eve in Paradise by Steven Hopley.
Felicity Burke and Alex Galeazzi are directors in addition to Cleary, Gelin and Cresswell.
The Short+Sweet Festival is a great example of professional-standard independent theatre which has grown out of the demise of the Sydney Festival Fringe. Over 200 plays are premiered in Sydney, Melbourne and Singapore each year, with plans for expansion to Malaysia and other countries. This program is a selection of nine of the best, gaining funding support from Playing Australia and Arts on Tour NSW as well as corporate sponsorship. They are sharply observed, humorous, ironic and touching scripts, well deserving of this support and the cooperative arrangements provided by the Canberra Theatre Centre.
Variations on the theme are the ShortSweet+Song Festival held at the Seymour Centre, Sydney, in March, sponsored by the Australian Institute of Music, and the Fast+Fresh Festival for writers and performers under 18. This should be of great interest to Canberra’s college drama departments. The ten-minute script is a disciplined constraint and a great learning device. Go to www.shortandsweet.org/fast-and-fresh .
And in the meantime don’t miss Shorter+Sweeter - the best of the best.
©Frank McKone, Canberra
This is entertainment plus, certainly in short chunks but not sweet in the sentimental sense.
Mark Cleary’s Upwardly with Sophie Cook is an opening that rings true. In Moving Fast by Adam Gelin, Roger (Alan Flower) shows Susan (Olivia Solomon) how easy it is to change the world. Changing residences is a bargain of sorts for Louie (Sophie Cook) and Betty (Christine Greenough) in Catherine Cresswell’s This Bitch Called Home. The last moments of the dog, in Borys the Rottweiler, by Christopher Johnson, are played with great tenderness by Heath Wilder, while Matthew (Johan Walraven) has just the technique to soften the shock for Claire (Sophie Cook) of waking up in his bed, in Saturday Night Newtown, Sunday Morning Enmore by Alex Broun, with no idea how she got there.
After a decent interval, the six actors give us the amusing musical solution to The Keys to the Mystic Halls of Time by Matt Casarino, the frightening experience of a briefcase on a train platform in The Example by Tom Taylor, the horror of Himmler’s lampshade in Relics by Iain Triffitt and Brett Danalake, and the final embarrassment of Adam and Eve in Paradise by Steven Hopley.
Felicity Burke and Alex Galeazzi are directors in addition to Cleary, Gelin and Cresswell.
The Short+Sweet Festival is a great example of professional-standard independent theatre which has grown out of the demise of the Sydney Festival Fringe. Over 200 plays are premiered in Sydney, Melbourne and Singapore each year, with plans for expansion to Malaysia and other countries. This program is a selection of nine of the best, gaining funding support from Playing Australia and Arts on Tour NSW as well as corporate sponsorship. They are sharply observed, humorous, ironic and touching scripts, well deserving of this support and the cooperative arrangements provided by the Canberra Theatre Centre.
Variations on the theme are the ShortSweet+Song Festival held at the Seymour Centre, Sydney, in March, sponsored by the Australian Institute of Music, and the Fast+Fresh Festival for writers and performers under 18. This should be of great interest to Canberra’s college drama departments. The ten-minute script is a disciplined constraint and a great learning device. Go to www.shortandsweet.org/fast-and-fresh .
And in the meantime don’t miss Shorter+Sweeter - the best of the best.
©Frank McKone, Canberra
Friday 9 May 2008
2008: Pink Floyd’s The Wall by Roger Waters
Pink Floyd’s The Wall by Roger Waters. Additional material by David Gilmour and Bob Ezrin. Original adaptation and direction by Ron Dowd, music arranged by Ewan Putnam-Hargreaves and directed by Garrick Smith, choreography by Belynda Buck, costumes by Suzan Cooper, set design by Brian Sudding, Ron Dowd and Ian Croker, lighting design by Chris Neal, audio design by Chris Shackleton. Supa Productions in association with ANU and papermoon at ANU Arts Centre Wed-Sat May 9-24, 8pm, Sat matinees 2pm. Bookings: 1300 737 363 or Dinner and Show at Vivaldi’s 6257 2718.
What I like about this show is that now I understand what The Wall is all about. Dowd’s new stage version fixes the two problems I had with the original Pink Floyd presentations. On stage in the 1980s the band sang and played with exciting, often explosive, visuals. In the film, realistic short scenes had the songs as a soundtrack, which oddly kept the emotions cooled. Dowd tells the story, and at last the drama is integrated with the music. The songs are his characters’ dialogue, and we understand what they mean.
We see Pink struggling to maintain his sanity against his mother’s need to protect him, his teachers’ need to make him conform, his record industry’s managers’ need to profit from his talent, his realisation that the World War 2 in which his father died was global madness, his sense of guilt for not being able to relate to his wife with the sensitivity she deserves. No wonder he builds a wall to try to hide behind. George Huitker does an excellent job representing this character, unable in the end to resist the power seen on stage in the evil figure of the MC, the Master of Ceremonies, who revels in Pink’s destruction as the Wall collapses to the sound of the atomic bomb explosions which brought WW2 to its bitter end.
Especially impressive is the quality of the musicianship from the band and the singers. The ANU Arts Centre has the feel of the huge concerts of yesteryear, yet we are close and intimate enough, for example, to feel for mother, the young Pink and the adult Pink as Kath Dunham, Will Huang and Huitker sing this complex trio in the song Mother. As Pink himself turns into the fascist he hates, we feel directly threatened, personally guilty that we daily play our part on the side of the MC and do not protect and support the artist.
Supa have made real music theatre in The Wall. Don’t imagine you need to be a Pink Floyd fan to appreciate this work. Dowd’s adaptation brings Roger Waters’ creation to life, Putnam-Hargreaves’ arrangement is top concert rock - sounding better to me than Waters himself, the lighting, set design, choreography and costumes are dramatic in their own right, the musicians and singers perform their hearts out. Don’t miss it.
©Frank McKone, Canberra
What I like about this show is that now I understand what The Wall is all about. Dowd’s new stage version fixes the two problems I had with the original Pink Floyd presentations. On stage in the 1980s the band sang and played with exciting, often explosive, visuals. In the film, realistic short scenes had the songs as a soundtrack, which oddly kept the emotions cooled. Dowd tells the story, and at last the drama is integrated with the music. The songs are his characters’ dialogue, and we understand what they mean.
We see Pink struggling to maintain his sanity against his mother’s need to protect him, his teachers’ need to make him conform, his record industry’s managers’ need to profit from his talent, his realisation that the World War 2 in which his father died was global madness, his sense of guilt for not being able to relate to his wife with the sensitivity she deserves. No wonder he builds a wall to try to hide behind. George Huitker does an excellent job representing this character, unable in the end to resist the power seen on stage in the evil figure of the MC, the Master of Ceremonies, who revels in Pink’s destruction as the Wall collapses to the sound of the atomic bomb explosions which brought WW2 to its bitter end.
Especially impressive is the quality of the musicianship from the band and the singers. The ANU Arts Centre has the feel of the huge concerts of yesteryear, yet we are close and intimate enough, for example, to feel for mother, the young Pink and the adult Pink as Kath Dunham, Will Huang and Huitker sing this complex trio in the song Mother. As Pink himself turns into the fascist he hates, we feel directly threatened, personally guilty that we daily play our part on the side of the MC and do not protect and support the artist.
Supa have made real music theatre in The Wall. Don’t imagine you need to be a Pink Floyd fan to appreciate this work. Dowd’s adaptation brings Roger Waters’ creation to life, Putnam-Hargreaves’ arrangement is top concert rock - sounding better to me than Waters himself, the lighting, set design, choreography and costumes are dramatic in their own right, the musicians and singers perform their hearts out. Don’t miss it.
