Thursday, 27 February 2020

2020: Monty Python's Spamalot by Eric Idle & John du Prez



Monty Python’s Spamalot.  Book and lyrics by Eric Idle.  Music by John du Prez & Eric Idle.  One Eyed Man Productions at Canberra Theatre Playhouse, February 26 – March 1, 2020.

Reviewed by Frank McKone
February 27
The Round Table
Director – Richard Carroll; Musical Supervisor – Conrad Hamill; Choreographer – Cameron Mitchell; Designer – Emma Vine; Lighting Designer – Kate Sfetkidis; Rehearsal Vocal Supervisor – Michael Tyack; Production Manager & Sound Designer – Carl McKinnon

Cast (alphabetical order)
Marty Alix, Blake Appelqvist, Cramer Cain, Amy Hack, Rob Johnson, Josie Lane, Abe Mitchell and Jane Watt
Photos: John McRea
We all sing together
I loved two features of this production – especially in comparison with the original big-stage shows.  It’s awfully grotty; and we all became part of the show, right down to Rob Miller, the peasant seated next to her husband (?) in B15 (ie B-ONE-S) – he was too shy to go on stage – who was awarded with all due ceremony for inadvertently discovering the Holy Grail.

And it was a delight to participate in the standing ovation!  And, of course, all singing “Always Look on the Bright Side of Life”.
King Arthur meets
the knights who say 'Ni!'

Richard Carroll is a board member of In The Pipeline (Arts) Ltd, which runs Sydney’s Hayes Theatre Co, and, like this week’s other production connected to the Hayes Theatre Co, H.M.S. Pinafore at The Q, Queanbeyan, it was a joy to be able to laugh at the absurdity of life in the face of our summer, haec aestas horribilis, this year.  I haven’t yet been to the tiny 100 seat Hayes Theatre itself, but Carroll and his designer Emma Vine have made a highly successful transition onto the larger stage and auditorium of Canberra’s Playhouse which bodes well for the rest of their tour this year.

I would like to make special mention of Amy Hack as Patsy.  Not only were her coconut clip-clops exactly in time, but she stopped our inane laughter as Cramer Cain’s completely obtuse King Arthur sang about how he was “Alone”.  Her feelings, being so ignored, created the one genuinely sad, and serious, moment; giving purpose to the whole play.  Dramatically, her performance was my Holy Grail.

The whole cast, many switching between named roles and playing in the often weird apparitions in the ensemble, kept the show moving beautifully.  Marty Alix executed a great exit to the toilet as Sir Robin; Josie Lane complained wonderfully about not having any lines for most of the musical, despite having the female romantic lead as Lady of the Lake; Cramer Cain had, I thought, a much greater atmosphere of absolute authority (completely undermined by reality like our many recent Australian prime ministers) than the famous Tim Curry (who seemed to smile too much) as King Arthur; Jane Watt’s Sir Belvedere was brilliant in something like chain mail; Sir Galahad, by one-time Canberran, Blake Appelqvist, danced amazingly; Rob Johnson was so often something else that Prince Herbert melted into the crowd (was he the condescending Frenchman fooled by the empty wooden rabbit?); while Abe Mitchell as Sir Lancelot played the male romantic ‘grail’ perfectly.

If this is confusing, don’t worry.  You’ll be on a par with the knights who say ‘Ni!’.

Just enjoy!

What happened to my part?


© Frank McKone, Canberra

Tuesday, 25 February 2020

2020: H.M.S. Pinafore by Gilbert & Sullivan

H.M.S. Pinafore.  Music by Arthur Sullivan. Libretto by W.S. Gilbert.  Hayes Theatre Co, presented by Siren Theatre Co, at The Q, Queanbeyan Performing Arts Centre, February 25-29, 2020.

