What Melbourne Loved in 2021 (and 2020), part 3

Daniel Lammin and Ash Flanders are total SM favourites and have told us what they love since it began. Today one asks:" What’s the fucking point?". The other asks: "Can chronic narcissists be grateful?". Both answer beautifully. 

Ash Flanders
40

Ash Flanders
(Easier than the Zoom button that makes you look pretty.)

What theatre/art/creative experience did you love the most 2021 (or 2020)?
Oh, Lord, what is time? I can’t remember this morning let alone the year. I really enjoyed seeing Fuck Fabulous at Arts Centre Melbourne. I’m a major fangurl of Sarah Ward so it was a thrill to come out of lockdown and see the beautiful, trashy, super-smart, incredibly entertaining, political world she created. But it was the offstage world that stuck with me. The night I attended had such a weird mix of an audience and it felt like none of us knew how to even be in a theatre. But I’ve never felt a crowd so connected to each other as when a performer peed in a glass and held it out to the audience. As soon as one person yelled out DRINK IT – in my mind, a freaked-out guy in a suit who couldn’t believe the words had leapt out of his mouth – we all joined in. We were one puerile collective mind. You’ve never felt the collapse of gatekeeping more than hearing 200+ people in the arts centre chanting for someone to drink their own piss. It was infantile and joyous and when the performer skulled the whole thing it was like Jesus with the loaves and fishes: one jar of piss quenched all our thirst.

Selfishly, I have also loved being able to present SS Metaphor at Malthouse. I’ve always appreciated the production side of things but seeing a whole team of people come together to help execute this thing I wrote was very, very moving. Which begs a larger question – can chronic narcissists be grateful? Yes, yes we can.

What surprised you about finding new ways to make art in locked-down worlds?
I went long on the last question so I’ll just say that I never knew I could write a play from my own wardrobe, but I sure can! I wasn’t surprised that as artists we all found ways to continue our work and problem-solve, but, sadly, I also wasn’t surprised by the lack of government support. Personally, I was most surprised to learn that I really can’t live without writing. And that at 40 I’m still happy to rehearse out of Stephen Nicolazzo’s apartment and use a TV remote as a mic.

What did you do to stay connected to your arts community?
Almost everyone I’m friends with is part of the arts community so a lot of it was just checking in and hanging out whenever we could, either virtually or on long walks. Those long walks were actually my favorite thing about lockdown. Conversation flows so well on a walk, especially if it’s with Richard Higgins and you have a whole graveyard to explore. I also have to say I was lucky enough to get two shows up this year which sounds amazing until you realise Ash Flanders is Nothing only ran for two nights and SS Metaphor could still be sunk by killer bees, another cheeky earthquake, or, I dunno, an asteroid?

What are you looking forward to in 2022?
(Hopefully) Finally getting to do a full season of my show End Of. at Griffin Theatre in Sydney. It might even mean I get to go on a plane, see some friends I haven’t seen in two years and tell a whole new city about my favourite monster, Heather Flanders. I’m also looking forward to getting to see more theatre, doing a little mentoring and hopefully writing more stuff. I think lockdown has really taught me to appreciate any chance I get to do this theatre stuff, so it’s all gravy, baby (ewwww).

SM: My favourite memory of Heather Flanders was 2020 opening night of End Of. It was the day before the Comedy Festival cancelled. A day when we didn't know if theatre kissies would kill us. Heather came in for a hug and, "Well, we've gotta die from something." I so hope Sydney gets to see End Of. END OF.

I've seen less than usual of Ash this year (he didn't ask me to go for a long walk in a graveyard with Richard Higgins), but I went to a preview of SS Metaphor last night the Malthouse. As it's was a preview, it will be different by opening night. But, think "Carry On The Poseidon Adventure" with queer heroes and Ash playing the straight captain in a moustache, and a wannabe who thinks they can save the never-ending cruise with entertainment – and tap dancing, which is now is etched in my soul. 

Daniel Lammin
Director, writer, Disney fanatic, film critic

Daniel Lammin.

 

What theatre/art/creative experience did you love the most and how did you stay connected?
I didn’t see a lot of live performance this year. I could use the lockdowns as an excuse, but the truth was that I just... didn’t want to. With the precariousness of the world at the moment, I turned to cinema for artistic need and comfort rather than theatre. As much as nothing gives me greater joy than sitting in the dark and watching a piece of live performance burst into life before my eyes, I find the moments beforehand (congregating in the foyer, small talk, those gross bits of networking we inevitably end up doing) almost too difficult to bear, and that was before we were locked in our houses and both my sense of myself as an introvert and my social anxiety increased. In a year when so much was distressing or confronting, I just didn’t have the nerve or the energy to return to the community again in the same capacity. Frankly, I was too scared, as scared as I always have been, but now all the more aware of how anxiety-inducing the world of a theatre foyer can be for me.

Maybe that’s why I had a great time wandering around Because The Night. I didn’t particularly enjoy it as a piece of theatre, but what I loved was the complete anonymity it gave me. I could fully engage with this work, be part of a collective in the act of experiencing it, and no-one had a fucking clue who I was and I didn’t have a fucking clue who they were. I could be present without any sense of anxiety, and allow myself full permission to observe and to play.

That sense of engagement without the terror of the theatre foyer reached its sublime peak for me
with St Martins’s flat-out wonderful online production Us, created by Katrina Cornwall and Morgan
Rose, who are pretty much my favourite theatre makers in Melbourne. It wasn’t an online work made out of necessity, but one that was actually fucking interested in the digital form. We’ve seen far too many artists treat this form as second-rate, but Kat and Morgan and this remarkable group of young people and their parents fully engaged with its possibilities, looked into every nook and cranny for what could be done and made something so alive and generous and moving and communal. I felt more seen by and connected to these performers than most in-person work I’d seen, and they couldn’t even see that I was there. It gave me that giddy feeling I used to get in the old world before Covid of seeing something special – and god I loved it. There was a generosity of spirit, a joy in the act of creating and sharing, all aspects that are indicative of Kat and Morgan’s work together.

