What Melbourne Loved in 2021 (and 2020), part 4

Telia Nevile and Bron Batten were also in the first What Melbourne Loved. I first reviewed Telia in 2006 and Bron in 2008. I first saw Telia perform in 2001 and I would have seen Bron at one of the first Last Tuesday Society shows. I've since seen whatever work of theirs that I can. It's amazing to watch artists develop and find their voices and create such incredible and original work that comes straight from their hearts.

Bron Batten
Theatre maker, producer, performer
Jobkeeper tax expert, excellent hair

Bron Batten. "Waterloo"

What theatre/art/creative experience did you love the most in 2021?I can never just narrow it down to one! So I won’t. I absolutely adored Alisdair Macindoe’s Reference Material at Northcote Town Hall. Sexy, clever, funny, smart, bursting with ideas and self-aware but not (too!) smug. And a dance work. Wonders never cease. Remount please.
 
I saw Michelle Brasier’s Average Bear on Sunday night and it should have won the Best Of at this year’s MICF. Brutally funny and utterly beautifully sad, I ugly laughed/cried the whole way through. Voice of an angel and an absolute quadruple threat.
 
I was lucky enough to make it up to Darwin to perform at the festival and as a result finally saw Selina Jenkins’s Boobs. And it was just as wonderful as everyone had constantly said it was. She’s a master of the raised eyebrow and managed to turn the audience on a dime, whilst holding them carefully in the palm of her hand. Plus, great songs and timeless nipple-centric material.
 
I was also fortunate to see Alice Sing, the great choir from Alice Springs, kill it at their Darwin Fest show, Red Desert, Endless Sky, under the tireless guidance of their super-talented choir master Edward Gould. Beautiful original compositions and arrangements and 50 people singing together who were mic-ed up properly. Unheard of in a lockdown world and completely goosebumps/tear inducing. Magical. Ed and I used to run the OG choir together in Melbourne under the various guises of Choir Straits, Your Love is Lifting Me Choir and This Sex is on Choir. Alice Sings is much, much, much better.
 
Also, while I’m here, massive shout out to the Darwin Festival team for getting through a mid-festival lockdown, re-scheduling shows on the fly and being massive babe legends throughout. Oh and honourable mention to Lou Wall’s That One Time I Joined The Illuminati. Told you I wouldn’t be able to pick just one.
 
What surprised you about finding new ways to make art in locked-down worlds?
Christopher Green’s No Show for The Yard Theatre in London utilised its Zoom audience in clever ways, with audience participation involving home-based tasks, assigned character quests, spotify dj-ing and group karaoke. It was totally worth staying up until 4am to watch it during a timeless lockdown netherworld.
 
I also experienced several shows during Melbourne Fringe 2020 that involved packages being delivered to your house – and the utter delight in receiving personally addressed mail which is not electricity bills never, ever, ever wears out.
 
What did you do to stay connected to your arts community?
I spent a lot of time in 2020 working as one of the many admin’s on the Facebook group Australian Arts Amidst COVID-19, founded by Perth artist Alex Desebrock. In the aftermath of the March 2020 shutdowns AAAC19 provided a focus, gathering point and community contact for many members of the arts ecology throughout endless lockdowns. We tried to help people with the administration involved in seeking government assistance and financial help, relief grants and Centrelink etc. And I was constantly astounded by the generosity, kindness, knowledge and support people offered each other throughout that utterly terrifying time. Though I NEVER thought I’d now know this much about the taxation laws surrounding JobKeeper.

What are you looking forward to in 2022?
TOURING! (Hopefully!)

SM: In what world could Bron and I ever have imagined that my favourite memory of her would be her FB group reminders to put in Jobkeeper details? It's ridiculous, right!? I was also thrilled that she got to Darwin with Waterloo, which I've only seen once (!) and have no idea what its turned into since its first run. Hopefully we will see it in Melbourne again.

 

Telia Nevile
Poet, performer, photographer
Where punk and delightful collide

Telia Nevile

What theatre/art/creative experience did you love the most 2021 (or 2020)?
I loved how the arts (of all types) became more accessible, opening up to people who can’t leave their homes, navigate physical venues, make it into the city, or be in crowds. Being able to watch arts from all over the world was also incredible; it felt a little like being a kid in a candy-store, being free to curate my own festival rather than wait for someone else to do it for me. On top of this, the arts community has always been generous with their time and their skills, but it hit new heights with workshops and classes and online dance parties popping up all over the place. It’s crazy to me that the arts aren’t always recognised as the thing that brings us together and makes us better because they do, and for all of the many, and long, lockdowns, they did. I was just so proud to be part of such a wonderful community.
 
What surprised you about finding new ways to make art in locked-down worlds?
It’s a totally different mindset, and once I got my head around it, it surprised me that the show I wrote will have two completely different lives and two ways of expressing itself – the filmed version and the live version. It’s no longer enough to just film a live performance and say that it’s available digitally – it’s a completely independent version of the show that needs to be reimagined and made in its own way. I can’t wait to perform Little Monster live and feel how the show shifts and changes.
 