Reviewed by Frank McKone
February 25

Director – Kate Gaul; Musical Director – Zara Stanton; Choreographer – Ash Bee; Production Designer – Melanie Liertz; Lighting Designer – Fausto Brusamolino; Sound Designer – Nate Edmondson

Cast: (alphabetical)
Katherine Allen, Gavin Brown, Thomas Campbell, Jermaine Chau, Tobias Cole, Sean Hall, Billie Palin, Bobbi-Jean Henning, Dominic Lui, Roey O’Keefe, Zachary Selmes, Zara Stanton
Buttercup - one-time wetnurse to Ralph and Capt Corcoran -
sells provisions to the sailors as the play begins.
Capt Corcoran at sixes and sevens at the beginning of Act Two
(the balls represent cannonballs in the original)
If you wonder that a bit of political satire from the UK in 1878 could be seriously funny in 2020, just begin from Captain Corcoran of Her Majesty’s Ship Pinafore pleading wonderfully mournfully with the Moon in Heaven

Fair moon, to thee I sing,
Bright regent of the heavens,
Say, why is everything
Either at sixes or at sevens?


In this summer of turmoil, of drought, fire, flooding rains, coal mining to reduce CO2 emissions, politically motivated sports-rorts grants and now coronavirus, all overseen by our equivalent of Sir Joseph Porter in the guise of Prime Minister Scott Morrison, I felt quite in tune with the Captain’s confusion.  As Sir Joseph sings

Sir Joseph Porter secluded in his cabin.
I am the monarch of the sea,
The ruler of the Queen’s Navee…
But when the breezes blow,
I generally go below,
And seek the seclusion that a cabin[et] grants…


From holiday in Hawaii to ‘cabinet-in-confidence’, our world is in more than sixes and sevens.  A mad-cap production of H.M.S. Pinafore was just what I needed.
Semaphore signalling:
"For he is an Englishman!"



Political correctness has caught me by the balls, so to speak: the non-profit left-wing communal basis of the Hayes Theatre Company has meant that I can find the names of the cast only in alphabetical order, without reference to who plays which parts.  But since, as Sir Joseph, Captain Corcoran and all the crew agree
Dick Deadeye calling for rebellion against the upper classes

A British tar is a soaring soul,
As free as a mountain bird,
His energetic fist should be ready to resist
A dictatorial word…
He never should bow down to a domineering frown,
Or the tang of a tyrant tongue.



So I can’t make pronouncements on the best performers (especially since half the time men are played by women, and the other half vice versa), but I can say the whole conception of this production is in the long tradition of apparently nonsensical satire which began probably long before Aristophanes’ Lysistrata (411 BCE, when the women very sensibly refused to have sex with their men while they still kept fighting The Peloponnesian War, 431–404 BCE), passing through Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream (in an appropriately absurd showing by Lakespeare in Canberra this month), my favourite novel The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman (by Laurence Sterne, in nine volumes 1759 – 1767), on to Monty Python’s Spamalot (to be seen here this week in a One Eyed Man Production), and Shaun Micallef’s weekly Mad As Hell (on the ABC, which at least one member of the Prime Minister – Scott Morrison’s – government wants to close down).
Phew!  I feel better already.  Thank you, Kate Gaul, Zara Stanton, Ash Bee, Nelanie Liertz, Fausto Brusamolino, Nate Edmondson and all the cast and crew of Hayes Theatre Co for bringing me back to my senses.  We all need a good dose of Gilbert & Sullivan every now and then – and this is a good one indeed.



 Ordinary Seaman Ralph Rackstraw declares his love for Josephine, Capt Corcoran's daughter






Sir Joseph, who expected to marry her, is horrified at Josephine and Ralph kissing.
Buttercup explains that she mixed the children up:
Ralph is really upper class, and so becomes Captain and marries Josephine.
Corcoran reverts to ordinary seaman and marries Buttercup.
Sir Joseph retires to his cabin with two young women.

A little further research has revealed the named roles.  In keeping with the company's collaborative nature, I list them here:

Buttercup - Thomas Campbell
Capt Corcoran - Tobias Cole
Sir Joseph Porter - Josef Ber
Josephine- Hannah Greenshields
Violin - Dominic Lui
Ralph Rackstraw - Billie Palin
Music Director - Zara Stanton
Dick Dead Eye - Sean Hall
Ensemble - Bobbie Jean Henning, Elora Ledferm, Gavin Brown, Zachary Selmes

© Frank McKone, Canberra

Friday, 21 February 2020

2020: Hell Ship by Michael Veitch

Hell Ship – The Journey of the Ticonderoga   by Michael Veitch with co-writer Peter Houghton.  The Q, Queanbeyan Performing Arts Centre, February 21-22, 2020.