The same can be said of their gorgeous Riot Stage work this year, Everyone is Famous, which was another act of theatrical generosity. That one had the extra power of having seen these young people grow as theatre makers through the many years of Riot Stage work, see their ideas sharpen and their voices get louder. There was no separation of us-and-them, no sense of watching young people as if they were animals in a zoo. In that instance, my agony in the foyer beforehand was worth it for the
magic I saw in the theatre itself.

As well as discovering how much of an introvert I really am through the many lockdowns, the other
unnerving discovery I made was this: I didn’t miss theatre. I didn’t miss making it, and I didn’t miss watching it. As the days ticked on, this didn’t change, and I began to wonder whether I actually really wanted to stick with it. It wasn’t just that it didn’t seem a viable option at the moment, it was the realisation that my career, while it had given me so much, had also taken an awful lot from me, and I wasn’t sure it was worth it. And then I stepped into the tumultuous rehearsal room of Bloomshed’s production of Animal Farm, and it all came flooding back – the chaos, the fights, the blood, the sweat, the fear, the tears, the joy, the insanity, that taste in your mouth and that shiver all over your skin when something special happens. I found it again and I was hungry for it, and I realised I wasn’t ready to give it up. Maybe one day I will, and certainly when it happens, it will be on my own terms and I will be fully at peace with it. But not yet.

So if I have to say what creative experience meant the most to me in 2021, it was making a show
that almost no-one got to see. It breaks my heart that we never got to see it through, but, my god,
there was magic happening in those rehearsals; theatre that was true and honest and passionate. And connected, just as works like Us and Everyone is Famous and even the wandering journey of the audience through Because The Night. Because if theatre isn’t about people and connection and being with one another in a time and a space fashioned from magic and dreams and passion, then what’s the fucking point? 

What are you looking forward to in 2022?
And what of 2022? Who knows. It feels foolish to put too much stock in it. I’m very excited for the projects I have lined up, and really hope they don’t end up as unfulfilled dreams like Animal Farm. I can only hope. But maybe it’s time for something new. Something isn’t working, and I don’t know whether that’s to do with me or to do with the industry or maybe a bit of both. There’s a pull at my leg, that restless need for movement. Maybe it’s time to find a new adventure somewhere else. Who knows! But I’m excited to find out.

SM: Animal Farm being cancelled upset me more than losing other shows. It wasn't just because I wouldn't see it; it was everything. It was the goddamedness of going back into lockdown, it was knowing that they'd rehearsed in lockdown and previewed in Geelong. It was ready. It was so the story that was for now. And it was created by some of my favourite makers. Losing this one really really sucked.

Daniel watches film and the two of us must never see films together because our critical reactions to them are so often on opposing ends of the scale. But TV is different. Not long ago, I watched Ted Lasso and saw that Daniel loved it more than I did – and that was saying something. I loved Daniel's love of Ted Lasso.

The Bloomshed. "Animal Farm". We will see it one day.

What Melbourne Loved in 2021 (and 2020), part 2

Today we see hear from long-time Sometimes Melbourne regulars Fluer Kilpatrick and Stephen Nicolazzo.

Stephen Nicolazzo
Little Ones Theatre
Director, teacher, high camp, high stakes

Stephen Nicolazzo riding to work

What theatre/art/creative experience did you love the most 2021 (or 2020)?
I had two incredibly satisfying creative experiences in 2020 and 2021 in spite of Corona (the pandemic, not the 1990s techno singer). The first being our pivot from a live stage adaptation of Christos Tsiolkas’s Loaded into an audio experience. Working so deeply and closely with Dan Giovannoni and Christos on the script over the course of two years, it felt vital to bring the show to life in what ever way we could. Originally we were going to be in the Beckett theatre, then the Malthouse Outdoor Stage and when things took a turn for the worse, I knew we couldn’t let our baby fade into oblivion. So, we decided to explore a new form, focusing on text, audio design and composition; creating the world of Loaded through the audience’s ears. It was an incredible experience. Rehearsing, recording, editing, mixing, composing over the course of 8 weeks of lockdown. Luckily during this time we had the privilege of bubble buddies, so I basically moved in with sound designer Daniel Nixon and we worked into the night developing the sonic experience of this one person show. It was truly liberating. It was like creating a film without pictures. It was a godsend in a time where producing work felt uncertain and more unstable than usual. I learned a lot and felt incredibly proud of the result. It was a true test of creative limits and that felt like a lesson worth learning in a time of darkness.

The second was my first live outing after 6 months locked away – Considerable Sexual License, Joel Bray’s immersive dance theatre work. Getting to be in a space again and not only putting on a show but making one designed to have the entire audience dancing and participating was truly inspiring and emotional. Getting to watch audience after audience dancing around Northcote Town Hall to Donna Summer over the course of May was a true highlight and one I will cherish for as long as I live.

What surprised you about finding new ways to make art in locked-down worlds?
The surprising thing was that it meant you could delve deeper into the world of the work – develop and question from the comfort of your home. I was in development for Looking for Alibrandi, Loaded, Considerable Sexual License and The Monkey’s Mask over the course of these two hellish years and what I found so humbling was that instead of rushing works to the stage they were given space to grow and develop and shine with time and rigorous focus. The thing that was most surprising during this period was the clarity – not being muddied by self doubt or reviews or box office – there was something really special about just being able to make the art again and not listen to the noise around you.

What did you do to stay connected to your arts community?
I kept working. I made work. I taught at Monash and VCA and Collarts and was constantly engaging with young artists and watching them make INCREDIBLE online art. For me, it was my connection to young people that really kept me engaged with the art; their perspectives and experiences of the pandemic gave me a real insight into the pain this pandemic caused emerging dreamers. All I wanted to do as a result was continue to try and inspire them – every day – even if I didn’t want to get out of bed in the morning, or had drank myself to sleep the night before.

What are you looking forward to in 2022?
I am looking forward to unleashing the projects I have been working on over the last two years. I am looking forward to being in live spaces again and making things that elate audiences post-the-never-ending dampening of our spirits. I am looking forward to watching people dance again on stage – and sharing Looking for Alibrandi (Malthouse and Belvoir) with audiences (if Omicron permits…).

SM: In Stephen's first WML in 2012, he talked about creating without "censorship or fear" and he's still exploring that idea.

