Monday 29 January 2024

2024: Shakespeare - The Man who Pays the Rent by Judi Dench with Brendan O'Hea

 


 

ShakespeareThe Man who Pays the Rent by Judi Dench with Brendan O’Hea.  Penguin Michael Joseph, 2023 (imprint of Penguin Random House).

Illustrations by Judi Dench

Reviewed by Frank McKone

Brendan O’Hea begins his Introduction:

This was never meant to be a book.  My plan was to record Judi Dench talking about all the Shakespeare parts she has played and, with her blessing, to offer it to the archive department at Shakespeare’s Globe.  But when a friend of her grandson overheard one of our many discussions at her home in Surrey, and was intrigued to know what all the laughter, passion and arguing was about, it made me wonder if these interviews might have a wider appeal.


They certainly appeal to me in my role as theatre reviewer, one-time amateur actor/director and paid drama teacher.  That’s wide enough, I think, to pass on my enthusiasm to theatre practitioners and theatre-goers of all kinds.  Not just because Judi Dench is justifiably famous for being such a good actor, but because these interviews are funny and passionate – and especially explain acting in personal and practical ways.

Acting in Shakespeare’s plays may have paid Judi Dench’s rent, but we also come to see how the writing, directing and acting of his plays not only paid William’s rent (actually making him quite rich) but gave us a body of theatrical work that continues to be known worldwide for its universal understanding of human relationships – as relevant today as four hundred years ago.

Like me (born in December 1934, she’s barely 6 years older than me), Judi does “worry nowadays about actors being miked as I think it flattens everything out … and also there’s a danger that you hold back because you’re being artificially boosted – it can make you lazy.  Audiences need to see your mouth moving and your body breathing; if they can only hear your voice coming from a speaker twenty feet away, and there’s more than one person on stage, then who they hell do they look at?  How do they know who’s talking?

Hear, hear, I say, as I have to switch my phone back on during a show to readjust my hearing aids.  When I tried the ‘hearing loop’ system, voices came through clearly, but in two dimensions instead of three.  And I couldn’t hear the audience responses.  Getting this old doesn’t make life easy!

And I can’t get away with being a pontificating critic.  Brendan asks Jude, What is your view on critics?

Some I like, some I don’t, and some are friends.  But ultimately, it’s just one person’s opinion.  Caryl Brahms never liked anything I did.  She was vitriolic, and clearly allergic to me.  She’d always refer to me in her reviews as ‘Dench, J’, as if I was in the school play, or ‘little Miss Dench’.  She said I played Juliet ‘like an apple in a Warwickshire orchard’, whatever the hell that means – and that Rosalind Iden was much better in the part.  (Criticism I can deal with, but I loathe comparison.)

That was the 1960 Old Vic production “when the Artistic Director, Michael Benthall, offered me the part of Juliet.  Franco Zeffirelli was to be the director….  He had never directed a Shakespeare play before.  Franco didn’t reckon the poetry of it – he had no interest in the verse, or the rhythm, or the line endings, he worked purely on instinct.  But what he did bring to the production was a Mediterranean sensibility.  He instilled in us the heat and the passion and the sultriness of Verona.

63 years ago, and Judi Dench’s recall is as clear as a bell.  Just imagine being there!  Between my having done a staged Grammar School reading of Prince Hal in Henry IV (I was 12 and Hal was only 16); and seeing John Bell in 1964 when “he was a sensational Henry V, with Anna Volska as Katherine, in an innovative Adelaide Festival tent presentation. The Sydney Morning Herald called him ‘a possible Olivier of the future’”.  
https://liveperformance.com.au/hof-profile/john-bell-ao-am-obe
I remember my excitement on both occasions – especially when the Bell performers burst through past me in the audience and up on to the stage in the tent like the beginning of a great circus.

