Showing posts with label Ash Flanders. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ash Flanders. Show all posts

08 December 2021

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

Middle aged man in a gold beauty face mask
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.

7 performers in farm clothes looking at a farmer
The Bloomshed. "Animal Farm". We will see it one day.



16 December 2019

What Melbourne Loved in 2019, part 9

Last call to have your voice heard and share your love for shows and artists who may not have got meaninless stars this year.

Today we hear from SM favourite Ash, and Eugyeene and Cathy.

Ash Flanders
Theatrical annoyance

Ash Flanders. Photo by Pia Johnson, defaced by FaceApp

Favourite moments of 2019.
 I've been in hiding most of the year due to an ongoing legal skirmish with Anthony Callea's people (those people have no sense of humour) but the first thing that jumped to mind was watching Ellen Burstyn go rogue in 33 Variations, directed by Gary Abrahams.

Ok, let me take you there. Ellen has just noticed her daughter's (Lisa McCune) skirt is unzipping itself onstage and calls her over – by her character name, obvs – and says something like, "Your skirt, darling," and then the Comedy Theatre is SILENT as she wrangles the zip back into place. Ellen knows we'll wait – and we do. Lisa's a total pro, casually moving her hair out of the way, waiting calmly as if this is something they've done a thousand times in rehearsal, something deliberately placed to suggest something about the mother-daughter relationship. But then Ellen, this Broadway ICON, struggles for a second to remember what she was meant to be talking about. So Lisa asks her a leading question, in character of course, and suddenly Ellen's back on track again. It was a very small thing – 15 seconds tops – and besides the sheer gay drama of it all (OMG, first she had to deal with Regan MacNeil and now THIS?!). I loved seeing the solidarity between the performers and the way both of these people were taking care of each other. Actors being kind to other actors is my new favourite thing; I'll have to try it sometime.

And in the opposite camp I of course loved watching the entirely solo Zahra Newman (certainly not helped by those clumsy stage managers dropping water bottles carelessly every night) skillfully create the nightmare we call home in DG's Wake In Fright. The performance was so considered and arch and nasty and perfect. Of course it's boring for me to like Declan's work – especially because everyone does and I'm a contrary piece of shit – but that guy really does make stuff I enjoy...for now.

But, all in all, this was a quiet year for me and theatre. I loved what I saw but I didn't see nearly enough. I loved doing The Temple with some of my all time favourite performers and my new favourite Irish theatre company, Pan Pan. I also had a blast teaching some performance writing skills to students back at my old uni – and watching them take their own work onto the stage almost melted my heart.

Oh, I also saw a stunning piece of live art where my niece married Christ out in Keysborough; I think the work was called Layla's Confirmation.

Looking forward to in 2020.
I feel like everyone I know is even busier next year and I'm thrilled about it. Stoked for the Malthouse season,  especially Stephen Nicolazzo directing Loaded, my one true love Paul Capsis in Go To Hell and the verbatim show Is This A Room has me really excited. I'm also hoping to somehow see Anthem and The Rabble's Unwoman in 2020 (PLEASE LET THESE HAPPEN AGAIN*) as life got in the way this year. Side note: go listen to Emma Valente's story in Maeve Marsden's Queerstories podcast (not stage related, but damn it's good). Selfishly I'm really looking forward to presenting a bunch of new things that I've been spending this year writing.

SM: I too love Emma's Queerstory. Queerstories is one of my favourite car podcasts. But this is about Ash. I totally dug The Temple, especially when people in the audience had no idea what was going on and tried to find an easy story. But my moment with Ash was convincing him that he had enjoyed some theatre this year.

*Anthem is at Perth and Sydney festivals. Why The Rabble are not at every international festivsal is beyond my understanding.

Eugyeene Teh
Theatre maker and designer

Eugyeene Teh. Photo by Antoine Debrill

Favourite moments of 2019.
The Rabble’s Unwoman: timely, meditative and important work that needs to be experienced by everyone. Emma Valente and Kate Davis’s confidently composed images were searing. Yumi Umiumare’s solo performance of suffering in part 3 was a hard watch, but visceral and sensational, and, though wordless, speaks volumes and for me, was the moment (albeit 45 minutes worth of a moment) of 2019.

Jo Lloyd’s Overture for busting the male-dominated lens that has established our stage culture, particularly in the world of dance. It blatantly mocks the male gaze and belittles their conventions in a lighthearted, unrestricted reframing and celebration of women’s bodies.

Zoey Dawson’s Australian Realness at Malthouse. Having worked on her deliciously surreal plays before, I was looking forward to this one and it still managed to surprise and unhinge me, and really made me think about perceptions of reality.

Emma Hall’s World Problems: a beautifully crafted and gentle reflection on who we are among a generational existential crisis.

Anchuli Felicia King’s The Golden Shield at MTC: a rare piece of writing presented by a mainstage company that doesn’t portray China and its people as a force to be feared, but ingeniously flips the frame to reveal real, multi-dimensional Chinese people and their reckoning with a couple of American jerks. It is a play that decolonizes through subtexts. For me, it isn’t just a clever, fast-paced legal thriller. It is all about communicating and understanding a cultural language – something this country gravely lacks

Balit Liwurruk: Strong Girl at St Martins: a powerful and emotional declaration by 12 young Indigenous women on what it is to be a "strong girl".

Finucane and Smith’s The Rapture, Part II: an impassioned cry for help on behalf of our dying planet, and a genuine and urgent beckoning for real action, delivered by the iconic Moira Finucane, who just returned from watching the ice melt in Antartica.

The Very Good Looking Initiative’s Batmania at Melbourne Fringe: a very weird and hallucinatory show that really fucked with conventional theatrical form and offered an exciting glimpse into the future of theatre.

Jean Tong and Lou Wall’s Oh No! Satan Stole my Pineal Gland, from another company that is changing the idea of theatre. Apart from an extremely enjoyable night of ridiculousness, it’s also the winner of the "best title" award.

Andi Snelling’s Happy-Go-Wrong was an incredibly moving and beautiful celebration of life!

Looking forward to in 2020.
Susie Dee and Patricia Cornelius’s Do Not Go Gentle...  I missed the original season and always wished I didn’t.

Kim Ho’s The Great Australian Play, because Kim Ho and a horse. And what it means to be "Australian" and "Great".

Ra Chapman’s K-Box, obvs.

I was very fortunate to hear Stephen Armstrong (creative director of Asia TOPA) speak, in a small room at Tokyo Festival, very clearly about why Australia needs to connect with its Asian neighbours and why it is so important re-balance its cultural identity away from a dominant white identity. Therefore, all things Asia TOPA, particularly Double Delicious, Sipat Lawin’s Are You Ready to Take the Law into Your Own Hands?, post and Hong Kong Repertory Theatre’s Oedipus Schmoedipus, Akira Kasai’s Pollen Revolution and Mallika Sarabhai’s SVA Kranti: The Revolution Within.