Listening to Loaded in my flat in lockdown was a highlight of 2020 for me. I think I enjoyed it more as an audio experience than I might have on the stage because it felt like I was there. I also love that it's now around for ever and not forgotten once its season was over. Considerable Sexual License was another absolute joy, even if I didn't dance. The works Joel and Stephen are creating continue to create glittery and so-pretty words that are supported by darkness and honestly. They address identity, belonging and sexuality in ways that let audiences question everything about themselves by being in someone else's story. 

And I can't forget  Body Horror, an online 1970s horror weirdness created with Monash students for Melbourne Fringe. So much blood.

 

Fleur Kilpatrick
Gardner, grower, spoon maker, teacher, dog whisperer, writer
Creative Producer, Riverland Youth Theatre
https://www.facebook.com/riverlandyouththeatre

 

Fleur Kilpatrick at work in early December

What theatre/art/creative experience did you love the most 2021 (or 2020)?
Sensorium Theatre’s Woosh! At the Chaffey Theatre in Renmark, with a class from Riverland Special School. I went to space for an hour, ate space food, touched squish things, made things beep, smelt things and sung songs. Especially special was seeing the teachers relax as they came to understand that this was an experience made for their class and that the performers were ready for anything and everything.  
 
 What surprised you about finding new ways to make art in locked-down worlds?
Everything about this year surprised me. I am still shocked when I look around and see where I am and how I came to be here. I started the year traumatised and depressed after losing my beloved job and community at Monash Centre for Theatre and Performance (and the Centre itself) to Covid cuts. I lived in a caravan without power. I had nightmares about bumping into colleagues I couldn’t deal with seeing again. I dug holes, pulled weeds and planted trees and grasses and little native ground covers, perhaps 1000 of them, on my little block of land. Then suddenly I had a job, a new community, a new part of the country and a Chaos Monster (dog) and everything changed. I now run Riverland Youth Theatre in beautiful Renmark, South Australia, and I work hard every day to serve my community through art, creativity and play.  

I think the big surprise has been just discovering have valuable artistic skills are to communities. Things that seem so simple and obvious to me (‘Oh you want something else for your Halloween Spooktacular events but don’t know what? Give me a few hundred dollars and I’ll get up some great actors – they have clown training! – to be witches and tell fortunes! Easy!’) are so big and strange to others. (‘So what do I say to the actors? Do we have to write a script or rehearse or something?’ ‘No, this is what they do: they create worlds and interact with people in those worlds. It will be really simple and beautiful.’) Some of the best moments and conversations have come about from community members saying ‘we have this problem’ (for instance, struggling families have nothing to look forward to) ‘can you see a way to help?’ And the answer is always ‘yes’ because art does these things so well.

I think for me, it has been about discovering how special and valuable the tools in any artist’s tool belt are in a community context.  
 
What did you do to stay connected to your arts community?
It was hard. It was hard to stay connected, particularly when my friends were all too ‘zoomed out’. And at the start of the year I was so depressed and then things improved for me and they went back into lockdown. But voice recordings helped. It was like having a phone conversation in slow motion and just when friends wanted to engage. A little message – ‘I’m out walking along Bookmark Creek, oh and that jingle is Betty’s collar. I was thinking of you today when I…’ – a few words of love or a summary of a podcast listened to. For my friend Kat, I found ponds or creeks filled with the sound of frogs and bush birds and sent her little bushland soundscape from the Riverland to Melbourne.  
 
What are you looking forward to in 2022?
I have a passion project I am creating with local children and their guardians called Everything I Know About You And Me, in which they attempt to document their entire relationship through stories, drawings, dancers, jokes and songs. I think that having a creative way to bond and celebrate their relationship and the wins will be good for our vulnerable families. I am looking forward to knowing more about my job and community and river. And to being less scared of budgets and grant applications.

Most of all, I want to see my friends again. I want to hold the people I have barely held in two years – the people I grew up with over 15 years in Melbourne. I want to attend Danny and Lucy’s wedding and feel so full of love for them and celebrate, not only their relationship but that the wedding, postponed so many times, is finally here. I want to raise my glass with you all and say ‘Wow. We did it. You are here and I am here. We are still standing.’  

 SM: When Fleur started at RYT, all I could say was what a perfect job it is for her. It's like it was just waiting for her to come along. 

I've loved seeing Fleur's dog Betty become a more good dog every day though pictures and videos, especially when she does things like make Fleur strip off and jump in the river to save Betty from a kangaroo – even though Betty and the roo didn't need any help. I also love that she likes every photo I post up of my cat, Imado. But my favourite Fleur animal-memory of the last year or so was being too-awake in the middle of the night and seeing on Facebook that Fleur was struggling with a spider in her caravan. I know how she feels about our 8-legged friends and all I could do was be a witness and hope that she didn't burn the caravan, her block of land, and the town down. If we ever need to look for a 2020-21 metaphor, it's the hunstman spider on the curtains in the caravan.

 

 

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.

Review: Because The Night

Because the Night
Malthouse
9 April 2021
All of Malthouse
The season is sold out, but keep an eye on the website
www.malthousetheatre.com.au

"Because the Night" Malthouse . Photo by Pia Johnson

Hamlet as a choose-your-own-adventure, escape-room, gallery, anonymous-dress-up, wear-comfy-shoes, live-mystery, 1980’s-trip-to-Tassie, deconstructed-text, maze, open-stranger’s-drawers, op-shop-rummage, carnival-spook-house, re-imaging response to the natural world fighting back as humans kill each other for power? Hells, yes! 

Welcome to Malthouse’s Because the Night. 

The inherent nature of art is a unique experience. Any experience of this immersive experience is impossible to recreate as everyone is encouraged to explore the 30-plus rooms, follow any of the six actors and make their own story. 

"Because the Night" Malthouse . Photo by Pia Johnson

Conceived in lockdown, Because the Night is as much director Matthew Lutton’s response to Covid as a response to Hamlet. With a text by Kamarra Bell-Wykes, Ra Chapman and Lutton, this Elsinore is a 1980’s Tasmanian Kingdom forestry town where ancient giant trees are the impending threat. A basic knowledge of Hamlet is assumed*, but it can be enjoyed without engaging with more than the overarching story. 