I wish I had Judi Dench’s memory for details and names – even just for the parts she’s played, in book order: MacbethLady Macbeth; A Midsummer Night’s DreamTitania, Hermia, First Fairy; Twelfth NightViola, Maria; The Merchant of VenicePortia; HamletOphelia, Gertrude; CoriolanusVolumnia; As You Like ItPhebe; Measure for MeasureIsabella; Much Ado About NothingBeatrice; King LearRegan, Cordelia and Goneril; The Comedy of ErrorsAdriana; Richard II Queen Isabel; Antony and Cleopatra Cleopatra; CymbelineImogen; All’s Well that Ends WellCountess of Roussillon; Henry VKatherine, Hostess; The Merry Wives of WindsorMistress Quickly, Anne Page; Richard IIIDuchess of York; The Winter’s TaleHermione, Perdita, Paulina, Time; Romeo and JulietJuliet.

Phew!  I didn’t even know some of these names.  And what an amazing array of women characters written by Shakespeare – so many of such great individual personal strength, who stand up for their rights and show so much more capability than most of the men in dealing with fraught, even life-threatening situations; and in times of passionate love – for a partner, or for a son or daughter.

Time after time, as you read a character’s lines in context with Dench’s recalling of how what she says fits into that part of the play, and why she says those words, or says nothing, or does some specific movement, or moves in the space – you find yourself seeing and hearing the performance happening; learning from this great actor how to create that role; realising how astute Judi Dench is in her own right; and absorbing the depth and quality of Shakepeare’s writing.

Yes, this book is a collection of Judi Dench’s practical responses to Brendan O’Hea’s questions, comments and sometimes argumentative points, including a stream of stories, both serious and humorous.  

Yet, it is also, as the equally famous Kenneth Branagh says, ‘A magical love letter to Shakespeare’, full of appreciation for what he achieved – with a powerful sense of purpose for theatre in the world today and in the future, even if it be as fractious as it was in Shakespeare’s time.  My copy was a wonderful surprise Christmas gift from my wife – but you don’t need to wait for a special occasion to give yourself or a loved one such stories as:

Taking a curtain call with a live snake in her wig…

Cavorting naked through the Warwickshire countryside painted green…

Acting opposite a child with a pumpkin on his head…

As the book cover says, “These are just a few of the things Dame Judi Dench has done in the name of Shakespeare.”

Enjoy!


©Frank McKone, Canberra

Friday 19 January 2024

2024: Mutiara - Sydney Festival

 

 


Mutiara – Produced by Marrugeku Inc with Bahri and Co (Broome, Western Australia).  Sydney Festival at Everest Theatre, Seymour Centre, January 19-21 2024.

Reviewed by Frank McKone
January 20

About Mutiara - at https://www.marrugeku.com.au/productions/mutiara  
The cruel, haunting past of the Kimberley’s now famous pearling industry told through intercultural dance and visual art revealing the resilience, love and strength of ancestors.  The work is a celebration of the unsung bond between First Peoples of the Kimberley and seafaring Malay peoples during a time of colonialism exploring the coexistence and the path that often led to love and lifelong companionship.

Mutiara reveals buried truths washed up and left along the shores of time, during an era of colonialism, racism, exploitation, slavery, and stolen children.  Ancestors tell stories, bones speak, ancestral beings feud, seas change and deep beneath the surface the diver yearns for home. Mutiara celebrates, heals and rewrites histories.

Co–choreographers and dancers Dalisa Pigram, Soultari Amin Farid and Zee Zunnur with Broome’s Ahmat Bin Fadal (ex–pearl diver) collaborate with visual artist Abdul–Rahman Abdullah, composer Safuan Johari, dramaturg Rachael Swain, costume designer Zoe Atkinson and lighting designer Kelsey Lee, to reflect on living within multiple shifting frames of identity, culture, faith and belonging.  Drawing on Yawuru and Minangkabau dance forms as well as silat and diasporic connections to land and sea to create a new dance language that disrupts binaries of identity and the borders of the nation state.

