tag:theconversation.com,2011:/au/topics/australian-theatre-11752/articlesAustralian Theatre – The Conversation2024-03-14T23:25:51Ztag:theconversation.com,2011:article/2230052024-03-14T23:25:51Z2024-03-14T23:25:51ZLove, loss and tears – but also laughter: Belvoir’s compelling and skilful staging of Holding the Man<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/582076/original/file-20240314-22-9tv5zm.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=0%2C7%2C1281%2C1908&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Brett Boardman/Belvoir</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Walking through Chippendale on my way to Sydney’s Belvoir Street Theatre, where this production of Holding the Man is playing, I pass by the York Theatre. This was the theatre where, in 1985, Timothy Conigrave, author of the original memoir upon which the play is based, was rehearsing a touring show of Neil Simon’s Brighton Beach Memoirs. He had to excuse himself from one rehearsal for an appointment where he learned his HIV-positive diagnosis. </p>
<p>Then, walking up the hill to Surry Hills, I get to the Belvoir Street Theatre itself. Five years after that initial diagnosis, Conigrave’s play, Thieving Boy, was getting its first rehearsed reading at the Belvoir. He wasn’t able to attend because he’d been kept in hospital with <em>Pneumocystis</em> pneumonia, <a href="https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC2907978/">PCP</a>, an AIDS-defining illness.</p>
<p>To watch this revival of Tommy Murphy’s beautifully crafted adaptation of Conigrave’s memoir at the Belvoir is to inhabit spaces that are filled with the book’s memories. </p>
<p>One of the things that memoir can do is to hold a space open for memories to live on in the world, personal memories that would otherwise be lost. Conigrave’s 1995 book, Holding the Man, is a rare gift, perfectly capturing what it was like to grow up gay in the decades just before the arrival of HIV. </p>
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Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/holding-the-man-and-bringing-hiv-aids-in-australia-to-a-mainstream-audience-43250">Holding the Man, and bringing HIV/AIDS in Australia to a mainstream audience</a>
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<h2>Noticing the small things</h2>
<p>At the book’s heart is a joyous love story between Tim and his high school sweetheart, John Caleo. There is, of course, the overarching trajectory of John’s death and the impact of HIV on their friends and families. But the book works its remarkable magic on a reader by disarming you with the tiny details of somebody’s life.</p>
<p>It is the small things that are often the most affecting in Conigrave’s writing: what people were wearing, what they were listening to, how they looked in certain turns of the light, the awkwardness and fun of sex, what made them smile or laugh.</p>
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<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/582077/original/file-20240314-30-o1sneg.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Actors on stage" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/582077/original/file-20240314-30-o1sneg.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/582077/original/file-20240314-30-o1sneg.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/582077/original/file-20240314-30-o1sneg.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/582077/original/file-20240314-30-o1sneg.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/582077/original/file-20240314-30-o1sneg.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/582077/original/file-20240314-30-o1sneg.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/582077/original/file-20240314-30-o1sneg.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
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<span class="caption">Tom Conroy is superb in the central role.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Brett Boardman/Belvoir</span></span>
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<p>Eamon Flack’s production captures well – and with a lovely, light touch – this sense of fleeting memories that are, nevertheless, still available to us. Tom Conroy is superb in the central role. He takes us from nine-year-old Tim to grieving lover with all of the empathy and playfulness that the part requires. Neither Conigrave’s book nor Murphy’s script shy away from Tim’s flaws; he is, at times, petulant and selfish, but always charming, recognisable and human. </p>
<p>Conroy is joined by a wonderful cast: Danny Ball as John, his lover, but also an ensemble of four performers (Russell Dykstra, Rebecca Massey, Guy Simon and Shannen Alyce Quan) who cycle through all the other people in Tim’s life. They are all great, but special mentions for Massey who wears more wigs than Cher and revels in every part. Guy Simon’s two appearances as a schoolfriend’s mum are also an absolute joy.</p>
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<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/582078/original/file-20240314-20-vsrtmi.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="The cast dance on a pink stage." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/582078/original/file-20240314-20-vsrtmi.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/582078/original/file-20240314-20-vsrtmi.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/582078/original/file-20240314-20-vsrtmi.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/582078/original/file-20240314-20-vsrtmi.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/582078/original/file-20240314-20-vsrtmi.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/582078/original/file-20240314-20-vsrtmi.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/582078/original/file-20240314-20-vsrtmi.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
