What Melbourne Loved in 2021, part 5

Eugyeen Teh and Keith Gow are both regulars on SM and supporters of SM. Both talk about how they using the endless time of lock down.

Eugyeene Teh
Designer, sewer, really butch gardner

Eugyeene Teh: always dressed perfectly

What theatre/art/creative experience did you love the most 2021 (or 2020)?
When the severe June storm came with its gale-force winds and ravaged many of the trees around us, I noticed that the root balls that used to support these giant 30-metre tall trees were quite small. Which meant that all the other hundreds, thousands of trees that swayed in the winds, bending rhythmically with one another, stayed firmly in place against all odds. There is a lesson to be learnt from this, and I’ve been trying to figure it out.

When we wrapped up Grey Arias at Malthouse in February 2020, just before bumping into the theatre, I parted ways with the production team with a 'farewell' and 'happy projects'. At that time, nobody knew what those words implied, but in hindsight, the cancellation of live performance also meant dedicated time and space for other things that had perpetually been put aside.

What surprised you about finding new ways to make art in locked-down worlds? 
A vast development in digital works that still had a feeling of 'liveness' to them. I feel that our industry has been pushed to reckon with its own form, so creating exciting synergies with new media. It has also a key tool for us as artists to use to push through to the next era, find new forms to engage with audiences, reconsider our values and let go of staid conventions. Also pleased to see creative new ways to make affecting works with more consideration and less resources.

I loved that Lou Wall subverted everything with her online film Lousical the Musical, not just redefining the form of live performance but got even more personal than we’ve ever experienced with her.  I watched Raina Peterson and Govind Pillai explore bodies through online dance works from shower cubicles to the bush in the form of a blob made from Melbourne Fringe festival guides made redundant by endless lockdowns. Earlier on, I witnessed a very live, riotous, meta-theatrical A Disorganized Zoom Reading of the Script from Contagion with a Melbourne all-star cast playing Kate Winslet, Jude Law, Matt Damon, Marion, Laurence, Gwyneth and beyond. Marcus McKenzie blew my mind with The Crying Room for the Melbourne Arts Centre Take Over!  at home residency by plunging us into the dark minds of the internet, reminiscent of Gaspar Noe’s Enter the Void. 

Stephen Nicolazzo and the students from Sir Zelman Cohwen School of Music and Performance’s Body Horror at Melbourne Fringe justified the black holes existing in our brains with raw, explosive and incredibly fun imagery channeled from the students’ bloodied bedrooms. Finucane and Smith also brought all the intimacy of live performance to the home screen, via a bathtub that reminded us of the plight of the planet and the melting icebergs in Antartica. Patricia Piccinini’s exhibition, A Miracle Constantly Repeated, the only surviving artwork from RISING festival, pushed through with an outpouring of empathy. And Cheryl Ho and her collaborators summoned memories of my displaced home and family in 落叶归根 (Luò yè guī gēn) Getting Home at Melbourne Fringe.
 
What did you do to stay connected to your arts community?
Apart from steadily working through five solid shows that got cancelled just before bump in, I instigated ways to creatively engage with the community through various forms. Ultimately, they served as a documentation or marker of this very significant time that we are all experiencing.

Less minimalist tasks included co-creating an awards ceremony and hand-crafting its physical awards, (my 71-year-old neighbour helped me chainsaw the wood when my chainsaw was getting fixed) on a voluntary capacity, and making customised masks for anyone who wanted them. They were both ultimately rewarding, though unsustainable, and a great learning curve. As an exercise, I was interested in seeing how much I could create and share, with as little time, resource and energy as possible – a mindset or skill I knew that is essential to take into the next era. One of these is a simple, lateral social media persona I created re-framing some menial activities I was already doing: #gardeningwitheugyeene is ironic glam gardening based on true events.
 
What are you looking forward to in 2022?
I look forward to working creatively in the flesh, the thrill of putting up a show, seeing shows again, and seeing friends, in foyers, and free champagne – all in moderation!

SM: Eugyeene became the co-President (with Sapidah Kian) of Melbourne's Green Room Awards in 2020. His discussion of reconsidering our values and letting go of staid conventions is very relevant (and exciting) here.

I have one of Eugyeene's early masks – I have an original Teh! – and he helped inspire me to start sewing. 400+ masks later, the one I was most proud of was one I made for Eugyeene (from sarong fabric I bought in Kuching). I knew that if I could give one to a master stitcher, my skills were heading in the right direction.

Keith Gow
Playwright, reviewer,  knows that sci-fi is as good as those plays we revere
Very productive in lockdown

What theatre/art/creative experience did you love the most 2021 (or 2020)?
For a year that was strangled by multiple lockdowns in Melbourne, I still got to see some great theatre. Come From Away, which I saw for the second time, felt like the perfect return to big budget musicals after a complete absence in 2020. Sexual Misconduct of the Middle Classes was an excellent well-made play at MTC. The immersive experience of Because the Night was truly memorable because of the excellent design and some searing performances, even if the narrative didn’t quite work. The fact we got a new Patricia Cornelius/Susie Dee collaboration in RUNT was very special. And two shows at La Mama Courthouse from new writers made me excited to see where those writers would go: This Genuine Moment and Cactus.