Mutiara is collaboratively created by:
Concept: Soultari Amin Farid, Dalisa Pigram, Zee Zunnur and Rachael Swain
Co-Choreographers and Performers: Soultari Amin Farid, Dalisa Pigram and Zee Zunnur with Ahmat Bin Fadal
Cultural Dramaturg: Soultari Amin Farid; Dramaturg: Rachael Swain
Composer, Sound Designer and Performer: Safuan Bin Johari
Set Designer: Abdul-Rahman Abdullah; Costume Designer: 
Zoë Atkinson
Lighting Designer: Kelsey Lee
Pearl Diving History and Malay Cultural Advisor, Silat Training: Ahmat Bin Fadal


Mutiara is an important expressive dance work, especially when presented in this kind of Festival.  Though there was a smaller audience than I would have hoped, it was clear that people were there with a positive expectation of the work, as dance and as cultural history.

Because of the different elements of the history of the pearling industry in north-western Australia and the way the European colonists related to the Malay divers; to the Australian Indigenous people; and to relationships between all three communities, it is a good idea to read the above information from the Marrugeku website and spend some time in the foyer exhibition before seeing the show.  

Then you will more easily appreciate the shifts in dance style, the highly original set design, and the combination of music and voice in the soundscape.  This is not a conventional linear story, but works in the ancient Aboriginal tradition that all the past is here now, together in the present.

The effect, as emotions are expressed in response to all those different elements, is to create not just a critical approach to colonialism, but a kind of wonder at the nature of this community, particular to the Broome and surrounding coastal region. Having driven more than once all those thousands of kilometres from my eastern Australia home to Broome and north to Cape Leveque, and seen some of the 130 million-years-old dinosaur footprints, it’s fascinating to gain a new understanding of life there today – in an original local modern dance form.

For me, a special value of this work is that it is cross-cultural.  It is a new way of expressing understanding and feelings of the Aboriginal, the Malay, and the European-based people; and the inter-related people of all three communities.  The establishment of such a company as Marrugeku Inc looks forward to a new and better world.

Though having only a short season here at the Sydney Festival, check the website for future tour opportunities.

Pearl Divers of Broome
Foyer Exhibition, Mutiara 2024

©Frank McKone, Canberra

Wednesday 17 January 2024

2024: Are we not drawn onward to new erA - Sydney Festival

 

 


 Are we not drawn onward to new erA. Ontroerend Goed (Belgium) in Sydney Festival at Roslyn Packer Theatre, January 16-20 2024.

Ontroerend Goed in coproduction with Spectra, Kunstencentrum Vooruit Gent, Theatre Royal Plymouth, Adelaide Festival & Richard Jordan Productions Ltd
The performance features William Basinski’s ‘Disintegration Loops’ by Spectra Ensemble

Reviewed by Frank McKone
January 17

Director:     Alexander Devriendt

Cast:
Angelo Tijssens / Giovanni Brand; Charlotte De Bruyne / Leonore Spee
Jonas Vermeulen / Ferre Marnef; Karolien De Bleser / Britt Bakker
Maria Dafneros / Kristien De Proost; & Vincent Dunoyer / Michaël Pas ​
 
Musicians: Spectra Ensemble
Tille Van Gastel/Katrien Gaelens (flute); Pieter Jansen/Wilbert Aerts (violin)
Bram Bossier (tenor violin); Peter Devos (cello); Frank Van Eycken (percussion)
Rik Vercruysse/Simon Haspeslagh (horn)
    ​
Dramaturgy: Jan Martens; Scenography: Philip Aguirre
Light, video & Sound: Jeroen Wuyts & Seppe Brouckaert
Lighting Design: Babette Poncelet; Technical assistance: Brecht, David & Pepijn
Costumes: Charlotte Goethals
Composition: William Basinski; Arrangements: Joris Blanckaert
Finishing off statue: Daan Verzele, Jelmer Delbecque, Jesse Frans
Photography: Mirjam Devriendt; Internships: Morgan Eglin, Tim De Paepe
Many thanks to: Ilona Lodewijckx, Luc De Bruyne, Matthieu Goeury, Simon Stokes, Björn Doumen, Les Ballets C de la B, everybody involved in the pre-study 'koortsmeetsysteemstrook' @ Toneelacademie Maastricht & our fantastic test-audiences.