SM: I remember the first show I saw that Eugeeyne designed; he takes every bit of subtext and theme and creates a physical world that lets you understand so much in a glance, while always bringing his own remarkable and distinct aesthetic. He's been doing amazing things away from Melbourne this year, so my best moments are easily talking to him before and after shows.


Cathy Hunt
Director, dramaturg

Cathy Hunt

Favourite moments of 2019.
Counting and Cracking, Belvoir at Sydney Town Hall, Sydney Festival: the epic scale of the storytelling knocked my socks off; the way each strand was woven in and the whole festival experience of it. This is a Sydney I recognise, where almost everybody has a strong tie to someplace else, with Coogee Beach and people who don’t understand their own family’s whole story yet because all they have known is this place. The moment before the end of Act 2 when one character was about to get on a refugee boat bound for Australia, and the whole audience was taut, you could feel extreme anxiety on his behalf, knowing what might happen. Beautiful and big and somehow still simple.

Harry Potter and the Cursed Child. I queued with my friend Shannon one Sunday morning in January for free tickets to final dress rehearsals, we were numbers 500 and 501 in the snaking queue. Melbourne provided and it did not disappoint. I particularly loved the immersiveness of the staging, Paula Arundell as Hermione and Gillian Cosgriff, who was supreme in an unnamed role. But I say no more…

Barbara and The Camp Dogs, Malthouse and Belvoir directed by Leticia Cáceres written by Ursula Yovich and Alana Valentine. Truly stunning, raw, roughly beautiful and incredibly brave production that broke through defences and spoke straight to the heart about how simultaneously destructive and creative we can be as human beings. Powerful piece claiming the space to get angry and not shying away from the underlying reasons that keep producing that anger, underlining First Nations sovereignty while cranking out superb tunes and putting the audience on saggy couches like in any run down pub. Loved this!!

You’re Safe Till 2024, by David Finnigan. ventured to Bunjil Place on a stormy night to see David freak out a small and select audience with his theatre science presentation of the "Great Acceleration", which has occurred since mid-last century, including a truly terrifying visual explanation using water bottles and a Coles "recyclable plastic" bag of how chickens have stacked it on since 1945.

Wake in Fright at Malthouse. Declan Greene and Zahra Newman's nightmare journey through an Australia that felt all too horribly recognisable. Stunning technically and with a virtuosic flexible performance by Zahra as the narrator desperate for a drink of water who keeps having booze chucked unwittingly down their throat. Incredible collaboration from all involved.

View from a Bridge at MTC directed stunningly, sparely by Iain Sinclair with the heart-rendingly genuine performance of Zoe Terakes as Catherine.

World Problems by Emma Hall at fortyfivedownstairs, especially the moment when the memories tumbled over into the future and things started going awry, the fantastical imaginings of that whilst the effort of putting together a trampoline was enacted. (The night I went we got to go to a sustainable food workshop after, with permaculturist Kat Lavers and I took home her mum’s lime pickle: big highlight)

The Other Place by Christopher Bryant at Theatre Works directed surprisingly by Jess Dick and performed with precision and energy by the ensemble of five women. This play took so many circular routes towards tracing, mapping and imagining the different destinies of Betty Burstall and Buzz Goodbody. The way it kept not explaining, never being able to explain but just making another pass at exploring one possibility as to why some of us go one way, step out of the room and others are able to flourish despite every adversity, moved me so much. As did the writing in its choice of the stories told and the multiple modes of representation, even just the attempt to forge a connection and the focus on these two particular women’s inner and outer lives. Design in the large space was innovative and entertaining but I can imagine another incarnation of the play in a smaller space, like the rebuilt La Mama…

Pomona at Red Stitch directed by Gary Abrahams: a strange, potent production in which the choice to range the cast around the side of the space to bear witness intensified the exploration of violence. Such a stellar cast and great to see Jessica Clarke, Julia Grace and Artemis Ioannides be differently brilliant on that stage.

Control by Keziah Warner directed so intelligently by Julian Meyrick at Red Stitch. Brilliant writing exploring the ways we shape and structure each other and are unavoidably shaped and structured by our situations. Each of three parts so different from each other but gorgeous interrelationships in each, particularly in the last part where Esta (Naomi Rukavina) and Isabelle (Christine O’Neill) inhabit and subvert the pupil/teacher and servant/master power dynamics.

Thigh Gap at La Mama written by Jamaica Zuanetti directed by Alice Darling. Afrenetic fever dream looking at unattainable body standards self-imposed and friend-policed, performed excellently by Veronica Thomas and Lauren Mass. It went beyond issues and became performatively extreme. The physical comedy around the sudden serendipity of drunkly discovering a baguette is a moment I won’t forget.

UnWoman by The Rabble at The Substation: a work so entirely dramaturgically complete, supremely satisfying and symbolically resonant as if carved out of the stones that Yumi Umimare birthed in the final part of the triptych. Also very funny on the way through, thanks to Dana Miltins and Mary Helen Sussman in the second part, waiting for their unnamed procedure ,and the strange soporific forest of the pregnant women in their round containment.

Looking forward to in 2020.
Red Stitch: A new production of Feather in the Web by the brilliant and hilarious Nick Coyle directed by Declan Greene. I saw it in Sydney when it opened and need to see this incarnation happening as part of Midsumma. Orlando by Sarah Ruhl directed by Stephen Nicolazzo. Anatomy of a Suicide by Alice Birch directed by the inimitable and wonderful Jenny Kemp,.

Asia TOPA: The Seen and Unseen – a collaboration by Melbourne based and Balinese theatre makers designed by Euygeene Teh lighting by Jenny Hector and dramaturgy by Adena Jacobs.

What Every Girl Should Know a new play by Monica Byrne set in 1914 in a Catholic reformatory,  at Brunswick Mechanics in February. Produced by Between the Buildings, directed by me, designed by Eloise Kent and sound designed by Jess Keeffe.

SM: Cathy's measured and help back direction of Love/Chamberlain at Theatre Works got into the hearts of its creators, on and off the stage, and  misjudged women it was written about. She removed the tabloid sensationalist lens and explored how and why women who dare step away from expectations are judged and hounded until they break.

16 May 2019

Review: The Temple

The Temple
Malthouse Theatre and Pan Pan
8 May 2019
Beckett Theatre
to 26 May
\malthousetheatre.com.au

The Temple. Photo by Pia Johnson

I went into The Temple knowing as little as I could about it. I left not knowing much more.

