What Melbourne Loved in 2017, part 5

Part 5 is brought to us by Sam and Matilda from Lab Kelpie because they have the best headshots.

Lyall Brooks
Actor
Artistic Director, Lab Kelpie 

Lyall Brooks

Favourite moments in 2017
The short answer is “new Australian writing”. Whether it was a production, a development or reading, or just a script – the breadth and quality and incisiveness and timeliness of the local voices I experienced this year blew me away.

The production of Kim Ho’s Mirror’s Edge, directed by Petra Kalive and performed with buckets of talent and passion by a bunch of Melbourne Uni students, was phenomenal. A brave expanse of ideas that crossed eras and skimmed its perfectly formed text across both a figurative pond of magical realism – and a literal onstage lake. It warmed my heart and poked my brain and made me cheer.

I also loved the silliness and charm of the only Melbourne Fringe show I was in town for, The Lounge Room Confabulator’s Survival Party. With my favourite dog on my right and my favourite cat lady on my left*, I laughed myself a damn headache for over an hour of what was basically a microcosm of Fringe: raw, sometimes-miss-but-mostly-hit, form-pushing and joyous theatre.

I got to glimpse a lot of unproduced work this year, too. Scripts by Emilie Collyer, Emina Ashman, Dianne Stubbings and Katy Warner (among others) all excited me – and Lonely Company’s brilliant Beta Fest: Theatre in Various States of Undress was an inspiring exhibition of new works currently under construction, and Lonely Company deserve a HUGE huzzah for making it happen.

[Self Promotion #1…] Personally, being a part of Patricia Cornelius’s Big Heart this year, as Theatre Works Associate Artist and the luckiest assistant director alive to work and learn under Susie Dee, was also one of my favourite moments (if a moment can still be spread over the months-long process). It was a big, brave work with both a beautiful team and relentless challenges, and I learned so much being on the other side of the table for once.

I could bang on for pages about what I loved this year, but I’ll stop.

No, sorry, one more thing.

Even though they weren’t in Melbourne, some of the theatre Adam and I saw overseas in 2017 (Small Town Boy by Maxim Gorki and Situation Rooms by Rimini Protokoll in Berlin, Cheese by Java Dance Theatre in New Zealand) and interstate (Bitch: The Origin of the Female Species by Edith Podesta at Brisbane Festival) made us stupidly excited about the potential of the form back home.

Looking forward to in 2018
The general answer is the same: New Australian stuff. Patricia’s long overdue mainstage debut, The House of Bernada Alba, finally catching Picnic at Hanging Rock at Malthouse, Jean Tong’s Hungry Ghosts, and all the vibrant indie stuff Melbourne does so freeking well.

[Self Promotion #2…] Lab Kelpie has a massive 2018 ahead with two new major works: Petra Kalive’s Oil Babies and the Victorian premiere of Mary Anne Butler’s Broken, on top of three or four shows in development and a national tour of A Prudent Man. This is only partly a plug! I genuinely am so looking forward to a MAD year presenting and developing new projects and working on building new avenues of support for our local theatre writers.

SM: There were Lyall's undies and his snot – and the rest of Spencer. But I'm going for his Frank in Merrily We Roll Along. And Sam.  I haven't met Matilda.

* I know who it is.

Keith Gow
Playwright, reviewer

Keith Gow

Favourite moments in 2017
Wild Bore was an absolute marvel of satire and craft and pure theatrical madness. I laughed so much it hurt, and then it gave me so much to think about in regard to theatre criticism and the conversation between critic and artist. Whenever I’ve written a review since, I’ve interrogated my point of view more and tried even harder to dig in to what the artist was striving for, whether it worked for me or not. I’m so thrilled this show has travelled far and wide this year.

Nanette was so simple and so powerful and would have always been so, but in the year of the marriage equality survey, it had so much resonance throughout the community. Stand-up comedy can be so immediate and respond to politics and society in a way traditional forms of theatre cannot because of its lengthy development process. This, though, is the culmination of Hannah Gadsby’s stand-up career; a show she has been writing and not writing for her whole career. Astonishing and brave and remarkable. And, as with Wild Bore, I’m glad this show has toured all over the place.