I also adored the Patricia Piccinini exhibition at Flinders St Station, the only part of the first Rise Festival that survived lockdown.

And Daniel Lammin’s Ink & Paint podcast is a truly wonderful thing that has helped me through both years, prompting me to watch classics I’ve never seen or haven’t seen in years, prompting lots of discussions with friends and loved-ones about Disney animated classics.

What surprised you about finding new ways to make art in locked-down worlds?
Even though one particular show I’ve been working on was bumped from two Melbourne Fringes in a row, I’ve been quite lucky to make a few little things over 2020 and 2021 that have been really satisfying. Some of it has been online and some in the flesh (one show I directed ended up doing both) and it felt like a real privilege to being making work happen during these disastrous years.

Zoom rehearsals were a blessing and a curse. Keeping up momentum was really important, particularly during our most recent lockdown with Fringe 2021 in sight. We’d started rehearsing earlier in the year, thinking we had plenty of time and then the floor disappeared from under us again. But being able to keep in touch with actors and have them learn the text during those months was really satisfying. And allowed us to hit the ground running when Melbourne started to open up again.

I had a short play live-streamed last year. I directed a monologue that was filmed in 2020 and then staged in 2021 – and even though those two mediums have fundamental differences, it was fun to find ways to play the same piece differently.

And that play I’ve been working on for two years, well it’s better now than it would have been had we done it at Fringe 2020. Even better than if we’d done it at Fringe 2021. And luckily we get to stage Shakespeare Aliens at Theatre Works in January; our two years of development was not in vain.
 
What did you do to stay connected to your arts community?
I watched some streaming theatre. I chatted with theatre makers on and off Twitter. And I kept writing and sending things off for feedback and development. I kept making work and it’s probably been the most productive two years I’ve had for a decade. It only took a pandemic…

These two years have taught me what my real priorities would be going forward. I’ll probably be writing less reviews in 2022. I’ll still see lots of theatre but I also hope to keep making more. I wrote a full length play this year that’s the best thing I’ve written, so I want to take time to develop it.
 
What are you looking forward to in 2022?
I’m so excited that La Mama is re-opening  with a festival and I can’t wait to see shows in the newly built recreation of the original theatre space. I can’t wait for Looking for Alibrandi at Malthouse, as well as Stay Woke. MTC has a solid year of brand-new works, though I’m excited to see Fun Home again and I can’t wait to catch up with Cyrano and Sunshine Super Girl after they were delayed. And I want to make it to Sydney to finally see The Picture of Dorian Gray after missing out four times (!) so far. I mean, I literally had four different dates over the last two years and two cancelled flights to see it. I need to make this happen.

SM: Shakespeare Aliens. SHAKESPEARE ALIENS!!!!! I love Aliens. (I love Alien more, but that's a different show.) I've been looking forward to this for a long time and it may take an alien invasion to stop me seeing it in January at Theatre Works.

I've missed talking to Keith after shows. He sees so many shows and is one of the biggest supporters of indie theatre in Melbourne. I look forward to much more talking next year.

Review: Fuck Fabulous

Midsumma
Fuck Fabulous
Arts Centre Melbourne in association with Fat Fruit
Fairfax Studio
21 April 20210
to 2 May
artscentremelbourne.com.au

Fuck Fubulous

My review is in Witness Performance.

(Apologies for not posting it ages ago.)

MIAF: Gender Euphoria

MELBOURNE INTERNATIONAL ARTS FESTIVAL
Gender Euphoria
in association with Arts Centre Melbourne
15 October 2019
The Famous Spiegeltent, Arts Centre Melbourne
to 20 October
www.festival.melbourne

"Gender Eurphoria" Mama Alto. Photo by Alexis Desaulniers-Lea

Press 6.

That's Mama Alto's advice. She gives damn good advice.

When dealing with a robo call during an election, there wasn't an answer that was right for her. When only only option is "1" or "2",  press 6. Binaries only exist in computing.

Welcome to Gender Euphoria. It's a state of mind, a way of being. It's the world we're creating. It's an end to gender dysphoria and a celebration of hope and life.

It's a fuck off to the hate created by fear and to the fear created by hate. It's an end to the ignorance and stupidity that create shame. It's an end to invisibility, hiding and the idea that discomfort is the fault of the uncomfortable person.

It's heartbreak and anger and the relief of over overcoming them.

It's song, burlesque, poetry, comedy, witchcraft, dance, sequins, pride, pride flags, ruffles, flying, supporting, well-cut suits, music and unmitigated joy that shifts the weight of shame.

It's Nevo Zisan's gender whispering to children that they are loved and infecting people with empathy.

Co-created by Mama Alto and director Maude Davey, it was first seen at this year's Midsumma festival, and was, at the time, the largest cast of Trans and gender-diverse performers seen in Australia. This time, the cast is bigger

Along with Mama and Nevo, there's Amao Leota Lu, Miss Bailee Rose, Fury, Harvey Zeilinski, Mahla Bird, Mx Munro, Ned Dixon, Quinn Eades and new special guests Crystal Love, Nikki Viveca and Krishna Istha. And musical director Ned Dixon and bass player Cerise Howard. And Auslan interpreters Mac Gordon and Kirri Dangerfield. And everyone working backstage and in the background.

