Review & photos: Whale

Whale
Speakeasy
2 May 2019
Northcote Town Hall
to 11 May
darebinarts.com.au

Sonya Suares. Photo by Theresa Harrison

With two works opening within a week of each other in two of Melbourne's significant independent theatre venues, playwright Fleur Kilpatrick might be a bit overwhelmed. Hopefully in a good way. A remount of her remarkable adaption of Kurt Vonnegut's Slaughterhouse Five (which she also directed) has just finished at Theatre Works in St Kilda, and Whale – which won the 2018 Max Afford Playwright's Award and was supported by crowd funding – is part of Darebin's Speakeasy program at Northcote.

Whale is participatory theatre.

That's all that a lot of people need to know as they book tickets without a moment's hesitation; the rest are shuddering and deciding to watch TV instead.

But there's no need for fear. Really.

Ok, there's a real need for fear as this work is about climate change, but not about the participatory nature of this night.

Whale is as much about theatre as it is theatre. In Kilpatrick's theatre stories, the audience are, to different degrees, characters and participants as much as observers. Theatre isn't just what happens on the stage, it's how we feel watching it, it's what we talk about afterwards, it's whether we go home and forget it or are still thinking about it days and weeks later. It's what we do.

Whale is all about what we do.

It opens with host Sonya Suares, in a Ted-Talk-suitable vest and matching pants, welcoming everyone as if we know the purpose of our meeting. Meanwhile Sarah Walker takes photos so that this important event is documented. It doesn't take long before we know we've gathered to make a group decision that will end climate change. Pretty good, huh? But there are consequences, and when there's choice, there's disagreement.

But none of this matters if participatory independent theatre saves our world, right? May as well give it a go, because anger and despair aren't working. And we've given up on politics.

Theatre is not a void. And even when knowing  Suares, Walker and Chanella Macri are performing,  the audience are fully engaged and committed to the result.

Director Katrina Cornwell and the design team (composer and sound: Raya Slavin, set and costume: Emily Collett, lighting: Lisa Mibus, AV: Sarah Walker) create a world that is far more than the one envisioned in Kilpatrick's writing. Whale is written to allow other creatives to make a work that belongs to everyone. In the same way that the audiences are trusted to be so vital to the result that everyone puts on their party hats without hesitation.

There are party hats. And chips and drinks. And penguins, projections, rocks, bad congratulations certificates, flooding and a discussion about if a play called "Whale" has to include a whale. It's unexpected theatre that's easy to get lost in and be a part of. And it might even make you do something new when you leave.

Photo by Theresa Harrison

Photo by Theresa Harrison

Photo by Theresa Harrison

Photo by Theresa Harrison

Photo by Theresa Harrison

Photo by Theresa Harrison

Photo by Theresa Harrison

What Melbourne Loved in 2018, part 6

Today, we remember that our theatre community is far more than just the people on stage.

Sarah Walker
Photographer

Sarah Walker. Photo by Jordon Prosser

Favourite moments in 2018
I photographed three productions by Western Edge Youth Arts this year, and they all totally blew me away. Casts of young people, aged between 12 and 25, almost all from migrant communities, tackled Antigone and Romeo and Juliet with such power, passion, humour and wickedness. I was floored.

There were so many moments just in those three performances: Young Samoan performers stepping in and out of character with whiplash speed to comment on their own experiences of tradition, honour and ceremony. Somali girls agonising over exactly what it felt like to be turned into an object, when unpacking the Montague/Capulet conflict in Romeo and Juliet. Polynices reframed as a young black man enraged by the system and reclaiming power the only way he knew how. A young man playing Creon, soliciting press questions from the audience and answering them more deftly than any real politician I’ve seen.

They were the most exciting, innovative and thrilling performances I saw all year, and they reminded me what theatre can and should be. Huge props to the staff and directors there who are giving so much of themselves to make space for new voices. Terrific stuff.

