DOMINO
Attic Erratic
19 June 2013
Abbotsford Convent
to 29 June
atticerratic.com
Young independent company Attic Erratic started performing and working together in 2010 and are well on their way to being on of those companies who you have to see what they do next.
I missed quite a bit of their early stuff, but not anymore. If you don't know them, start with DOMINO.
Firstly, it's on at the gorgeous Abbotsford Convent in the slightly creepy Industrial School (follow the signs near Lentil as Anything – and arrive early to eat at Lentil as Anything) and they sell warm and spicy mulled wine with currents. Winner already.
In a post-apocalyptic dystopian future of forever night, five young men are alone, angry, bored and desperate. Light and hope are things of dreams, but they play a game about the end of the world, not knowing if there's a line between reality and myth.
With a bar and a huge space to use (the same space where a rat up-staged everyone at the 2012 Last Tuesday Society's Xmas special), the design team (Laura Harris: set and light, Lucy Welsh: projection, Zoe Rouse and Mia Zielinski: costume, Tom Pitts: sound and music) have created a space that begs to be entered, while creating a sense of nervous fear with dark corners and unseen rooms where wolves can hide.
Director Danny Delahunty lets the creative and beautiful language of Melbourne writer Giuliano Ferla's script lead the story and define a world that's so far from ours that the rhythm and meaning of English has evolved. It's like a memory of language; it makes sense, but isn't quite right. And it's a world without women. A world without easy comfort and the eternal life of procreation has to be found elsewhere.
Actors Alex Duncan, Joseph Green, Kane Felsinger, Matt Hickey and Spencer Scholz relish the work and let us see beyond their facade of bravado and toughness. Nerves could be seen on the preview I saw, but they have nothing to be nervous about.
This is a powerful work that questions masculinity and the future of all of us in a time when playing the "gender card" brings calls of unfair.
This will go up on AussieTheatre next week.
Showing posts with label tom pitts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label tom pitts. Show all posts
22 June 2013
06 October 2012
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
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
07 October 2011
FRINGE review: Spring Awakening
Spring Awakening
Monash Uni Student Theatre and Monash University Academy of Performing Arts
1 October 2011
Alexander Theatre, Monash University
to 8 October
www.monash.edu/mapa/
Monash Uni Student Theatre and Monash University Academy of Performing Arts
1 October 2011
Alexander Theatre, Monash University
to 8 October
www.monash.edu/mapa/
With over 60 Monash Uni students and recent graduates involved in every element of this production, it would be tedious to mention everyone who helps make this Spring Awakening so memorable; so, you'll have to read the program – and the only way to do that is to see this show.
Spring Awakening won Tony Awards in 2007 and is credited with bringing young audiences back to Broadway with its heart-breaking characters and rock-infused score. Its story is from a 1892 German play that was banned for confronting taboos like masturbation, first-sex, homosexuality, incest and violence. We may write openly about these topics now, but for all our contemporary knowledge, the pain and confusion about confronting any of these is still as strong; so, the music is a juxtaposition of angry, hurting rock straight from the hearts of its young characters.
If the thought of a student-theatre musical leaves you shuddering, banish such fear. Monash Uni Student Theatre (MUST) continues to believe in young artists and creates a structure and atmosphere that lets them create productions that surprise and delight.
The core creative team – Yvonne Virsik, Cassandra Fumi, Tom Pitts, Kristen Adriaan, Jason Lehane (director, assistant director, musical director, choreographer, designer) – start with the skills of their artists to create a production that's led by emotion. What results is a musical that's as striking and moving as any Tony winner, but never tries to be Broadway.
Spring Awakening is one of my favourite musicals from recent years and MUST's production is – I have to say it – a must. You might see versions with slicker dance and more mature voices, but you won't catch one with more heart.
And, really, the Clayton campus is a 20-minute drive from the city and there's parking at the door. Don't use its distance as an excuse.
Photo by Sarah Walker.
This review originally appeared on AussieTheatre.com
Interview with Yvonne about directing Spring Awakening.