Presented by Chester Creative
Performer: Michael Veitch
Director: Peter Houghton
Lighting Designer: Tom Willis
Music: Thomas Veitch

Reviewed by Frank McKone
February 21

Hell Ship  is both entertaining and informative.  Researching one’s own family history and presenting something significant, as Michael Veitch has done, adds to our understanding of Australian history.  The story of Michael’s great-great-grandfather turns out to be highly relevant today.

In earlier times, too, there was a tradition of itinerant solo performers travelling the outback which still continues to entertain grey nomads in caravan parks around the country today: storytelling, poetry and bush songs are the usual fare in my experience.  But Hell Ship is a different kettle of fish.  Melbourne based Chester Creative has the touring game highly organised, offering a complete show – actor, set, lighting and sound all included – to venues with the right technical equipment and experienced staff, at a price. 

The two nights at The Q are well worth the money.  Veitch takes on the role of his great-great-grandfather at a point much later in his life than his arrival in Melbourne in 1852 and his marriage to Miss Morrison, the young woman who had helped him so well to cope with the ever-increasing deaths, from typhus, on board the Ticonderoga.  He is now alone, after her recent death, and needs to tell his story – to a young sick boy whose fever can now be treated with better knowledge and new medicines like Aspirin.

As the old ship’s surgeon recalls boarding the Ticonderoga in England and events through the 100 days of sail it took to reach Melbourne, he takes on the voices and characteristics of the people involved, from the government official organising the emigration, through the people with many accents from Scotland, Ireland and England whose poverty drives them to seek a new life far away, to Captain Boyle – an ethical, thoroughly authorative figure, respected by all – and to the pilot in Port Phillip Bay who has to order the ship to disembark at an isolated beach for a long quarantine period, during which many more people died.  A quarter of the ship’s 800 passengers and crew did not survive.

We never see the young boy, hidden in his iron-frame hospital bed, but we are as alternately excited and horrified as he, and as relieved as his fever cools, and James William Henry Veitch can safely leave him to his parents’ care.

And, though of course this could not have been in Michael Veitch’s mind when he first toured this show around Victoria in 2018, I could not help thinking of the cruise ship held in quarantine in Japan and the dreadful news of the spread of the new coronavirus around the world.  The past is not such a different country, after all.

In character as Ship's Surgeon
James William Henry Veitch

Michael Veitch

© Frank McKone, Canberra






Thursday, 20 February 2020

2020: Crunch Time by David Williamson

John Wood and Guy Edmonds

Crunch Time by David Williamson. Ensemble Theatre, Sydney, February 19 – April 9, 2020.

Reviewed by Frank McKone
February 19

Director – Mark Kilmurry; Set and Costume Designer – Lauren Peters; Lighting Designer – Nicholas Higgins; Sound Realiser – Anthony Lorenz

Cast (alphabetical)
Diane Craig (Helen); Megan Drury (Susy); Guy Edmonds (Luke); Matt Minto (Jimmy); Emma Palmer (Lauren); John Wood (Steve)

Photos by Prudence Upton

Diane Craig and John Woods
as Helen and Steve
in Crunch Time by David Williamson
Ensemble Theatre 2020

Crunch Time is a quite harsh-sounding title for a realistic study of generational succession told with some tenderness and humour.  Perhaps, since the author has announced that, after 50 years, this is definitely to be his last play, he may be sensing a Sword of Damocles descending. 

That’s certainly the feeling David Williamson has given Steve, as he retires, when he has to decide which son – the younger Jimmy with a Business Management degree; or the elder Luke with a combined Engineering/Law degree – will be given control of his highly successful engineering company.  The complex intra-family relationships are played out very well indeed by John Wood, Matt Minto and Guy Edmonds – the  father, himself trained as an engineer and somewhere on ‘the spectrum’, knowing that Jimmy’s social communication skills are essential for the continuing and expanding success of the company, cuts the highly intelligent but also autistic Luke off the Board.

Steve married Helen because he was fascinated by her playing the cello – the Goldmark Variations – when they were students.  Diana Craig’s playing on stage at the key moment of tenderness is a highlight. But, she points out, the Goldmark is the only piece of music – and indeed the only work of art of any kind – that Steve can recognise.

