Showing posts with label La Mama. Show all posts
Showing posts with label La Mama. Show all posts

16 December 2021

What Melbourne Loved in 2021, part 5

Eugyeen Teh and Keith Gow are both regulars on SM and supporters of SM. Both talk about how they using the endless time of lock down.

Eugyeene Teh
Designer, sewer, really butch gardner

Man in plaid shirt emerging from the smoke of a burning tree
Eugyeene Teh: always dressed perfectly

What theatre/art/creative experience did you love the most 2021 (or 2020)?

When the severe June storm came with its gale-force winds and ravaged many of the trees around us, I noticed that the root balls that used to support these giant 30-metre tall trees were quite small. Which meant that all the other hundreds, thousands of trees that swayed in the winds, bending rhythmically with one another, stayed firmly in place against all odds. There is a lesson to be learnt from this, and I’ve been trying to figure it out.

When we wrapped up Grey Arias at Malthouse in February 2020, just before bumping into the theatre, I parted ways with the production team with a 'farewell' and 'happy projects'. At that time, nobody knew what those words implied, but in hindsight, the cancellation of live performance also meant dedicated time and space for other things that had perpetually been put aside.

What surprised you about finding new ways to make art in locked-down worlds? 
A vast development in digital works that still had a feeling of 'liveness' to them. I feel that our industry has been pushed to reckon with its own form, so creating exciting synergies with new media. It has also a key tool for us as artists to use to push through to the next era, find new forms to engage with audiences, reconsider our values and let go of staid conventions. Also pleased to see creative new ways to make affecting works with more consideration and less resources.

I loved that Lou Wall subverted everything with her online film Lousical the Musical, not just redefining the form of live performance but got even more personal than we’ve ever experienced with her.  I watched Raina Peterson and Govind Pillai explore bodies through online dance works from shower cubicles to the bush in the form of a blob made from Melbourne Fringe festival guides made redundant by endless lockdowns. Earlier on, I witnessed a very live, riotous, meta-theatrical A Disorganized Zoom Reading of the Script from Contagion with a Melbourne all-star cast playing Kate Winslet, Jude Law, Matt Damon, Marion, Laurence, Gwyneth and beyond. Marcus McKenzie blew my mind with The Crying Room for the Melbourne Arts Centre Take Over!  at home residency by plunging us into the dark minds of the internet, reminiscent of Gaspar Noe’s Enter the Void

Stephen Nicolazzo and the students from Sir Zelman Cohwen School of Music and Performance’s Body Horror at Melbourne Fringe justified the black holes existing in our brains with raw, explosive and incredibly fun imagery channeled from the students’ bloodied bedrooms. Finucane and Smith also brought all the intimacy of live performance to the home screen, via a bathtub that reminded us of the plight of the planet and the melting icebergs in Antartica. Patricia Piccinini’s exhibition, A Miracle Constantly Repeated, the only surviving artwork from RISING festival, pushed through with an outpouring of empathy. And Cheryl Ho and her collaborators summoned memories of my displaced home and family in 落叶归根 (Luò yè guī gēn) Getting Home at Melbourne Fringe.
 
What did you do to stay connected to your arts community?

Apart from steadily working through five solid shows that got cancelled just before bump in, I instigated ways to creatively engage with the community through various forms. Ultimately, they served as a documentation or marker of this very significant time that we are all experiencing.

Less minimalist tasks included co-creating an awards ceremony and hand-crafting its physical awards, (my 71-year-old neighbour helped me chainsaw the wood when my chainsaw was getting fixed) on a voluntary capacity, and making customised masks for anyone who wanted them. They were both ultimately rewarding, though unsustainable, and a great learning curve. As an exercise, I was interested in seeing how much I could create and share, with as little time, resource and energy as possible – a mindset or skill I knew that is essential to take into the next era. One of these is a simple, lateral social media persona I created re-framing some menial activities I was already doing: #gardeningwitheugyeene is ironic glam gardening based on true events.
 
What are you looking forward to in 2022?

I look forward to working creatively in the flesh, the thrill of putting up a show, seeing shows again, and seeing friends, in foyers, and free champagne – all in moderation!

SM: Eugyeene became the co-President (with Sapidah Kian) of Melbourne's Green Room Awards in 2020. His discussion of reconsidering our values and letting go of staid conventions is very relevant (and exciting) here.

I have one of Eugyeene's early masks – I have an original Teh! – and he helped inspire me to start sewing. 400+ masks later, the one I was most proud of was one I made for Eugyeene (from sarong fabric I bought in Kuching). I knew that if I could give one to a master stitcher, my skills were heading in the right direction.

