Company B and Malthouse Thearte
1 November 2008
Beckett Theatre, CUB Malthouse
The telling of stories is how we remember, grow and learn. Yibiyung tells the story of writer Dallas Winmar’s Nan who lived at a time when, “You just did things because it was all you knew.”
I think I can safely say that the key demographics of the Malthouse audience are: liberal, middle class, over-educated, fond of Sauvignon Blanc and own “Sorry” t-shirts. So I wonder if “we” are the right audience for this story.
Yibiyung the most traditional “play” I’ve seen at the Malthouse in a long while. Its dramatic telling was predictable, the characters could do with some fleshing out and complexity, it followed a well-worn structural path, and told a well known story. Those unfamiliar with this story may have found it more compelling. It may actually be clear and bland enough for the likes of Little Johnny H to understand. (He’s got some free time now, but I’m guessing he still chose to watch “Dancing with the Stars” instead of going to that theatre.)
I wanted a more complex and ambiguous story, but I came back to director Wesley Enoch’s program notes. “At the heart of every story lies the reason for telling it. Sometimes these reasons are personal and therapeutic, and sometimes the story takes on a social/political role – a national metaphor – and is told for the benefit of many. The stories of the Stolen Generation are like that.”
If Yibiyung was fiction, it would be a different story. Winmar is telling us her Nan’s story and has chosen to tell it with love, respect and honesty. Louise Gough’s dramaturgy crafted its telling, but never let Winmar’s voice become secondary. And it is Winmar’s story that is being shared with us, including the letters and official correspondence about Yibiyung (thanks to the Freedom of Information Act) and the Noongar language of Western Australia spoken without unnecessary translation.
Enoch concludes, “In a post-apology world the need to tell these stories has not evaporated.” Yibiyung is a story that needs to be told, but there’s room in the telling for some new layers.
I think I can safely say that the key demographics of the Malthouse audience are: liberal, middle class, over-educated, fond of Sauvignon Blanc and own “Sorry” t-shirts. So I wonder if “we” are the right audience for this story.
Yibiyung the most traditional “play” I’ve seen at the Malthouse in a long while. Its dramatic telling was predictable, the characters could do with some fleshing out and complexity, it followed a well-worn structural path, and told a well known story. Those unfamiliar with this story may have found it more compelling. It may actually be clear and bland enough for the likes of Little Johnny H to understand. (He’s got some free time now, but I’m guessing he still chose to watch “Dancing with the Stars” instead of going to that theatre.)
I wanted a more complex and ambiguous story, but I came back to director Wesley Enoch’s program notes. “At the heart of every story lies the reason for telling it. Sometimes these reasons are personal and therapeutic, and sometimes the story takes on a social/political role – a national metaphor – and is told for the benefit of many. The stories of the Stolen Generation are like that.”
If Yibiyung was fiction, it would be a different story. Winmar is telling us her Nan’s story and has chosen to tell it with love, respect and honesty. Louise Gough’s dramaturgy crafted its telling, but never let Winmar’s voice become secondary. And it is Winmar’s story that is being shared with us, including the letters and official correspondence about Yibiyung (thanks to the Freedom of Information Act) and the Noongar language of Western Australia spoken without unnecessary translation.
Enoch concludes, “In a post-apology world the need to tell these stories has not evaporated.” Yibiyung is a story that needs to be told, but there’s room in the telling for some new layers.
This review appeared on AussieTheatre.com