Looking forward to in 2019
I’ve been working with Fleur Kilpatrick for 10 years, and to be in the room with her and a collection of incredible, intelligent women for the development of Whale has been just so exciting. I can’t wait to be part of giving that show a life next year. I think it’s going to be a real good one.

SM: Sarah and I talked about ghosts for a project she was making; I loved that.

Robert Reid
Playwright
Witness

Robert Reid. An old publicity shot

Favourite moments in 2018
Contest, by Emilie Collyer. Incredible text staged by a fiercely intelligent team. My review at Witness Performance.

Prize Fighter by Future D Fidel, Powerful story, powerful writing, powerful performance, great theatre. See My review at Witness Performance.

Pre-Historic, Elbow Room, great story, great writer, great performances, plucky and spunky and smart and fun. My review at Witness Performance.

My Sister Feather by Olivia Satchel, most human show i saw all year, two performers at their best with two great characters by a great writer. My review at Witness Performance.

The Infirmary, Triage Live Art Collective, dark, light, deep, affecting. My review at Witness Performance.

Calamity Jane. One Eyed Man. Pure joy. My review at Witness Performance.

Looking forward to in 2019
Looking forward to? Dunno. The Cloud Street remount at Malthouse ... my production of The Bacchae at the Courthouse ... big shows I guess ... epic five hour long shows.

SM: I was sitting next to Rob during a Melbourne Festival show. He'd lost his voice and was communicating by writing messages on his phone. At the end of the show, I asked him to tell me his thoughts in an emoji. He nailed it. He still wrote a long and complete review, but that emoji was still perfect.

Carla Donnelly
Critic, podcaster
Across the Aisle

Carla Donnelly

Favourite moments in 2018
2018 saw so many incredible works. My stand outs include Blackie Blackie Brown  – which is essentially the play I never knew I always wanted and could have. Blackie Blackie Brown was an outstanding feat of stage craft; so many things I have never seen on the stage coming together in one riot of unapologetic blackness, super hera-ness and feminism (and death).
The BBB episode.

Sandy Greenwood's performance in Matriarch is one I couldn't stop thinking about for days. In a inter-generational story about exploring cultural identity and trauma, she truly channelled the four women in her family and brought them all into the room with her. Her performance was absolutely mesmerising.

Bighouse Dreaming (Melbourne Fringe killed it this year) was another that stayed on my mind for a long time. An extremely well written and directed play clearly articulating the dehumanisation of Indigenous people in all facets of this colonial world – especially when coming into touch with power. This show (and many others at Fringe) gave me that total wonder of alchemy; how artists can create something from nothing and put it on with very little but deliver works that are so powerful.

Other favourite shows of the year: The Nose by The Bloomshed, Love Song Dedications by Ten Tonne Sparrow, Lone by The Rabble, The Nightingale and the Rose by Little Ones Theatre and The Infirmary by Triage Live Art Collective.

Looking forward to in 2019
Barbara and the Camp Dogs!! The Legend of Queen Kong.

SM: My favourite moment is happening right now as I listen to Across the Aisle. There are so many great discussions about Melbourne theatre. We need to do more to get them all heard far more!

MELBOURNE FESTIVAL: Fire Gardens

MELBOURNE FESTIVAL 2018
Fire Gardens
Compagnie Carabosse
Presented with Royal Botanic Gardens Victoria 
10 October 2018
Royal Botanic Gardens Victoria
to 13 October
www.festival.melbourne

Photos by the amazing Sarah Walker 

Fire Gardens. MIAF 2018. Photo by Sarah Walker

If you don't have a ticket to the Fire Gardens, I don't think there's any chance of getting one. It sold out, and the extra tickets sold out. And it's a flaming reminder that families and groups of friends and all sorts of wonderful people want to go to affordable spectacular events at festivals.

Last night, the Botanic Gardens was full of people rugged up in black coats, and this may be the only festival show many buy tickets for. For many of them MIAF 2018 will always be memories of fire in the the gardens. This kind of event lets so many people experience the spectacle of art; it's so much more exciting than the Moomba fireworks.