©Frank McKone, Canberra
Thursday 8 May 2008
2008: It Was That Way When I Got Here by Andrew Hackwill and Jonathan Flack
It Was That Way When I Got Here. Musical comedy written and directed by Andrew Hackwill and Jonathan Flack. A PhoenixRising world premiere, Phoenix Players at Theatre 3, May 8, 9 and 10 at 8pm; 10 and 11 at 2pm.
It’s hard to imagine such a zany funny musical running for only five performances. Under the direction of Ian McLean the 1st XV Orchestra is terrific, there is a wealth of good singing from men and women, costumes by Christine Pawlicki are bright and hilarious, dancing is disciplined (by Lisa Buckley), set (by Brian Sudding) is simple, lit well and works perfectly.
The songs are witty, reminding me of anything from Gilbert and Sullivan to My Fair Lady, and each is a take-off of a different style from Gospel to Sondheim, with a special nod at the smooth Dean Martin. The plot is a bit hard to follow at times, but that is as it should be in this wildly multicultural school which I could only see as a truly Australian iconoclastic kind-of Catholic version of Vicar of Dibley madness. Certainly not politically correct, and with many sexual references.
The only problem on opening night was audio balance - the band often drowned the singers - made worse by radio mikes working intermittently. But the cast were so well-rehearsed that no-one missed a beat. Though, at the end of the day, this is a production by a local community theatre group with the attendant difficulties that a fully professional theatre company would not face, I am sure there would be a willing audience for a longer season which the commitment and obvious enjoyment of the cast and musicians deserve.
The Phoenix Players’ PhoenixRising program to help new writers get their work on stage has paid off with It Was That Way When I Got Here. It’s thoroughly madcap, but there is some method after all in a priestly-robed school principal carrying his “bible”, entitled Religion for Dummies. Enough said. Enjoy.
©Frank McKone, Canberra
It’s hard to imagine such a zany funny musical running for only five performances. Under the direction of Ian McLean the 1st XV Orchestra is terrific, there is a wealth of good singing from men and women, costumes by Christine Pawlicki are bright and hilarious, dancing is disciplined (by Lisa Buckley), set (by Brian Sudding) is simple, lit well and works perfectly.
The songs are witty, reminding me of anything from Gilbert and Sullivan to My Fair Lady, and each is a take-off of a different style from Gospel to Sondheim, with a special nod at the smooth Dean Martin. The plot is a bit hard to follow at times, but that is as it should be in this wildly multicultural school which I could only see as a truly Australian iconoclastic kind-of Catholic version of Vicar of Dibley madness. Certainly not politically correct, and with many sexual references.
The only problem on opening night was audio balance - the band often drowned the singers - made worse by radio mikes working intermittently. But the cast were so well-rehearsed that no-one missed a beat. Though, at the end of the day, this is a production by a local community theatre group with the attendant difficulties that a fully professional theatre company would not face, I am sure there would be a willing audience for a longer season which the commitment and obvious enjoyment of the cast and musicians deserve.
The Phoenix Players’ PhoenixRising program to help new writers get their work on stage has paid off with It Was That Way When I Got Here. It’s thoroughly madcap, but there is some method after all in a priestly-robed school principal carrying his “bible”, entitled Religion for Dummies. Enough said. Enjoy.
©Frank McKone, Canberra
Friday 2 May 2008
2008: Rebel Without a Cause by James Fuller
Rebel Without a Cause by James Fuller, based on the screenplay by Stewart Stern from an adaptation by Irving Shulman from a story by Nicholas Ray. Free-Rain Theatre directed by Anne Somes. Courtyard Studio, Canberra Theatre, May 1-17, 2008, Thursdays-Saturdays 8pm, Pay What You Can Wednesdays 6.30pm, Matinees Saturdays May 10 and 17 2pm. Bookings 6275 2700.
The stage adaptation of this 1955 film is a comic strip version, a storyboard designed to show the key bits of the plot and make sure we get the message that teenagers must break parental bonds. In an America where mothers keep handguns and classmates sport flick knives as a matter of course, young men’s lives are at risk as they establish their independent pecking order. Jim wins his Judy, while gangleader Buzz and oddball Plato die.
Director Somes rose to the challenge of making this unlikely material work. Avoiding naturalism, stylising the action - down to almost choreographed staccato movement even including scene changes, using exaggerated New York accents, projected images and dramatic background music, set in lots of symbolic black and contrasting red, Somes stirs our emotions and builds a surprising level of tension in the final scene despite the absurdity of the situation as, next to Plato’s dead body, Jim hugs his reconciled parents and introduces Judy to them. With dancing and singing, it could almost have been West Side Story, except that would have made it a parody.
Is the play still relevant? Perhaps. The simple clarity of this production makes us think. Rebel Without a Cause could mean that Jim and Judy had no real reason to reject their parents’ behaviour. Yet we see parents who reject their children’s behaviour, or can’t talk to them sensibly about social realities. Or the title could mean that if you are going to rebel, you should have a definite aim to achieve - a cause celebre. But all Jim can say is that although he has everything and is “well fed”, he just feels like a “tiger in a cage” and has to escape. Is this all that a wealthy society can offer? To escape with no idea of what to do next, except fall in love, become parents and go round the cycle again, is a bleak view of life.
Or maybe to binge-drink or, tragically, [currently in the news] take 14 people out on Sydney Harbour in a stolen unsuitable runabout at 2am? Is that the best we can offer fifty years later? Maybe Free-Rain’s showing us Rebel Without a Cause does have a point. It makes us think.
©Frank McKone, Canberra
The stage adaptation of this 1955 film is a comic strip version, a storyboard designed to show the key bits of the plot and make sure we get the message that teenagers must break parental bonds. In an America where mothers keep handguns and classmates sport flick knives as a matter of course, young men’s lives are at risk as they establish their independent pecking order. Jim wins his Judy, while gangleader Buzz and oddball Plato die.
Director Somes rose to the challenge of making this unlikely material work. Avoiding naturalism, stylising the action - down to almost choreographed staccato movement even including scene changes, using exaggerated New York accents, projected images and dramatic background music, set in lots of symbolic black and contrasting red, Somes stirs our emotions and builds a surprising level of tension in the final scene despite the absurdity of the situation as, next to Plato’s dead body, Jim hugs his reconciled parents and introduces Judy to them. With dancing and singing, it could almost have been West Side Story, except that would have made it a parody.
Is the play still relevant? Perhaps. The simple clarity of this production makes us think. Rebel Without a Cause could mean that Jim and Judy had no real reason to reject their parents’ behaviour. Yet we see parents who reject their children’s behaviour, or can’t talk to them sensibly about social realities. Or the title could mean that if you are going to rebel, you should have a definite aim to achieve - a cause celebre. But all Jim can say is that although he has everything and is “well fed”, he just feels like a “tiger in a cage” and has to escape. Is this all that a wealthy society can offer? To escape with no idea of what to do next, except fall in love, become parents and go round the cycle again, is a bleak view of life.
Or maybe to binge-drink or, tragically, [currently in the news] take 14 people out on Sydney Harbour in a stolen unsuitable runabout at 2am? Is that the best we can offer fifty years later? Maybe Free-Rain’s showing us Rebel Without a Cause does have a point. It makes us think.
©Frank McKone, Canberra
Saturday 12 April 2008
2008: Berlin Cabaret of Desire by Paul Barrett, John Verryt and Jennifer Ward-Lealand
Berlin Cabaret of Desire conceived by Paul Barrett, John Verryt and Jennifer Ward-Lealand of Silo Theatre, Auckland. Directed by Naomi Brouwer at The Street Theatre, April 11-12, 15-19, 22-26, 2008, at 8pm, Matinees: 13 & 20 April at 4pm.
Bookings: 6247 1223 or online www.thestreet.org.au
Silo Theatre has an established program dedicated to presenting what I might call Art Theatre. The nearest equivalent in Sydney might be Belvoir B. The Street Theatre has a program made up by collecting all sorts of productions for a wide range of audiences. This presentation of Berlin Cabaret of Desire is a brave attempt, reasonably successful, but unable to match the quality required by the material.