Once bags are put in lockers, everyone in the 60-person audience is given a black cloak and papier-mâché mask to become a ghost – non-distracting identical ghosts haunting the space is a brilliant move – and begin in three different rooms. I saw Hamlet (Khisraw Jones-Shukoor; Keegan Joyce is in the other cast) and kick-arse Ophelia (Tahlee Fereday or Artemis Ioannides) in the gym, and so want to see how it begins for Gertrude (Belinda McClory or Jennifer Vuletic), Claudia (Maria Theodorakis or Nicole Nabout), Laertes (Harvey Zielinski or Ras-Samuel Welda’abzgi) and Polonius (Rodney Afif or Syd Brisbane). 

"Because the Night" Malthouse . Photo by Pia Johnson

These six are the only characters and while it’s cool to not be bothered by the outside commentary from the rest of the castle, another way to dive into this story is to be Rosencranz, Horatio or dead King Hamlet and find your scenes. If you miss THE soliloquy, I can’t imagine anyone stopping you from having a go yourself (quietly) when you find Yorick’s skull. 

If you really miss the text, it’s all in the design. Dale Ferguson (architecture), Marg Horwell and Matilda Woodroofe (interiors), Kat Chan (costumes), J Davide Franzke (sound) and Amelia Lever-Davidson (lighting) tell Shakespeare’s Hamlet and Because the Night. Explore! Push the “don’t push” buttons feel, watch, touch, open, get lost and listen. The detail is exquisite. From being able to see Claudia on the royal-office phone while hanging out with Gertrude in her flower-clad bedroom to feeling the empty air in front of you as you inch into a pitch-black room, the spoilers aren’t in the story but in the secrets of the design.

"Because the Night" Malthouse . Photo by Pia Johnson

There are clues everywhere. Some are obvious and others would take multiple visits to begin to figure out. But open draws, look in folders, go down anything that looks like it might be a room – I thought I’d found them all; I didn’t. But I found Hamlet’s childhood diary, King Hamlet’s autopsy report and Polonius’s secret bunker. I watched Laertes leave notes, Ophelia hide a weapon and Gertrude run her hands through the dirt of her husband’s grave. I followed actors and was distracted by rooms and lights and sounds. The story is clear no matter what you see or miss, but I knew we were more than half-way though when distraught Hamlet ran past me in a corridor convincing himself that “it was an accident”.

"Because the Night" Malthouse . Photo by Pia Johnson

The breathtaking complexity of Because the Night overcomes any fear of gimmick or even comparison to other immersive works based on Shakespeare. It’s sold out, but that only means that it’s something that Melbourne audiences really want more of. And multiple visits to. So keep an eye on the Malthouse web site for news. And next time, it would be amazing to have an immersive Australian story like Don’s Party, Summer of the 17th Doll or another Cloudstreet. 

"Because the Night" Malthouse . Photo by Pia Johnson

 

 * King Hamlet is dead and possibly haunting his castle. His wife Gertrude quickly married the King's brother/sister Claudius/a, who became monarch. His son Hamlet isn't happy. Polonius is advisor to the monarch and has two children, Laertes and Ophelia. Teenagers Prince Hamlet and Ophelia are hot for each other. There’s a lot of angst and the only option for a Shakespearian ending is “everyone gets married” or “everyone dies”.

What Melbourne Loved in 2019, part 7

Today we have amazing directors who have been SM supporters since the beginning: Declan, Daniel and Penelope. All still work as indie freelancers and also have had some pretty damn cool positions in some pretty damn cool places. Each make theatre that collaborates and shares and has created three of the most astonishing and original aesthetics around.

Declan Greene
Theatre-maker, half of Sisters Grimm, and, as of verrrry recently, AD of Griffin Theatre

Declan Greene, who knows that there's enough of his headshot in today's arts media

Favourite moments in 2019.
Adena Jacobs's Titus Andronicus. I'm cheating a bit cuz this was in Sydney, but Adena is as definitively "Melbourne" as it gets. Adena and Eugyeene Teh's procession of images was a spectacular, ever-deepening nightmare, and I'll never forget it.

The Rabble's Unwoman. Enough will be said about the exquisite design and imagery, but can we please talk about how its second act is The Rabble making a piece of straight-up *playwriting!!!* – and some the best on any stage in Melbourne this year, at that (Dana Miltins and Mary Helen Sassman). This just a few months after director, co-creator Emma Valente decided to casually dash off an opera to end My Dearworthy Darling. At this point I'm pretty sure there is nothingThe Rabble can't do.

Little Ones's Happy Prince. Another slight cheat as I finally got to see it at Griffin in Sydney, but it was as exquisite as I'd been told countless times. Such a masterful study in theatrical minimalism; only 60 minutes long and every second, every breath mattered.

Stone Motherless Cold and Miss Jane Doe at Cocoa Butter Club. Cocoa Butter Club is always a great time, but these two performances at the closing night of Iridescent festival were the definition of a Fire Act. On the tiny Hares and Hyenas stage, Stone delivered a jaw-dropping masterclass in high-femme eroticism, and then Miss Jane Doe pounded a watermelon to pieces by jumping into the splits. No moment in any traditional theatre this year could ever top it.

Cloudstreet at Malthouse. What an event. That ending with Benjamin Oakes's final words as Fish, and that cascade of water held in a final suspended second before a snap to blackout... Beyond.

Krishna Istha's The Beast. I could watch Krishna read the phone book, but very happily I didn't have to, because their first foray into stand up was blessed with some amazingly good jokes and some very silly stagecraft (co-created by Zoe Coombs Marr). So stupid, so smart, so prodigiously funny. It's back in Melbourne next year, don't miss it.

Looking forward to in 2020.
As of next year I'm living in Sydney, so seeing all the stuff people are looking forward to is giving me big pangs in the chest. There's so much stuff I wanna see. At Asia TOPA: Adena Jacobs and Ida Ayu Wayan Satyani's The Seen and the Unseen and Sipat Lawin's Are You Ready To Take The Law Into Your Own Hands?". A production at Theatre Works of Kim Ho's incredible The Great Australian Play. Ra Chapman's K-BOX and John Harvey's The Return at Malthouse. Ben Law's Torch the Place at MTC. A new Ash Flanders solo show (!!!). Argh. I will miss this city so much.