Embargos mean that its next performances can't be talked about yet, but there are more performances. And I hope that it keeps getting seen at festivals all over the world until audiences wonder why Trans and gender-diverse performers are in a show of their own.


Alexis Desaulniers-Lea is the Gender Euphoria photographer. Photos help people be seen. I'll add more photos next week when they are ready. You've gotta see everyone.

"Gender Eurphoria" Maude Davey, Mama Alto. Photo by Alexis Desaulniers-Lea

"Gender Eurphoria" Harvey Zeilinski . Photo by Alexis Desaulniers-Lea

"Gender Eurphoria" Mahla Bird, Quinn Eades. Photo by Alexis Desaulniers-Lea

"Gender Eurphoria" Nikki Viveca. Photo by Alexis Desaulniers-Lea

"Gender Eurphoria" Crystal Love. Photo by Alexis Desaulniers-Lea

"Gender Eurphoria" Mahla Bird. Photo by Alexis Desaulniers-Lea

"Gender Eurphoria" Mx Munro . Photo by Alexis Desaulniers-Lea

"Gender Eurphoria" Miss Bailee Rose . Photo by Alexis Desaulniers-Lea

"Gender Eurphoria" Cerise Howard . Photo by Alexis Desaulniers-Lea

"Gender Eurphoria" Nevo Zisan . Photo by Alexis Desaulniers-Lea

"Gender Eurphoria" Krishna Istaha . Photo by Alexis Desaulniers-Lea

"Gender Eurphoria" Fury . Photo by Alexis Desaulniers-Lea

"Gender Eurphoria" Amao Leota Lu . Photo by Alexis Desaulniers-Lea

Note: When you slip up and use the wrong pronoun, you apologise because it is YOUR fault, not the fault of the person that you've misgendered. Don't know what pronoun they use? Ask them. And see how easy it is to use a gender-neutral first-person grammatically-correct pronoun in English.

MIAF: Colossus

MELBOURNE INTERNATIONAL ARTS FESTIVAL
Colossus
Stephanie Lake Company
5 October 2019
Fairfax Studio, Arts Centre Melbourne
to 6 October
www.festival.melbournek

"Colossus". Stephanie Lake Company

Colossus was given the competitive Arts Centre Melbourne and Melbourne Fringe Take Over commission for 2018. This gives the company the resources, support and previously almost-unheard-of opportunity to take over the Fairfax Studio area and create a new work. It also makes connections with the most independent of theatre festivals and the venue at the peak of arts in our city. The Melbourne Fringe season of Colossus sold out and was regularly talked about as an unforgettable show of 2018.

MIAF director Jonathan Holloway said at a media briefing that the only way he could see this show that so many people were talking about was to book it for the festival. It sold out again.

Melbourne-based choreographer Stephanie Lake formed her own company in 2014. She became known in Melbourne for her work with Chunky Move and Lucy Guerin Inc and has worked with many Australian and international companies and had work in international festivals.

Colossus is a work that couldn't have been made without the the support of a bigger organisation. There are 50 dancers in black on a stage that is a bit bigger than size of 50 dancers lying arm to arm, feet to the centre, in a circle. They are young and emerging dancers and are performing in an international festival.

Working with so many dancers is rare; I can't think of a contemporary company that is able to create with so many people.

For all of this alone, the work is so unique that you can regret not getting a ticket.

The bonus is that it's exquisite and impossible to look away. It begins in stillness, in that circle of dancers, and one movement creates momentum and energy that comes in waves that gently lap and tsunami and breaks apart and joins together until it eventually collapses. It's like a physics lesson as movement from one dancer creates movement in the next, and individuals swarm in masses or and break away for a moment before return is inevitable. No one is more important. No one is not important. The community are as much the art as its creators.

The community is also Robin Fox's composition that is almost inseparable from the movement as it follows and leads when it needs to, and Bosco Shar's lighting that creates a world that interacts with the dancers interacting with each other. It's stunning. The floor and walls are white. Sometimes shadows are created by light, but there are bodies between the source and the wall and at times it looks like there are shadows of shadows as height and depth and shades of grey change and move as the join and cross and fade.

It's so difficult to create work with a large cast, but Colossus has been seen twice now – and that's not enough.

Review: Robert Wilson performs John Cages Lecture On Nothing.

Supersense Festival
Robert Wilson performs John Cages Lecture On Nothing
Arts Centre Melbourne
24 August 2019
Playhouse
to 24 August
artscentremelbourne.com.au

"Robert Wilson performs John Cages Lecture On Nothing" Photo by Lucie Jansch

Robert Wilson performs John Cages Lecture On Nothing.

He sure does. He's been doing so since 2012 and did it twice in Melbourne on Saturday.

I nearly missed it as I was stuck in the White Night crowds: thousands of people looking at pretty lights and pictures on buildings and hoping for adventure on the traffic-free city streets. They might struggle with a show about the art of nothing. I was with them for a while. Where is the art in nothing?