Keith Gow
Playwright, reviewer,  knows that sci-fi is as good as those plays we revere
Very productive in lockdown

Man with beard in Alien t-shirt

What theatre/art/creative experience did you love the most 2021 (or 2020)?
For a year that was strangled by multiple lockdowns in Melbourne, I still got to see some great theatre. Come From Away, which I saw for the second time, felt like the perfect return to big budget musicals after a complete absence in 2020. Sexual Misconduct of the Middle Classes was an excellent well-made play at MTC. The immersive experience of Because the Night was truly memorable because of the excellent design and some searing performances, even if the narrative didn’t quite work. The fact we got a new Patricia Cornelius/Susie Dee collaboration in RUNT was very special. And two shows at La Mama Courthouse from new writers made me excited to see where those writers would go: This Genuine Moment and Cactus.

I also adored the Patricia Piccinini exhibition at Flinders St Station, the only part of the first Rise Festival that survived lockdown.

And Daniel Lammin’s Ink & Paint podcast is a truly wonderful thing that has helped me through both years, prompting me to watch classics I’ve never seen or haven’t seen in years, prompting lots of discussions with friends and loved-ones about Disney animated classics.

What surprised you about finding new ways to make art in locked-down worlds?
Even though one particular show I’ve been working on was bumped from two Melbourne Fringes in a row, I’ve been quite lucky to make a few little things over 2020 and 2021 that have been really satisfying. Some of it has been online and some in the flesh (one show I directed ended up doing both) and it felt like a real privilege to being making work happen during these disastrous years.

Zoom rehearsals were a blessing and a curse. Keeping up momentum was really important, particularly during our most recent lockdown with Fringe 2021 in sight. We’d started rehearsing earlier in the year, thinking we had plenty of time and then the floor disappeared from under us again. But being able to keep in touch with actors and have them learn the text during those months was really satisfying. And allowed us to hit the ground running when Melbourne started to open up again.

I had a short play live-streamed last year. I directed a monologue that was filmed in 2020 and then staged in 2021 – and even though those two mediums have fundamental differences, it was fun to find ways to play the same piece differently.

And that play I’ve been working on for two years, well it’s better now than it would have been had we done it at Fringe 2020. Even better than if we’d done it at Fringe 2021. And luckily we get to stage Shakespeare Aliens at Theatre Works in January; our two years of development was not in vain.
 
What did you do to stay connected to your arts community?
I watched some streaming theatre. I chatted with theatre makers on and off Twitter. And I kept writing and sending things off for feedback and development. I kept making work and it’s probably been the most productive two years I’ve had for a decade. It only took a pandemic…

These two years have taught me what my real priorities would be going forward. I’ll probably be writing less reviews in 2022. I’ll still see lots of theatre but I also hope to keep making more. I wrote a full length play this year that’s the best thing I’ve written, so I want to take time to develop it.
 
What are you looking forward to in 2022?
I’m so excited that La Mama is re-opening  with a festival and I can’t wait to see shows in the newly built recreation of the original theatre space. I can’t wait for Looking for Alibrandi at Malthouse, as well as Stay Woke. MTC has a solid year of brand-new works, though I’m excited to see Fun Home again and I can’t wait to catch up with Cyrano and Sunshine Super Girl after they were delayed. And I want to make it to Sydney to finally see The Picture of Dorian Gray after missing out four times (!) so far. I mean, I literally had four different dates over the last two years and two cancelled flights to see it. I need to make this happen.

SM: Shakespeare Aliens. SHAKESPEARE ALIENS!!!!! I love Aliens. (I love Alien more, but that's a different show.) I've been looking forward to this for a long time and it may take an alien invasion to stop me seeing it in January at Theatre Works.

I've missed talking to Keith after shows. He sees so many shows and is one of the biggest supporters of indie theatre in Melbourne. I look forward to much more talking next year.

10 February 2021

Review: Jofus and the Whale

Jofus and the Whale
Fish and Twiner's Bait Shop
La Mama

9 February 2021
La Mama Courthouse
to 21 February
lamama.com.au


Lily Fish in "Jofus and the Whale"

The first night back at La Mama since March 2020. Friends, strangers and sparkling plonk! What an unmitigated delight! 

And Jofus and the Whale is even more delightful. And perhaps the perfect metaphor for getting out of 2020 is Jofus escaping from a whale's gross and squelchy – so squelchy – insides.

Jofus in red nose, white tights, red striped socks and a tailored button-up jack and matching beret is Lily Fish's clown. Fish and her director Kimberley Twiner are founding members of the outrageously wonderful ensemble PO PO MO CO, who spent a lot of lock down dancing in the front yard of a house in Brunswick for passing traffic. PO PO MO CO often make shows for grownups, but Jofus is for everyone.

It’s a story of a Jofus and a whale. And a fish called Roger. And a dog called Samantha. It's a bit Moby Dick, biblical Jonah, Everybody Poops, Jacques Cousteau, and a reflection on obsession.