What did you do to stay connected to your arts community?
As lame as it sounds, I signal-boosted every post I saw of people making stuff, or achieving things, or just sharing small things to be happy about, because now, more than ever, we need to be as supportive as we have the spoons to be. I messaged people I usually just run into in foyers, to tell them that I’d read their posts and felt the same, or seen their digital works and gotten joy from them, or that what they were doing was amazing (because it is). Social media is usually quite alien to me, but during the lockdowns, it felt more like the community noticeboard I always wanted it to be.
 
What are you looking forward to in 2022?
Seeing lots of live performance with an increased focus on accessibility. Seeing live shows and then seeing their digital versions to enjoy the different interpretations and suck as much marrow from the bones as possible. Hopefully touring again to NZ, and then maybe in 2023 to Canada again. Watching the vigour return to community members who were drained by the big C, when they get the chance to do what they love again.

SM: Telia's Little Monster (the filmed version) was glorious and it so won The Best in Festival at Melbourne Fringe. I watched it twice in one day. Watching it felt like she was talking directly to me – and so few shows managed that when they did the big pivot. I am booked in for the opening night of her live version. She also accidentally introduced me to the acidentally-vegan yum of Hob Nobs.
 

What I Loved in 2019: The best of Melbourne theatre. And thank you

This year I saw a lot of new work and emerging artists, which is how I started writing about theatre. Many of those artists and companies from the early days are now on our main stages, where indie criticism isn't as welcome and masthead criticsm is reduced to an adjective. I do both.

Seeing new work and watching companies and artists develop is one of the most satisfying parts of being a theatre writer. When you see something remarkable in a tiny room, you come back and see them again and again. Watching other people discover that same remarkable is amazing.

If you have to choose between seeing one big show or 20 small ones, see the small ones. You'll feel better.

There's such a demand for indie critics and writers because, no matter how tough it gets, our indie performers, companies and venues keep making work.

Independent and emerging performers, if you want people to see your work and write about it, find the voices or publications that you like and read or listen to or follow. There will be someone who totally gets your work and will be the voice that describes your art in ways that makes other people want to see you.

If you don't know who those reviewers they are yet, read, listen to and follow indie voices!

If you want to write about or talk about theatre, just start doing it. Don't rely on it being a paid job and don't despair if you're not read by thousands. Keep going; it'll happen. Keep seeing work. And when you find those shows and artists that you totally understand, your work becomes part of the community.

(And, keep an eye out because I will be running more writing workshops and publicity workshops next year.)

If you're on those big stages and see work on those stages and wonder why all you ever see is star ratings, ask why and speak up.


Sometimes Melbourne celebrates nearly 14 years of writing about theatre in Melbourne.

I don't know what's going to happen next year, but it's time for Sometimes Melbourne to have a break. It's a difficult decision but I don't have the resources or support to keep it going. I'll still write for other publications, teach and see as many shows as possible.

Thank you to every artists and show I've seen. You're all amazing. Thank you for the messages and conversations. Thank you for your work. You make a difference.


And here are my favourite shows and artists of 2019. I'd see every one of them again.

Outstanding artists 2019

WRITING

Zoey Dawson for Australian Realness at Malthouse

Emily Goddard, Chanella Marci. "Australian Realness" Photo by Pia Johnson

Bridget Mackey for Love/Chamberlain at Theatre Works

Rebekah Hill, Dana Miltins. "Love Chamberlain"

Special mention

Wil Greenway for Either Side of Everything at MICF

Will Greenway

DESIGN

Costume 
Gabriela Tylesova for Muriel's Wedding: The Musical, Global Creatures in association with Sydney Theatre Company

"Muriel's Wedding"

Set/lighting
Kate Davies/Emma Valente for Unwoman, The Rabble at The Substation

"Unwoman" by The Rabble. Photo by Pier Carthew

Lighting
Clare Springett for Oil at Red Stitch.

"Oil". Photo by John Lloyd Fillingham

PERFORMANCE

The cast of Anthem, Arts Centre Melbourne at MIAF

Maude Davey, Reef Ireland, Ruci Kaisila, Thuso Lekwape, Amanda Ma, Maria Mercedes, Tony Nikolakopoulos, Eryn Jean Norvill, Sahil Saluja, Osamah Sami, Eva Seymour, Carly Sheppard,  Jenny M Thomas, Dan Witton 

"Anthem" Photo by Pia Johnson

The cast of Unwoman, The Rabble at The Substation
Part I: Annalise Matthews, Toni Main, Robyn McMicking, Anna Nottle and Mattie Young
Part II: Dana Miltins and Mary Helen Sassman
Part II: Yumi Umiumare
Testimonials ead by Mila Jennings


Special mentions

Helena Dix as Norma in Norma, Melbourne Opera

Nick Simpson-Deeks as George in Sunday in the Park with George, Watch This

Christie Whelan Brown as Tania in Muriel's Wedding: The Musical, Global Creatures in association with Sydney Theatre Company

Helena Dix. "Norma"

Nick Simspson-Deeks, Vidya Makan. "Sunday in the Park with George"

Keep an eye on

Luisa Scrofani in My Brilliant Career, the Sir Zelman Cowen School of Music, the Centre for Theatre and Performance and Monash Academy of Performing Arts in association with the Jeanne Pratt Musical Theatre Artists in Residence Program.

