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.

What Melbourne Loved in 2021 (and 2020), part 4

Telia Nevile and Bron Batten were also in the first What Melbourne Loved. I first reviewed Telia in 2006 and Bron in 2008. I first saw Telia perform in 2001 and I would have seen Bron at one of the first Last Tuesday Society shows. I've since seen whatever work of theirs that I can. It's amazing to watch artists develop and find their voices and create such incredible and original work that comes straight from their hearts.

Bron Batten
Theatre maker, producer, performer
Jobkeeper tax expert, excellent hair

Bron Batten. "Waterloo"

What theatre/art/creative experience did you love the most in 2021?I can never just narrow it down to one! So I won’t. I absolutely adored Alisdair Macindoe’s Reference Material at Northcote Town Hall. Sexy, clever, funny, smart, bursting with ideas and self-aware but not (too!) smug. And a dance work. Wonders never cease. Remount please.
 
I saw Michelle Brasier’s Average Bear on Sunday night and it should have won the Best Of at this year’s MICF. Brutally funny and utterly beautifully sad, I ugly laughed/cried the whole way through. Voice of an angel and an absolute quadruple threat.
 
I was lucky enough to make it up to Darwin to perform at the festival and as a result finally saw Selina Jenkins’s Boobs. And it was just as wonderful as everyone had constantly said it was. She’s a master of the raised eyebrow and managed to turn the audience on a dime, whilst holding them carefully in the palm of her hand. Plus, great songs and timeless nipple-centric material.
 
I was also fortunate to see Alice Sing, the great choir from Alice Springs, kill it at their Darwin Fest show, Red Desert, Endless Sky, under the tireless guidance of their super-talented choir master Edward Gould. Beautiful original compositions and arrangements and 50 people singing together who were mic-ed up properly. Unheard of in a lockdown world and completely goosebumps/tear inducing. Magical. Ed and I used to run the OG choir together in Melbourne under the various guises of Choir Straits, Your Love is Lifting Me Choir and This Sex is on Choir. Alice Sings is much, much, much better.
 
Also, while I’m here, massive shout out to the Darwin Festival team for getting through a mid-festival lockdown, re-scheduling shows on the fly and being massive babe legends throughout. Oh and honourable mention to Lou Wall’s That One Time I Joined The Illuminati. Told you I wouldn’t be able to pick just one.
 
What surprised you about finding new ways to make art in locked-down worlds?
Christopher Green’s No Show for The Yard Theatre in London utilised its Zoom audience in clever ways, with audience participation involving home-based tasks, assigned character quests, spotify dj-ing and group karaoke. It was totally worth staying up until 4am to watch it during a timeless lockdown netherworld.
 
I also experienced several shows during Melbourne Fringe 2020 that involved packages being delivered to your house – and the utter delight in receiving personally addressed mail which is not electricity bills never, ever, ever wears out.
 
What did you do to stay connected to your arts community?
I spent a lot of time in 2020 working as one of the many admin’s on the Facebook group Australian Arts Amidst COVID-19, founded by Perth artist Alex Desebrock. In the aftermath of the March 2020 shutdowns AAAC19 provided a focus, gathering point and community contact for many members of the arts ecology throughout endless lockdowns. We tried to help people with the administration involved in seeking government assistance and financial help, relief grants and Centrelink etc. And I was constantly astounded by the generosity, kindness, knowledge and support people offered each other throughout that utterly terrifying time. Though I NEVER thought I’d now know this much about the taxation laws surrounding JobKeeper.

What are you looking forward to in 2022?
TOURING! (Hopefully!)

SM: In what world could Bron and I ever have imagined that my favourite memory of her would be her FB group reminders to put in Jobkeeper details? It's ridiculous, right!? I was also thrilled that she got to Darwin with Waterloo, which I've only seen once (!) and have no idea what its turned into since its first run. Hopefully we will see it in Melbourne again.

 

Telia Nevile
Poet, performer, photographer
Where punk and delightful collide

Telia Nevile

What theatre/art/creative experience did you love the most 2021 (or 2020)?
I loved how the arts (of all types) became more accessible, opening up to people who can’t leave their homes, navigate physical venues, make it into the city, or be in crowds. Being able to watch arts from all over the world was also incredible; it felt a little like being a kid in a candy-store, being free to curate my own festival rather than wait for someone else to do it for me. On top of this, the arts community has always been generous with their time and their skills, but it hit new heights with workshops and classes and online dance parties popping up all over the place. It’s crazy to me that the arts aren’t always recognised as the thing that brings us together and makes us better because they do, and for all of the many, and long, lockdowns, they did. I was just so proud to be part of such a wonderful community.
 