My date for the evening was seven-year-old Isiah who totally accepted that the gardens would be full of fire, and live music, and old radios, and swing chairs, and kinetic sculptures made from old clocks that balance on high wires, and "whirlwinds of fire".

Because you are welcome to get close, we could see how the fires were lit, look at the coal in wire baskets, ask what liquid was being poured into the fire pits (acetone), and wonder how deep the water in the lake is and how they light the sculptures floating in the water (by boat; we saw their boats).

It's creepy and magnificent and coming around a corner to see spheres of fire on the lake makes you remember that we say breathtaking because you stop breathing for a moment.

If you've got a ticket, rug up, wear something that isn't black so that you can see your friends in the dark – it IS dark –, explore, sit, and imagine being in every apocalyptic novel you've loved or sci fi world you've imagined.

As no one can take a good phone photo of fire in the dark, here are some of Sarah Walker's amazing photos.

Fire Gardens. MIAF 2018. Photo by Sarah Walker

Fire Gardens. MIAF 2018. Photo by Sarah Walker

Fire Gardens. MIAF 2018. Photo by Sarah Walker

Fire Gardens. MIAF 2018. Photo by Sarah Walker

Fire Gardens. MIAF 2018. Photo by Sarah Walker

Fire Gardens. MIAF 2018. Photo by Sarah Walker

Fire Gardens. MIAF 2018. Photo by Sarah Walker

Fire Gardens. MIAF 2018. Photo by Sarah Walker

Fire Gardens. MIAF 2018. Photo by Sarah Walker

PS. We unintentionally queue jumped when we were getting chips at the end of the night – and are really sorry.

What Melbourne Loved in 2017, part 3

Another two amazing artists who went through MUST and Monash (Fleur and Sarah), more Taylor Mac tears, a controversial show, and a lot of excitement about new writing and emerging artists who are showing us how it's done.

Sarah Walker
Photographer

Sarah Walker. Photo by Sarah Walker

Favourite moments in 2017
I mean, it's kind of unfair that Taylor Mac's A 24-Decade History of Popular Music happened this year because that show was such a seismic event. And because it was so long, there were moments that would otherwise have defined a whole year that I've completely forgotten because so much happened. So much!

Here's a few that spring to mind: the audience in the "isolation chambers" up the back of the Forum getting overexcited and pelting me with pingpong balls during one of the war sequences. Walking through the aisles during the blindfolded hour in Chapter I and seeing all the tiny moments that nobody else would have seen – the hands creeping into other hands, and the heads on shoulders, and the sly little blind kisses. Taylor's imagined deathbed speech from Walt Whitman to Stephen Foster (I want a transcription of that speech so badly). But really, I think my favourite thing of all was the way Taylor smiled at people. When they came up onstage and did a good job. When judy stepped back and watched another performer belt out a solo or a dance piece. When the audience sighed or laughed or cried. I've never seen so much love in a smile. It's the sort of smile you look for your whole life, and Taylor gave it to everyone. It was like the opposite of the hidden kiss in the corner of Mrs Darling's mouth in Peter Pan that Mr Darling could never get. Taylor's love was for everybody.

My other favourite moment was during The Adam Simmons Creative Music Ensemble's The Usefulness of Art concert at fortyfivedownstairs. The whole concert was so suffused with joy and excitement. At the crescendo of the work, Adam was standing in front of the orchestra, furiously conducting, not so much leading the music as wrenching it from the performers – punching the air to bring the sound along with him and as the piece peaked, he let out this yell that was the most cathartic release of energy, and the band crashed around him, and, holy shit, I had goosebumps coursing up and down my whole body and everything was shining.

Looking forward to in 2018
Oh, golly, so much. I can't wait for Blackie Blackie Brown – my boyfriend is working on it and I was in the room for some of the development, and it was just madness. I think it's going to be hysterical and brutal and schlocky and full of life.