I’m sorry to be such a philosophical sourpuss, but when a theatre company tries to take a quotation from Kierkegaard literally – “Life must be lived forwards, but it can only be understood backwards” – I suspect a kind of intellectual self-indulgence, and theatrical game-playing.  Perhaps I’m not a good member of a fantastic test-audience.

As is my wont, I chose not to pre-research this production, preferring to see it fresh without preconceptions.  Powerful theatre depends on actors having at their disposal a script, directing, sound, lighting, costumes, make-up and set design supporting them to create emotional responses in us – watching – as we find we can identify with characters, even those we would dislike if we met them in real life.

This is how theatre helps us understand our life anew.

For the first 40 minutes of Are we not drawn onward to new erA, we watched apparently disparate characters, who may or may not have known each other before meeting here, sometimes speaking in an apparently incomprehensible language (which I took not to be Flemish or Dutch nor Belgian French, but with occasional sounds that might have come from English) – and who mysteriously destroyed a small tree, floated a small helium balloon away up into the stage lighting, had the whole stage covered with plastic bags that mysteriously fell from where the balloon had gone, while two characters shared eating an apple from that clearly not-an-apple tree – and then even more mysteriously brought on stage a head and large sections of a four-metre plastic statue, and with great effort put it together and raised it to standing position.

Characters behave very much as individuals, with perhaps the apple eaters the only ones developing what could become a personal emotive relationship.

Not exactly exciting to watch beyond some sense of satisfaction in achieving the standing statue of a male figure.  Where might this story go, and what might it mean?

I had been told beforehand that the show lasted 85 minutes.

But at 40 minutes the main stage curtain was closed.  One woman actor came out onto the apron and spoke in English, mentioning something like life having to be lived bit by bit.  Then the curtain opened to reveal an image of her apparently on stage where she had been just before the curtain had closed.

As soon as I realised I was seeing a screen the full size of the stage proscenium and that it was beginning to show the second last position of the characters, I understood that I would be watching a technically quite astounding video which would go backwards for the second 40 minutes.

Would this be more interesting than the first 40 minutes?  Well, there were some moments when an action going backwards was surprisingly realistic-looking, some were quite amusing – but how would our understanding of life develop, when all the show became was a guessing game of trying to remember what we had seen before?

To make this entertaining, would there be an upbeat, light-hearted music accompaniment?  Well, all we heard was a boring constantly repetitive orchestral sound that offered nothing to add to what we were watching.  The unknown gentleman next to me began to fidget and I found my brain switching off, waiting for some new development to wake me up.

It never came until the end, where apparently all that had been on stage had disappeared in reverse.  Then the screen arose to reveal the mess still there from the live performance, and the live actors appeared for a conventional happy curtain call and the audience dutifully applauded.

On the Ontroerend Goed website, a reviewer, Els Van Steenberghe is quoted:

This is one of the most beautiful, most intelligent and committed performances Ontroerend Goed has ever made, on the boundary of visual art and theatre, poetry and politics. The piece looks marvelous [sic] (but sounds brutally inaccessible) during the first twenty minutes. These, however, are necessary to enable the masterful twist. Only then the performance turns into a clear, miraculous statement about how we threaten to destroy ourselves and our world.

Well, I got the idea watching the ruined tree and the plastic bags in the first half, but taking Kierkegaard literally backwards was an even less enlightening experience than reading this meangless quote in the first place.

To keep to the European theatrical culture, I think the Norwegian Henrik Ibsen did a much more threatrically powerful job of making a clear statement about how we threaten to destroy ourselves and our world in his 1882 play An Enemy of the People than the Belgians have done in this pretentiously named Are we not drawn onward to  new erA.  Just read it backwards: it’s just a joke – gameplaying in reverse, when we need action in reality, and powerful theatre to help make it happen.