Luisa Scrofany. "My Brilliant Career"

DIRECTION

Declan Green for Wake in Fright, Malthouse

"Wake in Fright". Photo by Pia Johnson

Everything they do rocks 2019

Everyone at The Butterfly Club for supporting, promoting and presenting independent cabaret, comedy, music and theatre more than anyone else in town.

Everyone includes:
All staff who program, promote and organise.
All the front of house.
All the bar staff.
Anyone I missed.
And everyone involved with Enter Closer, Crowded and the other managed venues during festivals.

The Butterfly Club. Photo by Stano Murin

The Butterfly Club celebrated its 20th birthday this year. After moving from South Melbourne, it's now tucked away in a three-level wonderland in Carson Place in the middle of the city (boxed by Swanston, Elizabeth, Collins and Bourke streets).

Every night there are between two and eight different shows that include regular nights, independent shows and venue-produced shows. They support indie artists from the application process to front of house staff and help with promotion and media.

Artists who perform there talk about being welcomed into a family.

Audiences love the place. From the changing menu of cocktails to hanging around and analysing at the minimalist decor*, it's a joy to be there.

(And one day, there will be some funding to deal with the access issues of a very old building with lots of stairs.)

*not minimalist. My favourites are the art deco cat lamp, the Ginger and Fred series of photos, and the framed and stuffed kitten tea towel.


and


Lessons with Luis

Lessons With Luis

I genuinely don't understand how Luis and his family aren't international superstars.

When I see a Lessons with Luis show, I forget about being a reviewer because I am so happy to be there. The work is so complete that the line between character and performer doesn't exist and they tell a truth about families and grief that is so real that I don't want to be confronted with the idea that it's a performance.

And Luis likes cats. 

This year I saw Stickin' Together at MICF and went to Yadna's 47th Birthday.

Outstanding productions 2019

MUSICAL

Come From Away, multiple producers

"Come From Away". Photo by Jeff Busby

Special mention

Polygamy, Polygayou, produced by Clare Rankine at Melbourne Fringe

"Polygamy, Polygayou". Photo by Ling Duong

COMMERCIAL

Harry Potter and the Cursed Child, parts one and two, multiple producers


COMEDY

Cassie Workman, Giantess at MICF

Cassie Workma

Special mentions
Patrick Collins Mime Consultant at MICF

Joshua Ladgrove pumps your bilge at MICF and Melbourne Fringe

Completely Improvised Potter, Soothplayers at MICF and Melbourne Fringe

Frobert and Ladgrove

"Patrick Collins Mime Consultant"

"Completely Improvised Potter". Photo by Mark Gambi

CABARET

BOOBS by Selina Jenkins at Melbourne Fringe

Special mention

Garbage Monster by Alice Tovey, Hot Mess Productions and The Butterfly Club at MICF

Selina Jenkins

 

Alice Tovey

DANCE

Collossus, Stephanie Lake Company, Arts Centre Melbourne at MIAF

"Collossus"

OPERA

Norma, Melbourne Opera

Best of the best 2019

The Butch Monologues, Theatre Works and Stage Mom at Midsumma

cast of "The Butch Monologues"

Harry Potter and the Cursed Child, parts one and two, multiple producers

"Harry Potter and the Cursed Child"

Keep, Daniel Kitson at MICF

Daniel Kitson

Barbara and the Camp Dogs, Malthouse presents a Belvoir production

Elaine Crombie, Ursula Yovich. "Barbara and the Camp Dogs". Photo by Pia Johnson

Waterloo by Bron Batten at Melbourne Fringe

Bron Batten. "Waterloo". Photo by Theresa Harrison

My favourite show of 2019

The Living Room by Amrita Dhaliwal and Gemma Soldati at Melbourne Fringe

Amrita Dhalial and Gemma Soldati. "The Living Room"

 Which is coming back for comedy festival!

Past favourites.
2018

2017
2016

2015

2014

2013

2012

2011 

2010 

2009 

2008 

2007

What Melbourne Loved in 2019, part 3

Today are another three of my favourite people; we'd make a very good lunch foursome. All refuse to accept the blah images that are forced on women and work to encourage and support opinions and voices that are still put in the margins.

And Sometimes Melbourne is always happy to go to other places, like Adelaide.

Write your contibution here.

It can be one moment or lots, or a list or a poem or whatever you want your answer to be.

Bron Batten
Theatre-maker, producer and performer

Bron Batten. Photo by Theresa Harrison

Favourite moments in 2019.
Mine is a rather long list but I saw a lot of great work this year so bear with me. In no particular order I very much enjoyed:

Leah Shelton’s Bitch on Heat, a searing examination of female rage and patriarchal violence.

Gary Abrahams’s epic 33 Variations, featuring a stunning performance from elderly Academy Award–winning Ellen Burstyn, taking up all of the space and eating all of the furniture.