I'm also super excited that Stephen Nicolazzo and Patricia Cornelius are going to be erupting onto the mainstage at the MTC. It's about bloody time. Also, Patricia and Julie Forsyth in the same room? Somebody has been raiding my daydreams again. Fuck yeah.

SM: Sarah's name appears the most on this site because she takes the photos that capture what a show is about and she capture how a person looks in that split second that they aren't self conscious of being in front of a camera. Every time.

Fleur Kilpatrick
Playwright, teacher, RRR Smart Arts theatre commentator 

Fleur's birthday. Photo by Sarah Walker

Favourite moments in 2017
One of my favourite things this year was seeing wonderful shows get a remount. This is so rare in Australia and it was so wonderful to see Hello, Goodbye, Happy Birthday head out on tour, Two Jews Walk into a Theatre get a Melbourne Festival season and Zoe Coombs Marr's Trigger Warning make a return to MIFF.

I had never seen Trigger Warning and it was without a doubt one of my highlights. It was extremely clever terms of content but also form, something that so many comedians take as prescribed. Plus it was perhaps the funniest thing I had ever seen.

Another firm favourite was All the Sex I've Ever Had by Mammalian Diving Reflex. This show was so joyful and celebratory. It was a celebration not only of sex but of living and surviving. As the senior participants shared their lives and exploits, a  community quickly formed in the theatre, a community dedicated to celebrating these men and women through their joys and griefs. I left feeling immensely grateful for their generosity, bravery and perseverance.

Looking forward to in 2018
A total delight in 2017 was seeing space created for new works. With that in mind I'm writing my "looking forward to" as a wish list: these were wonderful works that deserve a season or a remount.

Fleur's 2018 wishlist:
1. A season for Natesha Somasundaram's Jeremy and Lucas Buy A Fucking House. It's three-day La Mama exploration sold out. It was so smart, funny and delightful. Programmers, please fight for this one.
2. A return season for Jean Tong's Romeo is not the Only Fruit. This satirical Lesbian pop musical  sold out its Poppy Seed Festival season and racked up critical praise. I want to see this come back to Melbourne but also tour please!
3. A season for Emina Ashman's Make Me A Houri. This was one of the best readings I saw this year. Emina's writing is so beautiful, poetic, dark and all her own. Her writing asks questions of what it means to be a Muslim today, a feminist today, a woman today. Again, programmers, chase her.

SM: I was at Fleur's surprise birthday at All My Friends Were There; that was awesome. I love listening to Fleur and Richard Watts on Smart Arts on Thursday mornings. I also love that she loves teaching undergrads as much as I do.

Scott Gooding
Actor, director 

Scott Gooding

Favourite moments in 2017
Ohhh, saw so much good stuff when I went through my diary. Stand out performance I saw was You're Not Alone by Kim Noble, at Malthouse. Brave, provocative, unflinching and funny as fuck. Whether it was "real" or not, I didn't care. It was great also to see so many people get up in arms about it.

Looking forward to in 2018
Next Wave Festival. Watching this bunch of cutting edge artists get to strut their stuff and show us oldies how it's done. Can't wait.

SM: I got to see Scott on stage again this year  in Jane Miller's Cuckoo; he's an actor who finds the heart of his characters and lets the emotions they try to hide drive them.

part 2
part 1
2016
2014
2013
2012

Give: Andi's Lyme Light

Andi Snelling is a Melbourne actor. She's great. She's also dealing with chronic illness and needs some help.

If every SM reader gave $1 (or $10), it would help get her closer to her goal. Here's the link to her MyCause page.





Here are some pics (by Sarah Walker) from her not-a-spare-seat-in-the-house fundraiser at the Wesley Ann.