Prior publicity gave the impression that we would experience the “lust and anarchy of the Weimar Republic”, but the show consists of songs by Mischa Spoliansky, Frederick Hollander and Kurt Weill whose work focussed on biting political satire, some of which originally appeared in Berlin cabarets in the 1920s and 1930s, while much of Weill’s work was written for plays by Bertolt Brecht. Of the three singers, Stephen Anderson was the most consistent, Justine Campbell succeeded in the lighter comedy, while both Campbell and Ruth Rogers-Wright struggled, though sincerely, with the more difficult Weill material in particular.
The band was rarely able to produce the gutsy harshness of tone and rhythm which Weill requires, being rather too smooth and sonorous, though the music certainly held the show together, and its leader Tim Hansen on piano made a successful MC.
The result overall was enjoyable, while the aerial acrobatic performances by Tyler Ayres were exciting. Even though it was not clear why these were included, Ayres’ fluidity of movement and demanding choreography focussed attention and justifiably received the most applause. The other highlights, in my view, were the song of hypocrisy and democracy - Hollander’s Oh How We Wish That We Were Kids Again - and the beautifully sung but by now ironic ending, Die Lorelei.
©Frank McKone, Canberra
Bookings: 6247 1223 or online www.thestreet.org.au
Silo Theatre has an established program dedicated to presenting what I might call Art Theatre. The nearest equivalent in Sydney might be Belvoir B. The Street Theatre has a program made up by collecting all sorts of productions for a wide range of audiences. This presentation of Berlin Cabaret of Desire is a brave attempt, reasonably successful, but unable to match the quality required by the material.
Prior publicity gave the impression that we would experience the “lust and anarchy of the Weimar Republic”, but the show consists of songs by Mischa Spoliansky, Frederick Hollander and Kurt Weill whose work focussed on biting political satire, some of which originally appeared in Berlin cabarets in the 1920s and 1930s, while much of Weill’s work was written for plays by Bertolt Brecht. Of the three singers, Stephen Anderson was the most consistent, Justine Campbell succeeded in the lighter comedy, while both Campbell and Ruth Rogers-Wright struggled, though sincerely, with the more difficult Weill material in particular.
The band was rarely able to produce the gutsy harshness of tone and rhythm which Weill requires, being rather too smooth and sonorous, though the music certainly held the show together, and its leader Tim Hansen on piano made a successful MC.
The result overall was enjoyable, while the aerial acrobatic performances by Tyler Ayres were exciting. Even though it was not clear why these were included, Ayres’ fluidity of movement and demanding choreography focussed attention and justifiably received the most applause. The other highlights, in my view, were the song of hypocrisy and democracy - Hollander’s Oh How We Wish That We Were Kids Again - and the beautifully sung but by now ironic ending, Die Lorelei.
©Frank McKone, Canberra
Friday 4 April 2008
2008: Chloe Dallimore in Cabaret
Chloe Dallimore in Cabaret with David Cashman on piano. Teatro Vivaldi dinner and show, April 4-5, 2008.
Cuisine - exciting; entertainment - dull. Go for the dinner, not for the show.
My title would be Stagestruck – The Musical. Plot consists of random name-dropping anecdotes (Patrick Swayze, Liza Minelli etc. etc. etc.), regular reminders that Chloe goes to New York, details of David’s car deodorant.
Action consists of incy-wincy spider type arm movements, with occasional whole body shimmers – sexy or funny (or superficially titillating) according to your taste. Dallimore’s voice in low register is strong for easy listening, but at big stage volume and high pitch in this intimate venue her tone loses roundness and becomes mere blast.
Dallimore’s main claim to fame is for her comic Swedish character, Ulla, in The Producers, but even her brief demonstration which concludes this show was no more than mildly funny. She began with what promised to be an interesting interpretation of All That Jazz, until it rose into blast-level volume without feeling. Too many songs had the same format, while those that avoided blast, such as My One True Friend, turned all gooey and sentimental.
The most dramatic moment was when singer and pianist lost contact and their place and had to start again. Irony stepped in with Bette Midler’s words “let me stumble, and be surprised”.
The patter was mere pitter-patter, coming over as little homilies, rather condescending to us on the receiving end – even though she praised us for being a “magical” audience at the end. Though some responded as expected to the mention of celebrities, applause was not much more than polite.
My conclusion is that Dallimore should stick to the big musical stage. She does not have the warmth and directness of communication with an audience needed for intimate cabaret, nor has she put together a dramatic narrative for her songs to give the evening a sense of drive and purpose. The result is bland, in great contrast with the atmosphere, and the cooking, at Teatro Vivaldi.
©Frank McKone, Canberra
Cuisine - exciting; entertainment - dull. Go for the dinner, not for the show.
My title would be Stagestruck – The Musical. Plot consists of random name-dropping anecdotes (Patrick Swayze, Liza Minelli etc. etc. etc.), regular reminders that Chloe goes to New York, details of David’s car deodorant.
Action consists of incy-wincy spider type arm movements, with occasional whole body shimmers – sexy or funny (or superficially titillating) according to your taste. Dallimore’s voice in low register is strong for easy listening, but at big stage volume and high pitch in this intimate venue her tone loses roundness and becomes mere blast.
Dallimore’s main claim to fame is for her comic Swedish character, Ulla, in The Producers, but even her brief demonstration which concludes this show was no more than mildly funny. She began with what promised to be an interesting interpretation of All That Jazz, until it rose into blast-level volume without feeling. Too many songs had the same format, while those that avoided blast, such as My One True Friend, turned all gooey and sentimental.
The most dramatic moment was when singer and pianist lost contact and their place and had to start again. Irony stepped in with Bette Midler’s words “let me stumble, and be surprised”.
The patter was mere pitter-patter, coming over as little homilies, rather condescending to us on the receiving end – even though she praised us for being a “magical” audience at the end. Though some responded as expected to the mention of celebrities, applause was not much more than polite.
My conclusion is that Dallimore should stick to the big musical stage. She does not have the warmth and directness of communication with an audience needed for intimate cabaret, nor has she put together a dramatic narrative for her songs to give the evening a sense of drive and purpose. The result is bland, in great contrast with the atmosphere, and the cooking, at Teatro Vivaldi.
©Frank McKone, Canberra
Tuesday 19 February 2008
2008: Menopause the Musical by Jeanie Linders
Menopause the Musical by Jeanie Linders. Director Gary Young, musical director Paul Keelan, choreographer Andrew Hallsworth. Presented by G4 Productions at The Playhouse, Tue & Thu-Fri 8pm, Wed 1pm & 8pm, Sat 2pm & 8pm, Sun 2pm, February 19 – March 2. Bookings 6275 2700.
A woman friend wondered why a man “was sent” to review this high energy “hilarious celebration of women and The Change”. I wasn’t sent. I chose to go, and when I discovered that the director of the Australian production, and the musical director, and the choreographer are all men, I certainly didn’t feel out of place. Having passed, vicariously, through menopause myself, I thoroughly enjoyed the celebration, though not with quite the same sense of identity experienced by many in the audience who clapped, cheered and whistled throughout the show.
The four performers in the Canberra season, Caroline Gillmer (The Power Woman), Carolyn Waddell (The Earth Mother), Donna Lee (The Dubbo Housewife) and Vivien Davies (The Soap Star) are a well-bonded team, all highly skilled singers, dancers and comedians. On opening night I found myself watching the Dubbo Housewife the most, maybe because this character has the most change to go through, from inhibited mouse to shaking all over, but also because Lee communicated so directly with the audience in every scene. Gillmer, I thought, was the most versatile singer. Her Fever was imbued with deeply felt hot flushes. It was great comedy, yet sung with a strength reminiscent of the original Peggy Lee.