The stage is contained by blue-white light and filled with banners written in upper case hand-painted black letters. They look like sentences, but they are mostly just words. These words become very familiar over the next hour or so. The floor is covered with scrunched up balls of paper that are so evenly spread that someone must know exactly how many balls per square metre of stage. Wilson, now in his 70s, sits at a desk. Wearing a white linen shirt and pants and white make up, he looks like a character in a Robert Wilson show. Another man, with black and white make up, stands on a level above Wilson's right under a screen and there's a bed to Wilson's left to complete the diagonal line. Their precise movement is easy to miss and the music is less than screeching but heading to an overbearing squeal of two notes.

John Cage (1912-92) was an American composer and theorist. The most-common way into discovering him is in his 1952 composition 4' 33". Played or performed on any instrument, it's four minutes and 33 seconds of silence; I first saw it performed on a toy piano. It's the kind of acclaimed genius that makes people scoff at minimalist theatre and love the pretty of White Night adventures. But it's still performed – a lot. Without Cage, we may not have the likes of Phillip Glass, John Adams, Terry Riley, Michael Nyman, Henryk Górecki or any of the background music I used to play at dinner parties.

Lecture on Nothing (1959) is written like a  piece of music, there are pauses and repetition.
       and repetition.       
       and repetition.
It's as much form as it's about form, and as much performance as it's about performance. It floats in that strange space that understands the art as it claims to be ephemeral.

There are plenty of lectures about the lecture, which was published in book – but this is a performance.

Robert Wilson (b 1941) is a theatre director and artists who is best known for Einstein on the Beach, his collaboration with composer Phillip Glass and choreographer Lucinda Childs. First seen in 1976, it's a show that lives up to its own legend. We've been privileged in Melbourne to have seen Einstein twice and had Wilson's works feature at Melbourne festivals.

When the music/noise stops, Wilson is alone on the stage. He takes a page from the pile of pages in front of him. It's a very large pile. As it takes a couple minutes to read each page, there's a ripple of fear that the 70-minute running time was a lie. Art can lie. Is he really going to read it, like the title says?

It's odd to have to listen to Robert Wilson theatre. So much of his work is about unspoken communication. Maybe the words really matter this time? Maybe.

But soon he's talking about structure and I'm there.

When I teach, new writers roll their eyes when I tell them that the secret to writing is structure, and that talent and creativity are the maple-flavoured dust on the icing on the cake layered with word play and metaphor. Structure's my way into understanding and letting go of any understanding about this nothing.

Robert Wilson performs John Cages Lecture On Nothing is as earnestly serious as it's disrespectfully funny. Some people scurry out – I wonder what they expected? – some laugh and others nod in understanding as the refrain of "More and more I have the feeling that we are getting nowhere" becomes profound and totally ridiculous.

If you dig the work of Wilson and Cage, you were probably there and you'll see it again if you get the chance.

What Melbourne Loved in 2018, part 2

As moments come in, I don't try and find themes and connections, but they usually happen anyway. Today, one favourite was programmed by another. And there's discussion about the importance of diversity on our stages, and about indie artists and shows on main stages.

Daniel Clarke
Arts Centre Melbourne
Creative Producer, Theatre and Contemporary Performance

Dan and Donnie

Favourite moments in 2018
Blackie Blackie Brown at Malthouse was one of the most exciting examples of contemporary Australian theatre that I have seen. I sat there completely gripped and amazed by what I was seeing on stage. The direction, writing, performances and stunning AV design all came together to produce an electrifying political work that I hope gets to travel around the globe. Developed over years, this work clearly demonstrates the importance of investment in visionary artists to take the time they need to develop a new work.

Bighouse Dreaming was a devastating and urgent work. It shattered me. I first saw Declan Furber-Gillick perform at Decolonising Stories, an event produced by Arts Centre Melbourne, curated by Candy Bowers. I knew in that moment that here was an extraordinary talent. I vividly remember sitting in the Fairfax foyer watching his performance soexcited that I had been introduced to an artist with such an original, powerful, political and poetic voice. When I saw his work Bighouse Dreaming, directed with exquisite restraint by Mark Wilson during Melbourne Fringe, I knew that here we had someone who would make a major contribution to our culture. Was already doing it. This work needs to be seen far and wide. In schools, in the mainstream, as a tool for urgent change in the correctional services. Much respect to all cast and creatives and Mechanics Institute and Melbourne Fringe for supporting the work.

Looking forward to in 2019
Can’t wait to see Barbara and the Camp Dogs at Malthouse, Deer Woman and Counting and Cracking at Sydney Festival, Emily Sexton’s first year at Arts House, and Bryce Ives’s first year at Theatre Works. And Kylie Minogue, of course, and Queen Kong at Arts Centre Melbourne. In Adelaide, I can’t wait to finally see Bitch Dyke Faghag Whore by Penny Arcade and explore David Sefton’s brilliant Royal Croquet Club Program as part of Adelaide Fringe. Oh and Hannah Norris’s Afteryou, with her Mum, is going to be very special.