And it’s physical comedy at its most- skilled and honed. Being multiple characters, contemplating quests, and taking on the responsibility of being the first show in a theatre-as-loved-as-much-as-Melbourne-itself is a mighty task. Being your authentic clown that could only be from your heart, and letting audiences know and love you without any barriers is also a mighty task.

In her director's notes Twiner talks about clowning,  being alone and the important thrill of play and being stupid: "When the idiot is truly initiated, they have become brave, brave enough to do something very scary, to stand there, alone to look people in the eye, and to simply be one big-huge-absolute-unforgettable-unmistakeable dingus."

Jofus is a dingus, a dingus who is as thrilled to be back in theatre as theatre is thrilled to see Jofus. Twiner’s direction keeps the story moving and doesn’t let Jofus be indulgent, and Lisa Mibus’s lighting creates a world that’s easy to believe is under the sea or in a whale.

Jofus and the Whale is joyous. And wonderfully odd in all the ways that leave you grinning inanely for an hour. Underneath your mask, of course.

12 December 2019

What Melbourne Loved in 2019, part 8

Today we hear from Charlotte, Beng and Christopher.

There's still time to contribute, but not much; it's not going all the way through the month this year. The form is linked on all the early parts. Or all the info is here.

Charlotte Strantzen Bair
Actor, presenter, theatre-maker and mother to two amazing humans

Charlotte Strantzen Bair


Favourite moments in 2019.
I'm thrilled that 2019 held more highlights than lowlights for me, with some really bright spots. My musical theatre picks for the year were Muriel's Wedding and Come from Away. I wasn't sure how I'd feel about Muriel.  Would the film translate to stage? Will it have aged well? Any cynicism in me was quickly washed away by the sheer joy of the show, with Kate Miller-Heidke and Keir Nuttall's music being ably performed by a fabulous cast (including, I discovered while watching, the wonderful Caleb Vines, whom I shared a stage with many times in the early 2000s in school holiday pantomimes! It made my year to see him all grown up and working in such a successful show). Come From Away was everything it was cracked up to be and more. It felt especially personal to us as my husband was in the USAA and away from family on September 11, so the emotional reaction was strong. I'm enjoying listening to the soundtrack now!

I saw some excellent kids theatre with my children, including ROFLSHALBOWCO by The Listies (not just for children!) at the Malthouse and Mad as a Cute Snake by Amelia Evans and Dan Giovannoni at Theatre Works. It's a real treat to see companies produce work that respects their young audiences and pushes the boundaries without making a big deal of it.

In comedy, I loved Keep at MICF by Daniel Kitson – I could listen to his storytelling for hours (and have!) – and Hot Donkey by Northern Ireland's Paul Currie, which takes on particular significance this week after the death of his hero, Caroll Spinney. Months later, I still find myself randomly breaking out into "Pandas for hands, I've got pandas for hands!".

My heart was warmed to see my friend and colleague Andi Snelling back on stage with Happy-Go-Wrong, which, as  already  mentioned in this series, is a great achievement. And, whie it didn't hit all the marks for me, I really enjoyed Raw Material and Traverse Theatre Company's What Girls Are Made Of as part of the Melbourne Interntional Festival of Arts.

Looking forward to in 2020.
Harry Potter and the Cursed Child, at long last! My brother and I are taking Mum for her 70th birthday...totally selflessly, of course! And, in a not-strictly-theatre sense, I am hanging out for My Dad Wrote a Porno in January and Tim Minchin's encore tour of Back in March.

SM: There are people who are always working and performing but we don't see them in our reviews and on the big stages. Charlotte makes theatre in homes and at parties and events. She (and her husband and colleauges) do murder mystery parties and theme parties and children's parties. They get to know their audiences in ways that few performers do. They make events become "the best day of my life". That's pretty great.

(PS. Are we allowed to start a count down to #MelbournePornoDay?)

Beng Oh
Director and theatre maker

Beng Oh


Favourite moments in 2019.
I didn’t see as much as I would have liked to this year but having said that, stand-outs for me include:

Ars Nova’s production of Underground Railroad Game at Malthouse. A funny, subversive and disturbing look at race relations with fully committed performances. Troubling in a good way.

Samah Sabawi’s Them at La Mama was beautifully directed by Bagryana Popov with a strong cast. It’s on the Victorian Premiere’s Literary Awards 2020 drama shortlist and is coming back in 2020 at the Arts Centre.

Also at La Mama, Rory Godbold’s When The Light Leaves was a timely piece as assisted dying laws came into effect. It’s a moving production that’s coming back for Midsumma 2020.

Declan Greene’s production of Wake in Fright at  Malthouse with Zahra Newman was simply brilliant and sucked you in right from the word go.