Diane Craig and Megan Drury
as Helen and Susy

Megan Drury playing Jimmy’s wife Susy (they have three children) gives us the most rational clear-sighted character in the play, recognising how she was so attracted to Jimmy – and why so many other women were and still are; and how she can become a genuine friend for Luke while they supervise their combined grandchildren.  Though Jimmy says he will “never do it again”, we laugh with Susy and recognise her right to independence.

Megan Drury and Matt Minto
as Susy and Jimmy
Susy also explains to Luke how being ‘ordinary’ is the right thing for him, even though Emma Palmer as Luke’s wife, Lauren, can’t stand his insistence on being himself, which means stating with great accuracy every truth, about her and everything else, any more.  So she leaves the children to him to find a less ‘ordinary’ life.

Emma Palmer and Guy Edmonds
as Lauren and Luke


Guy Edmonds and Megan Drury
as Luke and Susy

Of course, rumours will abound that David Williamson has finally written an autobiographical play, since he originally trained and even lectured as an engineer, and finally married a writer (they met in 1971) who is quoted on the ABC in 2009: “And Kristin says their blended family - two of her children with her ex-husband, two from David's first marriage and one mutual child ('They call him the love child') - cringe at their bohemian tales.”
[ https://www.abc.net.au/news/2009-04-03/wifes-biography-turns-tables-on-david-williamson/1639908  ]

It is true that this play’s family relationships feel to me more personal in nature, but then I have reviewed formally only about a dozen of his more than fifty plays.  It is the character of Steve, facing up to serious adversity, that brings up those feelings.  John Wood’s performance is so much deeper than being a character who represents a man of a particular place and time.  Whereas in the past I have seen Williamson’s work as highly valuable “comedy of manners” social commentary, this play – not only in Steve, but especially in Guy Edmond’s Luke and Megan Drury’s Suzy – shows psychological understanding of a different order, I think.

Of the playwriting and production, I suspect there is more development work to do.  It may be Williamson’s last play, but perhaps he may not retire absolutely yet.  The performance by Diane Craig of Steve’s wife Helen needed to create much more empathy in us, watching.  The clue, for me, was in the question on how Steve had rated Jimmy at 10, but Luke at only 8.5; while Luke had rated his father at only 2, but his mother at 10.

As a fly-on-the-wall audience member, I wanted to rate Helen at 10 but she came through to me at about 6.  Yet at the every end, she completely unexpectedly reveals her ‘bad girl’ behaviour before meeting Steve – her bohemian tale, I guess.  It’s either in the writing, or maybe in the directing, but Diane Craig’s performance needed to establish that aspect of Helen’s character – the liveliness and warmth it implies – from early in the play.

I also think that, in the directing, and perhaps because of the writing, the first several scenes lost focus and energy because they come through as not much more than exposition.  They tell us bits of the story, but it’s not until maybe 20 minutes in that our attention begins to become focussed, and therefore engaged, in the feelings of the characters as they interact.  Then we begin to work out for ourselves what is now and has been going on between these people.  The backstory needs to grow out of the immediate present, from the very first scene.

It was, of course, a great privilege to be present on the opening night of the last play of what I can only call (awfully) an ‘iconic’ Australian playwright.  I deliberately have not given away too much here, because it’s important for me not to preempt your expectations.  There’s a depth of humanity in this play which should catch you by surprise.

I think, finally, it’s not unreasonable to point out the role of the Ensemble Theatre’s relationship with David Williamson, and especially his relationship with Sandra Bates, who first attended the classes of the Ensemble’s founder, Hayes Gordon, in 1968, and was invited by him to become artistic director of the company in 1986. 

Since 1995 Ensemble Theatre has staged “24 Williamson plays…including 19 world premieres, and produced three national tours.”  Sandra Bates herself directed 15 of these in the boatshed in-the-round, beginning with Emerald City, as well as additionally directing the three plays, Face to Face, A Conversation and Charitable Intent in the Jack Manning Trilogy at The Concourse, in Chatswood in 2014, before handing over the artistic directorship to Mark Kilmurry in 2016.

David Williamson has written on her retirement: "The Ensemble Theatre and I have had a very fruitful relationship now for many years.  I love this little theatre and I love the philosophy that guides it and that philosophy has been driven for over thirty years now by one remarkable woman, Sandra Bates. 