SM: Dan has continued the  amazing programming and development work he did at Theatre Works at Arts Centre Melbourne. Not only are we seeing some of the best indie theatre from around the world  at the Arts Centre – the Big World, Up Close program was amazing – , but there are also developments, workshops, discussions and plans that are bringing some of our best independent and emerging performers and creators onto main stages. As this happens, our main-stages become far more exciting places to visit.

PS. I saw Bitch Dyke Faghag Whore in the early 90s.

Monique Grbec
Awesome
Reviewer

From Facebook

Favourite moments in 2018
Matriarch at Melbourne Fringe, a Stolen Generations story of reconnection, and Taha from Big World, Up Close at Arts Centre Melbourne

Looking forward to in 2019
More diverse stories.

SM: Monique is one of the awesome new reviewers at Witness. We met at a show set in the 1980s and bonded over knowing every song that was used.


Christopher Bryant
Playwright and academic

Christopher Bryant. Photo by Lisa Maree Williams

Favourite moments in 2018
I didn't see as much as I wanted to this year, partly for money reasons and partly because this year has just been hectic – but two moments vie for my attention.  The first is the ending of Nicola Gunn's Working With Children. I know it was considered divisive (that wonderful catch-cry of theatre that can't be summed up easily enough), but I found myself enthralled by her words and movement, her humour and her dissemination of philosophy throughout. The moment in particular was the end: she sets up a series of strange childlike contraptions that create a shadowy mosaic... and then leaves. It took the audience I was in about five minutes as they went through the process of sitting in silence, waiting for Gunn to return,  realising something was 'wrong', and finally realising they'd been duped and the show was over. It was outrageous and I loved it.

The second was the growing disquiet of Lottie in the Late Afternoon by Amelia Roper  at fortyfivedownstairs. What started as an all-too familiar narrative about old friends reconnecting on a vacation slowly filled up with dark humour and just a touch of existential dread.  I can't get the feeling of being in that audience out of my head: as audience grew more and more uncomfortable while also never quite being sure *why* they were uncomfortable.

Looking forward to in 2019
So much and, as always, my brain seems to have forgotten anything specific, but that's the great thing about Melbourne – there's always so much to see! I am keen for Golden Shield by Anchuli Felicia King at MTC (she's doing so well, and I'm so excited to finally see one of her works). and MUST's adaptation of Slaughterhouse Five at Theatre Works (I saw it at Monash but it's just so great to see quality student work getting a second life).

SM: I didn't see any of Christopher's work this year – to be fair, he was OS a fair but – so my favourite moment has to be his Facebook panic when he realised the international flight he was booked on left at the end of the day not the next day, as he thought. He made the flight. I felt ill when I read it.

UPDATE: I saw Sneakyville that he wrote! How could I forget that! It was about Charles Manson and explored why people love and are obsessed with the worst of people.

What Melbourne Loved in 2018, part 1

This is my favourite end-of-year tradition. Melbourne's theatre community talks about what they  loved this year. We hear from critics, directors, actors, writers, designers and people who simply see a LOT of theatre.

This series reminds us how much reviews and criticism are just small part of the reaction to a show. Shows that didn't get great reviews are still loved and shows that got piles of those darn stars can be forgotten.  It also reminds us – yes publicists, I'm talking to you – that discussion and writing continue long after a season finishes.

We start with two SM regulars and a first timer.

I was going to wait until 1 December but Stephen talks so wonderfully about The Director, which is still on this week. I also adored this show.

Everyone is welcome to contribute. Your memories and moments don't have to have been something you saw on a stage, and sometimes one sentence is all you need.

Here's the Google form to write your contribution.

Stephen Nicolazzo
Director
Little Ones Theatre

Steven Nicolazzo

Favourite moments in 2018
My favourite moment in Melbourne theatre happened just last night (now last week) at Lara Thoms's The Director (Arts House). This work was a deftly handled and emotionally liberating exploration of the ritual of death and inescapable grief. It was told with such openness that catharsis seemed to take place not just for the audience but for the performers as well. It was like a strange and intimate conjuring of grief and joy that no one saw coming. Experiencing a work that made notions of your own mortality both humorous and heart-breaking in a room full of your peers and strangers, unexpectedly struck a chord so deep within me I didn't think I could access such emotion. It was an astonishing thing. I am so pleased to have experienced The Director and grateful to the artists who created it. Its performance that while serious in some of its content, still had the smarts to laugh at it self and the thing some of us (including me) fear the most. I just found it so refreshing and absorbing as a result.

The other brilliant moment of 2018 was Joel Bray’s work Dharawungara as part of Chunky Move's Next Move 11. It was spectacular: a stunning, clever and moving rite of passage mixing story telling, dance and visual theatre. Designed by the glorious Kate Davis (of The Rabble) and with live score by Naretha Williams, this piece was a special one. New form, humour, and queer aesthetics all rolled into one piece. It was a divine and holy experience.

I also truly admired and love love love LOVED everything about Going Down by Michelle Lee (especially Catherine Davies's performance and the entire ensemble. It was just the funniest, brightest, smartest piece of theatre of the year!).