What surprised you about finding new ways to make art in locked-down worlds?
It’s a totally different mindset, and once I got my head around it, it surprised me that the show I wrote will have two completely different lives and two ways of expressing itself – the filmed version and the live version. It’s no longer enough to just film a live performance and say that it’s available digitally – it’s a completely independent version of the show that needs to be reimagined and made in its own way. I can’t wait to perform Little Monster live and feel how the show shifts and changes.
 
What did you do to stay connected to your arts community?
As lame as it sounds, I signal-boosted every post I saw of people making stuff, or achieving things, or just sharing small things to be happy about, because now, more than ever, we need to be as supportive as we have the spoons to be. I messaged people I usually just run into in foyers, to tell them that I’d read their posts and felt the same, or seen their digital works and gotten joy from them, or that what they were doing was amazing (because it is). Social media is usually quite alien to me, but during the lockdowns, it felt more like the community noticeboard I always wanted it to be.
 
What are you looking forward to in 2022?
Seeing lots of live performance with an increased focus on accessibility. Seeing live shows and then seeing their digital versions to enjoy the different interpretations and suck as much marrow from the bones as possible. Hopefully touring again to NZ, and then maybe in 2023 to Canada again. Watching the vigour return to community members who were drained by the big C, when they get the chance to do what they love again.

SM: Telia's Little Monster (the filmed version) was glorious and it so won The Best in Festival at Melbourne Fringe. I watched it twice in one day. Watching it felt like she was talking directly to me – and so few shows managed that when they did the big pivot. I am booked in for the opening night of her live version. She also accidentally introduced me to the acidentally-vegan yum of Hob Nobs.
 

What Melbourne Loved in 2021 (and 2020), part 1

Welcome back. 

This time we are back. We have to be back. We got though. We're still a bit wobbly, but we're still here.

I've asked some of the What Melbourne Loved favourite and long-running contributors to tell us what they've been up to and what they've been enjoying in the last couple of years.

2019
2018
2017
2016
2014
2013
2012

Penelope Bartlau
Artistic Director: Barking Spider Visual Theatre
Bohemian who will create art out of air if she has to

Penelope Bartlau. Photo by Jason Lehane

What theatre/art/creative experience did you love the most 2021 (or 2020)?
I had a fantastic time with the Melbourne Fringe. A work that stood out was Strange Kit’s HOLESP@CE. It was an Alice-in-Wonderland never-ending slide into the internet. The work was deliciously riddled with virtual non-sequiturs, uncanny and clever silly notions and surprises, and laugh-out-loud moments. I had a fantastic time with this work, by myself, in lockdown.

What surprised you about finding new ways to make art in locked-down worlds?
I reinvented my animistic artistic tendencies, which are normally reserved for puppetry, to create geo-located sound works: The Object Monologues. This is a project whereby public landmarks reveal their innermost thoughts – loves, losses, passions and idiosyncrasies. The project is housed in an app, Echoes, free for anyone and everyone to download, and unrestricted by location. I undertook public engagement in the development of the work via social media – which really worked. 

Also, I took the opportunity to create a work with my offspring, artist Klari Agar. We cooked up a plan and Postcards from the North was born. This  also had a high degree of public engagement via social media. For both projects, I used social media as a method for public co-creation during lockdown. Postcards from the North was delivered online and as a short-print run of 6 printed postcards. The printed version was mailed to people as a pack, and. from feedback, the postcards found their way to Europe, America and Japan! (They travelled way more than we all did…)

What did you do to stay connected to your arts community?
Ummmmm…. (Insert cricket sound here)

What are you looking forward to in 2022?
Like everyone, all the projects have bounced into next year – so it’s chaotic until mid-May. Hopefully, fingers and everything crossed, we (Jason Lehane and me) are going to Ireland to take up our Cill
Rialaig arts residency, which was cancelled this year. We have bought the plane tickets and are hoping like fuck we can go….

What are we doing there? A project called Feathers and Earth, which is a 3-year investigation into the geographic features and bird life of three diverse sites. The sites are connected by an abundance of significant birdlife and unique geographic terrain. Cundare North (regional Victoria) 2021, South West Ireland, and at Chateau d'Orquevaux in north-eastern France in 2023. Concerned with degradation of our natural world, this project explores cycles of decay, destruction and rebirth (birds) while looking at what lasts beyond the annihilation of climate-change (earth).

SM: Respecting the true nature of 2020-21, I begin with someone whose art I haven't seen since 2019.  This has been first time I haven't seen one of Penelope's works in years. I'm downloading The Object Monologues as I write. We sat next to each other at a show early in the year, so at least we've seen each other!