Interview with Yvonne about directing Spring Awakening.
11 September 2011
Review: Tell them it rained too hard
Tell them that it rained too hard
Attic Erratic
2 September 2011
Studio Theatre, Gasworks Arts Park
to 10 September
www.atticerratic.com
While Platform Youth are confronting the perception of teenage sluts in Tenderness, independent company Attic Erratic give a very different 20-something view of the slut-or-virgin paradigm in Tell them that it rained too hard.
Tom Pitts wrote the text and music for this piece. The highlight of the night is how beautifully the music works with the text and how Pitts and director Celeste Cody use the combination of text and music to create the mood and move the drama of story.
But the text suffers from overwriting and seems caught up with telling us the sexual issues we should be thinking about, rather than showing us the stories of these characters, who never seem free to really tell us what's going on in their hearts.
As each generation discovers sex, they tend to act like no one did it before them. (I know I did.) This work claims to boldly explore the "contentious" and "still divisive" issues of sexuality, promiscuity and monogamy. It begins with a dream about harlots and a lecture about the free love of the 60s and how it people can't have an uncomplicated shag. But it doesn't go on to address issues of sexuality, promiscuity or monogamy.
I left thinking that the politics and outlook underpinning this world are just so straight. Straight as in heterosexual, straight as in conservative and straight as in as vanilla as cheap, white home-brand ice cream.
The promiscuous chick dresses like a Grey St hooker and has sex with two (!) men, while her best friend risks her nice safe marriage by having a pash with an ex. This may be a typicailish 20ish story, but it would be a far better story if it wasn't claiming to be unflinching and bold. If you're going to look at the issues around being a slut (a word that is slowly being re-claimed as a positive and empowering word) and how you can enjoy a fuck because it's fun, please at least glance at promiscuity (that's a LOT of partners) and the alternatives to monogamy that many people joyfully embrace.
Tell them that it rained too hard didn't speak to me, but it's driven by a cast whose honesty and passion for the story reminded me that it is reflection of the their world and it will speak loudly and strongly to others.
Attic Erratic
2 September 2011
Studio Theatre, Gasworks Arts Park
to 10 September
www.atticerratic.com
While Platform Youth are confronting the perception of teenage sluts in Tenderness, independent company Attic Erratic give a very different 20-something view of the slut-or-virgin paradigm in Tell them that it rained too hard.
Tom Pitts wrote the text and music for this piece. The highlight of the night is how beautifully the music works with the text and how Pitts and director Celeste Cody use the combination of text and music to create the mood and move the drama of story.
But the text suffers from overwriting and seems caught up with telling us the sexual issues we should be thinking about, rather than showing us the stories of these characters, who never seem free to really tell us what's going on in their hearts.
As each generation discovers sex, they tend to act like no one did it before them. (I know I did.) This work claims to boldly explore the "contentious" and "still divisive" issues of sexuality, promiscuity and monogamy. It begins with a dream about harlots and a lecture about the free love of the 60s and how it people can't have an uncomplicated shag. But it doesn't go on to address issues of sexuality, promiscuity or monogamy.
I left thinking that the politics and outlook underpinning this world are just so straight. Straight as in heterosexual, straight as in conservative and straight as in as vanilla as cheap, white home-brand ice cream.
The promiscuous chick dresses like a Grey St hooker and has sex with two (!) men, while her best friend risks her nice safe marriage by having a pash with an ex. This may be a typicailish 20ish story, but it would be a far better story if it wasn't claiming to be unflinching and bold. If you're going to look at the issues around being a slut (a word that is slowly being re-claimed as a positive and empowering word) and how you can enjoy a fuck because it's fun, please at least glance at promiscuity (that's a LOT of partners) and the alternatives to monogamy that many people joyfully embrace.
Tell them that it rained too hard didn't speak to me, but it's driven by a cast whose honesty and passion for the story reminded me that it is reflection of the their world and it will speak loudly and strongly to others.
This review originally appeared on AussieTheatre.com
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