Opera Australia’s production of Aribert Reimann’s Ghost Sonata was a knockout. The singers sang some extremely tricky music with aplomb (and excellent diction) and Greg Eldridge’s production, in surreal designs by Emma Kingsbury, brought a really difficult piece to life.

Stephanie Lake’s Colossus with nearly 50 dancers was hypnotic and entrancing and I would have been happy to immediately watch it a second time. Still on dance, Hofesh Shechter’s exhilarating Grand Finale at MIAF really felt like the culmination of their work to date.

Anthem directed by Susie Dee at MIAF skilfully wove together five writers and a large cast into a memorable piece of theatre.

Last, but not least, Laurence Strangio’s The Year of Magical Thinking had a luminous performance by Jillian Murray coupled with exquisite lighting by Andy Turner.


Looking forward to in 2020.
Lots of things, not least of which are the Mozart Requiem by Romeo Castelluci, Robert Icke’s The Doctor, and Enter Achilles by DV8 (I can’t see it but I’m still excited by it) at Adelaide Festival.

Two shows in Melbourne stand out though. I missed it first time round and am excited about seeing Joel Bray’s Daddy. It’s queer, indigenous work with the lot. And sugar, lots of sugar. Not to be missed.

Susie Dee and Patricia Cornelius teaming up once more on Do Not Go Gentle... at Malthouse. I first saw the play in Julian Meyrick’s production at fortyfivedownstairs in 2010 and can’t wait to see what this latest production is like.

SM: I really enjoyed Beng's direction of Daniel Keene's Wild Cherries at La Mama, but what I remember most is how he let us see Cock though the hearts of the characters and brought a new reading to the well-known play. It was soooo hot that night in fortyfivedownstairs and, even while we melted, the audience were totally gripped by the story.

Christopher Bryant
Playwright, academic, sometimes performer

Christopher Bryant. Photo by Sarah Walker
Favourite moments in 2019.
I saw Barbara and the Camp Dogs and Underground Railroad Game at Malthouse in the same week and nine months later, I'm still thinking about them both. They both expertly navigated hilarity through some really dark places, and were all the more affecting for it.

The end of Working With Children by Nicola Gunn. I'd watch her eat cereal (but like, not in a creepy way), so, of course, I loved her performance. But the way it ended – kind of, leaving the audience in all these questions she'd raised, watching all these machine-based optical illusions work in silence – was oddly touching and a little bit magical. I didn't feel like the veil of "theatre" lifted until hours later.

House Sisters by Michelle Lee and the Monash Centre of Theatre and Performance: hilarious and kind of sickening in parts and genuinely kept me unsure where it was going to end up. Just really well made and written, directed and performed by some wonderful young actors.

Daddy by Joel Bray. Beautiful, beautifully made, and again, sat on the knife's edge between camp ridiculousness, intelligence and a deep well of hurt. He also navigated audience involvement/interaction incredibly well.

Looking forward to in 2020.
Loaded by Dan Giovannoni and Christos Tsiolkas (directed by Stephen Nicolazzo) and Prima Facie by Suzie Miller (directed by Lee Lewis) at Malthouse.

The Feather in the Web by Nick Coyle (directed by Declan Greene) and Orlando by Sarah Ruhl (directed by Stephen Nicolazzo) at Red Stitch.

The Great Australian Play by Kim Ho and Wellbless by Debra Thomas and Ella Roth Barton at Theatre Works.

SM: I got to see two new productions of Christopher's plays in the same week: The Other Place at Theatre Works and Disinibition at MUST. Both approached and directed in such different ways; both sharing his writing and themes and emotions in such different ways. What an amazing way to get to know a writer and their work. What an amazing experience for a writer!





27 November 2019

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 FringeAdena 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


15 November 2019

Not a review: The Audition

The Audition
Outer Urban Projects and La Mama
14 November 2019
La Mama Courthouse
to 24 November
lamama.com.au
outerurbanprojects.org

"The Audition" Peter Paltos, Sahra Davioudi. Photo by Darren Gill

Last night, the door prize at La Mama was a copy of No friend but the mountains by Behrouz Boochani‎. Where I was standing, there were murmurs of "the guy on Manus from Iran" and everyone wanted it. After all, we were at the opening night of The Audition, a new multi-writer work by Outer Urban Projects about the experiences of asylum seekers and immigrants in Australia.

This book won the 2019 Victorian Prize for Literature. This is Australia's richest literary prize; it's one writers aspire to win. Boochani is a Kurdish refugee from Iran. He has wasn't at the ceremony when he won because he was still incarcerated on Manus Island. The book was written by text messages; the same way he written for The Guardian in recent years. (Links are to Guardian stories.)