Being of a certain age myself, audio quality can be an issue. Volume was no problem. Perhaps there was more than strictly necessary in the relatively small Playhouse. But I find the use of face-microphones a bit disconcerting, because the sound comes down from somewhere on high instead of from the mouths of the actors. These mics have become the norm, but I think a well-mixed array of directed shotgun mics, especially with such good singers in this theatre, can produce realistic stereo and make the sound warmer.
I also think the show lacks a strong story-line, making it basically a song-and-dance show rather than a traditional musical. After the celebration, worthy though that is, and the excellent comic performances, I’m left feeling a bit distant without a gutsy story to remember and reflect on. But maybe, that’s entertainment, and the show should certainly go on.
©Frank McKone, Canberra
A woman friend wondered why a man “was sent” to review this high energy “hilarious celebration of women and The Change”. I wasn’t sent. I chose to go, and when I discovered that the director of the Australian production, and the musical director, and the choreographer are all men, I certainly didn’t feel out of place. Having passed, vicariously, through menopause myself, I thoroughly enjoyed the celebration, though not with quite the same sense of identity experienced by many in the audience who clapped, cheered and whistled throughout the show.
The four performers in the Canberra season, Caroline Gillmer (The Power Woman), Carolyn Waddell (The Earth Mother), Donna Lee (The Dubbo Housewife) and Vivien Davies (The Soap Star) are a well-bonded team, all highly skilled singers, dancers and comedians. On opening night I found myself watching the Dubbo Housewife the most, maybe because this character has the most change to go through, from inhibited mouse to shaking all over, but also because Lee communicated so directly with the audience in every scene. Gillmer, I thought, was the most versatile singer. Her Fever was imbued with deeply felt hot flushes. It was great comedy, yet sung with a strength reminiscent of the original Peggy Lee.
Being of a certain age myself, audio quality can be an issue. Volume was no problem. Perhaps there was more than strictly necessary in the relatively small Playhouse. But I find the use of face-microphones a bit disconcerting, because the sound comes down from somewhere on high instead of from the mouths of the actors. These mics have become the norm, but I think a well-mixed array of directed shotgun mics, especially with such good singers in this theatre, can produce realistic stereo and make the sound warmer.
I also think the show lacks a strong story-line, making it basically a song-and-dance show rather than a traditional musical. After the celebration, worthy though that is, and the excellent comic performances, I’m left feeling a bit distant without a gutsy story to remember and reflect on. But maybe, that’s entertainment, and the show should certainly go on.
©Frank McKone, Canberra
Friday 15 February 2008
2008: Face Value by Australian Theatre of the Deaf
Face Value by Australian Theatre of the Deaf. National Multicultural Festival at The Street Theatre, February 15 and 16.
Face Value is an engaging humorous theatre-in-education show about prejudice, focussing on relationships between “hearies” and “deafies”.
Members of the audience participate, being invited to turn around signs such as “Stereotype” or “Archetype”. On the reverse of the stereotypes are situations like driving, on the internet, in class, diving, in a nightclub, ignorance at high school. The three performers act out two scenes for each heading, one as hearies and one as deafies. Archetypes have names of successful deaf people on the reverse. An audience member is invited on stage to take the podium as if being filmed and reads an information sheet about heroic people.
The show begins with a set of pictures:
Which is the blind person? Which is the Muslim person? And finally, which is the deaf person? The fact that deaf people are not obvious is the source of much of the difficulty they face with hearing people, demonstrated in the acted out scenes. Sample scenes are performed first, showing the frustrations and aggressiveness of hearies. At the end, after the message has been presented in the stereotype scenes, the same sample scenes are shown with sensible hearies who understand that being deaf does not mean being stupid or deliberately obstructive.
The young performers, Bowyn, Michael and Bethany, were expert in mime and communicating with the audience. A sense of fun combined with neatly designed set and props makes an hour seem short, and the message comes through clearly.
I would recommend AToD very highly for schools or perhaps teenage clubs. Details:
Years: 7—12
Duration: 50 minutes + Q & A
Cost: $5.00 per student
Minimum Cost: $600.00 per show (Fees for non school shows by negotiation).
Max. Audience: 300
Teachers’ Kit: Comprehensive kit with activities, information about deaf issues and the issue of prejudice behind the title Face Value.
Requirements: Area 6m x 6m, power outlet, 45 minute set up time
http://www.ozdeaftheatre.com/school/highschool.htm
©Frank McKone, Canberra
Face Value is an engaging humorous theatre-in-education show about prejudice, focussing on relationships between “hearies” and “deafies”.
Members of the audience participate, being invited to turn around signs such as “Stereotype” or “Archetype”. On the reverse of the stereotypes are situations like driving, on the internet, in class, diving, in a nightclub, ignorance at high school. The three performers act out two scenes for each heading, one as hearies and one as deafies. Archetypes have names of successful deaf people on the reverse. An audience member is invited on stage to take the podium as if being filmed and reads an information sheet about heroic people.
The show begins with a set of pictures:
Which is the blind person? Which is the Muslim person? And finally, which is the deaf person? The fact that deaf people are not obvious is the source of much of the difficulty they face with hearing people, demonstrated in the acted out scenes. Sample scenes are performed first, showing the frustrations and aggressiveness of hearies. At the end, after the message has been presented in the stereotype scenes, the same sample scenes are shown with sensible hearies who understand that being deaf does not mean being stupid or deliberately obstructive.
The young performers, Bowyn, Michael and Bethany, were expert in mime and communicating with the audience. A sense of fun combined with neatly designed set and props makes an hour seem short, and the message comes through clearly.
I would recommend AToD very highly for schools or perhaps teenage clubs. Details:
Years: 7—12
Duration: 50 minutes + Q & A
Cost: $5.00 per student
Minimum Cost: $600.00 per show (Fees for non school shows by negotiation).
Max. Audience: 300
Teachers’ Kit: Comprehensive kit with activities, information about deaf issues and the issue of prejudice behind the title Face Value.
Requirements: Area 6m x 6m, power outlet, 45 minute set up time
http://www.ozdeaftheatre.com/school/highschool.htm
©Frank McKone, Canberra
Wednesday 13 February 2008
2008: We Don’t Need Another Euro by Shortis & Simpson
We Don’t Need Another Euro by Shortis & Simpson at Teatro Vivaldi. Wednesday February 13, Friday 15 and Saturday 16 at 7pm for 3 course dinner and show; Saturday February 16 at 2pm for show and high tea. Bookings 6257 2718.
John Shortis and Moya Simpson are icons of Canberra culture, and ditto for dinner at Teatro Vivaldi. This is an enjoyable night out aurally, visually, multiculturally and degustationally. That’s French for wine tasting (ask for the shiraz from Young), but my dictionary says “wine tasting etc”. Vivaldi’s Pacific nouveau cuisine was a lot more than etc and ought not to be missed. High tea on Saturday could be your high point of the week.
Talking of high points, I have to say Moya couldn’t quite match the piercing quality of Cilla Black, which was probably just as well in a small venue. But she captured Judith Durham in The Carnival is Over just right. If you are wondering what happened to the Shortis & Simpson political commentary, just relax. We Don’t Need Another Euro is a whimsical humorous history of European songs which became popular worldwide. You will be surprised, very surprised, at the origin of the Muppets singing Mahna Mahna, which you will enjoy singing yourself while watching Moya recreate a scene from an Italian film set in a Swedish sauna.
Two other high points are the inclusion in the show of special guests. Canbelto a cappella singers joined in for a wonderfully rhythmic and harmonic rendition of the eastern Mediterranean song which became the Australian surfing anthem Bombora. Louise Page, singing the original 17th Century Plaisir d’Amour, was just stunning, and what a beautiful contrast to Simpson’s Elvis Presley singing Can’t Help Falling in Love.
Simpson’s voice seems to me to range more widely as the years go on. Shortis’s research required her to sing in so many languages she became a feature of the Multicultural Festival in her own right. Her comic timing was just right, yet I think a highlight for me, immediately after a frantic New Yorker translating from the original French, was a genuinely affecting performance of Autumn Leaves, in Johnny Mercer’s English and the French of Jacques Prévert.
