Review: Live On Air With Poet Laureate Telia Nevile

MELBOURNE FRINGE 2012

Live On Air With Poet Laureate Telia Nevile 

28 September 2012

Fringe Hub, Lithuanian Club

to 5 October

melbournefringe.com.au

I'm so not a poet

I can't rhyme for shit

So cheer out loud and thank the gods for Telia Nevile:

the Poet Laureate

We last met her back in high school

full of hope that love would come

and together they'd recite and write

and find words that they could pun

As she grew and travelled

love still slipped from her grasp

A poet's heart is special

it needs a love that lasts

Now she's on our airways

on the illegal pirate dial

It's like a podcast, but for rebels

and guaranteed to make you smile

and laugh, snort and guffaw 

and wipe away good tears

if you're the type who likes to read 

reviews that artists fear

Our poet still resents her normal family

And been on many dates gone wrong

But someone must be listening

to fall for her po-mo love song

Donning frightening fluffy slippers 

and pjs brown and tartin

she broadcasts each night to October 5

from her living room that's spartan

If you still watch Buffy

and fancy Toby or Josh from the telly

This gorgeous show is just for you

and it's directed by Matt Kelly

Come linguists all, you'll love this show

if you're witty, smart or cunning

There's naughtiness and lonely pain

and jokes far better than my punning

It's for everyone who cares for words

who reads, writes or creates

It affirms that grammar always rules

and that we should correct illiterate mates

Don't miss our adored poet

if you scrawl, word process or typewrite

You can buy tickets at the door

or book on the Melbourne Fringe website

And for more wordy love don't miss Wordgasm Smackdown on 6 October, where SM favourites like Ash Flanders, Ben McKenzie and Zoey Dawson will join Telia in a Fight Club with words.

PS: Telia, we need to talk about your use of en dashes.

This appeared on AussieTheatre.com

Review: Choir Girl

MELBOURNE FRINGE 2012
Choir Girl
28 September 2012
Fringe Hub, Lithuanian Club
to 13 October
melbournefringe.com.au

In recent Fringes and festivals, Sarah Collins has brought us gorgeous tales about adorable misfits who never lose hope. Choir Girl is as achingly funny and beautifully written as Nothing Extraordinary Ever Happens in Toowoomba (Ever) and Donna and Damo, but it's a much darker story about a woman lost in loneliness.

Choir Girl Susan is alone in a house that's too big for her because her safely-gay housemate is on a Disney cruise, but promised to bring her back mouse ears, so that's ok. Luckily she's found a choir in Sandringham that wants new members and, despite the very long bus trip, she's an alto who understands the importance of blending and her 1992 local Eisteddfod–winning song shows off her voice.

For anyone who hasn't sung in a community choir, Susan's world is so accurate that I could name similar people from choirs I'd been in. There are always the "kissy kissies" who suck up to the conductor, the ones who can't sing, the ones who think they should be soloists, the men who bring cheap supermarket supper, the nightmare discussions about how much to spend on Kris Kringle and sopranos who make fun of altos. Ok, I added that last one because I know that sopranos ALWAYS make fun of altos, even those with lovely alto voices like Susan's.

Choir Girl has a smaller cast of characters than Collins's previous works, which brings us much closer to Susan than we were to Toowoomba's Kevin John and Wren or even Donna or Damo, and where as her past characters always acted from love and hope, Susan's shyness/illness leaves her acting from selfishness and hope. This makes her harder to adore, but irresistible to watch.

Her loneliness makes you so want to love her, but her cringe-worthy behaviour leaves you grateful that she's not your friend. Being torn by a character makes watching her obsession with the choir accompanist hurt – there's a $2-shop doll that nearly made me cry – as you want her to stop embarrassing herself, but want to see what she's going to do even more.

Susan's world is gloomy and what better way to light up her darkness than with a Greek-like chorus; actually, a choir – a female choir in burgundy uniforms, white tights and black patent shoes. Choir Girl was originally written without a choir, until director Celeste Cody (Attic Erratic) came on board. It's now impossible to imagine this story told in any other way.

Without breaking into Susan's isolation, the choir are both society's eyes and Susan's inner world. They sing schmaltzy love songs with her when Susan needs them, but they whisper and watch and re-inforce how much Susan isn't in harmony. By giving her company and real music (arranged by Tom Pitts) that isn't on her discman, Cody's strong direction ensures that a world that sings Britney Spears love songs is always out of Susan's reach and creates an onstage voice that isn't Susan's.

Choir Girl is different from Collins's earlier writing. It's still driven by hope, but I was surprised by its darkness – and equally as thrilled.  Susan's story is a bit sad, but its telling is so funny and full of heart that she'll stay with you long after the final applause – and you'll be singing Britney songs for days.

Open Fringe programs help wonderful theatre like this to find an audience. I may never have discovered her writing without a Fringe, and that's a terrible thought.


This review appeared on AussieTheatre.com

Review: Hello my name is

MELBOURNE FRINGE 2012
Hello my name is
Theatre Works and Sans Hotel/Nicola Gunn
19 September 2012
Theatre Works
to 29 September
theatreworks.org.au

Hello, my name is Anne-Marie and Nicola Gunn made me confront one of my greatest public fears.

Like many theatre goers, I like the safe dark space that secures my anonymity from the performers in the lights.  Creator and performer Gunn likes to bring us into the same space. After all, what's the point of performing if there isn't an audience to share it with?

Audience participation! I can hear you running away. Come back. It's ok. Really. This show really is safe and easy and fun. Except what she made me do.

Hello my name is finds us in a white and welcoming community hall. The plastic chairs are in a non-contronting circle, there's free tea and coffee for a donation, and we're not sure if we're booked for a games night, scrap booking class, breath and yoga forgiveness workshop or an AA meeting.

As soon as Nicola says 'Hello, my name is Nicola' in multiple languages, there's no doubt that the night is going to be far more curious and interesting than any community learn to crochet class. Part personal confession, part astute social commentary and part absurdly gorgeous vision, she takes us beyond the passive aggressive bitterness of a community worker into the passion and frustration of an artist and exposes the beauty of conga lines, pink Care Bears, hand holding and falling glitter.

But what did I have to do in public?

There was a karaoke machine, so I sat in a mid-distance spot, hoping to project nonchalance rather than the truth that I'd rather flash than sing in public. I was safe. Then there was the dancing. I'm blessed with the inability to move with any semblance of grace or coordination, but everyone took part and even I could keep up. I hoped to be allowed to play Scrabble or to knit in public (so my theatre experience really would be like sitting on my couch), but I wasn't that lucky. 

When given paper and my choice of pens/pencils/charcoal, I was thrilled at the the thought of writing in public. But one doesn't write with charcoal. And as the realisation hit, I was ready to jitterbug to that karaoke machine and sing "Wake me up before you go go" before I was ready to DRAW in public. 

It wasn't pretty. And anyone sitting near me will confirm that it's best for everyone to keep drawing implements away from me. But I did it, and if art is about exposing and confronting fears, then Nicola Gunn re-defined cathartis for me.

Hello my name is leaves no space to hide in the dark, but don't be scared of the light because this hilarious, confronting, beautiful and weird show will leave you smiling and feeling so much better for the experience.

This appeared on AussieTheatre.com