“Her philosophy of theatre is disarmingly simple.  Program contemporary plays from Australia, America and elsewhere that have something to say to contemporary society.  Program plays that tell a strong story that impacts on the audience rather than plays consumed by their own cleverness that few relate to or understand.  Plays of emotional impact that tell stories about real people facing real and pressing problems.

“The Ensemble is a theatre in which storytelling about contemporary society comes first and that's what I love about it.”

Indeed.


[see http://www.stagewhispers.com.au/news/sandra-bates-retire-ensemble ]






Emma Palmer as Lauren

© Frank McKone, Canberra

Monday, 17 February 2020

2020: Jesus Wants Me for a Sunbeam by Peter Goldsworthy


Jesus Wants Me for a Sunbeam, adapted by Steve Rodgers from the novella by Peter Goldsworthy.  A Riverside National Theatre of Parramatta production presented by Belvoir, at Belvoir Street Upstairs, February 6 – March 8, 2020.

Reviewed by Frank McKone
February 16

Director – Darren Yap; Set and Costume Designer – Emma Vine; Lighting and AV Designer – Verity Hampson; Composer and Sound Designer – Max Lambert and Sean Peter.

Cast (alphabetical)
Valerie Bader (Grandma / Dr Eve), Emma Jackson (Linda), Mark Lee (Grandpa / Priest), Liam Nunan (Ben), Grace Truman (Wol), Matthew Whittet (Rick)

__________________________________________________________

Though I am used to being emotionally stirred by theatre, this presentation of a controversial story as a live performance disturbs me. 

When reading a fiction, I can set myself at arm’s length, pause to consider the author’s intention, and decide whether or not to read any further.  In the theatre, as the father’s intention to kill himself and his 12-year-old daughter at some point of his choosing when it seemed that her leukaemia could not be stopped from killing her, I could not stop being taken beyond an unacceptable conclusion.

Though some people may simply consider this to be a ‘sad’ story of a father willing to sacrifice himself in the name of ‘love’ for his daughter – by keeping her company right through until the end – this motivation (in a fictional character, remember) is warped in the extreme.  This father justifies committing suicide, and murder.

Perhaps Peter Goldsworthy’s intention was to open up the reader’s thinking about this family’s twisted faith, apparently acceptable to the fictional priest.  Perhaps it was meant to be enlightening about the nature of a God who can kill a child.  Perhaps voluntary euthanasia was the issue in Goldsworthy’s mind – except that Wol (fictional again, don’t forget) was too young to be legally responsible, and Rick was certainly not terminally ill – nor of sound mind.

Perhaps, as I thought the title of the work meant, the novella and the play would be taking a severely critical view of religious belief which, for example, can lead Catholic priests to refuse to report confessions of child abuse, and protect their confreres from criminal charges.  That God is certainly not Love – and Rick’s ‘love’ makes him think that he is God.

The adaptation for the stage, unfortunately, is not clear in its intention.  The style is essentially naturalistic, except for an occasional speech from the father which seems to be aimed directly at the audience.  If the whole play had been presented in this out-to-us form then perhaps I could have stood mentally back enough to see the story as simply being about issues.  But the apparent realism of the interactions between characters, particularly between Linda and her mother and the treating doctor, and the understandable sullenness in Ben’s responses, made the play awful to watch.  So then the ending, when his mother reminds Ben, now four years older, of how his father carried out injecting his daughter and himself, as if this was a normal – in fact loving – thing to do, was just sickening.

I didn’t feel sad.  If anything, it made me feel angry that Rick had left his wife and son with no support after the unavoidable death of her young daughter and his younger sister. 

So, on reflection, I think if Goldsworthy intended to make Rick a heroic loving father, then that was a serious error of judgement on Goldsworthy’s part.  Reviews (at, for example,  https://www.goodreads.com/en/book/show/615999.Jesus_Wants_Me_For_a_Sunbeam )
range from “This may be the worst book I have had the misfortune to encounter. One of the most utterly hideous, contrived and disingenuous novels I have ever read.” to “I nearly shed a tear at the end of this novella, not because I was sad that the father and daughter were dying, but that the father was spinning the biggest lie - that they would be together in death.” [because] “A rejection of God and Jesus would result in them not being together and his ultimate suicide was really for nothing.”

One said simply, “A very good read. I read it at one sitting.”