But I know a theatre reviewer having a week when they couldn't write would fit in very well on that stage.

The Malthouse co-production with Ireland's Pan Pan theatre ( Playing The Dane, 2011) was developed in rehearsals by director Gavin Quinn and the cast – Aljin Abella, Ash Flanders, Mish Grigor, Marcus McKenzie and Genevieve Giuffre. Guiffre replaced Nicola Gunn who worked on the development.

There's a line where process and on-stage look-at-me indulgence smash together and create art. The Temple does this, but it's far more successful when it fails and collapses into almost incomprehensible chaos.

The Temple is whatever it needs to be. With yellow walls, cheap chairs and a table filled with too-bright cordials to drink (designer Aedín Cosgrove), it could be a church, an addiction meeting, a reality game show or a residential therapy centre. Or whatever you want it to be.

It's every work training session I've been forced to go to, every conference, every bloody yoga retreat I chose to go to, every hope that maybe some intense time with strangers will be fun or enlightening or bearable. They're not. Strangers are the worst. Strangers who know they can be whatever and whoever they want to be without consequences are more the worst.

Each character is a version of the actor. Maybe turned up a lot. Maybe nudged down a smidge. Maybe just without their off switch. Their stories are as likely to be true as they are fiction created by someone else. Their behaviour is at best frustrating, which is often harder to deal with than when they are mean.

It's selfish behaviours without the fear of being cruel. Imagine being able to do what you want and say exactly what you think without the fear of consequence or repercussion? Maybe a reviewer doesn't fit in on that stage.

Drink The Temple Kool-Aid. Even if you don't know the reference. Even if you don't like it or have any idea what it's all about.

06 December 2018

What Melbourne Loved in 2018, part 3

It's time to hear from regulars Ash and Daniel L. And a first time visit from Jane Miller, who's been written about on SM from the very early days.

Ash Flanders
a festival of dangerous ideas dressed in stained pyjamas

Ash Flanders/Norman Bates. Selfie. 

Favourite moments in 2018
Getting to see Abigail's Party on the mainstage – the biggest stage MTC has – was my favourite night at the theatre this year. Stephen Nicolazzo took an older (although to me, it's canon) play now largely associated with community theatre and reminded me why it was still relevant. There's nothing more timeless than people trying to impress each other in order to feel more than what they are (but enough about the arts scene, LOLZ). Getting to hear lines I know off by heart was one kind of thrill, but hearing something new in them – as well as crafting detailed relationships between these seemingly broad characters – left me gobsmacked. That lady is anything but Nicolazy.

Other non-lazy ladies who blew my mind were POST with Ich Nibber Dibber. I don't envy the task of studying and transcribing your younger self, but the result was captivating. On a structural level the piece was a damn impressive feat of storytelling, but while it made me laugh (probably the most of any show this year), it also made me feel a lot of feeeeelings, none of which I'll share because I don't know you. I think like a lot of work I really dig it took something seemingly disposable – the offcuts of unstructured chats over ten years – and made something incredibly HIGH ART BUT ALSO CLOWNY from it.

I also got to witness an unforgettable moment at the end of the Malthouse season of Blackie Blackie Brown. Seconds before the show concluded, an audience member took a turn and was sick in the seating bank forcing the whole show to stop, because those are the sort of happy accidents that tended to happen with this show. I also cut my hand open with a machete in Sydney. We were determined to say goodbye to this beast properly, so Dalara Williams delivered her final monologue from the foyer. But the timing worked out so that midway through her monologue audiences began coming out of Melancholia... because. of course. Dalara's voice managed to silence the entire Malthouse foyer, and both audiences stood silently to witness it. The words Nakkiah had written – about a brighter Aboriginal future and the struggles still ahead – never felt more powerful than in that moment. I had the distinct feeling of being in a 'star-making' moment and I'm sure everyone else felt the same about me seeing as I'd set Dalara up for her monologue by playing a seven-year-old boy – a role I'd been gunning for since day one of rehearsal.

Looking forward to in 2019
Naturally I'm looking forward to working with a bunch of talented folks in The Temple at Malthouse (join usssssss....). I'm also a little thrilled we have Ellen Burstyn to gawk at when she acts her pants off in 33 Variations – which I assume is about the many TIGHT POLITE SMILES she has for homosexuals bothering her incessantly about The Exorcist. I'm also crossing my fingers for more plays from the GONE WRONG universe.

SM: Sure Blackie Blackie Brown was just the best, but then came PELICANette: the link should take you to the Google doc.


Daniel Lammin
Director
Engaged means presents!

Favourite moments in 2018
For me, it has to be The Bachelor S17 E5. I think I may have gotten the last ticket because I kept putting it off. The idea of staging an episode of a reality TV show sounded trite to me, and I had no desire to watch a bunch of self-satisfied artists put an episode on stage just for us to laugh knowingly at it and feel superior to it. But when I realised it was the work of Morgan Rose and Katrina Cornwell, I leapt at my computer and frantically booked. Morgan and Kat are maybe my favourite theatre makers in Melbourne. Their work is always so stirring and thrilling and presented with such generosity (especially their Riot Stage work), but The Bachelor surpassed my suddenly high expectations. It was beyond a clever concept, beyond parody. It was profound, hilarious, disturbing, moving, infuriating and epic. It treated its subject with such respect as it pulled its gender and racial politics apart, and in the process the gender and racial politics of our own world. This was theatre immediate and vital, insanely imaginative and rigorous in a way so little work is anymore. Morgan, Kat and their team presented a series of questions, provocations and conundrums, but you didn’t hear the questions, you felt them deeply, and Kat’s direction is some of the best I’ve seen in Melbourne in a long time. I left afterwards giddy at its audacity and generosity. Anyone else would have made it a joke, but they made it something bigger, deeper and grander than anyone on that show would ever have imagined their pursuit of Love could be.

Looking forward to in 2019
Obviously anything that Kat and Morgan do, which is also linked to the work of another artist I love. We finally get to see a staging of Fleur Kilpatrick’s Whale thanks to MAPA with Kat directing, and it just sounds so incredibly audacious! I’m also very excited for Fleur’s production of Slaughterhouse Five coming back, a co-pro with Monash Uni Student Theatre (MUST) and Theatre Works. The original production was incredible, and the work Fleur created with the students was often extraordinary. I can’t wait to see it again!

SM: I love Daniel's ongoing exploration of men and violence and where we go so wrong to create societies where violence develops: Sneakyville at fortyfivedownstairs (written by Christopher Bryant) started with Charles Manson, but was so much more.