©Frank McKone, Canberra

Tuesday 16 January 2024

2024: Ode to Joy - Sydney Festival

 


Marc MacKinnon, Lawrence Boothman, Sean Connor
in Ode to Joy 2024

 Ode to Joy (How Gordon got to go to the Nasty Pig Party).  Stories Untold Productions with James Ley (Scotland) at Sydney Festival, Bell Shakespeare Studio, The Neilson Nutshell (The Thirsty Mile), January 16-21 2024.

Created with support from Creative Scotland

Reviewed by Frank McKone
January 16

Creative Team
Writer / Director: James Ley
Dramaturg: Rosie Kellagher; Assistant Director: Matt McBrier
Movement Director: Craig Manson
Sound Designer: Susan Bear & DJ Simon ‘Simonotron’ Eilbeck
Lighting Designer: Emma Jones
Costume Designer: Cleo Rose McCabe; Wardrobe Asst: Hana Eggleston
Production Manager & Show Technician: Chris Gorman
Company Stage Manager: Robyn Jancovich-Brown



Ode to Joy is at its heart about how the UK Referendum on leaving or staying in the European Union, which resulted narrowly in a vote for “Brexit”, has cut Scotland off unfairly from Europe.

Since, as we all understand, the personal is political and the political is personal, James Ley has imagined ‘Gordon’, a sexually active gay male government lawyer – one of some 250 such lawyers, the others presumably straight.  Where will he find love?  Only in exotic Europe.

In a speech naming all the hot-spots, only there will he find freedom, without the conventions of borders – and indeed will find the joy that the German Beethoven expressed in his gloriously symphonic Ode to Joy.

Can he make it happen by drafting Scottish law to hold a second referendum?  Yes, he can.

But starting from this frustrated gay personal position has resulted in a weird kind of absurdist dance drama.  Tom is, or says he is, the narrator of Gordon’s story – which means he can change the story as needs be.  In fact he claims to become God – even though Gordon doesn’t believe in God.

Where Marcus fits in I was never sure.  And both he and Tom become sex drug pushers as Cumpig and Manpussy respectively.  After all, of course, it’s all pure imagination.  Don’t mention reality.

However you will receive a program which includes a “Glossary of Gay”, detailing Chemsex – “a term commonly used to describe the sexualised use of recreational drugs and the involvement of drugs in your sex life.”  Though as a non-gay at 83 I found the list irrelevant, it was interesting to learn that ‘Scat’, for example, means “sexual practices involving faeses”[sic]; and that ‘Pig’ “refers to a man who wants as much sex as he can get with as many different men as possible.”

In other words this manic dance is not for the faint-hearted.  It’s a kind of satire I guess, but my inability to understand much of the thickly Scottish accented dialogue meant I missed many of the specific jokes which many in the mixed-sex audience laughed at appreciatively.  (My 83-year-old hearing aids didn’t help much either.)

So I suggest I’m not really qualified to judge the quality of the show – as (I think) Cumpig remarked at some point, it’s a matter of personal preference.  It was certainly true that men in the audience were engaged in lively conversation as they left after genuinely-felt applause.

For me, on the political front, the play makes a serious point about the move, now in England as well as Scotland, to hold the referendum a second time.  This could mean that Scotland could leave the United Kingdom – and some have even suggested that Northern Ireland may reunite with the South, and Wales might make it difficult for King Charles III, who once was titled Prince of Wales.

An interesting experience, is my conclusion.

Lawrence Boothman, Sean Connor
in Ode to Joy 2024

 ©Frank McKone, Canberra

Sunday 14 January 2024

2024: Masterclass - Sydney Festival

 

 

Masterclass by Brokentalkers Theatre Company (Ireland) and Adrienne Truscott (New York).  Sydney Festival at the Sydney Opera House Drama Theatre, January 12-16 2024.