Joshua Ladgrove Presents Melbourne’s Only Bilge Pump Sales Seminar at Melbourne Fringe was the kind of absurd, improvisational and gross brilliance we’ve come to expect from the ex-Neal Portenza.

Lady Example by Alice Dixon, Caroline Meaden and William McBride at Dance Massive proved that contemporary dance can be smart and silly and accomplished all at the same time.

It’s always great to see what Aphids are up to and Mish Grigor’s Exit Strategies at Arts House was no exception.

Back to Back’s The Shadow Whose Prey the Hunter Becomes at Melbourne International Arts Festival proved why they’re one of the most interesting companies working in Australia at the moment.

Images from Emma Hall’s World Problems have stayed with me since I saw it way back in March.

Recently, I saw Children of the Evolution at Due West Festival and it melted even my cold, cynical heart.

I also had the pleasure of witnessing the evolution of Passenger during the UK premiere of the work at the Greenwich and Docklands International Festival in London in June.

Special mention to two of the amazing shows I saw in Edinburgh that aren’t Melbourne based: Belgian company Ontroerend Goed’s Are We Not Drawn Forward To New Era and Sh!t Theatre’s Shit Theatre Drink Rum with Expats. If you get the chance to ever see these two works then please go go go go go.

Looking forward to in 2020.
I’m looking forward to seeing Fun Home again as I wept through the first time I saw it at the Young Vic last year and thus the whole show was rather blurry. I want to finally volunteer to be a part of post’s Oedipus Schmoedipus at Asia TOPA, though I’d also settle for just seeing it again. Oh and Patricia Cornelius’s Do Not Go Gentle... and Stephen Nicolazzo’s Loaded at Malthouse. More big Australian work please.

SM: Bron's Waterloo had its first season at Melbourne Fringe; it's touring next year and if I had any money, I'd follow her like a groupie just to sit in different audiences and see how they react to the show. It's a show about choices and how we judge other people; about being not-as-right-as-we-think-we-are – or as left. Near the end of the night, without any explanation or discussion, she gives the audience a choice to cross a line they would swear they would never cross. Some do. They do it with joy and glee; all it takes is opportunity and silence to cross a line. I'm still thinking about it.

And I'll happily keep seeing Onstage Dating until I see a happy ending.


Claire Glenn
Artistic Director SAYarts, Creative Producer ExpressWay Arts, Theatre Maker, Actor, Lover of theatre and cats.

Claire Glenn. Photo by Sam Oster, Silver Trace

Favourite moments in 2019.
I'm living in Adelaide. I definitely had three favourite theatre moments. The Second Woman: I give endless thanks to Emma Webb for working so hard to bring this to Adelaide. I could only stay for a little over 5 hours but it was EVERYTHING.

Also Femme by Erin Fowler spoke to me on so many levels. Erin is an incredible performer and I loved the honesty of her journey from girlhood to womanhood and what it is to be sexualised in this work. It was so beautiful to be able to spend time with her in the Yurt at the conclusion of the piece.

And £¥€$ by Ontroerend Goed for Oz Asia Festival helped me understand the world of global finance in a way that I don't think I've ever been able to comprehend. Oz Asia in general is my favourite festival in Adelaide and as a whole would be my favourite moment of 2019.

Looking forward to in 2020.
I'm looking forward to the beast that is Adelaide Fringe and finding the gems within the thousands of shows. I'm really looking forward to Rumpus's next season. The 2019 season was so fantastic so I can't wait to see what they program next.

I'm keen for Fire Gardens, Breaking The Waves, Mouth Piece, Dimanche and basically the whole theatre program at Adelaide Festival. I can't wait to see what Oz Asia has lined up. Plus all of the fantastic youth theatre that will created by young people in 2020.

SM: It's sad for us that Claire isn't in Melbourne anymore, but it sure is Adelaide's gain. I still remember her performance in a show back in 2006/07. She now works with young theatre makers in Adelaide and often makes me want to fly over and see the work she's helped create.


Monique Grbec
Sometimes critic, Sometimes Melbournian, Always proud Aboriginal woman

Monique Grbec selfie

Favourite moments in 2019.
Thanks to the absolute privilege of being welcomed into the critic world, I've been fortunate enough to see heaps of incredible theatre this year. So much love and blessings go out to the creative beauties who bared their heart and made me cry and laugh, and see the world from different perspectives.

Five that regularly revisit my thoughts are: Scar Trees, Conversations with the Dead, Gender Euphoria, Blood on the Dance Floor and Barbara and the Camp Dogs.

Special mention to Tales of an Urban Indian, a Canadian show that came out for Yirramboi First Nations Festival. Brutal, ugly and beautiful. Tears still sting when parts of that story re-emerge;  I think it will take me many years to unpack.

Looking forward to in 2020.
My fingers are crossed across my heart with the prospect of heading to Perth for their festival...

SM: I was meant to be with Monique for Tales of an Urban Indian but I had the wrong time in my head; I still regret that. However, she's made sure that I've seen some other amazing shows this year. It may be hard to believe but critics sometimes need to form their own mini community. I read all of her reviews on Witness.