But my favourite show of his this year was After Hero by the Monash Centre for Theatre and Performance at Malthouse. He works with emerging actors (students makes it sound like they aren't ready; they are) to create performances that come from places that mean something to the performers. This creates a passion on the stage that is so easy to connect to.

And it's very exciting that he's going to be continuing to work with students in his new position as producer at Monash Centre for Theatre and Performance.

I also use a film review he wrote when I teach film criticism. It's an example of personal subjective writing and it ALWAYS gets students talking and thinking about how to be more personal in their own writing.

Jane Miller
Playwright
15 Minutes from Anywhere


Jane Miller


Favourite moments in 2018

I didn’t see as much theatre in 2018 as I would like to have. Highlights for me were Blasted at Malthouse. It’s obviously not an easy text but Sarah Kane’s writing is stunning, confronting and visceral. Everything about Anne-Louise Sarks’s production was pitched perfectly. Blasted forced me to appreciate the privilege inherent in my own discomfort.

Something completely different was Puffs at The Alexander Theatre. I’ve only read three Harry Potter novels  – SM: What!? – so I probably didn’t get as much from the humour as true aficionados, but it was fun, clever and the performances were excellent.

The evocative and intelligent Fallen by She Said Theatre at fortyfivedownstairs made me acutely aware of the powder keg of frustration underneath an incredibly repressed façade. I love She Said Theatre’s work.

Perhaps my favourite show of the year was Morgan Rose and Katrina Cornwell’s The Bachelor S17 E5. By using the transcript of an episode of The Bachelor, they made a show that was both hilarious and disturbing. Their production choices and beautiful cast revealed the darker subtext at the underbelly of reality television. It was brilliant and I’d love to see it have another run.

Looking forward to in 2019
Solaris at he Malthouse and Arbus and West at the MTC. I will be keeping my eyes open for the exciting things coming up a Red Stitch, Darebin, fortyfivedownstairs, Theatre Works and from my favourite independent artists.

My creative partner-in-crime Beng Oh has a return of his excellent production of Mike Bartlett’s play Cock coming to fortyfivedownstairs for Midsumma, which is very exciting.

Perhaps the thing I’m most looking forward to is seeing the amazing team at La Mama continue to thrive and renew despite the heartbreak they experienced during 2018. Their determination and support of artists is a wonderful thing to experience any year.

SM: Jane has been one of my favourite local writers since she stood out in Short and Sweets many years ago. Her plays grasp how characters have to make choices and that those choices should be impossible. Her characters are us; we know these people and she always ensures that we remember them because we're making those impossible choices with them. Her Just A Boy Standing in Front of a Girl  at La Mama in October surprised me at every turn. It began by ensuring that the audience had to think about gender and perspective from the moment we sat in our gender-specific seats, and continued to question what decisions in the story were based on gender. Great stuff.

27 December 2017

What Melbourne Loved in 2017, part 11

Because last minute.

Andrew Westle
Finished his Phd
Delving into Dance podcast
Andrew Westle

Favourite moments in 2017
A year that was tarnished by the inauguration of DT (SM: He self-googles; we don't want him here by searching for his name) and the divisiveness of his politics of hate. The same year we saw the expensive and divisive postal vote and the increased focus of gender inequities in the creative industries, alongside the increased reporting of sexual abuse. 2017 is the year that appears to mark a precipice. A call for action; what is the trajectory we have set ourselves?

There were three works that answered the call, all significant departures from the path our political leaders appear to want to take us and complicating the status quo. They have marked me in distinct and significant ways. They have all changed me!

Hannah Gadsby, Nanette.
What the fuck! This was just a phenomenal performance. I was blessed to see the return season. One microphone and one enormous Hamer Hall stage, a stage too often reserved for "high art". A stunning juxtaposition for the critique of high art outlined during the show. Ask Hannah what she thinks of Picasso… and rightly so. The show was perfectly structured and bravely performed. The unresolved tension at the end was palpable. A call for action. I turned to Bec Reid with the knot in my chest as we looked for the words: “WHOW!” What else can be said?

Taylor Mac, A 24-Decade History of Popular Music
24-Decade, like Nanette, was a provocation and a call to action. The audience were implicated as part of the mode of delivery. Generally, I loath audience participation and seek to hide from any invitation to participate. But for a radical faerie realness ritual sacrifice, I was there! The audience participation felt so natural as inclusion as part of the mode of performance and the nature of its creation.

Vote one Taylor for President. The performance models what it would be like if we had a leader that valued the diversity of voices, including queers, women and people of colour.

It was unapologetically queer in its politics. A protest. A celebration. A radical faerie realness ritual sacrifice. It was everything and more. A temporary community that reflected my politics and my love of what and who humans can be.

Jonathan Holloway said to me on the first night that the work would change the city (a huge call, I though at the time). BUT YES! Not a single person couldn’t have been changed. Personally, Taylor gave value to my queer politic in a way that doesn’t often feature in theatre of a generic LGBTIQ nature.

Not a day that has passed without reflection upon Taylor’s show. From slow dancing with strangers to the validation of anonymous cock sucking! Machine Dazzle, Tiger and the whole crew! Incredible!

All the Queens Men, The Coming Back Out Ball
The vision of Tristan Meecham, The Coming Back Out Ball paid homage to our LGBTI Elders. While involved in the ball as the maître d', I can say without bias this was the best night of my life. An artistic intervention based on research that literally changed peoples lives. The project embraced and celebrated our elders, with a room of over 500 people full of love and joy.

I was embraced by a lesbian who was in tears of joy saying, “This is the best night of my life". It is the first time I have been recognised as a lesbian and an elder.” I spoke to a 68-year-old trans woman who used the ball as her post-op debutante. Then there was a couple who were celebrating their 26th Anniversary. This was a truly safe and celebratory space, with a three course meal for all the Elders and amazinging performances from the likes of Robyn Archer, Deborah Cheetham and Toni Lalich.

The Ball embraced everything wonderful about inclusion and community!

Honorable mentions: Attractor at Asia TOPA; Angels in America; Piece for Person and Ghetto Blaster, Nicola Gunn; Do Not Collect $200; Gabrielle Nankivell’s Wildebeest for Sydney Dance Company; All the Sex I've Ever Had; Melanie Lane’s Nightdance; and Wild Bore.

Looking forward to in 2018
In 2018 I will be spending significant time in the UK, so really looking forward to the experience the new and unknown. Seeking works that profile a diversity of voices, the queer, the unique and works that engage their audiences in re-imagining the world we could inhabit.