Directed by Irine Vela, The Audition project has been developed by working with and sharing stories with artists who are also asylum seekers. With contributions from writers Patricia Cornelius, Tes Lyssiotis, Sahra Davioudi, Christos Tsiolkas, Melissa Reeves, Milad Norouzi and Wahibe Moussa, it's a not-miss before it even gets seen.

There are theatre in-jokes as it compares the power imbalance of the theatre audition process to how immigrants have to audition to be "good Aussies", and personal confessions and stories that affirm that so much of Australia's attitude and government response to refugees and asylum seekers is racist and ignorant and the cause of so so much suffering.

While each has it's own strength and emotional drive, the theme feels forced at times and the strength and power of the writing varies, as do the performances; the writers Davioudi and Norouzi also perform and are joined by Mary Sitarenos, Peter Paltos and Vahideh Eisaei.

None of which takes away from why this project is on our stage. But I left wondering how a work like this reaches anyone who doesn't already believe everything it's saying.

Then this happened last night.

Behrouz Boochani‎ is free because of a writers festival in New Zealand. A writers festival.

So, let's keep telling, writing, reading and seeing stories, even if no attitudes change, because telling stories is how the world will get better. Telling stories is how creative minds find solutions to horror and work towards humanity. Telling stories – even if no one except the inner-city leftie woke read the book – is how Behrouz Boochani is finally FINALLY out of the hell that Australians put him in.



From this story. 

05 September 2019

Reviews: The Festival of Bryant (The Other Place & Disinhibition)

The Other Place
Theatre Works and Before Shot
29 August 2019
Theatre Works
to 8 September
theatreworks.org.au

"The Other Place" by Theatre Works

Disinhibition
MUST
31 August 2019
MUST Space, Monash University Clayton campus
to 7 September
msa.monash.edu/events/disinhibition/

"Disinhibition" by MUST. Photo by Aleks Corke


Melbourne playwright Christopher Bryant had two new shows open last week: The Other Place at Theatre Works and Disinhibition at MUST.

This is a rare opportunity to not only see two new works by the same author but to see how different director, casts and creators approach his writing.

The Other Place, directed by Jessica Dick, is a meta theatrical imagining of the lives of two women who nudged the dullness in theatre in the 1970s by creating alternative venues for contemporary voices.

Buzz Goodbody was the first female director at The Royal Shakespeare in London and was the instigator and founding associate director of The Other Place, the RSC's black box studio theatre formed to present small-scale experimental works. Her direction was praised by audiences and critics, especially for King Lear and Hamlet. Betty Burstall formed La Mama here in Melbourne in 1967 and fought to keep the small experimental theatre space open in the 1970s.  La Mama remains one of the most influential theatre spaces in Australia. And still serves free tea and coffee, like Burstall introduced.

Written like it could be performed in either venue, Bryant explores the women's imagined inner thoughts by playing with the styles of theatre they worked with, ranging from Elizabethan to Post Modern. It's filled with the theatre jokes but comes back to the importance of theatre being a safe place if your community isn't welcoming. Both women faced conservative governments and attitudes; if only their stories were something from the past.

The cast of five women all play Buzz and Betty, each with more of their own personality than that of the women they didn't know. This makes it feel intimate and helps connect with the actors – who have all found their personal connection to one or the other women – but it's not as easy to really discover the characters. The women never met despite their similar goals, but one of the most emotionally engaging scenes is when they meet at a fictionalised tv interview. Letting them interact gives the work a story that's more than just a celebration of their lives.

Goodyear died by suicided in 1975; Burstall died in 2013. I learnt a lot about both of them. Sometimes we need to remember that known names were people who never believed they'd be people who playwrights would write about.

Dishinibition, directed by Yvonne Virsik, is far more about contemporary reality as it explores the unreality of social media where a puppy pic can lead to the unimaginable.

George is Boyance is on Tumbler; he really doesn't like the persona he's become. Flick is Flick.Eats on Instagram; she gets vegan takeaway and pretends she made it. Tay is an acronym for Totally About You on Twitter; she's an imagined artificial intelligence bot programmed to interact with influencers like George and Flick. Tay is the only one who believes that her net self is real; perhaps  intelligence can overcome its artifice.

I don't have as many followers as any of them.

Like The Other Place, the cast, who are all students at Monash, play multiple roles and it takes time to put the jigsaw together of how early scenes fit in. But as characters stay with the same actors in Dishinibition, it's easier to find the experiences to connect with – even if it's with the bot.

Its strength lies with a cast who can only imagine what life was like before the internet and understand the positive and negatives about communicating with people you may never really know or meet. And they instinctively understand that our social media personalities are mask and performance. Bringing this concept onto the stage feels as natural as checking Facebook (I'm showing my age).