Looking forward to in 2018
I’m looking forward to Stephen Nicolazzo and Eugyeene Teh and Katie Sfetkidis being let loose at MTC for Abigail’s Party. I’m excited for The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime, also at MTC. The Malthouse line-up looks thrilling from beginning to end, but I am hanging out for Melancholia, Blackie Blackie Brown and the shows from Belarus Free Theatre.

Outside the main stages, I want to see Strangers in Between at Midsumma, directed by Daniel Lammin. And whatever is happening at Theatre Works, which had a really great 2017.

SM: Keith is a writer who sees and supports a LOT of independent theatre. I read his reviews and they often influence my choice to see a work, especially if it's new writing.

Tom Middleditch
Playwright, director

Tom Middleditch

Favourite moments in 2017
Awakening, remounting  MUST's season last year. It's rare to find a work that speaks for teenagers across the ages, corrects the faults of the original text while making the heart of said original stand strong. Vibrant, unapologetic, necessary, it's the sort of work that reminds you what we were really in danger of in the teen years, and fondly remembers those who didn't get to tell the tale themselves.

Germinal, as part of the Melbourne Festival. As a lover of Absurdism and anything involving the universe, I was sold from the blurb alone. What I wasn't expecting was the most joyful experience in theatre I've had in years. It collects its silly moments like the grandest and most adorably astute Absurdist on the open mic and climaxes, making not so much a point but a celebration of the stuff that just happened. Also, the joy of seeing a group of actors take to the Malthouse stage with pickaxes and ramming trees through the stage had me giggling for a good long time.

Looking forward to in 2018
Top of the list is The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime (which is here years before I expected), telling a neurodiverse story that will be the genre and pop culture reference point for those on the spectrum for years to come, and on which all evolution towards acceptance and empathy will sprout from.

I'm also pumped for Jean Tong's Hungry Ghosts at the MTC. Seeing our generation of theatre makers and playwrights get the main stage attention they deserve is vindicating, and after catching their work in the Poppy Seed festival, Jean is one of the voices I want front and centre of this new wave.

SM: Tom's Alexithymia recently premiered at the Poppy Seed Festival. Full of heart and understanding, and I really hope it gets the chance for some development and another season. So much of power of theatre is seeing the world through different eyes;  writes neurodiverse characters and stories that remind us that we all see and understand the world differently.

part 4
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part 1
2016
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2013
2012

Review: 100% Melbourne

100% Melbourne
Rimini Protokoll

Melbourne Town Hall

4 May

With only three performances and a non-performer cast of 100, 100% Melbourne is already one of those were-you-there? and why-didn’t-I-know-about-this? events that a mere description cannot do justice to.

The project started with one Melburnian, who works with population stats for the City of Melbourne. He had 24 hours to recruit the next person, who had 24 hours to recruit the next until the chain finished at 100 with a woman forced to flee Bosnia-Herzegovina. Each person in the chain had to meet demographic criteria (like age, gender, area you live, marital status, family composition, area of birth); so, each person represents 1% of the city, about 41,000 people. It was easy at the beginning of the chain, but got harder once most of the spots were filled.

With support from Arts Victoria, The Goethe Institute and the Hebbel Theatre Berlin, the City of Melbourne and Berlin-based trio Rimini Protokoll created a curious, fascinating and surprisingly moving piece of raw reality theatre that comforts and shocks in its revelations about our city’s wonderful people

As number one, Anton Griffith introduced the project, introduced the second percent and the giant circular stage began to revolve. One hundred people held a treasured object and told us a tiny something about themselves and their story. As we met number 100, Senada Bosnic Ekic, the circle was complete and I was wiping away tears. Sometimes all we have in life is our story and it’s an honour to glimpse what 100 people choose as their story and see the pride or trepidation they tell it with.

But the fun and the stories had only just began. Spending a lot of time in theatres, my reflection of Melbourne is rather limited and these 100 people show how tiny inner-city, arty Melbourne really is. With a projection of the circle above the stage, the 100 moved into groups to answer the demographic questions (each asked by one of the group) and, as an audience member, I was immediately struck by some of the assumptions I made. One of my favourite moments was asking who came here by boat: three older men from Europe.