Cathy Hunt
Director, dramaturg


Cathy Hunt
Favourite moments in 2017
The Happy Prince
Little Ones Theatre, La Mama.  In this almost unbearably delicate production, the series of encounters and gradual entwining of the hopelessly selfish prince even in her compassion and the beautiful reckless generous obliviousness of the roller-skating swallow with his tiny strength which he gives up accidentally. As they began to see each other they disintegrate and that love was devastating.

The Encounter, Complicite, Malthouse. It stopped, shifted and altered time when I was within it, a huge feat and one that made the world sit differently afterwards. Despite the vastly British framing, familiar if effective storytelling tricks to make us trust, a huge interior journey became possible.

Free Admission, Ursula Martinez, Arts Centre Melbourne. Ursula brought in and broke down (by constructing) a wall! She freely admitted through a "Sometimes I..." structure drawing from the free association much that isn’t usually allowed to enter into theatrical or our mental space. Potent, unique and challenging.

Passenger, Footscray Community Arts Centre and Arts Centre. Not so much for what happened on the bus, but for the incremental inroads this work made into the real world beyond. How the uninspiring Docklands we drove through became part of the audience’s imaginative terrain. The pleasure of spotting strange characters, a Clint Eastwood-esque figure on horseback, and the way it shifted our relation to overlooked, ordinary over-developed urban spaces, has stayed with me.

Book of Exodus part 1 and part 2, Fraught Outfit, Theatre Works. Navigated the weight of time, of history, of cultural destiny with first two children then a whole band trying to find their way through the dark desert. From a slow journey through (part 1) a white world of futile foam with discoveries like a gingerbread house through (part 2) into a shadowy black space shining with gold and a lamplike sun in which childhood objects like sleeping bags and scooters alternated with displays of power and detachment that were never held onto too tightly, but slipped through young fingers like uncomprehended ash. The final moment of the babies having a bacchanal, suckling and the deus ex machina descent of Euygeene Teh’s incredible gold-breasted milk-dispensing contraption was unparalleled.

Queen of Wolves, Nick Coyle, Hares and Hyenas. An Act of indomitable mental and imaginative fortitude in which Nick Coyle embodies Frances Glass, a determined governess-type charged to restore a haunted house to a semblance of order. I marvelled as I felt so many things. The Hares and Hyenas wallpaper became the peeling veneer of a cobwebby mansion. The cello-playing frenzy and channelling of a louche Southern former mistress of the house was unfathomably funny. A seriously glorious work of theatre with crazy high production values. Must see! Crying out for another season.

Merciless Gods, Little Ones Theatre, Darebin Speakeasy. This work transported me into the dark subterranean places of our unbridled uncensored feelings and was so intense and violent in parts, yet terribly tender in others. The drive to display and dramatise what surges underneath even apparently ordinary moments and relationships masquerading as familial, the unabashed blatancy of the project and its incredible realisation by the ensemble and the whole team made for compelling theatre. The palette of reds and the spatial design like a tongue sticking out between the seating banks seemed like the only possible setting for this act of collective calling up of the spirit of a whole decade.

One of the Good Ones, Cope St Indigenous Arts Collective, Metanoia. I delighted in this ambivalently nostalgic retro-ridiculous offering with a set made from outmoded technology, that asked the audience to read the work on multiple levels. With their child self believing a hairdryer was a blaster, with their adult self who was nostalgic for the time when it was possible to believe a hairdryer was a blaster and with their current self noticing colonial triggers (such as music from the bicentennial) while being made aware of the racist tropes invoked (like "one of the good ones"). Smart writing and hilarious performances. By setting this struggle in space, in the future, the audience drew their own parallels about Aboriginal heroism in the struggle for sovereignty in a hostile (solar) system.

The Chairs,  Jenny Kemp, designed by Dale Ferguson, La Mama. Like dwelling at the bottom of the sea, living in a lighthouse, being part of an elaborate ritual in which a couple attempt to work out how to extricate themselves from life, re-capture and experience each other’s affection, by instituting space between them, in preparation for saying goodbye to everything. That moment of Jillian Murray and Robert Meldrum progressing up separate staircases nearly obliterated me. Unbearably powerful!

Ash Flanders is Nothing,  Hares and Hyenas. Kaleidoscopic collision nigh impossible to encapsulate. A bit like dwelling within a cabana made of Muriel’s Wedding, your childhood sense of The Neverending Story as tragedy and a reflux-like experiencing of Ash Flanders’/one’s own less than ideal life. All generously given to you on a slightly chipped but really lavish platter with full flourish. Consummate performance by an ascerbically insightful marvel making a Christmas sacrifice of his own bravado for your delight.

Looking forward to in 2018
Good Muslim Boy, Melancholia, Blasted (Australian premiere!) at Malthouse, and the return of Belarus Free Theatre.

The Nightingale and the Rose by Little Ones and Dybbuks by Samara Hersch and Chambermade - both at Theatreworks

Hungry Ghosts by Jean Tong at MTC and much much more on and off stages.


Yvonne Virsik
Director
Artsistic Director, MUST


Yvonne Virsik

Favourite moments in 2017

Susie Dee and Nicci Wilks doing their best to adjust to a sudden (devlishly angular) rainstorm during a performance of Caravan – adjusting their caravan/set, trying to stay in character but not– gloriously entertainingly live.

Brilliant, hilarious and insightful women taking about where we are at in The Festival of Questions,  especially "The Handmaid's Tale WTF",  Wheeler Centre, Melbourne Festival.

Bizarrely serendipitous programming one night at The MUST Cabaret Festival: a dramatic duet of "Total Eclipse of the Heart" performed in German followed a few minutes later by an equally dramatic solo version in Russian, then the hosts joining in with their English version and...

Great sport Tim enduring black goo poured over his head again and again in pursuit of the "great promo shot" for Frankensteinxx at MUST.

The razor-sharp choreographic flourishes in How to Kill the Queen of Pop, Hotel Now.

Turning around suddenly in response to the 360 degree soundscape of The Encounter at Malthouse.

The moments of humble, shared humanity between those on the stage, those in the audience and those on and off in All the Sex I've Ever Had, Melbourne Festival.

People's unreserved joy at experiencing Taylor Mac, of whom I only got a little first hand, but an enormous amount vicariously.

The incredibly dramatic, fiery, epic-action-movie-like scene changes in MTC's Macbeth.

The wondrous final image of Angels in America Part 1: the inventive canvas-curtained set dropped down to reveal a beautifully glowing hand-painted stained glass effect.

The stunning images of Exodus, Part I and Part II, Fraught Outfit at Theatre Works.

Glimpses of Joan, just caught by light, The Rabble at Theatre Works.

The focused fleeting images of In Plan, Melbourne Festival.