Andi Snelling with Tash York. Photo by Sarah Walker

Astrid & Otto. Photo by Sarah Walker

Alia Vryens & Colin Craig. Photo by Sarah Walker

Dolly Diamond. Photo by Sarah Walker

Andi Snelling with Charlotte Strantzen & raffle prizes. Photo by Sarah Walker

MELBOURNE FESTIVAL: Taylor Mac, Chapter IV & Manifesting Pussy

MELBOURNE FESTIVAL 2017
A 24-Decade History of Popular Music, Chapter IV: 1957–present
Taylor Mac, Pomegranate Arts and Nature's Darlings
13 October 2017
Forum Theatre
www.festival.melbourne

Taylor Mac. Photo by Sarah Walker

Is it really time to wash off the Taylor Mac glitter and go back to real life?

Every so often a work changes how we see and make theatre. We are now post–A 24-Decade History of Popular Music and we're going to see its influence on our stages for a very long time.

Every so often a work changes how we see our world and we're going to see its influence in our lives for a very long time.

Taylor Mac, Steffanie Christi'an Mosley. Photo by Sarah Walker

Taylor describes the 24-hour experience as a "radical faerie realness ritual sacrifice" and adds that the audience is the sacrifice. Back in Chapter I, we had no idea of how much of ourselves we were going to willingly sacrifice or how much we had to let go of.

James Tigger! Ferguson. Photo by Sarah Walker

I'm still struggling to find the words that come close to describing the joy and absolute fucking happiness that this work has created. And the uncontrollable tears – that start again as soon as I try to explain and understand why I'm still crying.

When the Forum fire curtain lifted, we were heading to the 1960s – the decade many of us were born. Taylor descended from the gods reprising his rock "Turn! Turn! Turn!" (Matt Ray's musical arrangements deserve their own multi-page review). Looking Jacqui Kennedy–esque with polka dots, soup cans and a USA-flag dress (Machine Dazzle's costume designs also deserve pages), judy was harnessed to matching polka-dot pop-art angel wings, which Machine had made the day before. With finger guns and "BANG", they were a tribute to the Art Deco angel on the fire curtain and a response to gun control – something the political right got right in Australia.

Taylor Mac. Photo by Sarah Walker

And it was time for us white people to flee back to the suburbs at the sides of the room and embarrassingly express our white guilt to the point that we finally dump it and start understanding and sharing our fucking power.

I knew Chapter IV was going to be something else, but I had no idea.

Chanon Judson, James Welsby. Photo by Sarah Walker

I started crying at Bob Dylan's "A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall". I think this was before Nina Simone's "Mississippi  Goddam", when I knew I needed to get to the bar and fill up my water bottle and marvel at the waterproof blue mascara I bought in Tokyo and never thought I'd wear.

Taylor Mac, Viva DeConcini. Photo by Sarah Walker

As I wasn't on a media ticket, I didn't take notes, I turned off my devices and drank gin – leaving Chapter IV a magnificent blur of tears, rock, glitter and joy. (But please read Cameron in The Age and Steph in the Guardian.)

There was Daniel and I squealing at "show tops".

There was the Cold War giant inflatable USA and USSR cocks floating around the audience.

Photo by Sarah Walker

There was slow dancing with Katie at the queer prom to destroy the credibility of a homophobic singer.

Taylor Mac. Photo by Sarah Walker

There was hugging Richard during "Purple Rain" – and only now remembering that it was a section about back room sex parties. But it was the late1980s: a time when friends were dying from AIDS. Taylor was wearing a head piece of skulls screaming in clouds and a coat made of cassette tapes, we'd already sung "Oh Superman", and I didn't know if I wasn't coping or if it was the most powerful hour of my life.

And I  couldn't imagine how my heart was going to melt as we made our way to the present with a manifestation of pussy.

Taylor Mac. Photo by Sarah Walker

Bitch and Animal's "Pussy Manifesto" (look it up; I want it in search engines rather than an easy click) – "Let Pussy manifest and let freedom sing!".