Robert Reid
Playwright, director, critic, broadcaster
Media ain't dead; he's making it in his living room

Rob Reid

What theatre/art/creative experience did you love the most 2021 (or 2020)?
Obviously a LOT of the theatre I watched this year was online. For me, the best thing to have come out of these pandemic years has been the widespread uptake of digital platforms for theatre. Getting to see work from around the country and not just waiting and hoping it might tour to Melbourne has been amazing. I really really really hope that continues in the new world. I loved Rovers by Katherine Lyall-Watson with Barbara Lowing and Roxanne McDonald presented online by Riverside Theatres and filmed live in Queensland at Redland Performing Arts Centre. Terrific story telling, two terrific actors and a great connection with the audience. 

I also totally loved That One Time I Joined the Illuminati by Lou Wall at Melbourne Fringe, because I'm a lapsed conspiracy nerd and I missed it at MICF. 

As for things i saw in an actual theatre, I was completely absorbed in Jayde Kirchert's Mara Korper at Theatre Works presented by Citizen Theatre. (I can't believe that was MAY this year.) And, special mention has got to go to Malthouse's Because the Night. Not that I loved it... I liked a lot of it even though it had its flaws, but seeing an immersive theatre work on that sheer scale was pretty amazing. 

What did you do to stay connected to your arts community?
Staying connected to the Arts Community during all this of course hasn't been easy, but starting Television is Furniture and being able to interview artists about their work, review that work and also just talk about Australian Theatre, feels like it was a good way do stay in touch with everybody.

What are you looking forward to in 2022?
It's weird to think about what I'm looking forward to for 2022. I'm finding I'm pretty gunshy about getting invested in coming shows. I know Dan said there'll never be another lockdown, but I don't know... There's plenty of variants and unvaccinated populations out there for them to mutate in. Also, now this is a tool governments have in their kit to respond to disasters with, what's to say the next pandemic, or the next poison-ash filled summer skies, or the next whatever isn't going to lead to more show cancellations and theatres sitting dark. That said, I CAN'T WAIT for Virginia Gay's Cyrano.

SM: Rob pretends to be a true cynic, but he's really one of the most persistent and positive people in our community. The arts world isn't a fair place. When I first saw one of Rob's plays back in 2001, I thought that by 2022, I'd be sick of seeing a new Rob Reid every year on our main stages. This year Witness Performance, the bench-mark criticism site he created with Alison Croggon, went to the archives. So Rob created his own YouTube channel and made Television is Furniture. Already there are more interviews, reviews and content there than on or in most sites or publication. Remember that no one pays indie media, so please keep supporting it with clicks and reads and love.

MICF: Chi Nguyen, LOTUS

MELBOURNE INDEPENDENT CELEBRATORY FEMINIST
Chi Nguyen
LOTUS
26–28 March 2020
SIGNAL
comedyfestival.com.au

Chi Nguyen

I haven't seen Chi perform yet, but she talked about making good Vietnamese iced coffee in her media email – and that was enough to get my attention. And young female voices taking over the festival...

If you could see anyone (possible or impossible) in your audience, who would it be?
Ali Wong! 100%

What is one of your favourite comedy festival memories?
Coming to watch Comedy Zone Asia and someone thought I was there to do a set, haha.

Who is one (or three)of your favourite Melbourne Indie Celebratory Feminists?
The comedy queens of my heart are Diana Nguyen, Lou Wall and Margot Tanjutco.

What three shows are you not going miss this comedy festival?
Lou Wall Lousical the Musical
Annie Louey Annie Louey's Big Break
Diana Nguyen Chasing Keanu Reeves

GIVEAWAY COMPETITION

one double pass 

Chi Nguyen: LOTUS
28 March
7.00pm
SIGNAL

EMAIL with CHI NGUYEN COMPETITION in the subject
Closes on 24 March 2020

What Melbourne loved in 2019, part 11

My best of 2019 will be published on Monday.

Melbourne's most loved shows of 2019 are Daddy, Unwoman, Barbara and The Camp Dogs and Grand Finale.  

What an amazing selection! Two Melbourne indie shows, one Sydney/Melbourne company co-production show and one international festival production. (I haven't seen Daddy yet, but will do what I can to see it during Midsumma.)

Thank you so much to everyone who's been a part of the series this year and since 2012: I've loved doing it and love that so much theatre and so many artists can be celebrated and supported in ways that don't care about star ratings.

So let's finish with someone who has been here every year and whose ongoing support of independent arts and arts writing in Melbourne is unsurpassed: Richard Watts. (And me.)