The Nose in The Nose, Bloomshed at Melbourne  Fringe.

Some surprises:
The shifts in tone in Hannah Gadsby's Nanette and Kaitlyn Rogers's Can I Get an Amen. They both totally succeeded in keeping us with them, through all their heart wrenching terrain. (Ok, so by the time I saw Nanette, it wasn't a surprise, but the power of the experience of was.)

Realising it wasn't just a genius marketing ploy in Wild Bore at Malthouse.

Realising it wasn't just my niece enjoying As You Like It at the Pop Up Globe from The Groundlings area.

The sometimes jarring, sometimes fluid relationship between movement and text in Nicola Gun's incredible work Piece for Person and Ghetto Blaster.

Discoveries – why have some of these taken me so long?
Trygve Wakenshaw in Nautilus – A fluid rubbery joy.
The Travelling Sisters – looking forward to more.
Rama Nichols – she's just so good.
Seeing Joe Fisher juggle for the first time at The MUST Cabaret Festival–  not a form I generally go crazy over, but the electric tension he brings to his performances is something else.

Show I loved (but, as always, there are so many):
Angels in America at fortyfivedownstairs, directed by Gary Abrahams I think has affected me the most. I've always loved the texts but what a privilege to experience them brought to life with such theatrical ingenuity, extraordinary performances and searing humanity. One of my favourite moments of the whole year is returning for Part Two, scanning the audience and catching the eyes of familiar faces from the night before, full of excitement at continuing our epic journey together.

What I'm looking forward to in 2018
Melancholia at Malthouse. The film has stayed just under my skin since I saw it and I've always thought it would make a fascinating piece of theatre. With Declan Greene and Matt Lutton as creators, I tingle at the possibilities.

I only saw a bit of Taylor Mac, but will be keeping an eye out for judy's work all over the world. Determined to also check Mac out as a playwright, I bought a copy of Hir afterwards and am now looking forward to Daniel Clarke's Production at Red Stitch very soon.

Generally, I'm looking forward to more surprises, more diversity in programming and in the breadth of artists engaged, which does seem to be growing. Bring on the surprises, the discoveries and the sheer theatrical joy!


part 10
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part 6
part 5
part 4
part 3
part 2
part 1
2016
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13 December 2017

What Melbourne Loved in 2017, part 9

This is your last week to get your moments included. Today we hear from Richard Watts, Sharon Davis and Ash Flanders.

Richard Watts
Professional pontificator, ArtsHub/3RRR

Lee Zachariah's photo for Richard Watts's 50th this year


Favourite moments in 2017
It’s been a memorable and fascinating year; one in which compassion, connection and community were the dominant themes of the works which resonated with me the most.

Hannah Gadsby’s Nanette remains the single most perfect and important piece of art I saw this year; a work that weaponised comedy by turning the art form against itself, ratchetting up the tension by depriving us of punch lines and in doing so letting us not just see but experience the damage inflicted by homophobia. Heartbreaking, brilliant and important – I don’t know how Hannah keeps performing it, and I hope she has a mental health professional on speed-dial to talk with after each and every show.

A 24-Decade History of Popular Music performed by Taylor Mac and friends was an epic, life-affirming celebration of queerness at a time when my community most needed succour and hope. Taylor gave it to us in spades – and so much more besides. I won’t go on at length about how magic and marvellous this four-part work was – it’s already had a lot of love in What Melbourne Loved this year – but I will thank the Melbourne Festival team once more for allowing us to experience this glittering gem of a show.

The Gabriels: Election Year in the Life of One Family at Perth Festival is another highlight; I’ve never seen realism done with such subtly, such truthful finesse, and such impact. Three plays performed back to back; the American family in miniature; a tri-part work about class, politics and feminism that was fresh and electrifying and never once didactic or hectoring; the best stage drama I’ve witnessed in 2017.

Attractor at Asia TOPA was my favourite dance work of the year, alongside several other brilliant contenders. Take a bow, Bunny (another Asia TOPA event); Restless Dance Theatre’s Intimate Space at Adelaide Festival; Nicola Gunn’s Piece for Person and Ghetto Blaster and Nick Power’s Between Tiny Cities (both at Dance Massive) – A cross-cultural collaboration, an ecstatic celebration, a skilled blending of creative voices, a triumph.

Honourable mentions: All the Sex I’ve Ever Had at Melbourne Festival, another work in which a palpable sense of community built in the theatre as the work progressed; Kate Mulvany’s mercurial and moving Richard 3 for Bell Shakespeare; Wot? No Fish!! at Adelaide Festival, a deceptively simple work with so much heart, and Richard Gadd’s honest, confessional and experimental comedy at MICF, Money See, Monkey Do. And so much more…

Looking forward to in 2018
It’s probably cheating to say everything, isn’t it? There’s so much I’m hanging out to see next year: Daniel Clarke directing Taylor Mac’s Hir at Red Stitch; Daniel Lammin directing Tommy Murphy’s Strangers in Between at fortyfivedownstairs; Brian Lucas giving voice to Wilde’s De Profundis at Gasworks… and that’s just during Midsumma!

I’m especially excited to see not one but two mainstage works – finally! – by Patricia Cornelius in 2018, though I don’t know if I’ll get to both: her adaptation of Lorca's The House of Bernarda Alba at MTC, directed by Leticia Cáceres and a new, original work, In the Club at State Theatre Company South Australia, directed by Geordie Brookman.

I’m also hanging out for Jada Alberts’s Brothers Wreck at the Malthouse; Albert Belz’s Astroman and Jean Tong’s Hungry Ghosts, both at the MTC; Gravity and Other Myths’s intimate, brilliant circus work A Simple Space and Griffin Theatre’s long-awaited production of Angus Cerini’s The Bleeding Tree, both at Arts Centre Melbourne, and so much more.

Most importantly I’m looking forward to more new voices; more works by new artists; more works from artists from diverse backgrounds telling stories that when we hear them we’ll be like, “Why haven’t we heard this before?!”. Bring on 2018

Richard & Daniel at Taylor Mac. Photo by Sarah Walker
Me & Richard during Purple Rain. Photo by Daniel Kilby

SM: Watching "Purple Rain" together at Taylor Mac. And the look on Richard's face during the interval of The Book of Mormon.


Sharon Davis
Director
Sharon Davis. Photo by Cricket @ Cricket Studio


Favourite moments in 2017
Hands down, the stage lift during the storm in Away at The Malthouse. I have never felt that kind of pure excitement and adrenaline in the theatre before. It was just magic and it made me feel like a little kid again. I loved the rest of that show too. It took me by surprise which is remarkable for a piece so familiar. It had the intensity of purpose that you often get with a new work while still feeling like a dignified “classic”. I don’t know what I mean by that except that that is how it made me feel.