The Womb. Photo by Sarah Walker

Lesbians moved only onto the stage, with beers and a barbeque. Lesbians were front and centre. Without jokes, without question. Women were celebrated. Pussy (I'm even saying "pussy" and I was such a "cunt" reclaimer) was celebrated. For a couple of hours, pussy was central to our world.

Stop reading and try to replace every reference to cock and male power in your world with pussy. Now take away every bit of language that uses women, pussy and cunt as an insult and a reference to weakness. For the last hours of this show, that world existed.

 Taylor Mac. Photo by Sarah Walker

(I nearly didn't wear my #pussyhat when we were making things in Chapter 1, but the company manager said "Yes" when I suggested it. I'll also be saying "Yes!" a lot more from now on.)

 Machine Dazzle, Taylor Mac, Matt Ray. Photo by Sarah Walker

For 24 hours, we'd been part of seeing how communities are built from marginalised, ignored and shamed people being torn apart. We'd been sacrificed, we sacrificed others and everyone who was there became a community where otherness didn't exist.

At the company's In Conversation on Saturday, Taylor said, "Manifest the world that we want by creating the world we want."

We were so involved and so safe that I want to see it all again tomorrow, even if just to see the contributions of the 32 people who came with the company and every other artist who is a part of this experience (their names are in the program). But I suspect I'd be just as involved.

Photo by Sarah Walker

For the last hour Taylor wore a dress made from a giant vulva and sang his own work. The band were gone – one left every hour for the last 24 hours. We sang along and I have never cried so much in a thearte.

I washed most of the glitter off – the glitter I put on in the Forum bathrooms with other women who also hadn't worn glitter since we were in our 20s – and am back in day-to-day life, with a pile of work waiting for me.

Photo by Sarah Walker

What's left to say when I experienced the theatre experience I've been waiting my life for?

But perhaps life is going to be different. I'm still going to roll my eyes at dull theatre, but I'm going to:

• Spend less time alone. Maybe with the new friends I made at this show.
• Talk more with people I don't know.
• Dance in public.
• Wear all the high heels I have in my cupboard.
• Wear more blue mascara.
• Sing "Purple Rain". 

 Machine Dazzle, Matt Ray. Photo by Sarah Walker

PS. Can we have a 24-hour long recording, please?

MELBOURNE FESTIVAL: Taylor Mac, Chapter III

MELBOURNE FESTIVAL 2017
A 24-Decade History of Popular Music, Chapter III: 1896–1956
Taylor Mac, Pomegranate Arts and Nature's Darlings
13 October 2017
Forum Theatre
www.festival.melbourne

Last chance to be a part of thus magnificent experience is TONIGHT at The Wrap.

Taylor Mac. Photo by Sarah Walker

As I'm still grinning inanely or crying uncontrollably from chapters III and IV, here are some more of Sarah Walker's incredible photos.

Taylor Mac & the exhibitionists. Photo by Sarah Walker

Taylor Mac & men who would've been conscripted. Photo by Sarah Walker.

Taylor Mac & the youngest and oldest person at the show. Photo by Sarah Walker

Taylor Mac w Declan Greene & Matt Lutton. Photo by Sarah Walker

Taylor Mac. Photo by Sarah Walker

The burlesque dancers. Photo by Sarah Walker

Taylor Mac . Photo by Sarah Walker

Mama Alto. Photo by Sarah Walker

Taylor Mac & Does someone know this amazing woman's name? Photo by Sarah Walker

Taylor Mac & Matt Ray. Photo by Sarah Walker

Neil Morris & Brent Watkin. Photo by Sarah Walker

Taylor Mac & the straight men. Photo by Sarah Walker

Taylor Mac. Photo by Sarah Walker

Jack Beeby giving birth. Photo by Sarah Walker

Viva DeConcini (#QueerGrannySquare). Photo by Sarah Walker

Taylor Mac . Photo by Sarah Walker

Taylor Mac . Photo by Sarah Walker

The flee to the suburbs. Photo by Sarah Walker