Be warned, then, that you will see a well-designed and very well performed show; but be prepared for what you might shed a tear for.

Set design by Emma Vine
Jesus Wants Me for a Sunbeamby Peter Goldsworthy
Riverside National Theatre of Parramatta
presented at Belvoir 2020
Photo: M McKone


© Frank McKone, Canberra

2020: No Pay? No Way! by Dario Fo (and Franca Rame)

No Pay? No Way! by Dario Fo, adapted by Marieke Hardy.  Sydney Theatre Company at Sydney Opera House Drama Theatre, February 10 – March 20, 2020 (and at Riverside Parramatta April 1-4, 2020).

Reviewed by Frank McKone
February 15

Director – Sarah Giles; Designer – Charles Davis; Lighting Designer – Paul Jackson; Composer and Sound Designer – Steve Francis

Assistant Director – Madeleine Humphreys; Fight and Movement Director – Tim Dashwood; Voice and Text Coach – Charmian Gradwell; Literal Translator – Thomas McPherson

Cast (alphabetical order):
Giovanni – Glen Hazeldine; Luigi – Rahel Romahn; Antonia – Helen Thomson; Sergeant/Inspector/Undertaker/Old Man – Aaron Tsindos; Margherita – Catherine Văn-Davies
 
Photos by Prudence Upton

_____________________________________________________________

Helen Thomson (Antonia) and Glenn Hazeldine (Giovanni)
in No Pay? No Way!
Sydney Theatre Company 2020
Behind the uproaringly side-splitting laughter in Marieke Hardy’s adaptation of this Italian 1970s political farce (almost certainly by Dario Fo and Franca Rame, dubbed “the person behind the political”) is a highly intelligent design and directing concept.  Sarah Giles and Charles Davis parallel the collapse of the capitalist economic system by making the stage set of a neat, just adequate but seemingly substantial housing unit, break into scattered pieces around the characters, who struggle along until the point is reached where there is nothing left to do except sing a sad song of hope.

Though Hardy writes “if all else fails, let’s just be together for a spell and hold hands and laugh at how messed up it all is”, Sarah Giles’ ending is less hopeful.  Her characters sing quietly and beautifully, but distinctly apart from each other among different bits of their shattered environment.  They have made us laugh with references to our very own daily political farce, then sing us into a blackout which is a grateful pause in the madness.  We applaud in a moment about which we can only think, this is “Sad but True!”

I suspect, from the Youtube examples I can find, that Giles and her designer Charles Davis have taken us a step further into the absurd than Fo and Rame envisaged.  Other productions seem to finish on a note of defiance, still in the neat home setting, for which audiences cheer as the last line is spoken.  We went quiet in the darkness before the absolutely justified burst of applause as the lights came up for the curtain call.

Farce, of course, relies on surprise, so there is no way – with or without pay – that I can describe what happens in this production.  You simply must go along to the prestigious Sydney Opera House to laugh at pretension and laugh at the collapse of the ordinary good order of life.  Just watch out for the caesarian breaking of the waters, the brine and the olives.

Say no more – though you may understand a few more jokes if you know Italian.

It is a terrific production – an adaptation that Fo and Rame would surely be proud of, however horrified they might be to know that we still need to face up to the same, perhaps even worse farcical state in Australia and the world today.  I remember George W. Bush ringing in the new century 20 years ago with the cry “A New World Order!”

Ha! Ha!  No Way!


Rahel Romahn (Luigi)

Catherine Văn-Davies (Margherita)

Aaron Tsindos (as Sergeant)


© Frank McKone, Canberra

Sunday, 16 February 2020

2020: The Deep Blue Sea by Terence Rattigan

Marta Dusseldorp
in rehearsal for
The Deep Blue Sea by Terence Rattigan
Sydney Theatre Company
Photo: Brett Boardman
The Deep Blue Sea by Terence Rattigan.  Sydney Theatre Company at Roslyn Packer Theatre, February 4 – March 7, 2020.

Reviewed by Frank McKone
February 15

Director – Paige Rattray; Designer – David Fleischer; Lighting Designer – Nick Schlieper; Composer and Sound Designer – James Brown.
Assistant Director – Kenneth Moraleda; Fight and Movement Director – Nigel Poulton; Voice and Text Coach – Charmian Gradwell.