What Melbourne Loved in 2019, part 1

What Melbourne Loved officially starts in December, but let's get started now. OK, this is a reminder to write your contributions. Fill in this form.

And what better way to start than with three of my favourite people, artists and creators who all put perspectives, concepts, point of views, writing and artists that are STILL dismissed or ignored on our stages. This is why we keep coming back to theatre.


Stephen Nicolazzo 
Director
Little Ones Theatre

Stephen Nicolazzo

Favourite moments in 2019.
The works that really stayed with me this year were a combination of fierce feminist performance art, dance and fiery theatricality. My all-time favourite moment of 2019 was Bitch on Heat by Leah Shelton at Theatre Works. It was pure genius: violent, sexy, disturbing, visually arresting and genre bending. One of the most glorious examples of how heightened physical performance can touch the soul, be critical and have a vital and unique pulse. I have not stopped thinking about it.

Other works that shook me were Antony Hamilton’s sensual, expressionistic masterpiece Token Armies for Chunky Move and the Melbourne International Arts  Festival, The Rabble's poignant and darkly humorous Unwoman, Bron Batten’s deeply confessional and arresting Waterloo at Melbourne Fringe,  Adena Jacobs’s horrifying and nightmarish Titus Andronicus at Bell Shakespeare, and two shows in New York (which I know are not Melbourne but too good not to mention!): Heidi Schreck’s deeply moving political meditation What The Constitution Means to Me directed by Oliver Butler, and Jacquiline Novak’s feminist manifesto about giving head, Get On Your Knees at Cherry Lane Theatre.

A personal highlight was meeting camp and queer theatre legend Charles Busch (writer of Psycho Beach Party) in New York City and getting the chance to spend a day with him talking about queer theatre history, the significance of comedy and his run in with Paul McCartney. I also had the pleasure of attending the 2019 Director’s Lab at Lincoln Centre Theatre. It gave me a new love and appreciation of Melbourne theatre and all of the vital and exciting work we create. Also, directing the INCREDIBLE Joel Bray in his work Daddy, which was presented as part of Yirramboi Festival, Liveworks and Brisbane Festival. AND FINALLY, getting to reunite The Happy Prince team after two and a half years at Griffin Theatre Companyin Sydney. Truly nourishing.

Oh! And getting to do Merciless Gods at Arts Centre Melbourne was the single greatest theatrical experience of my life?!

Looking forward to in 2020.
Asia TOPA's presentation of The Seen and Unseen, Jenny Kemp's production of Anatomy of a Suicide at Red Stitch, Paul Capsis and Michael Kantor's Go To Hell at Malthouse, K-Box at Malthouse, Triple X at Queensland Theatre/STC, and anything at Arts House, Dance House and the many exciting shows and events for Asia TOPA and the new Melbourne Festival.

SM: Stephen convinced me to go ahead with this again this year. As I see everything he does, I'd already seen the work he got to remount this year, except Daddy. I tried both seasons and sometimes it's not possible. But there is another chance next year.


Mama Alto
Jazz singer, cabaret artiste and gender-transcendent diva

Mama Alto. Photo by Alexis Desaulniers-Lea

Favourite moments in 2019.
I loved seeing the virtuosic piano performances of Andrea Katz deftly incorporated into the Cameron Lukey and Gary Abrahams's vision of 33 Variations.

I loved the absolute triumph of Queen Kong during Midsumma: Sarah Ward and her incredible band, with fully integrated Auslan with interpreter Kirri Dangerfield and Deaf interdisciplinary artist Asphyxia, on a journey through the cosmos and the interior universe of the human psyche, confronting so many of our contemporary issues through glam rock cabaret. And that powerhouse voice!

Looking forward to in 2020.
I am looking forward to hopefully seeing even more; one of the hardest things, for me, about working in the arts is that sometimes you miss out on seeing things because you're also doing a show!

SM: The absolute gut-felt joy of Gender Euphoria at Midsumma will be a life-long favourite moment. Then multiplying that again at Gender Euphoria at the Melbourne International Arts Festival. I feel better about life just by thinking about it again. As a critic, I get dismissed for criticising shows that dismiss how they perpetuate fucked-up and hurtful ideas about gender, race and sexuality (last week, I saw an opera that still has people onstage in unnecessary slanty-eye make up). So when artists like Mama and Maude Davey and producers like Daniel Clarke make and support shows that show us how the world should be, our community shares a sigh of relief. Is it really so hard to think about the impact your art has on your audience? Of course, it is easier to not invite people who might not shower you with meaningless stars and to encourage an audience who all look and think alike.

But nothing was quite as good as the look on Mama's face when she arrived at her surprise-birthday-party-cum-intimate-performance-spectacular, organised by Creatrix Tiara. 


Robert Reid
Playwright, game maker, critic

Robert Reid. Photo by Sarah Walker

Favourite moments in 2019.
MDLSX by Motus at Arts House.  Okay, I guess if I had to pick one thing, then it would actually be this because this is the first thing I think of every time I think of filling in this form. Incredible solo performance, and incredible use of tech, sound, light, story, meta narrative.  Hard, fast, brutal, honest, smart... yeah, MDLSX was my fave, I guess.