SM: I had my paragraph ready to go about Dec's extraordinary direction and writing of Wake in Fright (with Zarah Newman, of course), but he told me that his moments had to wait until today – and the WIF rave can also wait. My favourite moment was late last night when I heard that he'd been appointed Artistic Director of Griffin Theatre. Sure, we lose him to Sydney, but this is going to be so fucking amazing. I first saw his work in 2008, which was maybe four years ago, certainly not over 11 years ago because neither of us have aged a bit. I still remember Cell Block Booty in vivid detail. This was the kind of theatre I knew had to exist somewhere, even if I'd never been able to articulate what I wanted to see. Queerer than fuck and pearl-clutchingly offensive, its forensic autopsy of camp was doused in vodka and fueled by poppers, while being so brain-draining smart and having a stage that showed what we mean when we scream "representation". And that's before I start listing the amazing people who I first saw on a Sister's show. This re-set my aesthetic and every time I sat in a room surrounded by people who accepted that theatre is inherently dull, I want those theatre makers to go back in time, put on a warm jacket and see that show in the carpark theatre of the Collingwood flats.

Now, as I earn no money as an arts writer, how can I get to Sydney to see every Griffin show...

Daniel Lammin
Director, writer; Producer and programmer Monash Centre for Theatre and Performance

Daniel Lammin didn't let me go and choose my fave pic from FB this year.

Favourite moments in 2019.
I really adored the Grand Gesture, the gorgeous work that Katrina Cornwall and Morgan Rose created with the third year VCA students; a dissection of romance in cinema that was both a through interrogation and an open love letter.

I was also really blown apart by Barbara and the Camp Dogs, which I’d say is the best piece of Australian theatre I’ve seen since the Malthouse production of Picnic at Hanging Rock. It had me on the edge of my seat before emotionally pummelling me with its astonishing storm of words, music, emotion and fury. I don’t think I left the theatre the same person I was when I went in. It was something I knew from the moment I began that it was vitally important that I open my ears, open my heart and listen, really listen, to what it had to say. It demanded that, and it had every right to.

There was also UnHOWsed and The Other Place at Theatre Works, Disinhibition at MUST, Underground Railroad Game at Malthouse, and getting another chance to see and consequently finally fall in love with Dee and Cornelius’s Shit at fortyfivedownstairs.

The ultimate highlight though was Hofer Shechter’s Grand Finale at MIAF. I’d never seen the company before, and will never forget it. There’s no use even trying to describe it in words. If you were there, you know what I’m talking about. Man, I cried. I cried so, so much.

Oh, and touring Forgiveness, a Monash Centre for Theatre and Performance student work created with Penelope Bartlau and Ashlee Clapp to the Wuzhen Theatre Festival. That was pretty fucking cool.

Looking forward to in 2020.
Finally seeing Patricia Cornelius’s Do Not Go Gentle... – I mean, how awesome is that going to be!And seeing Stephen Nicolazzo take on Loaded. And new works from Chris Bryant and Chris Edwards at Theatre Works during Midsumma. And anything Morgan Rose and Kat Cornwall do, the work they make is wondrous.

And directing again. I’ve missed that.

SM: I also miss Daniel directing, but there's next year to look forward to. Daniel's someone I always try and talk to after shows because, as you can read, he feels shows. He listens to what the creators are saying rather than just looking for the connection to himself.


Penelope Bartlau
Artist and director Barking Spider Visual Theatre

Penelope Bartlau. Photo by Sarah Walker

Favourite moments in 2019.
Hands down, my favourite moment was Do Not Collect $200 – an interactive game/performance experience produced by MUST, created by Harley Hefford and team. Its controlled chaos was delicious and its politics searing. Sublimely clever and so much fun. I had seen a number of MIAF shows during the same time frame and Harley's show caught me off-guard. Brilliant.

Grand Finale by Hofesh Shechter at MIAF was relentless and powerful. I hope never to miss one of this artist's shows when they are in town. Speaking (again) of MIAF, Stephanie Lake's Colossus remount was a gobsmacker: compelling and beautiful.

The hair forest of The Rabble's Unwoman (Kate Davis's design) was marvellous, and the second scene with Dana Miltins and Mary Helen Sassman was a rare moment where I felt like my story – our story as women – was represented in such a sharp, gut wrenching and fearless way.

Looking forward to in 2020.
Lots of very interesting work involving infrastructure, transport, regional development and communications.

SM: I haven't seen anything of Penelope's this year: that's not good at all. As she's just stepped down as Creative Director Women's Circus, perhaps there's more Barking Spider to see next year.

What Melbourne Loved in 2019, part 6

Katie, Yvonne and Daniel are today's guests.

Every year, people tell me how they are angry at themselves for doing this in their head and not going any further. Remember that all it has to be in one moment (and everyone has their dodgy grammar edited). All you have to do is fill in this form.

Katie Sfetkidis
Artist, lighting designer

Katie Sfetkidis. Photo by Marcel Feillafe

 
Favourite moments in 2019.
2019 has been amazing , even though I was away for a large chunk of the year, I have still see some amazing work!

Raina Peterson and Govind Pillai's Third Nature. One of the most sensual and erotic shows I have ever seen. Just exquisite.

The Rabble's Unwoman. I love this company and I love this show. Visually striking and super political. I found this show incredibly complex and overwhelming. I have such great admiration for these company of incredible women and hope to be able to see this show again.

Sound art at The Substation. This programming at The Substation has been really wonderful this year, highlights wwereas seeing William Basinksi and Merzbow. I also really enjoyed the quirky cabinet of curiosities that was the Violin Generator.

Those who Rock by Joseph O’Farrell (JOF). What a rush! There was something so amazing about seeing hundreds of guitar players from around Melbourne take over the stage at Hammer Hall. Ultimate highlight was the finale; nothing can beat seeing over 300 guitar amps onstage whilst the audience sang along.

Looking forward to in 2020.
I am looking forward to seeing some exciting collaborations for Asia TOPA including post’s Oedipus Schmoedipus and Adena Jacobs's The Seen and Unseen.

Next Wave festival: I just love the theme for this year's festiva' – A Government of Artists and can’t wait to how the artists responds to it.

Also on my list is: K-Box by Ra Champan, Go to Hell with Paul Capsis and iOTA, Torch the Place by Ben Eltham and La Boite’s adaptation of St Joan of The Stockyards directed by Sanja Simic.