There’s far more I could tell you, but it would be better to see the show, and enjoy the meal, for yourself.
©Frank McKone, Canberra
John Shortis and Moya Simpson are icons of Canberra culture, and ditto for dinner at Teatro Vivaldi. This is an enjoyable night out aurally, visually, multiculturally and degustationally. That’s French for wine tasting (ask for the shiraz from Young), but my dictionary says “wine tasting etc”. Vivaldi’s Pacific nouveau cuisine was a lot more than etc and ought not to be missed. High tea on Saturday could be your high point of the week.
Talking of high points, I have to say Moya couldn’t quite match the piercing quality of Cilla Black, which was probably just as well in a small venue. But she captured Judith Durham in The Carnival is Over just right. If you are wondering what happened to the Shortis & Simpson political commentary, just relax. We Don’t Need Another Euro is a whimsical humorous history of European songs which became popular worldwide. You will be surprised, very surprised, at the origin of the Muppets singing Mahna Mahna, which you will enjoy singing yourself while watching Moya recreate a scene from an Italian film set in a Swedish sauna.
Two other high points are the inclusion in the show of special guests. Canbelto a cappella singers joined in for a wonderfully rhythmic and harmonic rendition of the eastern Mediterranean song which became the Australian surfing anthem Bombora. Louise Page, singing the original 17th Century Plaisir d’Amour, was just stunning, and what a beautiful contrast to Simpson’s Elvis Presley singing Can’t Help Falling in Love.
Simpson’s voice seems to me to range more widely as the years go on. Shortis’s research required her to sing in so many languages she became a feature of the Multicultural Festival in her own right. Her comic timing was just right, yet I think a highlight for me, immediately after a frantic New Yorker translating from the original French, was a genuinely affecting performance of Autumn Leaves, in Johnny Mercer’s English and the French of Jacques Prévert.
There’s far more I could tell you, but it would be better to see the show, and enjoy the meal, for yourself.
©Frank McKone, Canberra
Tuesday 12 February 2008
2008: The Curse of the Dying Swan by Erika Schneider and Cristine de Mello
The Curse of the Dying Swan. Cristina de Mello Dance Co in the National Multicultural Festival. Written, choreographed and performed by Erika Schneider and Cristine de Mello. Courtyard Theatre, February 12 and 13.
This is a 40 minute piece of apparently naïf dance/narrative, but quite poignant.
It seems to be autobiographical, with a story of the dancers having given up their training 11 years ago. Yet we are left then having to decide if the nice but not perfect ballet work is really the result of 1. not having performed for so long, or 2. because they gave up training when they realised that they were never going to get up to the standard required to dance the dying swan (and haven’t), or 3. because the whole thing is a fiction in which these characters have never become the dancers they once hoped to be.
Reasons 1. and 2. would be really naïve, but brave. And rather sad. How would you feel if you had trained for something like dance from the age of five, come to love doing it, but at fifteen knew that you would never make it to the top. It is risky to tell the story and show it through dance, and we in the audience can sympathise with the dancers’ feelings.
Reason 3. makes the story and the dance work seem disingenuous. We get the idea, but the sense of failure and the feeling of sadness and loss is weakened. This is because when they speak, using their own names and seeming to tell their own stories, we can’t be sure of our ground. In this case how do we know that Cristina and Erika are top-class dancers performing “Cristina” and “Erika” who are less than top-class dancers, when they don’t display top-class technique?
I’m going to plump for Reasons 1. and 2. because I preferred to feel sympathetic and a bit sorry for them, rather than worry about whether I had been cleverly fooled. Perhaps I’m rather naïve, but I feel happier this way.
©Frank McKone, Canberra
This is a 40 minute piece of apparently naïf dance/narrative, but quite poignant.
It seems to be autobiographical, with a story of the dancers having given up their training 11 years ago. Yet we are left then having to decide if the nice but not perfect ballet work is really the result of 1. not having performed for so long, or 2. because they gave up training when they realised that they were never going to get up to the standard required to dance the dying swan (and haven’t), or 3. because the whole thing is a fiction in which these characters have never become the dancers they once hoped to be.
Reasons 1. and 2. would be really naïve, but brave. And rather sad. How would you feel if you had trained for something like dance from the age of five, come to love doing it, but at fifteen knew that you would never make it to the top. It is risky to tell the story and show it through dance, and we in the audience can sympathise with the dancers’ feelings.
Reason 3. makes the story and the dance work seem disingenuous. We get the idea, but the sense of failure and the feeling of sadness and loss is weakened. This is because when they speak, using their own names and seeming to tell their own stories, we can’t be sure of our ground. In this case how do we know that Cristina and Erika are top-class dancers performing “Cristina” and “Erika” who are less than top-class dancers, when they don’t display top-class technique?
I’m going to plump for Reasons 1. and 2. because I preferred to feel sympathetic and a bit sorry for them, rather than worry about whether I had been cleverly fooled. Perhaps I’m rather naïve, but I feel happier this way.
©Frank McKone, Canberra
Saturday 9 February 2008
2008: A Sustainable Arts Sector: What will it take? by Cathy Hunt and Phyllida Shaw. Platform Papers No 15 - Feature article.
How to Make the Arts Sector Sustainable. Public Forum and launch of Platform Papers No 15: A Sustainable Arts Sector: What will it take? by Cathy Hunt and Phyllida Shaw. Presented by Currency House at Belvoir Street Theatre, Sydney, Saturday February 9 2008.
Chaired by the well-known commentator David Marr, some 100 people from arts policy and arts management took part in a lively and informative forum on Saturday February 9 titled How to Make the Arts Sector Sustainable. The key speakers, at Belvoir Street Theatre, Sydney, were the authors of Currency House Platform Papers No 15: A Sustainable Arts Sector: What will it take?, Cathy Hunt and Phyllida Shaw, followed by John Baylis, chair of the Australia Council Theatre Board.
Hunt and Shaw have spoken at forums in Brisbane and Cairns, and will go on to Melbourne and Perth, raising issues of arts policy and funding mechanisms in Australia in the light of the developments in Britain in recent years.
Shaw, associate lecturer in Arts and Cultural Management at University of Sussex and research associate at the Cities Institute, London Metropolitan University, described the evocatively-titled British sustainability programs Advancement, Stabilisation and Thrive!. The word “sustainability”, she said, should be used in the same sense as environmental sustainability.
Hunt, a founding director of the Brisbane strategic arts consultancy Positive Solutions and a consultant for the post-Thatcher Arts Council of England’s first Stabilisation Program in the early 1990s, was concerned that some politicians take sustainability to mean “viability”. In other words, government support for the arts might not mean ensuring the healthy survival of the species, but feeding just enough until it can be left to hopefully survive on its own.
The use of language became an important issue in the discussion phase of the forum. David Marr in his introduction had talked of politicians “putting their hands into the pockets of the nation” but then giving too little, wrongly spent. Quoting playwright Nick Enright, he complained that arts people spend all their time talking about money in the “ dog-eat-dog world of light opera.”
John Baylis seemed to agree that communication has long been a problem within the Australia Council, that “we gather information, but we do not know how to feed back information to the arts sector”, and explaining that applications from individual organisations are expertly assessed with a high degree of integrity, but “we are not good at seeing how to make connections”. In later discussion, various speakers saw the problem as arts people talking arts-talk, without being willing to learn politician-talk, while few politicians understand arts-talk.
This gave rise to argument. If politicians see everything, including the arts, only in economic terms, should arts advocates submit? Katharine Brisbane, co-founder of the Currency Press, dedicated to publishing Australian performing arts, said artists have allowed themselves to become submissive because of the structure of the funding, while another speaker said her research showed that artists are afraid to be honestly self-critical for fear of losing funding.