BUT, Barbara and the Camp Dogs at Malthouse comes a close second. Terrific night in the theatre; never felt for a moment the show didn't care if I was there or not; told the story we need to keep hearing; not a dry eye in the house; rock and roll theatre.

If they were they only things I'd seen all year, I'd have been pretty happy.

Looking forward to in 2020. 
I dunno, it's so hard to look forward to things at the moment. I'll be happy just to see who survives into 2020. What I'd like to be looking forward to is a restructuring of the funding models and an increase in budgetary allowance for the arts... Is that so much to hope for?

There is at least one show I'm looking forward to next year. Sipat Lawin is coming out with are you ready to take the law into your own hands. I am going the hell to that, I can tell you.

SM: I'm pretty chuffed that Witness is still going, but it's too easy to choose my favourite Rob moment this year: The Bacchae. Produced by MUST at La Mama, written (over many years) and directed by Rob, and with a huge cast of the most amazing women and female-identifying performers, it was an epic afternoon and evening of theatre that put women in the centre of the stories and found the point of views that are too often ignored, even when women are the story.


2018
2017
2016
2014
2013
2012

Melbourne Fringe: The good news stories

MELBOURNE FRINGE
12–29 September 2019
melbournefringe.com.au





So Melbourne Fringe is over and we have a couple nights off before Melbourne Festival begins. I saw a lot of shows – I think 31, but it's a blurr – and missed that many again that I wanted to see.

So many people don't see, go to or cover Fringe because of the big curated Festival – and they miss out on so much. Melbourne Fringe is the event where we see the beginnings of works that go on to change how we make theatre. It's where we see stuff that will never be seen again. It's where you will see an artist who connects with you and you and know that you are going to see everything they do. It's where arts community and audiences are developed and built, and where no one gives a toss what the sponsors think.

These are some of the many good news stories this Fringe.

Danny Delahunty and his team creating a new Fringe Hub at Trades Hall. So many more venues. A place full of history that reminds us every moment that the word "union" means working together.

Indie media stepping up again. There was the ARTery podcast - EVERY DAY, thanks to Jason Cavanagh and host extraordinaire May Jasper. Myron My at My Melbourne Arts saw 61 shows! And wrote about them. The only way to get the context, depth and importance of this event is to see a lot.

Awards. Yep, sometimes awards they are guff, but a lot of Fringe prizes are support to get to other festivals, and the "best" ones are decided by panels of industry people who also see so many shows throughout the festival. It's one to be genuinely chuffed about.

Ones that made me smile.

Andi Snelling's Happy-Go-Wrong is off to the Adelaide fringe.  (I talked about this on ARTery podcast.)

Andi Snelling.  Happy-Go-Wrong

Bron Batten's Waterloo is off to North Melbourne and to Edinburgh. I can't wait to see what this show becomes. This means that I somehow have to get to Edinburgh next year. As an arts writer, if I saved everything I earned as an arts writer in a year, I couldn't even get a flight. And that's more than others get.

Oh No, Satan Stole My Pineal Gland directed by Jean Tong and Louisa Wall won Best Ensemble. They were.

Claire Rankine won a producing award for Polygamy, Polygayu, which she also directed  and it was developed and performed by Alice Tovey, Charity Werk, Margot Tanjutco and Hayley Tantau.

Alice Tovey, Margot Tanjutco, Charity Werk, Polygamy, Polygayou. Photo by Ling Duong

Bryony Kimmings won Best Theatre for I'm a Phoenix, Bitch (ARTery podcast). She's still one of my favourite artists and even if I wasn't 100% sure about this work, its impact is astonishing. I've spoken to people who say their lives have changed since they saw it. Produced by Daniel Clarke and Arts Centre Melbourne.

Selina Jenkins's BOOBS won Best Cabaret. It's one of the best shows I've seen this year (ARTery podcast).

My favourite story is the two clowns from LA, Amritha Kaur Gemma Soldati, who came to Melbourne and knew no one and won Best Comedy. I saw The Living Room because someone from The Butterfly Club told me about it. (Those networks of people really do work.) It only ran for a week and us who saw it now have some pretty good bragging rights. If you missed it – well, I told you it was good.

Frobert and Joshua Ladgrove. Pic nicked off Facebook.

My nearly-favourite story isn't a prize (but this show won the Golden Gibbo at MICF). Joshua Ladgrove Presents Melbourne’s Only Bilge Pump Sales Seminar sold out – in the good way, the every seat filled way. Add an extra star to my comedy festival review. Three years ago, he did a Fringe show with an audience of nine: we will always be the Portenza Nine.

There many other artists and shows that I could mention – and hopefully did on Twitter – , but a lot of them are going to get lots of words in the future. And I many never have known about them if I hadn't seen them in this festival.

Review: Waterloo

MELBOURNE FRINGE
Waterloo
Bron Batten
Brunswick Mechanics Institute - Theatre
to 25 September
melbournefringe.com.au

Bron Batten. "Waterloo" Photo by Theresa Harrison

My review is in Time Out.