Other truly brilliant, touching and inspiring works were: Moral Panic (Rachel Perks and Bridget Balodis), Lone (The Rabble), Prehistoric (Elbow Room) and Samara Herch and Chambermade Opera's Dybbuks.

Looking forward to in 2019
I am looking forward to Dance Massive the most. I always find this festival so friggen inspiring. I'm also excited to see whatever is happening at Darebin Arts and Jennifer Vuletic's performance in Arbus and West at MTC. Golden Shield looks really interesting too!

SM: I first saw a Little Ones Theatre show in 2009. If I can, I'll keep seeing every show Stephen creates with his company, even if I don't gush every time. Stephen's had an up and down year with the critics. My favourite of his works this year was Suddenly Last Summer at Red Stitch, which I saw it on the last weekend. He queered a queer text; it was glorious. And great news that his Merciless Gods gets a return season at Arts Centre Melbourne in 2019.

Keith Gow
Playwright and critic

           

Keith Gow. Selfie

Favourite moments in 2018

Before I talk about what happened on stage, let me first give a shout out to Witness Performance – a new outlet for discussing theatre in Melbourne (and to a lesser extent, Australia), both critically and historically. Witness has brought Alison Croggon back to regularly writing about theatre and also given a platform to First Nation’s critic Clarissa Lee, as well as welcoming other new critics from diverse backgrounds throughout the year. As other avenues for critical writing shrink, Witness is putting out long form, thoughtful critical reactions to theatre that is vital for robust discussion, as well as being a strong historical record. Admittedly, I am slightly biased, having written for Witness a few times this year, as well as having Rob Reid review my Fringe show there.

On stage, I will have seen over 100 shows by the time this year is finished. I saw amazing work all over Melbourne this year. From Hir at Red Stitch to Abigail’s Party at MTC to Blackie Blackie Brown at Malthouse to Prize Fighter at Northcote Town Hall to Songs for a Weary Throat at Arts Centre Melbourne to The Mission at Arts House to Sleepover Gurlz in a bedroom in Fitzroy to Sneakyville at 45 Downstairs to The Nightingale and the Rose at Theatre Works.

Perhaps the absolute highlight of the year was Angus Cerini’s The Bleeding Tree. After two sell-out seasons in Sydney (at Griffin and STC), I’m so grateful that Arts Centre Melbourne programmed this show. It's a stunning work about family violence and its aftermath. Exquisite writing, extraordinary performances. Bracing, upsetting and poetic.

And to bring things full circle, one of the great things Witness has been doing this year is hosting Live Nights after certain shows for audience members to discuss what they have seen. The Bleeding Tree was one of their Live Night events. As a critic, sometimes I need to sit with a show for a while to know what to say. I’m so glad to have had an outlet to discuss this show right after I saw it, because it was so good and we all had so much to discuss. I think I loved the show more after the discussion, even though there were definitely elements that needed examination – and hearing other people’s points of view had me considering things I hadn’t thought about. Great show, great post-show discussion.

Looking forward to in 2019

I’m looking forward to what Bryce Ives does at Theatre Works. I’m looking forward to hearing more about La Mama rising from the ashes of its devastating fire this year. I’m excited for lots of things the Malthouse are doing like Wake in Fright and Solaris and Australian Realness. And I’m glad Little Ones’s Merciless Gods is returning  at Arts Centre Melbourne.

SM: I always like Keith's reviews and have loved reading his writing for Witness this year. He brings a playwright's perspective to his criticism and isn't afraid to let his writing be a work of art in itself.

Andrea McCannon
Actor

Andrea McCannon. Photo by Alex Vaughan

Favourite moments in 2018
I think my favourite show has been The Bachelor S17 E5, presented by La Mama at the Brunswick Mechanics Insitute. It was a hilarious and unexpectedly moving verbatim rendition of an episode of the USA version of the reality TV show The Bachelor with a really interesting cast. It took something of no substance and made it say so much. My favourite moment was when the ditched drag queen de-frocked and unpacked their suitcase full of rose petals. It was beautiful and heartbreaking. I loved it.

I also want to say that the resilience of the La Mama team and the strength of their community has been totally inspiring this year.

Looking forward to in 2019
Lightning Jar Theatre are mounting Mr Burns: A Post Electric Play at 45 Downstairs in February and I’m so excited for this production. Their previous two shows, Stupid Fucking Bird and Venus in Furs, were brilliantly performed and they’ve assembled a wonderful cast for this show. It’s such a fantastic script – funny and affecting and so bloody clever. I can’t wait to see what they do with it.

SM: I've seen Andrea in more shows than I've written about seeing her in. This year, I saw her in the last performance of Just A Boy Standing in Front of a Girl  by 15 Minutes from Anywhere (another one of my favourite indie companies). Hopefully this is a show that will also get a return season, with the same cast.

2017
2016
2014
2013
2012

MELBOURNE FESTIVAL: Song For A Weary Throat

MELBOURNE FESTIVAL 2018
Song For A Weary Throat
Rawcus
Presented with Arts Centre Melbourne
13 October 2018
Fairfax Studio, Arts Centre Melbourne
to 14 October
www.festival.melbourne
rawcus.org.au

"Song For a Weary Throat". Rawcus

Rawcus Theatre’s Song For A Weary Throat was missed by too many of us last year and it's wonderful to have indie theatre like this brought back for us by Arts Centre Melbourne and Melbourne Festival. Too many amazing indie shows are never seen again after short runs.