Cast:
Hester Collyer – Marta Dusseldorp; Freddie Page - Fayssal Bazzi; William Collyer – Matt Day
Mr Miller – Paul Capsis; Mrs Elton – Vanessa Downing
Philip Welch – Brandon McClelland; Ann Welch – Contessa Treffone; Jackie Jackson – Charlie Garber
______________________________________________________________

The play begins with a beautiful scene.  A blue ocean extends beyond our horizon as if it stretches on forever.The sky is a clear uninterrupted pale blue.

In the ocean is a tiny island, dark against the light.  A point of focus in this Deep Blue Sea.  This is Hester.  She is her tiny island – her dark world.

By the end of the play we understand, as Mr (one-time Dr) Miller tells Hester, “… the world is a dark enough place for even a little flicker to be welcome.”


Marta Dusseldorp and Paul Capsis
as Hester Collyer and Mr Miller
in The Deep Blue Sea by Terence Rattigan
Production Photos: Daniel Boud
Why is clearly-gay Miller no longer entitled to be ‘Dr’?  Because in 1950s Britain, homosexuality was a crime, punishable by jail.

Suicide was also a crime, though quite what the Christian belief behind the law imagined would be the punishment is a moot question.  Of course, to attempt suicide….

What if, though, you were a woman, daughter of a local vicar, marrying ‘above’ your station into the expectations of the ‘greater public school’ men – wealthy, elite?

And that’s before the play now begins, after ten months in love with a dashing RAF wartime fighter pilot – a famous but by now insecure past-his-prime test pilot.  Where did Lady Hester Collyer meet Freddie?  At the elite golf club, Sunningdale, of course.

Matt Day and Marta Dusseldorp
as Sir William Collyer and Lady Hester
Marta Dusseldorp and Fayssal Bazzi
as Hester and Freddie

Does this sound like your cup-of-tea, in modern Australia?  You’ll be surprised.  Just as director Paige Rattray describes:  “When I went to see the 2015 production at the National Theatre in London, I was aware of Rattigan’s reputation as an observer of the British middle-class, a society playwright, but was not prepared to meet one of the most complex, nuanced and thoroughly human female characters in the history of Western theatre.”


Scene changing by actors in character - the 'fourth wall' is broken
L-R: Contessa Treffone, Vanessa Downing, Brandon McClelland, Marta Dusseldorp and stage crew
as
Ann Welch (neighbour), Mrs Elton (landlady), Philip Welch (neighbour), Hester Collyer 
To then find Marta Dusseldorp to play this role was an inspired choice.  In this clever, also surprising set design, what would have been in the 1950s a conventional English sitting-room ‘fourth-wall’ scene turns into an exciting modern play reflecting on the past attitudes to mental health, sexual identity – and thus the position of women as independent people in control of their lives – attitudes still boiling away beneath our attempts today to change that dark world into a kinder place.

It worries me that the image in Rattigan’s play of the ‘deep blue sea’, which is attractive and offers the possibility of hope, is nowadays seen as ‘the black dog’, seemingly a vicious threat to escape from.  But Marta’s characterisation of Rattigan’s Lady Hester Collyer catches us out.  She achieves wonderfully the intention that director Paige has for this production:

In moving Hester through her despair, through her reliance on other people to a place where she can exist for and with herself”…we have a “model for a new way to look at life, and a new way to survive it.”

If you had thought, as I had, that Terence Rattigan had less to offer than, say, Arthur Miller, Tennessee Williams or others of his era,  Sydney Theatre Company proves us to be mistaken. 

Not to be missed.



© Frank McKone, Canberra

Friday, 7 February 2020

2020: Platform Paper No.62






Performing Arts Markets and their Conundrums by Justin Macdonnell.  Platform Papers No. 62, February 2020.  Quarterly essays on the performing arts from Currency House.

Reviewed by Frank McKone

APAM or APAX? That is the question.  What are Performing Arts Markets for?  Are Performing Arts Exchanges better?

Justin Macdonnell is more than well-qualified to ask the questions: he has “been employed in arts management, producing and consultancy for over forty years.  His early career was occupied variously as General Manager of the State Opera of Australia, Director of the National Opera of New Zealand, Program Director of the Festival of Sydney, Executive Director of the Confederation of Australian Professional Performing Arts and Artistic Director of the Center for the Performing Arts in Miami, USA.  As principal of Macdonnell Promotions he was for twenty years one of Australia’s leading arts management consultants to both the public and private sectors and to scores of arts organisations here and abroad.”