For my own work, I can’t wait to work with my best friend and collaborator Stephen Nicolazzo on Orlando and Loaded. Both these works are ultimate favourite texts of mine and it is such a treat to get to reimagine them for the stage.

SM: Katie has been out of Melbourne for most of the year, including with The Director, which was one of my absolute favourite shows from last year. But she was back for Aphids and Mish Grigor's recent Exit Strategies at Arts House. I loved this show for many reasons, including how Katie's lighting defined the distinct spaces on the stage – that corridor of light –, created mood and let us move in time. What we feel when we watch shows is so often created by elements of the design, and so often it's not noticed because it sneaks into our brains unconsciously.

Yvonne Virsik
Director, producer; Artistic Director MUST (Monash Uni Student Theatre)

Yvonne Virsik

Favourite moments in 2019.
Moments, with lots of realisations, in no particular order:

In Slaughterhouse Five, adapted from Vonnegut by Fleur Kilpatrick: when an actor drew a light switch on a blackboard, pressed it and turned all the stage lights off (MUST and Theatre Works).

Realising when watching MTC's Golden Shield that it was a new Australian work of epic scale by a young woman of colour (Anchuli Felicia King), and on The Sumner stage, and one of the best things I felt I had seen all year.

In Gender Euphoria (remounted at MIAF), during Nikki Viveca's monologue: realising that I didn't think I'd ever seen a personal story integrated so beautifully into a cabaret work.

Sharing the pure sheer, generous joy of performance from Jue and Poh in Equation at Signal at Melbourne Fringe.

UnHOWsed (Theatre Works, Tashmadada and Voices of the South Side): realising something on another level about homelessness, particularly during the extended shower sequence.

Those images in Colossus (Stephanie Lake, MIAF /Arts Centre Melbourne remount).

The joyous (seemingly spontaneous) concert in the alley after the final performance of Calamity Jane at Comedy Theatre.

Realising I was experiencing a pure, challenging discomfort in Malthouse's Underground Railroad Game.

Realising just what a brilliant job my table's 'personal banker' was doing, and how reliant we were upon them in the interactive game/performance experience of MUST's Do Not Collect $200 (created by Harley Hefford and team, based on a previous iteration).

Climbers at MUST:written by Elly D'Arcy and co directed by her and Natalie Speechley:  seeing one of the most compelling new texts I've read come to life.

When in the Q & A after A_tistic's Helping Hands at La Mama: man said the show had completely transformed his understanding of his son's neurodiversity and how he would endeavour to communicate with him from now on.

The train scene with the distressed mother and child in Anthem (MIAF): incredibly powerful and disconcerting.

Just some (more) of the shows I loved, in no particular order:

The Bloomshed's Paradise Lost at The Butterfly Club: hilarious, gloriously pointy and brilliantly realised.

Wake in Fright at Malthouse: Pure, electric theatre;the power of text, actor and director powerfully collaborating to crystallize their story.

Cock directed by Beng Oh at fortyfivedownstairs: the power of text, actors and director  collaborating to crystallize their story.

Love and Shit by Dee and Cornelius at fortyfivedownstairs: as above.

Sweet Phoebe directed by Mark Wilson at Red Stitch: as above.

Oil by Ella Hickson, directed by Ella Caldwell at Red Stitch: as above.

I'm a Phoenix, Bitch by Bryony Kimmings at  Arts Centre Melbourne in Melbourne Fringe: devastating story and performance.

Patrick Collins, Mime Consultant: a great, fun, smart, slick show from Patrick and his director, Justin Gardam.

Love + at Melbourne Fringe: a layered, beautifully told story about AI and human interaction

A View from the Bridge at MTC: See MTC, you don't have to have all the bells and whistles, just powerful choices.

Unwoman by The Rabble at The Substation: Those images! And incredible text and performances in act two.

Sublimal Massage by Marcus McKenzie at Melbourne Fringe: a super-sharp provocational unpackign of us and out attitudes to art and pop culture; surreal yet highly accessible.

The Drill by Womens Circus, AD Penelope Bartlau: A stunning, surprising, shared community experience; very special to get the tour of the spaces we didn't see during our particular journey.

Grand Finale by Hofesh Shechter at MIAF:  REQUIRES CAPITALS TO INDICATE ITS PURE THEATRICAL POWER!

Looking forward to in 2020.
You've heard enough from me - all of it!

SM: Yvonne's direction of Dishinbition by Christopher Bryant at MUST. Her direction lets the writer's voice be so clear and she finds ways for her actors (who are often relatively inexperienced) to bring the parts of themselves to the characters that complete the characters.


Daniel Clarke
Executive Producer, Programming at Queensland Performing Arts Centre; on leave from his role as Creative Producer, Theatre and Contemporary Performance at Arts Centre Melbourne

Daniel Clarke

Wake in Fright by Declan Greene and Zahra Newman at Malthouse was an extraordinary work; completely thrilling and so exciting. I literally had jaw-dropping moments throughout the whole piece and I left the theatre shaking. Incredible.

I was completely bowled over by Counting and Cracking by Belvoir at Adelaide Festival. I was moved to tears many times, but also to joy that this story was being told and grateful to Belvoir for investing the resources and care to make it. For me, this was one of the most relevant, contemporary Australian plays in years. A hugely ambitious work; a unique, inspiring, cultural collaboration; a great work that matters now. A work that can speak to so many people; a significant contribution to our culture.

Other highlights include Harry Clayton Wright’s Sex Education, Are we not drawn onward to a new era by Ontroerend Goed and Seasick by Alana Mitchel at Edinburgh Fringe; Noni Hazlehurst and Yael Stone in The Beauty Queen of Leenane at STC;  Battersea Arts Centre’s Frankenstein: How to Make a Monster; Things I know to be True by Andrew Bovell  at Belvoir Street; and Ainsley Melham’s performance in Kiss of the Spider Woman at MTC – what a star!

Oh and how could I not mention Harry Potter and The Cursed Child and Come from Away: both brilliant.

Looking forward to in 2020
Louise Bezzina’s first Brisbane Festival.
Michelle Law’s Miss Peony at Belvoir in Sydney.
Stephen Nicolazzo’s Loaded at Malthouse.
Sisters Grimm’s musical of The Sovereign Wife at Hayes Theatre Company in Sydney..