The conclusion was that artists should stand up confidently and say that sustainability of the arts is, as Hunt said, “about much more than money”. Shaw’s words were that the arts “make people’s lives richer”. Marr said “art gives people the opportunity to transform their lives”. Others said we should not be negative and depressed about the state of the arts because quality and diversity has in fact improved dramatically since the 1970s in Australia. The arts have an essential social value in their own right, and should therefore be supported by government.
Hunt and Shaw had raised practical issues in their speeches. In Britain the arts is given a small percentage of funds from the National Lottery, but this came about by chance and could not be done in Australia, according to some speakers, when the dependence of governments on gambling revenue is under severe criticism (and even the Sydney Opera House cannot get new lottery money for its refurbishment). In Britain, even small to medium organisations can find funding sources of many kinds including from continental Europe. One group in Brighton had 18 grants and sponsorships, for example. Such a range of sources is not available in Australia, and small to medium organisations especially, and individual artists, are struggling.
The big ticket solution suggested by Shaw is for the Federal government to establish a Future Fund for the Arts as an endowment. This would be a permanent source of arts funding, at arms length from day-to-day political pressure. A good model to begin is the British 2007 McMaster Review: Assessing Excellence in the Arts by Sir Brian McMaster, former Director of the Edinburgh International Festival. The approach should be to invest in innovation for its social and cultural value in its own right, across the range of individual artists, small, medium and large organisations, while profitable work could be expected to return some income to the Future Fund for the Arts.
The forum ended with the announcement, to a standing ovation, of a Lifetime Achievement Award by the Sydney Critics’ Circle to Katharine Brisbane for 40 years’ contribution to the performing arts.
Further information: arts management www.positive-solutions.com.au ; Platform Papers info@currencyhouse.org.au ; McMaster Review http://www.culture.gov.uk/what_we_do/Arts/mcmaster_review.htm
©Frank McKone, Canberra
Chaired by the well-known commentator David Marr, some 100 people from arts policy and arts management took part in a lively and informative forum on Saturday February 9 titled How to Make the Arts Sector Sustainable. The key speakers, at Belvoir Street Theatre, Sydney, were the authors of Currency House Platform Papers No 15: A Sustainable Arts Sector: What will it take?, Cathy Hunt and Phyllida Shaw, followed by John Baylis, chair of the Australia Council Theatre Board.
Hunt and Shaw have spoken at forums in Brisbane and Cairns, and will go on to Melbourne and Perth, raising issues of arts policy and funding mechanisms in Australia in the light of the developments in Britain in recent years.
Shaw, associate lecturer in Arts and Cultural Management at University of Sussex and research associate at the Cities Institute, London Metropolitan University, described the evocatively-titled British sustainability programs Advancement, Stabilisation and Thrive!. The word “sustainability”, she said, should be used in the same sense as environmental sustainability.
Hunt, a founding director of the Brisbane strategic arts consultancy Positive Solutions and a consultant for the post-Thatcher Arts Council of England’s first Stabilisation Program in the early 1990s, was concerned that some politicians take sustainability to mean “viability”. In other words, government support for the arts might not mean ensuring the healthy survival of the species, but feeding just enough until it can be left to hopefully survive on its own.
The use of language became an important issue in the discussion phase of the forum. David Marr in his introduction had talked of politicians “putting their hands into the pockets of the nation” but then giving too little, wrongly spent. Quoting playwright Nick Enright, he complained that arts people spend all their time talking about money in the “ dog-eat-dog world of light opera.”
John Baylis seemed to agree that communication has long been a problem within the Australia Council, that “we gather information, but we do not know how to feed back information to the arts sector”, and explaining that applications from individual organisations are expertly assessed with a high degree of integrity, but “we are not good at seeing how to make connections”. In later discussion, various speakers saw the problem as arts people talking arts-talk, without being willing to learn politician-talk, while few politicians understand arts-talk.
This gave rise to argument. If politicians see everything, including the arts, only in economic terms, should arts advocates submit? Katharine Brisbane, co-founder of the Currency Press, dedicated to publishing Australian performing arts, said artists have allowed themselves to become submissive because of the structure of the funding, while another speaker said her research showed that artists are afraid to be honestly self-critical for fear of losing funding.
The conclusion was that artists should stand up confidently and say that sustainability of the arts is, as Hunt said, “about much more than money”. Shaw’s words were that the arts “make people’s lives richer”. Marr said “art gives people the opportunity to transform their lives”. Others said we should not be negative and depressed about the state of the arts because quality and diversity has in fact improved dramatically since the 1970s in Australia. The arts have an essential social value in their own right, and should therefore be supported by government.
Hunt and Shaw had raised practical issues in their speeches. In Britain the arts is given a small percentage of funds from the National Lottery, but this came about by chance and could not be done in Australia, according to some speakers, when the dependence of governments on gambling revenue is under severe criticism (and even the Sydney Opera House cannot get new lottery money for its refurbishment). In Britain, even small to medium organisations can find funding sources of many kinds including from continental Europe. One group in Brighton had 18 grants and sponsorships, for example. Such a range of sources is not available in Australia, and small to medium organisations especially, and individual artists, are struggling.
The big ticket solution suggested by Shaw is for the Federal government to establish a Future Fund for the Arts as an endowment. This would be a permanent source of arts funding, at arms length from day-to-day political pressure. A good model to begin is the British 2007 McMaster Review: Assessing Excellence in the Arts by Sir Brian McMaster, former Director of the Edinburgh International Festival. The approach should be to invest in innovation for its social and cultural value in its own right, across the range of individual artists, small, medium and large organisations, while profitable work could be expected to return some income to the Future Fund for the Arts.
The forum ended with the announcement, to a standing ovation, of a Lifetime Achievement Award by the Sydney Critics’ Circle to Katharine Brisbane for 40 years’ contribution to the performing arts.
Further information: arts management www.positive-solutions.com.au ; Platform Papers info@currencyhouse.org.au ; McMaster Review http://www.culture.gov.uk/what_we_do/Arts/mcmaster_review.htm
©Frank McKone, Canberra
Thursday 17 January 2008
2008: Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson, adapted by Joseph George Caruso
Treasure Island from the novel by Robert Louis Stevenson, adapted by Joseph George Caruso. Free Rain Theatre directed by Anne Somes. Courtyard Studio, Canberra Theatre Centre, Wednesdays to Sundays January 16-27, 2pm (45 mins, no interval). Bookings: 6275 2700.
This is a highly rumbustious performance which I recommend for children from about 7 years of age. The play is entirely plot driven, in every sense of the word, and the pirates are very loud and very funny. I fear younger children might be a’feard, but for the right age (and for their adult minders) it’s all good indelicate fun.
The pirate crew are suitably devious, ebullient and wonderfully nasty. I’m sure they all studied Pirates of the Caribbean for their parts, but I must say that David Villanti makes Captain Billy Bones and (after he dies), Long John Silver into rum characters without looking a bit like Johnny Depp.
Threats of violence and death make up a large part of this rollicking story, and by the way show how romantic Robert Louis Stevenson was about piracy. Maybe Greenpeace should take up his approach, considering the success of Treasure Island since 1883. I recall the characters from my childhood in a quite friendly light despite Stevenson telling the story in a serious frame of mind. Perhaps this production is not true to the book, being almost a spoof, but at least it maintains Stevenson’s myth, enhanced later in Peter Pan, of pirates being essentially good at heart (except that Long John Silver didn’t have a parrot, much to my disappointment).
It’s pure entertainment, quite different from Free Rain’s other presentation, on the same days, of The Secret Garden, and I think for a smaller age range – say, 6-14.
Presenting theatre for children is a new direction for Free Rain. The 2008 program includes Jack and the Beanstalk in April, and The Jungle Book in July.
©Frank McKone, Canberra
This is a highly rumbustious performance which I recommend for children from about 7 years of age. The play is entirely plot driven, in every sense of the word, and the pirates are very loud and very funny. I fear younger children might be a’feard, but for the right age (and for their adult minders) it’s all good indelicate fun.