Virsik lets them find their personal connection to the work while giving the overall structure a tighter shell that lets the ideas dance like gifs without distracting from the narrative progression.

If you have to choose which play to see during The Festival of Bryant, Dishinibition is stronger and feels so much like now that it may be written about in the future as a play that captured the period before we really understood the impact of AI. And MUST continues to be the Melbourne theatre secret that develops some of our most successful theatre makers  – Bryant was at MUST – and makes theatre with students that is nothing like student theatre.

But also see The Other Place because this is Melbourne and imagining theatre here without La Mama isn't possible.




02 September 2019

Opportunity to see: Helping Hands

Helping Hands
A-tistic
La Mama Courthouse
7–10 August
lamama.com.au
a-tistic.com.au




Helping Hands is the fourth work by A-tistic and it had a three-day run at La Mama in August. For everyone who saw it, we know how lucky we were. For the rest, it's available as a captioned video stream until 13 September.

Get your ticket here.
(https://www.eventbrite.com.au/e/video-ticket-watch-helping-hands-2019-from-home-tickets-70885844469)

This independent company make theatre that looks at theatre stories and stages through neurodivergent experiences. They know that many existing and potential audiences and theatre makers want or need different ways of experiencing theatre. They highlight how many people are kept out of this world that claims to be so open and accepting. They highlight how many people are kept out of a lot of things.

A-tistic began at MUST (Monash University Student Theatre) in 2014 with a show called Them Aspies. It was about the experience of being on the autism spectrum and created and performed by a group of neurodiverse students. Its success led to a second season and its story and process led to the formation of a company and three original new works: Pinocchio Restrung (Melbourne Fringe,  2016), Alexithymia (Poppyseed  Festival,  2017) and Helping Hands. I've seen them all.

Their work is about the experience of living in a neurodiverse world, our world. They share experiences but are not educational pieces about being neurodivergent. Decribing their technique as Spectrum Theatre, they create theatre in ways that put the experience of austism first – in their development and rehearsal processes, on the stage and in the theatre or however else you can or want to see the work.

Watch it because it may open up new ways of seeing and including your audiences and creatives, or for no other reason than it's good theatre and didn't have the opportunity for a long run.

Here's the program.

Here's a preview.


18 December 2018

What Melbourne Loved in 2018, part 7

Today, we celebrate more indie shows.

Penelope Bartlau
Artistic Director, Barking Spider Visual Theatre
Creative Projects Director, Women's Circus


Penelope Bartlau. Nicked from FB, possibly taken by Jason Lehane.

Favourite moments in 2018
1. MUST's End Transmission: the most insane, intricate set I have ever experienced (go Jason Lehane!) – a spaceship with crystals growing and secret doors and hidden rooms

2. Women's Circus 2018 Cabaret PLACE  because I laughed so hard, gasped and cried.

3. Daniel Lammin's Sneakyville, at fortyfivedownstairs, for what was not revealed and for fabulous, unexpected directorial choices.

4. In a Heartbeat at La Mama, just before Fringe, because audiences had the best time.

Looking forward to in 2019
More unexpected work in weird-arse places.

SM: Goodness, I adored In a Heartbeart. I really did have the best time.

Fleur Kilpatrick
Playwright, director, enthuser 

Fleur Kilpatick and the company of "Terrestrial", State Theatre Company SA
Photo by Kate Pardy

Favourite moments in 2018
It was in The Bachelor Season 17, Episode 5. It was a very quiet moment. The Bachelor had just approached one of the contestants and had 'can I steal you for a second'ed her. They left the stage. In an episode of The Bachelor, the camera would have followed them but, in that theatre, we did not. They were gone and we were left to stare at the other contestants. The ones who weren't picked. And they sat. In silence. One ate a chip. That crunch of the chip on that silent stage, these candidates at love held in stasis: that was my favourite moment.

Looking forward to in 2019
I'm very excited about the programming from Theatre Works, Darebin and, up in the south-east, MLIVE. But, most importantly, I am looking forward to us as a community confronting some demons in 2019 and, hopefully, making our workplaces safer, more respectful and more generous as a result. I'm really hopeful that 2019 will be the year we do away with the idea that there are different sets of rules for creative work places: everyone has the right to feel safe and respected at work. Bring it on.

SM: It's a bit meta, but I love that Fleur's new work Whale has already been mentioned a lot as something people are looking forward to in 2019.

Tim Byrne
Theatre critic, Performing Arts Editor – Time Out Melbourne

Tim Byrne. Photo by Sophie Reid

Favourite moments in 2018
I can pinpoint the precise moment this year because I had a jolting physical reaction to it, as involuntary as it was thrilling. At one point in Stephanie Lake's Colossus the cast of dancers rushed screaming at the audience and the kinetic energy, that sense of the potential and the danger of the human body en masse, felt like a shock of electricity through my own body. It was a terrifying moment, political and primordial at once, and one I'm unlikely to forget.