SM: To say that Dan's had a humongous year is still an understatement. Without him we wouldn't have had Gender Euphoria or Anthem or I'm a Phoenix, Bitch. He finds ways to bring the the best indendepdent artists and theatre to main stages and creates spaces where new work can be developed, never taking "it can't be done" for an answer.

What Melbourne Loved in 2019, part 2

Today, we hear from some of those artists whose work creates, develops and supports other art and performance in Melbourne.

Here's the form to write your contribution; you get to chose your own photo.

Keith Gow
Playwright and critic
keithgow.com

Some actor & Keith Gow in London. Hello, sweetie.

Favourite moments in 2019.
I was so pleased to see my friend Andi Snelling back on stage in Happy-Go-Wrong telling a deeply personal story about invisible illness, without it feeling at all indulgent – and making an utterly mesmerising, moving piece of theatre.

Some really excellent theatre at Malthouse this year, with Underground Railroad Game, Barbara and the Camp Dogs, My Dearworthy Darling and Australian Realness being utterly superb.

I saw three Arthur Miller plays this year (!), two in London – a bland production of All My Sons and an astonishing mixed-race production of Death of a Salesman – but the best one was by the Melbourne Theatre Company, in its A View from the Bridge.

And some solid, exciting work at Red Stitch this year, too, with Control, Dance Nation and Pomona as the real stand-outs.

Looking forward to in 2020. 
Grey Arias, Do Not Go Gentle... and Loaded at Malthouse. Home I'm Darling and Fun Home at MTC. Orlando directed by Stephen Nicolazzo at Red Stitch.


SM:Keith is another independent writer who writes about shows because he loves them and wants to support our arts community. His reviews are honest and beautifully written. Read him; I sure do. And he supports other writers by reading everyone else's reviews.

Danny Delahunty
Producer of festivals, Lover of art

Danny Delahunty. Photo by Sarah Walker

Favourite moments in 2019.
2019 was a really great year for amazing theatre, particularly in the independent sector. If I put aside my shining conflict of interest with Melbourne Fringe, my favourite moment that has stuck with me is Queen Kong. Everything about it was excellent, but the big thing for me was how progressed the concept of integrated access was in the work (most noticeably with the Auslan elements, which were a core part of the creative work itself and not just an addendum tacked on at the end). It was just such a great example of what can be done to make a work accessible without that accessibility feeling clinical and separate from the creative elements.

I also have to mention the absolutely stunning stagecraft and production wizardry in Harry Potter and the Cursed Child. For such a dire script, the fact that this show was nothing less of spectacular is a testament to all involved. Yeah, I know, budget budget budget and the fact that you could have funded 10,000 indie theatre productions on a fraction of their operational costs, but ... to see a piece of theatre that literally rebuilt the internals of a heritage venue from the ground on up in order to fully come alive felt like a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I also really appreciate the capacity of this show to introduce a heap of young 'uns to theatre for the first time in a context that's a bit more interesting for them than Year 7 trips to Uncle Vanya at MTC.

Looking forward to in 2020. 
The Asia TOPA program looks great, with my top pick being Metal (Lucy Guerin Inc collaborating with an Indonesian heavy metal choir – it's perfect.) I'm also really looking forward to Le Gateau Chocolat and Adrienne Truscott's Great Arias at Malthouse. Past that, I'm not sure what else it on its way in the indie circuit... usually I read through the "What Melbourne Loved" answers and put together my calendar from that, haha*!


SM: Danny and the team at Melbourne Fringe created a whole new amazing arts venue at Trades Hall! A new arts hub filled with so many performances spaces**. The Melbourne Fringe 2019 brought Trades Hall back to life. As unions struggle and our dear leaders try to portray the idea of people working together to stop exploitation and greed*** as dangerous, it was wonderful to see so many people back in the space created by Melbourne's workers unions. So many people getting together to see so many people creating art that show us our communities and beliefs through different eyes, that shows what the world should be and what it could be if we don't see those different perspectives.

* That's how I choose my shows.
** He may not have slept in September.
*** Join your union.

Emily Sexton
Arts House artistic director

Emily Sexton. Photo by Sarah Walker

Favourite moments in 2019.
Walking into the opening night of the Yirramboi festival at the Meat Market was a revelation. I had never seen the space so transformed and so beautiful, and the performers that night were incredible: Deborah Cheetham, Sermsah Bin Saad, Monica Jasmine McDonald, Allara Briggs Pattison, The Merindas, Soju Gang. It was very memorable and a clear indication of First Nations artists in Victoria going from strength to strength.

I loved the double-bill that saw Vicki Van Hout’s plenty serious Talk Talk alongside the premiere of Joel Bray’s Daddy. It was so interesting to see these multi-generational Wiradjuri artists intersect – their stories, their form and craft, their humour.

Looking forward to in 2020. 
I was lucky to see The Mysterious Lai Teck in Yokohama in February as part of TPAM and it is a fascinating, literary show that left me much to contemplate about the nature of translation, the power of oral histories and the flaws of written archives;  it is coming to Melbourne as part of Asia TOPA.

Can I plug my own stuff? I’m going to plug my own stuff. I’m super excited by the local and international premieres happening in Arts House’s Season 1 in 2020 – did someone say Filipino action thriller musical? We have also announced a new project: Bleed – a biennial live event in the everyday digital. We have joined forces with Campbelltown Arts Centre to explore the relationship between the live and digital experience. From URL to IRL and back again, this is art that meets you where you already are: online, hyper-connected and endlessly networked. As digital increasingly seeps into our communities, identities and culture, we are working with artists who seek to make visible the shifts in power that result. The project will explore different models of sharing art, and in the process celebrate the spaces contemporary art is claiming within a digital public sphere. It will encourage different modes of listening, watching and playing, while still asking the question: where, when and how do we come together? The first edition starts in June at Arts House, Campbelltown Arts Centre, online, in the flesh and in your pocket. 

SM: Every time I see a show at Arts House, I tell myself that I should see more shows at Arts House. (Sometimes, the only thing wrong with Melbourne is how long it takes to get from one side of the city to the other for a 7 pm show.) It's a place where artists are free to make the work that they want and need to make without the pressure of box office and stars. It's a place where work develops and experiments and questions why we do this.