In a lengthy but fascinating history of arts markets on every continent, he even wonders about an unexpected “elephant in the room: the entire face-to-face market model is based on continued extensive international air travel, not only to assemble delegates at one or more market-like events in Australia—a great distance by anyone’s standards—but to continue to support international touring itself.  Despite Qantas’s optimistic claims of being carbon neutral by 2050, there is already a known, marked reluctance among those concerned at the threat of climate change to use such transport.”

We Canberrans didn’t need to fly anywhere when the first Australian Performing Arts Market seemed, to me at least, to appear quite out of the blue in the midst of the 1994 National Festival of Australian Theatre, directed by the doyenne of Kurt Weill singing, Robyn Archer AO.  APAM was set up by the Australia Council for the Arts, a statutory authority, nowadays simply known as The Australia Council, which is the Australian Government's principal arts funding and advisory body. The Council is the national advocate for the arts and its purpose is to “champion and invest in” Australian arts.

Macdonnell sees the what-for? question having two answers, which have had different degrees of emphasis in the parallel arts markets which have been established around the world.  He writes, “in order to have an effective trade fair one must have buyers and sellers. It is arguable that in APAM, while there have been a number of buyers, there has never really been selling. The work has been displayed but not sold.”

Then he goes on to say, “most observers today would acknowledge that these events have a networking and relationshipbuilding purpose alongside their buying and selling
role. While there is concern with the narrowness of what ‘market’ might mean, many feel that it has been useful to add new dimensions to the program in order to facilitate what might be called ‘curated conversations’.”

On one occasion, at a US market, “Australian colleagues and I once did a roaring trade there with mass-produced clip-on koalas.”  But then he contrasts this approach, saying “But in the end success is achieved mostly after long-standing connection between artist manager/producer and presenter.”

Macdonnell’s descriptions of the experiences of attending the many dozens of arts markets, as potential buyers, hopeful sellers and professional management and artistic networkers are not only interesting in their own light, but raise for us as critics a fuller understanding of the milieu – the world-wide culture of theatre – out of which the individual performances we see emerge.

A particularly fascinating case, seen here at the Queanbeyan Performing Arts Centre (The Q), was the dance work by Queensland’s Expressions Dance Company combined with BeijingDance/LDTX in two parts, Auto Cannibal by Stephanie Lake and Encircling Voyage by MA Bo under the overall title Matrix.  This international cooperative venture received five strongly positive reviews on this blog alone (November 2019), demonstrating the value of the very networking and relationship building that Macdonnell emphasises – while also showing how the arts market provides the opportunity for the director of a small regional performing arts centre to buy in, to great acclaim, new cutting-edge work to expand a local audience’s appreciation of the arts.

In the past few years, the government-initiated and managed APAM now faces the establishment of Australian Performing Arts Connections as “the national peak body representing performing arts presenters and creators in Australia”.  While APAM moves towards conducting a number of markets in the year, each in a different city with a focus (for example on Indigenous work in Darwin), 2020 sees the APAC annual conference combine with Performing Arts Exchange to become an annual APAX. 

Perhaps, implies Macdonnell, APAM will become too spread out and diffuse; less effective for developing artistic relationships; less effective for selling to international buyers.  Perhaps, he writes, APAX—the Australian Performing Arts Exchange—stating that: “98 per cent of people coming to PAX and the conferences this year [2019] said that ‘Market and audience development are a critical part of the performing arts sector’ may in time challenge APAM for its place as the major performing arts gathering for the nation and New Zealand.”

So he concludes (with some reference to the role nowadays of social media and internet communication) “Regular opportunities for meeting and talking and learning are a central factor in maintaining such relationships—call them friendships if you will—and to the extent that such meeting and talking can be structured, goodwill and trust is gained and grown over time and when all is said and done, no amount of technology or wizardry of other kinds has yet found a better way.”


Media Contact: Martin Portus mportus2@tpg.com.au

Currency House:
https://www.currency.com.au/books/platform-papers/platform-papers-62-performing-arts-markets-and-their-conundrums/ 


© Frank McKone, Canberra