Of course Melbourne is rich with so much theatre to feast on but my other highlights include:

Nanette by Hannah Gadsby. Her challenge to the idea that artists must be tortured to be of value lingers with me.

Britney Spears: The Cabaret. I know it’s been kicking around for years but I’m one of those people that hadn’t seen it until this year at Chapel. Holy shit, Christie Whelan-Browne is an absolute knockout. Jaw stayed on the floor. If she does it again, don’t think, just go.

The Happy Prince. I always really get a kick out of Stephen Nicolazzo‘s work but this piece came in like a little bird and carried my heart away with such tenderness and humour that I just had to sit a few moments at the end and gather myself. Just beautiful.

Red Stitch really knocked it out of the park for me with Incognito by Nick Payne. I love plays and I love watching actors deliver complex ideas while revealing meaning through human connection, intention and emotion. It’s such an epic play and I still don’t know how they managed to fit it into that space but it worked and it was like jazz and science had a love child.

And finally, Songs for a Weary Throat. An incredible team of artists made this piece epic and beautiful. There was so much danger in the way the performers moved and played. The space was chaotic and broken and full of, seemingly, actual danger. Yet what stuck me most was the absolute trust and care that shone through with every movement, look,and exchange that took place between the performers. It reminded me that theatre doesn’t have to be a competition of endurance, aggression,or trauma for it to be high impact for the audience.

Looking forward to in 2018
A safe, supportive, and respectful work space for EVERYONE.

I can’t wait to see what Stephen Nicolazzo does with Abigail’s Party for MTC. Also really looking forward to seeing one of my favourite directors, Kirsten Von Bibra, take on Venus in Fur for Lightening Jar Theatre at 45 Downstairs.

SM: Sharon directed Spencer, one of my favourite new works of this year.


Ash Flanders
Sister

Ash Flanders. I let him choose his own pic.

Favourite moments in 2017
Number one has to be Declan Greene performing the monologue “Conserve water, drink piss” for me at Blondies earlier this week. It’s a found monologue from an Eagle Leather email. I hope it gets picked up.

But in terms of actual things, like anyone with a die hard love of grooviness, I am now a devout member of the church of Betty Grumble. Getting to witness Love and Anger was like getting a front row seat to a tornado where everyone fought to be pulled in. Emma Maye has the potential to be a worldwide ecosexual terrorist of the highest order if smart gate-keepers can open their eyes, hearts and orifices.

Other standout moments include: Peter Paltos delivering the incredible monologue Dan Giovannoni wrote in Merciless Gods; The Listies deservedly selling out their Edinburgh season; marveling at the plot mechanics of Declan’s Faggots or The Homosexuals; the insanity of Phil Dunning’s House of Pigs; and any time I got to witness Nick Coyle be the icon, legend and lunatic he is.

Personally I am very grateful for the opportunity to tour a work overseas and also make a dream come true by finally having an all-lady band help Dave, Stephen and I take Playing to Win to the heights I dreamed it could get to – big thanks to Daniel Clarke and The Arts Centre. I’m beyond thrilled to see The Rabble getting the respect they deserve. Oh I also got to improvise with living legends Nicola Gunn, Mish Grigor and Marcus McKenzie and I’m hoping someday we share the idiotic fruits of that endeavour.

Looking forward to in 2018
Apart from taking over the world myself (any day now), I’m looking forward to witnessing other people do the same. Ich Nibber Dibber sounds like manna from heaven, Melancholia sounds like the end of the world (finally!), and both Accidental Death of a Anarchist and The House of Bernarda Alba have me convinced that people finally realised Bessie Holland should be in everything. Oh and what’s the other show... oh that’s right, only the GREATEST PLAY EVER WRITTEN – Abigail's Party! I’ve never wanted to be Eryn Jean Norvill more – and should she somehow be unable to play the part I’m already word perfect. Just. In. Case.

SM: I can't get past that Ms F is looking forward to main-stage shows next year. Oh how far we have come! But it has to be reading the reactions to Lilith the Jungle Girl in Edinburgh and Ms L getting to Amsterdam.

What am I doing on Xmas Eve? Seeing Ash in Nothing at Hares and Hyenas. He's the tangerine in my stocking. He's back with Stephen Nicolazzo and Dave Barclay for the fourth time, following Negative Energy, Special Victim, and Playing to Win. Details here. You can also go on Sunday 17.

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31 August 2017

How to Fringe 2017: Ash Flanders

Ash Flanders
Sisters Grimm
Anything they’ll let me do

SM: He’s the most written about person on SM and in the 10 years since I Love You Bro (my earnest over writing, his earnest hair) at the Melbourne Fringe, no one has come near his standard of ball acting (or in-joke). Ash is in Amsterdam this week because, after a month of many stars and glory at the Edinburgh Fringe, Lilith needed to see some windmills.

Backstage before the last Edinburgh performance of Lilith the Jungle Girl.
Genevieve Giuffre, Ash Flanders, Candy Bowers. Photo by Bec Etchell and Face App

The Melbourne Fringe in three words?
Open, Collaborative, Lithuanian.

A favourite Melbourne Fringe memory
Cutting myself by mistake at the end of a short play written by Tom Doig entitled One-Arm and Three-Arm in a Swamp. Spoiler alert: the play ended with me (One-Arm) cutting off the extra arm belonging to Three-Arm. I was a bit too excited with the scissors and they went right through his fake arm and into my real one. As we finished the play I felt something running down my leg and when I looked down I saw blood on the floor. As the lights faded out I turned to my co-star and said – quite calmly – ‘I have cut myself and need to leave the stage’. When the lights came back up for our curtain call I was already in the dressing room asking a doctor friend if I needed stitches. I still have the scar – and the bloody leotard is framed in my tiny apartment. Oh and my co-star is now working in Hollywood. So I guess we both came out on top?

What is your experience as an independent artist being part of the Melbourne Fringe?
It’s been a few years since I’ve worked with Melbourne Fringe, but my experience was always one of total support. I loved feeling like part of a community, and that whatever I was doing was part of something bigger. I also loved getting messy at the hub and embarrassing myself on the dancefloor – something I still do. Last year when Lilith The Jungle Girl closed at MTC, we all headed straight to Melbourne Fringe – all the best people are there!

What makes the Melbourne Fringe unique?
We’ve just been in Edinburgh for fringe and it really made me see the high standard of work we have back home. And while Adelaide Fringe is certainly a larger beast and can feel like a bit like a drunken party where people stumble into shows last minute, I think Melbourne Fringe is about the art first, and the party is (a close) second.