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<span class="caption">Eamon Flack’s production balances tears and laughter.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Brett Boardman/Belvoir</span></span>
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<p>The wit, charm and love of the opening act (schoolboy crushes, dancing, music and a lot of laughter) are balanced well with the pathos of the second half (the endurance of love, loss and tears, but also more laughter). Flack’s direction knits together the constant shifts in focus – an essential part of memoir and of memory plays – with an ease that only seems effortless; this is a compelling and skilful use of stage and script.</p>
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<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/class-queerness-and-illness-in-the-post-crisis-era-rewriting-the-narrative-of-hiv-176466">Class, queerness and illness in the ‘post-crisis’ era: rewriting the narrative of HIV</a>
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<h2>A timely reminder</h2>
<p>This is also a production that knows it is addressing an audience in 2024, not in 1995, when Conigrave’s book was first published, nor in 2006 when Murphy’s adaptation was first staged. We’ve lived through a lot since, not only the bruising marriage equality vote in Australia, but also a global sense that the lives of queer people might be newly under threat. </p>
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<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/582075/original/file-20240314-22-ffziqi.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=1%2C0%2C1275%2C1913&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Two men kiss" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/582075/original/file-20240314-22-ffziqi.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=1%2C0%2C1275%2C1913&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/582075/original/file-20240314-22-ffziqi.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=899&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/582075/original/file-20240314-22-ffziqi.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=899&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/582075/original/file-20240314-22-ffziqi.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=899&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/582075/original/file-20240314-22-ffziqi.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1130&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/582075/original/file-20240314-22-ffziqi.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1130&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/582075/original/file-20240314-22-ffziqi.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1130&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
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<span class="caption">This production captures the sense of fleeting memories.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Brett Boardman/Belvoir</span></span>
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<p>The lives and loves of gay men, our friends and families, are unavoidably threaded through (pulled apart and drawn together) by what happened in the 1980s and 1990s. This production is an important and timely reminder of what was lost, what was gained, and of the precious memories that we need to keep alive.</p>
<p>On the day of the opening night, the NSW parliament was hearing the first reading of a bill that would <a href="https://www.abc.net.au/news/2024-03-13/gay-conversion-therapy-nsw-parliament-explainer/103580746">outlaw gay conversion practices</a>, the victims of which testify to its corrosive and violent impact on their lives. </p>
<p>Here’s hoping the ban on such practices is one more step in restoring joy to the lives of queer kids in our city and state. </p>
<p><em>Holding the Man is at Belvoir, Sydney, until April 14.</em> </p>
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Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/treatments-as-torture-gay-conversion-therapys-deep-roots-in-australia-95588">'Treatments' as torture: gay conversion therapy's deep roots in Australia</a>
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<img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/223005/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Huw Griffiths does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>Eamon Flack’s production captures well – and with a lovely, light touch – the sense of fleeting memories that are, nevertheless, still available to us.Huw Griffiths, Associate Professor of English Literature, University of SydneyLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/2253402024-03-12T03:35:39Z2024-03-12T03:35:39ZRespect and disrespect clash throughout 37 – a brilliant new play exploring Australian Rules Football<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/581116/original/file-20240311-26-y65idw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=4%2C9%2C1592%2C1053&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Pia Johnson/MTC</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Guernsey number 37 belonged to Aboriginal star football player Adam Goodes when he played for Sydney Swans. Goodes was loved by the AFL and spectators, admired for his skill and leadership for most of his outstanding career. Goodes loved his job and he was a role model for younger generations. </p>
<p>But something went wrong.</p>
<p>It was May 2013, the “Indigenous Round”. Goodes’ team was playing against Collingwood. A 13-year-old Collingwood fan <a href="https://www.theage.com.au/sport/afl/goodes-gutted-after-racial-slur-20130525-2k7gj.html">yelled at Goodes</a> and called him “an ape”. </p>