People gather in what looks like the post-apocalyptic remains of a country-town community hall that was once set up for a dance (design, Emily Barrie; lighting, Richard Vabre). The chairs are breaking and the room is filled with dust and crunchy dead leaves, but everyone still comes. It’s what people do.

There’s noise (sound designer Jethro Woodward) but rarely voices, except for the remarkable Invenio Singers (Gian Slater, Josh Kyle and Louisa Rankin). The three voices create a live soundtrack that  feels like pure emotion. Like the weary throats that can’t speak anymore because no one listened, their singing isn’t what we expect from songs of joy or despair, but are sounds that are trying anything to be heard again.

It’s never clear – and doesn’t matter – when or where we are; what matters is that this group of people are together after a traumatic even. Some don’t want to be there, some don’t know what to do and some keep hoping because, even if no one will dance with you, when people are together, there’s always a way forward and dancing alone isn’t so bad.

Led by artistic director Kate Sulan, Song For A Weary Throat was developed and performed by an ensemble of 15 performers with and without disabilities.  Its exploration of trauma is personal without ever being specific, which makes it easy to put our experiences onto the stage and to feel the effects of trauma and to ultimately find hope and joy among the chaos.

Rawcas were formed in 2001 and continue to be supported by the Port Phillip Council – never forget how much local councils fund and support the creation of art.

Review: Nassim

Nassim 
Arts Centre Melbourne
23 January 2018
Fairfax Studio
to 28 January
artscentremelbourne.com.au

Nassim Soleimanpour

 روزی روزگاری

Nassim Soleimanpour's new work Nassim opened at the Edinburgh Festival last year and we are so lucky to have it at Arts Centre Melbourne this week. He wrote White Rabbit Red Rabbit , which is all anyone who has seen Rabbit needs to know.

Thirty-seven-year-old Soleimanpour is from Iran. He now lives in Berlin and is best known for his 2010 White Rabbit Red Rabbit. A performer only performs it once. They get the script when they walk onto the stage in front of the audience. He wrote it in Iran and posted it to the world because he couldn't get a passport. For once, the world – at least our theatre world – listened and it's been translated from Farsi into 25 languages and been performed all over the place by famously known, respected and/or loved performers. The author finally saw a production in 2013, in Brisbane.

As the Rabbit experience is so dependent on performer and audience discovering the text at the same time, writing anything about it is almost unfair.

Nassim is more developed than Rabbit but it is similar in that the performer gets the script when they walk onto the stage. And saying anything about it is almost unfair.

But it's wonderful. I'm smiling as I think about it.

It's about family and home and language and story and how little it takes to feel connected and dismiss any notions of difference.

And never think that it's gimmick theatre. The structure is remarkable and the emotion is real.

On opening night, performer Alison Bell was as nervous as is expected, and much of the experience is being with the performer as they become comfortable with the audience – who also relax and realise that they are part of the experience and not faceless watchers in the dark. As the performer begins to enjoy the experience of having no idea of what's about to happen, the audience switch from being so grateful that they are not on stage to, maybe, wishing that they were.

Especially as there is another person making the performance: Nassim Soleimanpour.

You've missed Alison Bell and Benjamin Law, but Charlie Pickering, Nakkiah Lui, Catherine McClements and Denise Scott are on for the rest of the week.

This is theatre that connects and celebrates and a mini community is formed from each performance; it's our shared experience with the performer and playwright. I know that sometime this year I will meet a stranger who was there, and we will become friends as we discover we were both saw this performance and begin to talk about it.

Review: How to be a Middle Aged Woman

MICF
Jenny Eclair
How to be Middle Aged Woman (Without Going Insane)
31 March 2017
Arts Centre Melbourne, Fairfax Studio
to 16 April
comedyfestival.com.au

Jenny Eclair

 My review is on The Age/SMH.

What Melbourne loved in 2016, part 15

All that's left is me. Tomorrow I'll publish my 2016 list of the shows I loved, but it's time for some moments.

This year marked 10 years of me reviewing. I had a month off to breathe.

I only saw 165 (or 20+ more if I count events with multiple performances) shows this year. There were also less reviews but a lot more tweets. And I was teaching arts journalism; meeting and reading young writers who want to write about the arts is as good as it gets. It's been a shitty year for arts writers, but there are plenty of voices who are going to be there and demand that they are heard. And I love teaching.

Selfie. Not giving a single fuck in Ubud in November.

Plus a special thanks to Faster Pussycat Productions for the new logo.

SM's favourite moments in Melbourne theatre in 2016: Having this series welcomed back after a year off was awesome. Getting the emails and messages and talking to people about it IRL reminded me that we are a strong and active community.

Like so many others, I was a bit over it this year: funding cuts, Fairfax cuts, creative and writing tertiary courses being branded "lifestyle choices", far too many people still excluded from having a voice on main stages, boring conservative mainstage programs, and criticism of that dullness being ignored. The arguments I began to have in the 1980s are still happening; it's fucking depressing.