Richard Watts
Performing Arts Editor at Arts Hub, presenter Smart Arts at RRR, bloody legend

Richard Watts at the Cliffs of Moher

As a result of taking long service leave from my day job at ArtsHub in August–September, I didn’t see as many shows as usual this year – I even missed the entire Melbourne Fringe for the first time in over 20 years, due to spending most of September holidaying in Ireland. I did see some great shows at the Dublin Fringe and Dublin Theatre Festival, but that’s a whole other entry

My many Melbourne highlights (not including the many shows I also saw interstate) included:

Barbara and the Camp Dogs. Co-written by and starring Ursula Yovich, this raw, electrifying, vital piece of theatre at Malthouse was skillfully directed by Leticia Caceres. One moment you were roaring with laughter, the next sobbing as an emotional gut-punch caught you unaware. Part sweaty pub rock, part theatre, and always thrilling.

Cock. Directed by Beng Oh at fortyfivedownstairs, this indie production featured the year’s most sensual sex scene – in which the actors kept their clothes on the whole time.

Mr Burns: A post-Electric Play. A triumph of independent theatre directed by John Kachoyan for Lighting Jar Theatre. Great performances, exquisite lighting by Richard Vabre, and Sophie Woodward’s sets and costumes were an absolute triumph.

Harry Potter and Cursed Child Parts One and Two. I went in cynical, I came out awed. Stunning stagecraft and some truly remarkable coups de théâtre which had the audience gasping – myself included. Yes, tickets are prohibitively expensive, but it really is worth it – and there’s always the Friday Forty lottery!

33 Variations. My god, wasn’t Ellen Burstyn amazing?

A View from the Bridge. Tension so tight you could hear the whole audience holding its breath, superb direction by Iain Sinclair, and judiciously minimal staging thanks to Christina Smith’s set and Niklas Pajanti’s lighting. Yes, there was a clear debt to Ivo van Hove's Spartan 2014 production, but instead of a stark white stage, here we got dark, brooding, electrifying minimalism. If Zoe Terakes and Steve Bastoni don’t get Green Room nominations for their performances in this production I’ll eat my hat.

Giantess. Cassie Workman’s imaginative, incisive and moving show at this year’s MICF was a thing of rare beauty: wryly funny, skilfully constructed and performed, and occasionally heartbreaking. So good I saw it twice.

The Aspie Hour. This clever cabaret about neurodiversity and musical theatre was another MICF highlight. If you missed it, it’s been programmed in Sydney Festival in January, should you fancy a trip north.

Magma. Also at MICF, Andy Matthews and Alasdair Tremblay-Birchall’s offbeat, intelligent and hilarious investment seminar was without doubt the funniest show I saw all year. I literally roared with laughter.

Neal Portenza is Josh Ladgrove. Bilge pumps! Bilge pumps! Bilge pumps!

Wake In Fright. My god, wasn’t Zahra Newman amazing?

Modern Maori Quartet. Initially this cabaret at Arts Centre Melbourne struck me as a trifle too slick for its own good, but about 15 minutes in it all clicked into place for me, and I was enthralled and delighted and crying and applauding rapturously.

Between Tiny Cities. Contemporary dance that’s inventive, technically adept, passionate and accessible. I love the fact that it was programmed as part of Arts Centre Melbourne’s family program – watching an enthralled circle of kids watching such virtuosic b-boying was an utter delight.

Come From Away. If you don’t like musical theatre ,then go see this show. If you love musical theatre go see this show. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if Gander in Newfoundland receives an immediate increase in visiting Melburnians as a result of this life-affirming, heart-warming production.

Overture. Comedy in dance? Jo Lloyd makes it work beautifully. I’m so glad that Jonathan Holloway programmed a return season of this work for his final Melbourne International Arts Festival.

High Performance Packing Tape. Thrilling contemporary performance at the Meat Market as part of MICF in which Phil Downing’s sound design played a critical part. Never has watching a balloon inflate been so anxiety-inducing.

Colossus. Choreographed by Stephanie Lake and created for the 2018 Melbourne Fringe, Colossus was remounted for MIAF, and what a delight it was. Featuring some 50 dancers on the small Fairfax Studio stage at Arts Centre Melbourne, this exquisite work explores everything from subsumed individuality and the frightening power of the mob to the sound of the body in motion – hissing breath, snapped fingers, pounding feet. Athletic and multi-sensory, courageous and profound, it can soon be seen at Sydney Festival in January and Perth Festival in February – don’t miss it.