<p>Overhearing this, Goodes asked security to have the girl removed from the stadium. There were supporters of Goodes and supporters of the girl. The media focus was intense. </p>
<p>In 2014, Goodes was <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/world/2014/jan/25/adam-goodes-wins-australian-year">awarded Australian of the Year</a>. This fitted the climate: get things back on track; do something positive. </p>
<p>In 2015, after kicking a goal, Goodes <a href="https://www.abc.net.au/news/2015-07-30/bradley-goodes-war-dance-reveals-our-moral-confusion/6657960">celebrated with a cultural dance</a> in front of Collingwood fans. The dance ended when Goodes threw an imaginary spear. Performed by Aboriginal men across Australia, the “spear dance” symbolises when men are facing other men from a different clan/tribe for war – like teams facing each other before the siren. </p>
<p>The dance was mistaken to represent something else by AFL spectators across Australia: a war dance and spearing all white people. </p>
<p>From then, Goodes <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/sport/blog/2015/jul/29/afl-great-adam-goodes-is-being-booed-across-australia-how-did-it-come-to-this">was booed</a> across Australia whenever he played. The intensity of the media and the debates raging made him hate being on the football field. </p>
<p>After 18 years of playing elite football – 372 games, 464 goals, two Brownlow Medals, two premierships – Goodes <a href="https://www.buzzfeed.com/allanclarke/adam-goodes-breaks-his-silence">left the game in silence</a>.</p>
<p>Today Goodes is a mentor and a cultural warrior outside the game. He has established a foundation to support youth with their identity and culture while at school and university. </p>
<p>The incidents are referenced in the play 37, from playwright Nathan Maynard. We watch a local football team gathered around a television to watch the game that ended it all for Goodes.</p>
<p>The best player of the team, Jayma (Ngali Shaw), is Aboriginal, and arrives to watch the game proudly wearing the Swans Indigenous Round guernsey with 37 on the back. Jayma is confronted by negative comments made about Goodes. </p>
<p>Then they watch Goodes celebrate with the spear dance. </p>
<p>The banter is no longer funny and the tension and disregard to the Aboriginal player honouring his idol is an insult to the team. </p>
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<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/the-afl-sells-an-inclusive-image-of-itself-but-when-it-comes-to-race-and-gender-it-still-has-a-way-to-go-124351">The AFL sells an inclusive image of itself. But when it comes to race and gender, it still has a way to go</a>
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<h2>Pushed to the edge</h2>
<p>Australia loves sport – even more so with a good drama. 37 has it all and more: history, gems of insight into black and white aspirations, cultural dance, swearing, sporty actors, young and old men in their element as they bond to play football with hopes of winning a premiership. </p>
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<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/581117/original/file-20240311-24-u1thdd.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Men sit on benches." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/581117/original/file-20240311-24-u1thdd.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/581117/original/file-20240311-24-u1thdd.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/581117/original/file-20240311-24-u1thdd.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/581117/original/file-20240311-24-u1thdd.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/581117/original/file-20240311-24-u1thdd.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/581117/original/file-20240311-24-u1thdd.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/581117/original/file-20240311-24-u1thdd.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
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<span class="caption">37 is set in the locker room of a local football club.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Pia Johnson/MTC</span></span>
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<p>Directed by Isaac Drandic, 37 opens with Jayma showing us the <a href="https://aiatsis.gov.au/blog/afls-aboriginal-origins">Marngrook</a>, the Gunditjmara/Aboriginal word for a team game kicking and marking a possum-skin ball. The game would go on for days. Jayma and Sonny (Tibian Wyles) identify as “Marngrook cousins”; a minority in a majority non-Aboriginal team.</p>
<p>Like Goodes, the team starts out great: they bond and have a great time. As the play progresses, Aboriginal and white relations change and mateship is put to the test. </p>
<p>The team dream about winning the premiership, and we watch them in the locker room where the players change pre- and post-game. There are hopes and aspirations for every team member, but the Aboriginal players carry burdens the other team members do not. </p>
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<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/581118/original/file-20240311-18-vh3bcl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Ngali Shaw and Tibian Wyles sit on the edge of the stage." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/581118/original/file-20240311-18-vh3bcl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/581118/original/file-20240311-18-vh3bcl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/581118/original/file-20240311-18-vh3bcl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/581118/original/file-20240311-18-vh3bcl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/581118/original/file-20240311-18-vh3bcl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/581118/original/file-20240311-18-vh3bcl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/581118/original/file-20240311-18-vh3bcl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