Then in the last couple of weeks I saw:

• Blaque Showgirls at Malthouse. An Indigenous fuck you to every condescending, well-meaning and earnest statement about acceptance and respect. Laughed until I cried.
• Burning Doors by Belarus Free Theatre at Arts Centre Melbourne. Some people are using theatre to save lives and change their world. Some people risk so much more than a couple of dull hours to go to the theatre.
• Hot Brown Honey at Arts Centre Melbourne. Standing screaming ovation for rejecting everything that denies women and especially women of colour a voice. 
• Briefs at Arts Centre Melbourne. The other side of the Hot Brown Honey coin. What this show said about gender and masculinity needs to be bottled and drunk by everyone who tells someone to "man up".

Maybe there's a lot of hope for our main stages in 2017.

And throw in Moira Finucane telling a room of cheering people that "Art does change culture and it does change lives", at a fundraiser where Finucane and Smith raised enough money to create the kind of art that does change lives.

Going to Coranderrk to see Coranderrk and hearing the voices that spoke there 135 years ago.

Being totally relaxed lying in bath in the Embiggen Books window for Between Two Lines at Melbourne Fringe (Anna Nalpantidis with Elizabeth Brennan).

Coranderrk at Coranderrk

Between Two  Lines

iOTA singing "Life on Mars" at the Melbourne Festival Bowie concert.

Watching children cut Cameron Woodhead's hair at Haircuts by Children at Melbourne Festival.

Cameron Woodhead at Haircuts by Kids

Having no idea what was funny at Two Dogs at the Melbourne Festival.

The moment when Joshua Ladgrove decided that Neal Portenza couldn't do his scripted show when there were only nine people in the audience and The Age reviewer was in the front row. 

Watching a stage of naked women dancing in Nic Green's Trilogy at Arts House.

The Harry Potter and the Cursed Child reading that wasn't a reading because it was just a group of friends hanging out and reading out loud. (Thanks Ben McKenzie.)

Getting a bag of "FUCK YOU" candy hearts at Dion in the Melbourne Fringe.

Dion

The best way to read a play

The whole audience breathing in together when the black world became white, and again when the white world dropped to reveal Hamer Hall in Back to Back's Lady Eats Apple at Melbourne Festival.

Dancing in an industrial fridge in a hotel dressing gown as Otto and Astrid sang "Ich Bin Nicht Ein Roboter" at the Finucane and Smith Christmas Cocktail party.

Otto and Astrid

Robbing a bank with Richard Watts and Fleur Kilpatrick at Pop up Playground's Small Time Criminals.

Fleur Kilpatrick, me, Kevin Turner, Richard Watts at Small Time Criminals

Running late to see Pound It, walking down the stairs and wondering who that amazing voice could be coming out of – then seeing Bridget Everett and knowing that I was going to love every second of her show.

Every tweet from Candy Bowers.

Hanging out in Ai Weiwei's cat room for kids at the National Gallery of Victoria at 6.30 am during White Night.

Ai Weiwei's cats at NGV

What SM is looking forward to in 2017: Whatever it brings, everything else that everyone else has said, and The Book of Mormon.

part 1
part 2
part 3
part 4
part 5
part 6
part 7
part 8
part 9
part 10
part 11
part 12
part 13
part 14
2014
2013
2012

Review: Godspell

Godspell
Arts Centre Melbourne, Bold Jack International, Room 8 Productions and The Australian Shakespeare Company 
Fairfax Studio, Arts Centre Melbourne
artscentremelbourne.com.au
to 6 November

Godspell. Photo by Mark Gambino

My review is at The Age/SMH.

MICF for Kids: Sunny Ray and The Magnificent Moon

Sunny Ray and The Magnificent Moon

Arena Theatre and Salvador Dinosaur 

7 April 2016

The Famous Spiegeltent, Arts Centre Melbourne

10 April 2016
comedyfestival.com.au

Sunny Ray and The Magnificent Moon 

Don’t forget that there’s plenty of brilliant comedy for kids at MICF.

From Arena Theatre and Claire Bartholomew and Daniel Tobias (who also created the glorious rock duo Die Roten Punkte), Sunny Ray and The Magnificent Moon is pure joy for the under-10s.

In her orange and yellow jumpsuit, sparklie eye shadow and yellow sun visor, Sunny sings “It’s a wonderful day” as she wakes up her the plants and warms up the world. She loves being the sun and loves the beginning and end of each day when she hangs out with her best friend, The Magnificent Moon. In an Elvis-inspired white and silver jumpsuit, the Moon knows how cool it is to sing and party all night with the stars. 

When Sunny decides that it could be fun to stay up late, the Moon welcomes her to the party, but she sleeps in and he isn’t sure how to wake up the world.

With original songs, lots of interactive fun, and extra naughtiness and love, Sunny Ray and the Magnificent Moon light up the Famous Spiegeltent and welcome children and their families to help make this gorgeous story about friendship and how it’s cool to be different.

This was on AussieTheatre.com.