What’s your advice for choosing what to see in the Melbourne Fringe?
Support your icons but also take a chance in developing future ones. Nobody knew I’d become the international superstar that I am when I was doing a little show in the Loft at the Lithuanian club – and LOOK AT ME NOW!!!

SM: I knew.

Do you think there’s a better system than star ratings for reviews?
This is such a huge question and unfortunately I’m sure I have nothing new to say on the topic. I can see from an audience perspective why stars are a quick and easy way to have shows recommended – but as an artist I see how they can be an insanely reductive way to judge and value work. It’s obviously about the quality of the conversation around work – and I think it’s about maintaining a mix of long- and short-form criticism, as well as audiences being encouraged to write their own thoughts too. The more voices the better. And please, let’s talk about the ideas behind the work! At the moment I’d rather see a badly-made show with interesting ideas than a slick production with nothing to say.

Five shows/events  you will not miss at the 2017 Melbourne Fringe.
Church curated by Mama Alto
Let’s get Practical! Live. Presented by The Very Good Looking Initiative
The Super Queer Murderess Show. A marginalia of fatal femmes
Public Displays of Therapy. A place where art and psychotherapy meet
Lady Bunny in Trans-Jester

SM: Anyone who's just done Edinburgh and can look at another fringe program without self harming can have another five.

BOSS written and performed by Charisa Bossinakis
Tony Martin and Geraldine Quinn: Childproof, the podcast
Tessa Waters: Volcano
Twenties  (They didn’t play fair because that image means I have to go.)
Betty GRUMBLE: Sex Clown Saves the World

08 December 2016

What Melbourne loved in 2016, part 6ters

Part sixters is all Sixters Grimm. Where would we be without them?

Declan Greene
Resident Artist, Malthouse Theatre; and lots of other things

Declan Greene in rehearsal for Lilith. Photo by Deryk McAlpin

DG's favourite moments in Melbourne theatre in 2016: I spent a lot of this year very anxious about the dwindling support for independent artists. In particular those early career artists who missed out on the brief flourish of Heliums and NEONs and Downstairs Belvoirs and Wharf 2s that kick-started the careers of a lot of my friends. (And that was before the additional two-handed-fistfuck of NPEA/Catalyst and everything it ripped away from the small-to-medium sector).

So my favourite moments happened every time I saw early-career artists making incredible work in total defiance of the mess they've been plonked in.

Of these moments, my favourite-est was probably Embittered Swish's Our Lady Of The Flowers, an excavation of Jean Genet's novel, created by a phenomenal team of trans and non-binary artists led by Mick Klepner Roe (this was Mick's graduating piece from the VCA directing course). It seemed to exist in a state of constant slippage. A dream-like space where where gender, performer/character identity and temporality were in constant flux, and a thread of dark eroticism and violence pulsed beneath every fluctuation. The cast were uniformly exceptional, and there were moments that took my breath away: a horror-tinged monologue by Cinnamon Templeton about hormone therapy plus a sweating, pig-like doctor;  the visceral, driving sound design by Romy Seven. It wasn't a perfect work, but it felt daring, thrilling, and genuinely original in a way few art does.

In addition to this, I completely heart-and-soul loved Ian Michael and She Said Theatre's HARTKaty Warner's A Prudent Man, Mama Alto's Extravaganza, The Very Good Looking Initiative's CULL and there are probably a million others I'm forgetting, but those were some of 'em.

What DG is looking forward to in Melbourne theatre in 2017: Finally seeing Ash Flanders's Playing To Win. Cuz he's a genius, duh.

And I'm super-biased, but pretty much the entire Malthouse 2017 season has me imploding with excitement: The Encounter, The Black Rider, Wild Bore, and Revolt. She Said. Revolt Again and more and more and more. Seriously, its all so good.

SM: Lilith, the Jungle Girl was something else (co-written and directed by Declan) and there was The Listies in Hamlet:Prince of Skidmark (written by Declan), which I went to Sydney to see. This gave me a brilliant afternoon with my niece and nephew (this was their first theatre show!) and, side-splitting Listies performances aside, was easily the most astute adaption of Hamlet I've seen. I was thrilled that the first Ophelia my niece saw was a super hero who took charge of her life instead of giving all of her emotion to a boy who wasn't worth her time.

But favourite moment was Declan talking about how mid-career artists should choose an emerging artist and mentor them because a lot of the opportunities that these mid-career artists had no longer exist.

Ash Flanders
home owner, still skinny, power bottom


Ash Flanders. Photo by Sarah Walker. Slight improvements by Jeff Miller, Photoshop and the Jim Henson archive

AF's favourite moments in Melbourne theatre in 2016: Without a doubt my favourite theatrical moment in 2016 was anything Dave said or did – or mimed – in Trigger Warning. Zoe Coombs Marr has created a metatextual behemoth that captivates and terrifies audiences in the most brilliant way possible. I have never laughed as hard as I did the night I saw that show. It's too bad she's already married to Rhys Nicholson, because I'd love to be her husband/wife/significant otter ...  and then steal all her ideas.

I know it's only meant to be one thing but I can't miss a chance to talk about Anti-Hamlet. This was my first time seeing Mark Wilson's work and I was utterly blown away by the singularity of his voice. This freudian fantasia – mixed with Australian politics, queer theory and Shakespeare – was chock-full of dense, meaty ideas and concepts; I don't remember any other show in 2016 making me think quite as much as that show did.

And OMG this just reminded me that this was the year I saw The Listies in Hamlet: Prince of Skidmark! I'll be quick about this but it was certainly worth the day-trip to Sydney and back. These guys made even the most cynical, jaded, bitter power-bottom remember why he ever fell in love with theatre in the first place. I can't wait to catch The Listies Ruin Xmas this month!

(I'd also like to mention my favourite onstage moment: looking out at my father as I penetrated myself with the leg of a stool while naked, covered in pink mud and chained to the MTC floor.)

What AF is looking forward to in Melbourne theatre in 2017: Oh god, I know it's beyond shameless to pick Declan because he's clearly going to pick me, but in all honesty The Homosexuals, or Faggots is what I'm most looking forward to. Because, duh, I like his writing a lot! I've heard bits of it and am already considering what outfit to wear when I picket the theatre with my other outraged, middle-class gay brethren. Personally I'm also looking forward to working with a band for the first time in Playing to Win and hopefully making more of my webseries Friendly with Peter Paltos (www.facebook.com/friendlywebseries).

SM: It's a tough choice for Ash this year: kittie onsie or nude and covered in pink goo? Nup, can't decide which was better.

I'm going to watch Friendly asap (cos I adore Peter P).

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