Reviewed by Frank McKone
January 13

Writers: Feidlim Cannon, Gary Keegan & Adrienne Truscott.
Creative Producer: Rachel Bergin
Movement Director: Eddie Kay
Costume Design: Sarah Foley
Lighting Design: Dara Hoban
Set Design: Ellen Kirk
Sound Design: Jennifer O’Malley


Cast
Adrienne Truscott and Feidlim Cannon.



I was hoist by my own petard at the end of Masterclass.  Just like Cannon’s self-important character, I stayed on until everyone else in the audience had decided to go; and even when the Opera House staff insisted I had to go, I could not leave without a desperate attempt to interview the actors – who were still refusing to leave the stage.

Adrienne’s female character would not leave because Cannon’s male would not leave because he still believed as a male he must maintain his place in the Master Class.  If he left, then she could too; but as things stood, for her to leave would mean her accepting his patriarchal role and leaving her less than equal.

As a male, was my insistence on holding everything up to the bitter end justified because I was in a journalist role seeking an interview?  Or was I just being another Cannon-style character?

I surrendered, and I left a note for the actors at the stage door before the staff’s politeness might have turned for the worse.

Of course, my story was exactly what the play was meant to be about – the truth about gender equality in the real world.

The play worked in raising everyone’s consciousness of the seriousness of the issue.  Will it make a real difference?  I guess I should have raced after other audience members and interviewed them before they went home.  But by then they had all gone.  

They had laughed at the characters’ twists and turns on stage before the final deadlock.  Would the males now really leave the stage so the females could have equal power from now on?  Or would men think they weren’t really like Cannon anyway?  Or would any women think Adrienne was too obsessed about her feminism?

Publicity describes the set-up: "All-round good guy Feidlim Cannon plays a blazer-clad talk show host interviewing a Hemingway-esque writer (Truscott), espousing a masterclass on playwriting." 

In the beginning Truscott is Adrian, only to reveal herself later as Adrienne.  I thought I heard Cannon called “Alex” – perhaps Alexander the Great?  The technicalities of this highly physical performance made it certainly engrossing, with props and costumes all over the place, as well as sound and lighting everywhere all at once.  

But I have to say I began to find the script beginning to sound too clever-clever, too comedic, even farcical, rather than getting to the guts of the patriarchy-feminism problem.  That’s why I wanted to talk to the actors who were also the writers.

The ending, when neither will leave the stage, says no more than male-female power is deadlocked with no possible solution except for everyone to walk away.  You might say historically it’s an advance to have got to this point, since the rise of the New Woman in European culture in the 19th Century.  

But I suggest that Bernard Shaw offered more in his plays Arms and the Man (1894), Mrs Warren’s Profession (1902) and his major work on the issue, The Intelligent Woman's Guide to Socialism and Capitalism (1928; Pelican 1937), even though, as Wikipedia records, “The book inspired a respectful and detailed reply from Lilian Le Mesurier in The Socialist Woman's Guide to Intelligence: a reply to Mr. Shaw first published in 1929. Le Mesurier objected to Shaw's self-satisfied and condescending tone.”
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Intelligent_Woman%27s_Guide_to_Socialism_and_Capitalism

Masterclass has acquired a considerable reputation since its presentation at the Dublin and Edinburgh Fringe Festivals (2021/22) and succeeded in leaving a rather bewildered audience in Sydney as they realised they had to decide to leave the auditorium since the actors wouldn’t leave the stage.

So I can only conclude my review inconclusively.

 

©Frank McKone, Canberra

Friday 12 January 2024

2024: Big Name, No Blankets - Ilbijerri Theatre Company

 


Big Name, No Blankets by Andrea James with Anyupa Butcher and Sammy Butcher (founding member of Warumpi Band).  
Sydney Festival production, Ilbijerri Theatre Company at Roslyn Packer Theatre (Sydney Theatre Company), January 10-14, 2024.