The pirate crew are suitably devious, ebullient and wonderfully nasty. I’m sure they all studied Pirates of the Caribbean for their parts, but I must say that David Villanti makes Captain Billy Bones and (after he dies), Long John Silver into rum characters without looking a bit like Johnny Depp.
Threats of violence and death make up a large part of this rollicking story, and by the way show how romantic Robert Louis Stevenson was about piracy. Maybe Greenpeace should take up his approach, considering the success of Treasure Island since 1883. I recall the characters from my childhood in a quite friendly light despite Stevenson telling the story in a serious frame of mind. Perhaps this production is not true to the book, being almost a spoof, but at least it maintains Stevenson’s myth, enhanced later in Peter Pan, of pirates being essentially good at heart (except that Long John Silver didn’t have a parrot, much to my disappointment).
It’s pure entertainment, quite different from Free Rain’s other presentation, on the same days, of The Secret Garden, and I think for a smaller age range – say, 6-14.
Presenting theatre for children is a new direction for Free Rain. The 2008 program includes Jack and the Beanstalk in April, and The Jungle Book in July.
©Frank McKone, Canberra
2008: The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett
The Secret Garden from the novel by Frances Hodgson Burnett. Music and lyrics by Bill Francoeur. Book by Tim Kelly. Free Rain Theatre directed by Anne Somes. Courtyard Studio, Canberra Theatre Centre, Wednesdays to Sundays January 16-27, 10.30am (1hour 45mins with interval). Bookings: 6275 2700.
This musical play version is definitely as good as reading the original novel, according to one family with four children interviewed by The Canberra Times after last Thursday’s performance. This is because the characters and human relationships are true to the novel, even though theatrical devices are used to entertain us in a style which readers may not expect.
This adaptation and its interpretation in action neatly weaves song, dance and dialogue to create emotional effects from humour and concern for people’s welfare through to a sense of achievement in a satisfying conclusion. This gives children in the audience a genuine theatre experience which kept even two-year-olds watching, while from an adult point of view may be even better than the novel. What could be read as a sentimental story has been directed by Somes so that songs are both cheerful and reflective, allowing the story to be told simply and clearly.
The cast of 16 was remarkable for working so well as an ensemble, while each is an individual character worth watching in their own right. Experienced actors like Lainie Hart – wonderful as Mrs Sowerby – gave leadership to younger performers such as Samantha Wood, playing the lead role of Mary Lennox. The warmth of their camaraderie flowed off the stage into the audience, so even the very young could believe in the turnaround in the feelings of self-worth for Colin (Jack Taylor) and his father Archibald Craven (Andy McLeod).
My only criticism would be that the overly cheerful reprise of the happy family song as the curtain call, though thematically justifiable, was a rather too sudden change in mood from the quiet recognition of the new emotional security established in the final scene. I would have liked the audience to have had the opportunity to thank the performers with applause at that moment, with perhaps just the magical memories song to conclude.
But one small quibble should not distract readers from taking their children to a highly successful production of The Secret Garden.
©Frank McKone, Canberra
This musical play version is definitely as good as reading the original novel, according to one family with four children interviewed by The Canberra Times after last Thursday’s performance. This is because the characters and human relationships are true to the novel, even though theatrical devices are used to entertain us in a style which readers may not expect.
This adaptation and its interpretation in action neatly weaves song, dance and dialogue to create emotional effects from humour and concern for people’s welfare through to a sense of achievement in a satisfying conclusion. This gives children in the audience a genuine theatre experience which kept even two-year-olds watching, while from an adult point of view may be even better than the novel. What could be read as a sentimental story has been directed by Somes so that songs are both cheerful and reflective, allowing the story to be told simply and clearly.
The cast of 16 was remarkable for working so well as an ensemble, while each is an individual character worth watching in their own right. Experienced actors like Lainie Hart – wonderful as Mrs Sowerby – gave leadership to younger performers such as Samantha Wood, playing the lead role of Mary Lennox. The warmth of their camaraderie flowed off the stage into the audience, so even the very young could believe in the turnaround in the feelings of self-worth for Colin (Jack Taylor) and his father Archibald Craven (Andy McLeod).
My only criticism would be that the overly cheerful reprise of the happy family song as the curtain call, though thematically justifiable, was a rather too sudden change in mood from the quiet recognition of the new emotional security established in the final scene. I would have liked the audience to have had the opportunity to thank the performers with applause at that moment, with perhaps just the magical memories song to conclude.
But one small quibble should not distract readers from taking their children to a highly successful production of The Secret Garden.
©Frank McKone, Canberra
Tuesday 15 January 2008
2008: Robin Hood by Jennifer Maclean and Justin Watson
Robin Hood by Jennifer Maclean and Justin Watson. Ickle Pickle Productions at Belconnen Theatre, January 15, 18, 25 at 11am and 7pm; January 16, 17, 22, 23, 24 at 11am and 2.30pm; January 19, 26 at 2.30pm. Bookings: 6247 1223.
Theatre should be judged in its context. Ickle Pickle is essentially a community theatre. Robin Hood is as much about teaching and giving stage experience to young performers, in this case from age 9, as it is about entertaining young and old in the audience.
The choreography is mostly routine but by using popular songs (often with drastically re-written lyrics) and keeping the timing upbeat and precise, Hannah McFadden and musical director Adam Bluhm kept our interest in the musical numbers at the opening performance.
The script has a number of good ideas like Robin Hood gaining a pardon by turning from theft to running a legitimate charity for the poor, but the exposition early in Act 1 was a bit dull, especially for young ones in the audience. The traditional theme of the contest between The Sheriff and Robin for the hand of Maid Marion is played out with several interesting twists, but I wondered what happened to the notion of charity. Robin wins, of course, but seems to settle for a life of handouts from his upper class wife. Maybe Marion’s father, the King in this version, should only agree if she becomes a commoner and helps run the charity.
After interval, Act 2 brightens up when we meet Friar Tuck’s half-brother, the Muslim ruler of an unnamed “Middle East” country. On the entertainment side, Dave Smith does a wonderful marriage ceremony singing Love Me Tender as Friar Tuck, and runs a mean casbah as Sheik Yabooty. His character also raised the satiric standard which should be waved in all good pantomimes, and could offend some in his references to The Prophet among bare midriffs and, on the other hand, as Friar Tuck again, to his double standards “after all, I do work for the Church.” Mind you, it was Robin, cross-dressed in harem gear, who questioned Tuck’s standards.
With more laughs for small people in Act 1, like the yucky food competition at the end, and knowing that the pace of the show will improve as the young players gain experience, Robin Hood will entertain while achieving Ickle Pickle’s community theatre aims.
©Frank McKone, Canberra
Theatre should be judged in its context. Ickle Pickle is essentially a community theatre. Robin Hood is as much about teaching and giving stage experience to young performers, in this case from age 9, as it is about entertaining young and old in the audience.
The choreography is mostly routine but by using popular songs (often with drastically re-written lyrics) and keeping the timing upbeat and precise, Hannah McFadden and musical director Adam Bluhm kept our interest in the musical numbers at the opening performance.
The script has a number of good ideas like Robin Hood gaining a pardon by turning from theft to running a legitimate charity for the poor, but the exposition early in Act 1 was a bit dull, especially for young ones in the audience. The traditional theme of the contest between The Sheriff and Robin for the hand of Maid Marion is played out with several interesting twists, but I wondered what happened to the notion of charity. Robin wins, of course, but seems to settle for a life of handouts from his upper class wife. Maybe Marion’s father, the King in this version, should only agree if she becomes a commoner and helps run the charity.
After interval, Act 2 brightens up when we meet Friar Tuck’s half-brother, the Muslim ruler of an unnamed “Middle East” country. On the entertainment side, Dave Smith does a wonderful marriage ceremony singing Love Me Tender as Friar Tuck, and runs a mean casbah as Sheik Yabooty. His character also raised the satiric standard which should be waved in all good pantomimes, and could offend some in his references to The Prophet among bare midriffs and, on the other hand, as Friar Tuck again, to his double standards “after all, I do work for the Church.” Mind you, it was Robin, cross-dressed in harem gear, who questioned Tuck’s standards.