As the questions moved from demographics to attitudes, opinions and beliefs, more prejudices and assumptions were laid bare – along with those of the people on stage.

With questions like who has been a victim of violence, believes in the death penalty, has suffered from depression, has seen ghosts, has committed an act of violence, has the job they dreamed of, thinks there are racists on the stage, has been in gaol, each story grew in complexity and opinions about a person’s likability or they-represent-me changed in an an instant. Do that many people really believe in the death penalty?

When asked to name their favourite (non-family) Australian, I was surprised at the number of politicians written down, which included a Julia Gillard and at least three Kevin Rudds. I don’t think I saw an Abbott, but I may have been distracted by the Dame Edna and the Matthew Newton.

The genius of 100% Melbourne is how it forces the audience to answer the questions themselves. Would we be happy/brave/stupid enough to answer them in front of strangers, let alone in front of family and friends?

In about 90 minutes, this work created an intimacy with and a rare understanding of 100 strangers. I left knowing who I’d like to know and who I’d be polite to before moving away. Who really represents is has little to do with where they live, their age or cultural background; it’s about how we think. And there are people who think differently to me!

100% Melbourne was a wonderful and moving night in the Melbourne Town Hall that for a short time unified a very diverse group of people. If you missed it, try and get a copy of the gorgeous book (yay Tom Cho) that came with the performance. I wished I’d bought extra copies for friends who are having babies this year. Filled with Melbourne stats and profiles of the 100, it’s a snapshot of now and design alone assures that it’s a keeper. Mine’s in my living room to share with visitors.

This review was on AussieTheatre.com

PLEASE SEE 100% Melbourne

100% Melbourne

Rimini Protokoll

Melbourne Town Hall

4 May

to 6 May

Details here

I have to be up early tomorrow and won't have a chance to sit and write until after the weekend. 100% Melbourne demands a substantial reflection that I can't begin when I'm tired and haven't had the chance to read the wonderful book that comes with the show.

All I can say is SEE THIS. PLEASE. You'll not regret a moment. I was grinning inanely and crying (and trying to hide that I was crying).

There are 100 people who represent Melbourne. They are not actors. I don't know any of them! They start as statistics and gently reveal their lives through stories, treasured objects and answers to questions.

Continually surprising, it comforts and shocks as it reveals the hopes, beliefs and prejudices of the 100. But its genius is how we have no choice but to define our own statistics and wonder if we'd be brave, or stupid, enough to answer some of those questions in front of family and strangers.

But based on some of tonight's stats and revelations, here are some of mine:

I'm 43. I'm not sure what happened to the last decade.

I'm single and childless. I'm only ok with one of these.

I'm 170cm, 83kg and straight, the last time I checked.

I was born and brought up in Adelaide. And I'm as white and middle class as an Adelaidian can be. I've also lived in Sydney, Perth and Canberra.

I've lived in inner Melbourne (the south side) since 2003. I never want to move and don't know what I'm going to do when the owner's building plans are approved and I'm evicted.

I'm a freelance writer. I didn't take writing seriously until my late 30s.

I earn a lot less than when I was an arts manager/producer/director/marketer. I'm so sick of worrying about money, but I don't regret my decision to change what I did to earn money. I've also met many wonderful people who are also writers.

My greatest treasure is my cat Flue. I never understood pet people until I had my own pets. She is old and sick and that breaks my heart. I also love my other cat, Molly.

I'm writing a young adult book called Stupid and Contagious. It's funny. I have draft concept of a TV series called The Hanged Man. It's also funny and a bit creepy.  I don't like the title. I started a film called Damask. Like most first attempts, it's atrocious, but it proves to me that my writing has improved.  I haven't written any new fiction since November. This worries me.

I write good copy and will write ANYTHING if you pay me or pay my rent for me.

I have no desire to write FOR theatre, only about it.

I try not to dance or cry in public.

I didn't leave Australia until I was 40.

I believe in life after death.

I don't believe in a god.

I've seen ghosts.

I spend a LOT of time alone.

I've done things I'd like to forget.
I like Kevin Rudd.

I've lied.

I'm not living the life I dreamed of, but I'm living a life I like.

review