Reviewed by Frank McKone
Opening Night January 12

Writer: Andrea James; Cultural Consultant: Sammy Butcher
Co-Directors: Dr Rachel Maza AM & Anyupa Butcher
Music Director: Gary Watling
Cinematographer & Sound Designer: James Henry
Sound Arrangements & Composition: Crystal Butcher
Sound Arrangements & Composition Mentor: David Bridie
Set Designer: Emily Barrie; Lighting Designer: Jenny Hector
Costume Designer: Heidi Brooks; Video Content Designer: Sean Bacon
Animation: Patricia McKean & Guck; Dramaturg: Amy Sole
Producers: Nina Bonacci & Alexandra Paige
ConsultantsTheatre: Sarah Goodes; Creative: Lisa Watts
Production Manager: Nathan Evers; Stage Manager: Celina Mack
Assistant Stage Manager: PJ Rosas & Kira Feeney
Audio Engineer: Daniel Lade

Warumpi Family Consulting: Suzina McDonald & Marion Burarrwanga
Pikilyi painting entitled Yuparli Dreaming by Eunice Napangardi
Yuparli Tjukurrpa (Pikilyi) song sung by Reenie Robertson

Performers

Baykali Ganambarr (Sammy)
Googoorewon Knox (George)
Teangi Knox (Gordon & drums)
Aaron McGrath (Brian & Ensemble)
Jackson Peele (Neil)
Cassandra Williams (Suzina, Mum & Ensemble)
Tibian Wyles (Ian, Ensemble & Understudy)

Core Band

Gary Watling, Jason Butcher, Jeremiah Butcher, Malcolm Beveridge



The idea of a play within a play is always stimulating for going into unexpected meanings.  Big Name, No Blankets is fascinating because it is more an opera within an opera, as the musicians from Papunya tell their own story of their Warumpi Band through their own music.  Opera is often thought of as the most complete art form, in the European tradition of grandiose stage settings, costumes, music, with the story told through song and choreography, usually with minimal spoken dialogue.

The Warumpi Band was begun by Sammy Butcher in 1980 and established an Australia- and World-wide reputation, for their Central Desert interpretations of Rock&Roll, Country and Western, and Desert Reggae, influenced by Midnight Oil for its central political theme, expressed in the finale in this show, with the whole audience standing up and singing Stand Up And Be Counted for indigenous land rights.

This video set design is not grandiose, but has its own grandeur taking us visually on Warumpi’s journey from the Haast Ranges and around the world.  

Yet the story, told with terrific impact by, in his quiet way, Baykali Ganambarr as Sammy, and in an almost over-the-top way by Googoorewon Knox as George, turns out to be a kind of rags-to-riches tragicomedy.  You’ll come to understand what humbug money is all about.

You will feel the strength of Country for these people.  And the real meaning of Call my Island Home – for Saltwater Man, George from Elcho Island (so different from Desert Country); and even for Australia as a whole when that song was used for the opening of the Olympic Games in Sydney in 2000.

Big Name, No Blankets is a truth-telling work of theatre art from people described by the National Museum of Australia this way:

Papunya was established as a government settlement in 1959, when Aboriginal people came in from the desert. Settlements such as Papunya were established by successive Australian governments under the controversial policy of assimilation. They aimed to socialise Aboriginal people into a European way of life.

We felt in the audience filling the Sydney Theatre Company’s Roslyn Packer Theatre at the world premiere of Big Name, No Blankets that it’s time now for assimilation to go the other way, for all of us to benefit.  As they sing, It Doesn’t Matter Wbat Your Name Is – we are all one at heart, with the same need for our place in Country, the same depth of sadness as people pass away too soon; and the same sense of humour as both the exuberant George and the peace-maker Sammy.

If a Festival should bring together our people’s memories and look to the future with resilience and a sense of purpose, it’s all there in the Warumpi Band story Big Name, No Blankets.