With more laughs for small people in Act 1, like the yucky food competition at the end, and knowing that the pace of the show will improve as the young players gain experience, Robin Hood will entertain while achieving Ickle Pickle’s community theatre aims.
©Frank McKone, Canberra
Friday 11 January 2008
2008: Ngapartji Ngapartji, by Scott Rankin and Trevor Jamieson
Ngapartji Ngapartji, written by Scott Rankin and co-creator Trevor Jamieson. Director, Scott Rankin for Big hART. Musical director, Damian Mason. Sydney Festival and Company B at Belvoir Street Theatre on Tuesdays 6.30pm, Wednesdays – Saturdays 8pm, Sundays 5pm, January 11 to February 10. Bookings: Company B 02 9699 3444 or www.sydneyfestival.org.au
“A very, very powerful, graceful, moving work” is how Federal Minister for the Arts, Peter Garrett, described to me this family history of Spinifex man Trevor Jamieson. I and the rest of the audience on opening night could not have agreed more. A standing ovation said everything about the quality of the performance and the tears said “Sorry” as it should have been said many years ago. The Pitjantjatjara people deserve a great deal more than an apology for the devastation Australian governments have caused.
The title means “I give you something, you give me something”. The Jamieson story shows that Aboriginal people have been giving time and time again, since the first British horsemen arrived in their country, with no by-your-leave. Next were Afghans and camels, the effects of two world wars, and worst of all the explosion of 9 major nuclear bombs and many smaller bomb trials from 1953 to 1965 which killed and irradiated very many Pitjantjatjara and other central Australian people. Jamieson’s parents were orphans, literally refugees from their own country.
But still they keep giving, through the Big hART program which you can participate in at www.ninti.ngapartji.org and in the resilience they demonstrate to all of us in this production. Whatever traumas we or our forebears have faced and survived, these people have faced at least as much and still perform with strength and hope.
Their narrative is told in song, dance and storytelling in a form that reminded me of ancient Greek theatre. The senior women who lead the audience in song and action, who sing such strong harmony, and bring calm and acceptance in times of trouble, are a baseline of security in the play, just as they are in real life. They, especially, make us feel respect for country and culture. With new Ministers in a new Government, let us hope that this “powerful, graceful, moving work” helps to persuade people with the power to have the grace to move Australia to give in return in full measure.
Being at Ngapartji Ngapartji is an experience which you should not miss.
©Frank McKone, Canberra
“A very, very powerful, graceful, moving work” is how Federal Minister for the Arts, Peter Garrett, described to me this family history of Spinifex man Trevor Jamieson. I and the rest of the audience on opening night could not have agreed more. A standing ovation said everything about the quality of the performance and the tears said “Sorry” as it should have been said many years ago. The Pitjantjatjara people deserve a great deal more than an apology for the devastation Australian governments have caused.
The title means “I give you something, you give me something”. The Jamieson story shows that Aboriginal people have been giving time and time again, since the first British horsemen arrived in their country, with no by-your-leave. Next were Afghans and camels, the effects of two world wars, and worst of all the explosion of 9 major nuclear bombs and many smaller bomb trials from 1953 to 1965 which killed and irradiated very many Pitjantjatjara and other central Australian people. Jamieson’s parents were orphans, literally refugees from their own country.
But still they keep giving, through the Big hART program which you can participate in at www.ninti.ngapartji.org and in the resilience they demonstrate to all of us in this production. Whatever traumas we or our forebears have faced and survived, these people have faced at least as much and still perform with strength and hope.
Their narrative is told in song, dance and storytelling in a form that reminded me of ancient Greek theatre. The senior women who lead the audience in song and action, who sing such strong harmony, and bring calm and acceptance in times of trouble, are a baseline of security in the play, just as they are in real life. They, especially, make us feel respect for country and culture. With new Ministers in a new Government, let us hope that this “powerful, graceful, moving work” helps to persuade people with the power to have the grace to move Australia to give in return in full measure.
Being at Ngapartji Ngapartji is an experience which you should not miss.
©Frank McKone, Canberra
Thursday 10 January 2008
2008: Au Revoir Parapluie by James Thierree
Au Revoir Parapluie by James Thierree. Contemporary circus in the Sydney Festival at Sydney Theatre, Walsh Bay. Tuesday to Sunday 8pm until January 27. Sydney Theatre 02 9250 1999, Festival Ticketek 1300 888 412 or www.sydneyfestival.org
Thierree has brought both more and less to this year’s Sydney Festival, in his third presentation following The Junebug Symphony (2003) and Bright Abyss (2006). Last Thursday, the energy and drive of all the performers – Thierree, Kaori Ito, Satchie Noro, Magnus Jakobsson and Maria Sendow – was perhaps greater, while the theme is simpler. The result was better entertainment than Junebug, but less seriousness of meaning than Bright Abyss.
Acrobatic rope work, gymnastic dance and clowning in mime, form the focus of attention in Au Revoir Parapluie, with a great deal more direct communication with the audience and much more humour than previously. This a major strength of the show which kept the audience thoroughly engaged for the full 90 minutes. It is a joyful celebration which had us enthusiastically clapping in time to a fast beat for three curtain calls.
Rather than the imagery, which is Thierree’s forte, being linked into a tight narrative, the whimsical umbrella (to which in Aussie parlance we might say “See ya!”) is a briefly spun symbol of enjoyment of life’s activities, among many which invoke industry and agriculture, family ups and downs, and the arrival seemingly out of nowhere of the unexpected. Disruptions ,even eruptions, become challenges as much as frustrations. If there is a theme, it’s something like Life goes on despite everything, and what happens is funny at least as often as not.
Although the images were of the past rather than the post-industrial world, and might be seen as a bit old-fashioned, I enjoyed a stage show in which only the sound track was electronic (and very effective), while the action, both of the performers and the mechanical apparatus of the set, was big and physically impressive. The show seemed much larger than a mere five performers could create, and the audience responded in kind.
Thierree, a grandson of Charlie Chaplin, has done his family tradition proud.
© Frank McKone, Canberra
Thierree has brought both more and less to this year’s Sydney Festival, in his third presentation following The Junebug Symphony (2003) and Bright Abyss (2006). Last Thursday, the energy and drive of all the performers – Thierree, Kaori Ito, Satchie Noro, Magnus Jakobsson and Maria Sendow – was perhaps greater, while the theme is simpler. The result was better entertainment than Junebug, but less seriousness of meaning than Bright Abyss.
Acrobatic rope work, gymnastic dance and clowning in mime, form the focus of attention in Au Revoir Parapluie, with a great deal more direct communication with the audience and much more humour than previously. This a major strength of the show which kept the audience thoroughly engaged for the full 90 minutes. It is a joyful celebration which had us enthusiastically clapping in time to a fast beat for three curtain calls.
Rather than the imagery, which is Thierree’s forte, being linked into a tight narrative, the whimsical umbrella (to which in Aussie parlance we might say “See ya!”) is a briefly spun symbol of enjoyment of life’s activities, among many which invoke industry and agriculture, family ups and downs, and the arrival seemingly out of nowhere of the unexpected. Disruptions ,even eruptions, become challenges as much as frustrations. If there is a theme, it’s something like Life goes on despite everything, and what happens is funny at least as often as not.
Although the images were of the past rather than the post-industrial world, and might be seen as a bit old-fashioned, I enjoyed a stage show in which only the sound track was electronic (and very effective), while the action, both of the performers and the mechanical apparatus of the set, was big and physically impressive. The show seemed much larger than a mere five performers could create, and the audience responded in kind.
Thierree, a grandson of Charlie Chaplin, has done his family tradition proud.
© Frank McKone, Canberra
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