Looking forward to in 2019
Given that, I can't wait for Stephanie's follow-up work at Malthouse for Dance Massive, Skeleton Tree. It is about grief and the ritual of grieving, and should prove a highlight of the dance calendar. I was very pleased to see Stephen Nicolazzo tackle and triumph with Tennessee Williams's Suddenly Last Summer this year; I'm hoping to see him turn to Joe Orton next, maybe with (hint, hint) Loot or Entertaining Mr Sloane. They'd make a good match, that pair.

SM: I still read Tim's reviews, especially if I totally disagree – oh, I do – or if it's a show I didn't see. I also love that he notices if I'm not around.

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.

28 November 2018

What Melbourne Loved in 2018, part 1

This is my favourite end-of-year tradition. Melbourne's theatre community talks about what they  loved this year. We hear from critics, directors, actors, writers, designers and people who simply see a LOT of theatre.

This series reminds us how much reviews and criticism are just small part of the reaction to a show. Shows that didn't get great reviews are still loved and shows that got piles of those darn stars can be forgotten.  It also reminds us – yes publicists, I'm talking to you – that discussion and writing continue long after a season finishes.

We start with two SM regulars and a first timer.

I was going to wait until 1 December but Stephen talks so wonderfully about The Director, which is still on this week. I also adored this show.

Everyone is welcome to contribute. Your memories and moments don't have to have been something you saw on a stage, and sometimes one sentence is all you need.

Here's the Google form to write your contribution.

Stephen Nicolazzo
Director
Little Ones Theatre

Steven Nicolazzo

Favourite moments in 2018

My favourite moment in Melbourne theatre happened just last night (now last week) at Lara Thoms's The Director (Arts House). This work was a deftly handled and emotionally liberating exploration of the ritual of death and inescapable grief. It was told with such openness that catharsis seemed to take place not just for the audience but for the performers as well. It was like a strange and intimate conjuring of grief and joy that no one saw coming. Experiencing a work that made notions of your own mortality both humorous and heart-breaking in a room full of your peers and strangers, unexpectedly struck a chord so deep within me I didn't think I could access such emotion. It was an astonishing thing. I am so pleased to have experienced The Director and grateful to the artists who created it. Its performance that while serious in some of its content, still had the smarts to laugh at it self and the thing some of us (including me) fear the most. I just found it so refreshing and absorbing as a result.

The other brilliant moment of 2018 was Joel Bray’s work Dharawungara as part of Chunky Move's Next Move 11. It was spectacular: a stunning, clever and moving rite of passage mixing story telling, dance and visual theatre. Designed by the glorious Kate Davis (of The Rabble) and with live score by Naretha Williams, this piece was a special one. New form, humour, and queer aesthetics all rolled into one piece. It was a divine and holy experience.

I also truly admired and love love love LOVED everything about Going Down by Michelle Lee (especially Catherine Davies's performance and the entire ensemble. It was just the funniest, brightest, smartest piece of theatre of the year!).

Other truly brilliant, touching and inspiring works were: Moral Panic (Rachel Perks and Bridget Balodis), Lone (The Rabble), Prehistoric (Elbow Room) and Samara Herch and Chambermade Opera's Dybbuks.

Looking forward to in 2019
I am looking forward to Dance Massive the most. I always find this festival so friggen inspiring. I'm also excited to see whatever is happening at Darebin Arts and Jennifer Vuletic's performance in Arbus and West at MTC. Golden Shield looks really interesting too!

SM: I first saw a Little Ones Theatre show in 2009. If I can, I'll keep seeing every show Stephen creates with his company, even if I don't gush every time. Stephen's had an up and down year with the critics. My favourite of his works this year was Suddenly Last Summer at Red Stitch, which I saw it on the last weekend. He queered a queer text; it was glorious. And great news that his Merciless Gods gets a return season at Arts Centre Melbourne in 2019.

Keith Gow
Playwright and critic
           
Keith Gow. Selfie

Favourite moments in 2018
Before I talk about what happened on stage, let me first give a shout out to Witness Performance – a new outlet for discussing theatre in Melbourne (and to a lesser extent, Australia), both critically and historically. Witness has brought Alison Croggon back to regularly writing about theatre and also given a platform to First Nation’s critic Clarissa Lee, as well as welcoming other new critics from diverse backgrounds throughout the year. As other avenues for critical writing shrink, Witness is putting out long form, thoughtful critical reactions to theatre that is vital for robust discussion, as well as being a strong historical record. Admittedly, I am slightly biased, having written for Witness a few times this year, as well as having Rob Reid review my Fringe show there.