And this interview is great for background.

PS. Gary Abrahams was the outside eye for this show and directed the first Onstage Dating.

Interview: Bron Batten background for Waterloo

MELBOURNE FRINGE
Waterloo
Bron Batten
Brunswick Mechanics Institute - Theatre
to 25 September
melbournefringe.com.au

Bron Batten

This isn't a review of Bron Batten's Melbourne Fringe show Waterloo. One is coming. Update: it's here.

It's an interview I did with her in March about her show Onstage Dating. She talks about her "next show" in this interview. Waterloo is the next show.

It was originally published on ArtsHub.  (Give it a read there as well.)

Bron Batten. "Onstage Dating". Photo by Theresa Harrison

I find a hidden Melbourne bar with Google Maps. It’s empty in the mid-afternoon, but there are booths for snuggling, small tables for hand holding and a balcony with flattering natural light. “Are you meeting someone?” the bartender asks as I’m looking at my phone messages. “Yes”. I hope he thinks I'm on a nothing-better-to-do-this-afternoon Tinder date.

I’m not. I’m meeting performance artist Bron Batten, who buys me a beer anyway.

Her show Onstage Dating is playing at The Butterfly Club during the Melbourne International Comedy Festival. We meet at a bar where she’s gone on dates. It’s a great choice. Above the main city street, it’s easy to forget the tourists and takeaway food below – especially as the trams ding-ding and the pale green plane trees give shade and, for once, hold tight to their balls of hay fever fluff.

“Let’s talk about dating,” I start.

She sighs, “What do you want to know?” I know that sigh. It’s the sigh of a 30-something who’s been on a lot of dates.

Batten’s been on 85 onstage dates at festivals and theatres in Australia, New Zealand and the UK. She developed this show when she was granted the Australia Council Cite Des Arts Internationale residency in Paris in 2015. “All that bread, wine and cheese – I had such a terrible time,” she says.

She also went on “about 60” in-real-life dates in Paris; all internet procured. I ask if it was just research. “It was always two birds, one stone,” she says. “I’d never really dated before. I’d always just met people through friends or at the end of the night at the pub.”

The resulting show premiered at the 2016 Festival of Live Art in Melbourne. Batten’s known for work that finds a delightfully awkward and super-smart balance between reality and performance art. She was a founder of The Last Tuesday Society – a much-missed monthly subversive bo-ho performance-comedy-cum-cabaret night – where I remember her singing “Red Headed Woman” naked after Julia Gillard was ousted as prime minister and choreographing a jazz ballet nativity play. She began to get more attention with a show called Sweet Child of Mine, which she performed with her father. It started by asking her country-town parents (she’s one of six siblings) if they really understood why she danced a chicken abortion in an empty swimming pool at university.

In Onstage Dating, her co-performer is a date chosen from the audience. She describes it as “a romantic comedy with weird performance art bits.”

Bron Batten and date. "Onstage Dating". Photo by Theresa Harrison

I saw her first date/show and it’s that and more. It’s every hope and fear you have while dating with the bonus of connecting with other people who make that same dating sigh. Or laugh. Or eye roll. And there’s a sexy bee suit and an apple.

She explains that “it’s not just about online dating. It’s about the vulnerability of meeting someone for the first time. Or the vulnerability to say, I want romance or sex or partnership or companionship … I wanted to capture the expectations and stress of meeting a stranger for a date.”

It’s also about becoming invested in the date. Even knowing that their romance is almost certain not to happen, audiences want the date to go well. We want a happy ending. At least I do.

Batten rolls her eyes when I tell her that I still want to watch a stranger fall for her on stage.

She then tells me she’s been on two second dates following shows.

Neither resulted in a third date.

I can understand if she’s getting cynical about it all until I ask what struck her the most about going on those 60 IRL dates. She says, “hopefulness”.

Theatrically the show captures the hope and vulnerability of showing up and not knowing what to expect. “I don't know what they're going to be like. Are they going to be nice to me? Are they going to be a dick? Are they going to be sweet? What's going to happen? So that feeling that happens in real life is still in the show and the audience recognises that.”

She also has a story about meeting someone on those IRL dates but “that’s the next show”.

Bron Batten and date. "Onstage Dating". Photo by Theresa Harrison

On stage, she’s dated straight, queer, single and partnered men and women, but she thinks that it’s become more about how men behave with women than about the vulnerability of dating.

Her audiences are often mostly women and “there’s a sense of recognition when we share the bad behaviour.” But “it’s not a show that accuses men. It gives them space to be better. It’s just really disappointing when they fuck that up.”

She tells the story of one who fucked up.

“He was very tall, a Disney-prince-type dude with a blue linen shirt, beige pants and boat shoes with no socks – you know that guy. Really tall. Not terribly smart. He came with a whole bunch of friends and I was sort of playing to the friends. I realised that he wasn't very clever, and he sort of clocked that I was making a bit of fun of him. When we were playing Twister [spoiler, her dates play Twister with her], my eyes were at crotch level and he hit me in the face with his cock – on stage. Like a little thrust. Like a little kind of reminder about ‘Hey I’m in charge; know your place’. Like it was it was deliberate smacking me in the face with his dick and I had to make a decision at that point about what to do as a performer and also as a woman.