Looking forward to in 2020.
So much! Joel Bray’s Daddy, Selina Jenkins’s Boobs, Campion Decent’s The Campaign and You & I by Casus Circus at Midsumma; Kim Ho’s The Great Australian Play at Theatre Works; Grey Arias, the long overdue mainstage season of Patricia Cornelius’s Do Not Go Gentle... , and, especially, Loaded at  Malthouse; Benjamin Law’s Torch the Place, Dan Giovannoni’s Slap. Bang. Kiss., Fun Home and, especially, Andrea James’s bio-play about Evonne Goolagong, Sunshine Super Girl at the MTC; À Ố Làng Phối, Metal and Black Ties at Asia TOPA – and so much more. Most of all, I’m looking forward to seeing our beloved La Mama rising from the ashes as construction of the restored and future-proofed theatre gets underway.

SM: Richard is the hardest working arts journalist that I know. He sees as much as he possibly can, writes about the issues that no other publications write about, is the chair of the La Mama board, and has been on RRR on Thursday mornings for Smart Arts for FIFTEEN YEARS – as a volunteer.

How cool would it be if for his every show of 2020, a different delicious cake, a strong morning coffee and a cold post-show cider (he doesn't like beer) were waiting for him at the station. This isn't a joke.


Anne-Marie Peard
Arts writer

Anne-Marie Peard at Lakes Entrance

Favouirte moments of 2019
Lou Wall as Satan in Oh No! Satan Stole My Pineal Gland! at Melbourne Fringe.

Joshua Ladgrove as Satan in The many names of Bilge Pumps at MICF and Melbourne Fringe and, especially, dealing with the crappest microphone ever at the final fundraising performance in Decemeber.

Gender Euphoria with Mama Alto and the most incredible casts at Midsumma and MIAF. If the absolute joy generated by this show could be shared, the world would be a much better place,

Harry Potter and The Cursed Child: The relief and complete toe-tingling joy at the first cape swish and knowing that it was going to be as good as I imagined it could be. It was better. One day, I'll win the lottery and get to see it again.

The now-gone gun in Bron Battern's Waterloo and watching audience members make a choice that would swear they would never make.

Nikki Viveca's bee dance in Wasp Movie at Melbourne Fringe.

Break up by New Zealand's Binge Culture at Melbourne Fringe. This year, I watched more of this five-hour impro show than I did last year, and want to sit through all of it one year.

Running workshops with indie artists and seeing them get media coverage as a result. 

Seeing students get published.

What I'm looking forward to in 2020
Asia TOPA,  Po Po Mo Co's Summer of the 17th Doll, and seeing all those first shows that introduce new artists to the Melbourne arts community.

But what I'm most looking forward to is that significant companies, funded organisations and commercial producers SUPPORT INDEPENDENT MEDIA.

There are many amazing independent critical voices out there and so many more emerging voices wanting to be heard and wanting to be advocates and supporters of the arts in Melbourne.

But these voices are rarely supported by the companies and organisations that have the resources to offer support. 

The best funded and supported companies in our town don't support independent voices, including  online sites, podcasts, radio shows, student publications and social media wonders. 

Writers aren't invited to shows, and if they do see work, their considered commentary isn't shared. 

I know where I'm welcome when I write for mastheads and not welcome otherwise.

There is lots of love about these companies in indie writing; none of which is shared by the companies with their audience. All the positive and supportive things said about any company with funding in this series hasn't been shared, liked or, possibly, even read by companies. 

None. 

I reckon that subscribers, sponsors and the artists would love to know that their work was among some people's favourite moments of the year.

These companies are also missing the opportunity to have commentary from people who see so many shows that they can write about the big picture over many years. There isn't room for this type of reflection in 300-worder in a masthead. They miss the voices of people who were  there when some of the biggest names on our stages were performing in tiny venues. These writers were the early support and encouragement and can write about work with an understanding and a history that can't be summed up in a star rating.

They miss out on being part of the history and the archive that indie coverage offers.

They miss out on writing that is more than a quoted word or phrase. 

By focusing on the potential short-term benefit of a review, they miss out on the long-term gains.

And what about all the new writers? Writers need to see work and need to write and be read. If they aren't welcome at shows, what does this say about your company?

If all you want is stars and adjectives, here:

****

Quote away.

I know how important indie voices are to artists; they talk to me and sometimes those messages and conversations are enough to keep writing.

So, here's to a year where every funded company invites EVERY indie voice, says yes to every student and emerging artist who would like to see shows, reads what they say and shares those voices.

SM: A-M spends a lot of her year convincing me to keep doing this. She reads the emails and messages. She buys me dumplings and convinces me to see another show each night during a festival.

But it's time to say goodbye.  

I look forward to passing on the torch, teaching and mentoring new voices and putting my hand up as a date to shows.