What Melbourne Loved in 2019, part 1

What Melbourne Loved officially starts in December, but let's get started now. OK, this is a reminder to write your contributions. Fill in this form.

And what better way to start than with three of my favourite people, artists and creators who all put perspectives, concepts, point of views, writing and artists that are STILL dismissed or ignored on our stages. This is why we keep coming back to theatre.


Stephen Nicolazzo 
Director
Little Ones Theatre

Stephen Nicolazzo

Favourite moments in 2019.
The works that really stayed with me this year were a combination of fierce feminist performance art, dance and fiery theatricality. My all-time favourite moment of 2019 was Bitch on Heat by Leah Shelton at Theatre Works. It was pure genius: violent, sexy, disturbing, visually arresting and genre bending. One of the most glorious examples of how heightened physical performance can touch the soul, be critical and have a vital and unique pulse. I have not stopped thinking about it.

Other works that shook me were Antony Hamilton’s sensual, expressionistic masterpiece Token Armies for Chunky Move and the Melbourne International Arts  Festival, The Rabble's poignant and darkly humorous Unwoman, Bron Batten’s deeply confessional and arresting Waterloo at Melbourne Fringe,  Adena Jacobs’s horrifying and nightmarish Titus Andronicus at Bell Shakespeare, and two shows in New York (which I know are not Melbourne but too good not to mention!): Heidi Schreck’s deeply moving political meditation What The Constitution Means to Me directed by Oliver Butler, and Jacquiline Novak’s feminist manifesto about giving head, Get On Your Knees at Cherry Lane Theatre.

A personal highlight was meeting camp and queer theatre legend Charles Busch (writer of Psycho Beach Party) in New York City and getting the chance to spend a day with him talking about queer theatre history, the significance of comedy and his run in with Paul McCartney. I also had the pleasure of attending the 2019 Director’s Lab at Lincoln Centre Theatre. It gave me a new love and appreciation of Melbourne theatre and all of the vital and exciting work we create. Also, directing the INCREDIBLE Joel Bray in his work Daddy, which was presented as part of Yirramboi Festival, Liveworks and Brisbane Festival. AND FINALLY, getting to reunite The Happy Prince team after two and a half years at Griffin Theatre Companyin Sydney. Truly nourishing.

Oh! And getting to do Merciless Gods at Arts Centre Melbourne was the single greatest theatrical experience of my life?!

Looking forward to in 2020.
Asia TOPA's presentation of The Seen and Unseen, Jenny Kemp's production of Anatomy of a Suicide at Red Stitch, Paul Capsis and Michael Kantor's Go To Hell at Malthouse, K-Box at Malthouse, Triple X at Queensland Theatre/STC, and anything at Arts House, Dance House and the many exciting shows and events for Asia TOPA and the new Melbourne Festival.

SM: Stephen convinced me to go ahead with this again this year. As I see everything he does, I'd already seen the work he got to remount this year, except Daddy. I tried both seasons and sometimes it's not possible. But there is another chance next year.


Mama Alto
Jazz singer, cabaret artiste and gender-transcendent diva

Mama Alto. Photo by Alexis Desaulniers-Lea

Favourite moments in 2019.
I loved seeing the virtuosic piano performances of Andrea Katz deftly incorporated into the Cameron Lukey and Gary Abrahams's vision of 33 Variations.

I loved the absolute triumph of Queen Kong during Midsumma: Sarah Ward and her incredible band, with fully integrated Auslan with interpreter Kirri Dangerfield and Deaf interdisciplinary artist Asphyxia, on a journey through the cosmos and the interior universe of the human psyche, confronting so many of our contemporary issues through glam rock cabaret. And that powerhouse voice!

Looking forward to in 2020.
I am looking forward to hopefully seeing even more; one of the hardest things, for me, about working in the arts is that sometimes you miss out on seeing things because you're also doing a show!

SM: The absolute gut-felt joy of Gender Euphoria at Midsumma will be a life-long favourite moment. Then multiplying that again at Gender Euphoria at the Melbourne International Arts Festival. I feel better about life just by thinking about it again. As a critic, I get dismissed for criticising shows that dismiss how they perpetuate fucked-up and hurtful ideas about gender, race and sexuality (last week, I saw an opera that still has people onstage in unnecessary slanty-eye make up). So when artists like Mama and Maude Davey and producers like Daniel Clarke make and support shows that show us how the world should be, our community shares a sigh of relief. Is it really so hard to think about the impact your art has on your audience? Of course, it is easier to not invite people who might not shower you with meaningless stars and to encourage an audience who all look and think alike.

But nothing was quite as good as the look on Mama's face when she arrived at her surprise-birthday-party-cum-intimate-performance-spectacular, organised by Creatrix Tiara. 


Robert Reid
Playwright, game maker, critic

Robert Reid. Photo by Sarah Walker

Favourite moments in 2019.
MDLSX by Motus at Arts House.  Okay, I guess if I had to pick one thing, then it would actually be this because this is the first thing I think of every time I think of filling in this form. Incredible solo performance, and incredible use of tech, sound, light, story, meta narrative.  Hard, fast, brutal, honest, smart... yeah, MDLSX was my fave, I guess.

BUT, Barbara and the Camp Dogs at Malthouse comes a close second. Terrific night in the theatre; never felt for a moment the show didn't care if I was there or not; told the story we need to keep hearing; not a dry eye in the house; rock and roll theatre.

If they were they only things I'd seen all year, I'd have been pretty happy.

Looking forward to in 2020. 
I dunno, it's so hard to look forward to things at the moment. I'll be happy just to see who survives into 2020. What I'd like to be looking forward to is a restructuring of the funding models and an increase in budgetary allowance for the arts... Is that so much to hope for?

There is at least one show I'm looking forward to next year. Sipat Lawin is coming out with are you ready to take the law into your own hands. I am going the hell to that, I can tell you.

SM: I'm pretty chuffed that Witness is still going, but it's too easy to choose my favourite Rob moment this year: The Bacchae. Produced by MUST at La Mama, written (over many years) and directed by Rob, and with a huge cast of the most amazing women and female-identifying performers, it was an epic afternoon and evening of theatre that put women in the centre of the stories and found the point of views that are too often ignored, even when women are the story.


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