“Do I call him out? Do I risk turning the audience?

“I am so shocked as well, but I didn't know what to do. So, I let it go. Let’s just get to the end of the show.

“And then, when I took him to the couch and got him to take his shoes off, underneath his oh-so-casual boat shoes he was wearing tiiiiiiiiiiiiiiny little sockets.”

She says the audience snorted with laughter as much as I did at this revelation.

“I was like ‘What are those Michael?’ And I was like ‘I’ve got you, I’ve fucking got you’.

“I did a couple of minutes on his socks. ‘I’m going to tell stories about you.’ The audience were pissing themselves and then he turned. He got really angry and I thought of that Margaret Atwood quote that women are afraid men will kill them and men are afraid women will laugh at them.

“I ridiculed him publicly and that was the worst thing that I could ever do. To my kind of shame, I spent the rest of the show trying to get him back on board because performatively, you know …”

There have been others who behave badly. Like the one in country NSW who acted like he “didn't want to be anywhere near me and the audience were laughing at that, saying ‘ha ha ha’ isn’t that funny when he acts rudely towards this woman”.

“By the end of that tour, I was like: all the guy has to do to win the show is to be a basic human being. Just be basically humanly decent. To not be a dick. You know the joke about a male feminist who walks into a bar because it was set so low. All you have to do is to be a nice human being and it’s amazing how many times the participant fails.

“That’s when I started to realise that this was about more than dating. It was about men’s behaviour in public on dates, in private taking up space … weather they’re ok being in my space or weather they try and claim it back aggressively or by trying to neg me or by trying to make jokes at my expense or at the show’s expense because they’re uncomfortable.

“For a lot of men that’s a very unfamiliar feeling to be in the space and to not know what’s going on, to not feel in charge of it and to not feel entitled to be the centre of it.”

Maybe I don’t want any of these men to fall in love with her. My fantasy of the wonderful story now as flat as the dregs of my beer.

I ask what she does do in real life when it happens?

“Umm … I don't know.

“I’d like to say like to say that I always call them on it, but I don’t. But I think as I get older I’m getting better at it. Calling out shit behaviour is really hard. It’s the hardest.”

I ask why she thinks we still put up with bad behaviour. I’m older than she is and I still put up with it.

We’ve “got this patriarchal structure that tells us that we're wrong all the time and that we're hysterical or we get what we deserve. The ultimate goal in life is to find a partner, right, so you have to suffer whatever. There is a myriad of answers: societal, structural, personal.

“Because it is hard to value yourself.”

We know why we sigh. So, I ask how many men “win” at the show.

“Between 85 and 90 percent.” A much better hit rate than I expected.

“I want them to win. The show’s not about humiliating, it’s the opposite; I always want to make the guy the hero.” She explains how the audience usually clock very early if “the guy’s a jerk” and they mostly don’t let him get away with it.

“I had a guy in Edinburgh who was a big masculine kind of ‘hey’ type dude. Very basic.” He had 80 people boo him for trying to humiliate her. “He was really shocked … so, I was like ‘Give him a go’ and I said to him, ‘See, in the biz, this is what we call turning the crowd.’ … and he spent the rest of the show trying to make up the ground that he’d lost.”

So even the dud dates can come around.

Bron Batten and date. "Onstage Dating". Photo by Theresa Harrison

As we keep talking about dating and the show, she has more positive than negative stories.
Like the “bloke-y tech” who told her that he’d been thinking about the show and how he and his friends talk about and interact with women.

And the guy who talked very lovingly about his mum on stage without knowing that a friend was recording it. And his mum saw it.

And her receiving “this incredible letter” from a date who said, “I didn’t intend to talk about that on stage, but you made me feel so safe and it’s really shifted something in me and I feel like I’ve let it go so thank you for giving me that opportunity”.

And one of Batten’s friend’s telling her that the show inspired her to date again.

And Batten telling me how she can have an opinion of someone and how quickly it changes. “It only takes 40 minutes for them to open up and say things and be silly and construct this kind of fantasy with me.”

I ask if she’s still dating in real life. She laughs with the sigh this time. “That connection is so rare, and people keep looking for it.”

Which is one reason why Onstage Dating is still popular and touring. We keep looking. The two of us share meeting stories we’ve seen. She has a friend who fell in love with the first person they chatted to online, and one who saw someone in the crowd from the stage. I’d recently been to a wedding of a friend who met his husband on a train on a holiday. It happens. Wonderful stories happen.

I still want it to happen for me. And for Bron. I want to tell the story about seeing two strangers falling in love on stage in a performance art show about dating. Or hear about a couple who went on their first date to this show or went by themselves and started talking to the stranger they sat next to.

“Maybe this time, Anne-Marie. Maybe this time,” says Batten as she gets up to leave.

And we should have left together so that the bartender had a good story to tell about the mid-afternoon Tinder date he watched.