On stage, I will have seen over 100 shows by the time this year is finished. I saw amazing work all over Melbourne this year. From Hir at Red Stitch to Abigail’s Party at MTC to Blackie Blackie Brown at Malthouse to Prize Fighter at Northcote Town Hall to Songs for a Weary Throat at Arts Centre Melbourne to The Mission at Arts House to Sleepover Gurlz in a bedroom in Fitzroy to Sneakyville at 45 Downstairs to The Nightingale and the Rose at Theatre Works.

Perhaps the absolute highlight of the year was Angus Cerini’s The Bleeding Tree. After two sell-out seasons in Sydney (at Griffin and STC), I’m so grateful that Arts Centre Melbourne programmed this show. It's a stunning work about family violence and its aftermath. Exquisite writing, extraordinary performances. Bracing, upsetting and poetic.

And to bring things full circle, one of the great things Witness has been doing this year is hosting Live Nights after certain shows for audience members to discuss what they have seen. The Bleeding Tree was one of their Live Night events. As a critic, sometimes I need to sit with a show for a while to know what to say. I’m so glad to have had an outlet to discuss this show right after I saw it, because it was so good and we all had so much to discuss. I think I loved the show more after the discussion, even though there were definitely elements that needed examination – and hearing other people’s points of view had me considering things I hadn’t thought about. Great show, great post-show discussion.

Looking forward to in 2019
I’m looking forward to what Bryce Ives does at Theatre Works. I’m looking forward to hearing more about La Mama rising from the ashes of its devastating fire this year. I’m excited for lots of things the Malthouse are doing like Wake in Fright and Solaris and Australian Realness. And I’m glad Little Ones’s Merciless Gods is returning  at Arts Centre Melbourne.

SM: I always like Keith's reviews and have loved reading his writing for Witness this year. He brings a playwright's perspective to his criticism and isn't afraid to let his writing be a work of art in itself.

Andrea McCannon
Actor

Andrea McCannon. Photo by Alex Vaughan

Favourite moments in 2018
I think my favourite show has been The Bachelor S17 E5, presented by La Mama at the Brunswick Mechanics Insitute. It was a hilarious and unexpectedly moving verbatim rendition of an episode of the USA version of the reality TV show The Bachelor with a really interesting cast. It took something of no substance and made it say so much. My favourite moment was when the ditched drag queen de-frocked and unpacked their suitcase full of rose petals. It was beautiful and heartbreaking. I loved it.

I also want to say that the resilience of the La Mama team and the strength of their community has been totally inspiring this year.

Looking forward to in 2019
Lightning Jar Theatre are mounting Mr Burns: A Post Electric Play at 45 Downstairs in February and I’m so excited for this production. Their previous two shows, Stupid Fucking Bird and Venus in Furs, were brilliantly performed and they’ve assembled a wonderful cast for this show. It’s such a fantastic script – funny and affecting and so bloody clever. I can’t wait to see what they do with it.

SM: I've seen Andrea in more shows than I've written about seeing her in. This year, I saw her in the last performance of Just A Boy Standing in Front of a Girl by 15 Minutes from Anywhere (another one of my favourite indie companies). Hopefully this is a show that will also get a return season, with the same cast.

2017

2016

2014
2013
2012

06 September 2018

Review: In a Heartbeat

In a Heartbeat
Barking Spider Visual Theatre and La Mama
originally commissioned by Monash Centre for Theatre and Performance
5 September
La Mama Courthouse
to 9 September
lamama.com.au

In a Heartbeat. Barking Spider

Barking Spider Visual Theatre make theatre experiences from memories and stories, and it's impossible to leave a show without finding forgotten memories of your own.

They start with collected personal stories. For In a Heartbeat, the stories were from people living in the dementia unit of a residential aged care facility. Their stories about love and relationships were collected by students from the Monash Centre for Theatre and Performance, who originally developed the piece at university and performed it for the residents of the facility.

Some of the storytellers found the stories familiar, but didn't remember telling them. One story teller was 104-years-old and died before the first performance; his words are some of the last spoken in the show.

It was such a heart-overflowing delight that it had to be seen again.

Knocking on the wooden door at the La Mama Courthouse, you're met by young performers in a 1950's memory of pastels, floral and pearls. Taking us to tables set for tea with bright table cloths and warm tea pots, each host tells stories. It's like a chamber orchestra of voices as each tell the same verbatim stories to each table – which are being played to them through earpieces and are recordings of the original storytellers.

In a Heartbeat is memories of tea cups and homemade biscuits, of silver tea spoons and glass sugar bowls, of gingham and crochet, of being young and being loved, of being old and being loved, of dancing, and of being a particle of love in space.

Now, I wonder if I have the ingredients in my kitchen to make my grandmother's rockcakes.