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<span class="caption">The Aboriginal players carry burdens the other team members do not.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Pia Johnson/MTC</span></span>
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<p>Jayma’s father has a history with the football club - he was a star player in the team – but didn’t show up for the final game – costing the club a premiership. There are other stories of parents and their behaviour. The team learns of the contract the Aboriginal players signed to be paid for playing; Sonny explains the contract is helping his family to pay rent, buy food and items for the kids.</p>
<p>The highs and lows of 37 are centred around winning the premiership. As the season progresses they are winning, but the mateship becomes less friendly. What starts as happy banter changes. The jokes take on a sinister tone. How long will these team mates tolerate such personal comments? Even the coach, “The General” (Syd Brisbane), gets pushed to the edge when his wife is targeted. </p>
<p>When the siren sounds, aggression on the footy fields subsides – but for the Aboriginal players, the confusion and disappointment lingers. </p>
<h2>Levelling the playing field</h2>
<p>Maynard tackles difficult topics, using his talent to poke and prod the audience to witness the uncomfortable perspectives around the Goodes incident, raising ideas about family, success and trauma. </p>
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<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/581119/original/file-20240311-22-y65idw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="The coach yells at the team." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/581119/original/file-20240311-22-y65idw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/581119/original/file-20240311-22-y65idw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/581119/original/file-20240311-22-y65idw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/581119/original/file-20240311-22-y65idw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/581119/original/file-20240311-22-y65idw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/581119/original/file-20240311-22-y65idw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/581119/original/file-20240311-22-y65idw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
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<span class="caption">Maynard tackles difficult topics, using his talent to poke and prod the audience.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Pia Johnson/MTC</span></span>
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<p>It is a wonderfully athletic cast – a spectacular fast warm-up shows the cast’s sporting skills, and Drandic carefully plays with tension. We observe how Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal team mates try to support each other against other team members’ comments that leave us stunned – but then another comment is made and we’re even more stunned.</p>
<p>But some things said can not be diffused, not even by the cultural awareness program a team member was ordered to attend.</p>
<p>Among the racial backlash, and in a tribute to Goodes, the Marngrook Cousins perform a mesmerising spear dance to illustrate their pride and strength. </p>
<p>Respect and disrespect clash throughout the play leaving us guessing and bracing ourselves – even, perhaps, embarrassed. I walked away from the show in awe of Maynard’s ability to apply history to the stage. I hope audiences can keep learning about Goodes, and continue levelling the playing field against racism in sport. </p>
<p><em>37 is at the Melbourne Theatre Company until April 5.</em></p>
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<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/the-long-and-complicated-history-of-aboriginal-involvement-in-football-117669">The long and complicated history of Aboriginal involvement in football</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
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<img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/225340/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Julie Andrews is a member of the Rumbalara Aboriginal Football and Netball Association. </span></em></p>Playwright Nathan Maynard uses the story of Adam Goodes to explore race in a local footy club.Julie Andrews, Professor and Academic Director (Indigenous Research), La Trobe UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/2221532024-02-28T02:17:05Z2024-02-28T02:17:05ZThe Lewis Trilogy is ultimately about a love for theatre: the sharing of stories in a strange little room<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/578439/original/file-20240227-25-7es5wb.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=0%2C5%2C1917%2C1273&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Brett Boardman/Griffin Theatre Company</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Over five engaging and enjoyable hours, the Lewis Trilogy, three works by Lewis Nowra, works insistently to convince its audience it is about love. Love that overcomes, that transcends, that is everything. And there certainly is a lot of love in the room.</p>
<p>Love for outsiders: battered and ruined families scraping sullen lives in the post-war badlands of a northern Melbourne housing commission estate; the dislocated, disjointed patients of a psychiatric institution muddling their way through rehearsals for Mozart’s <em>Cosi fan tutti</em>; flotsam and jetsam misfits carving out a place to belong in the front bar of a harbourside hotel. </p>
<p>Love for theatre: the sharing of stories in a strange little room, an irregular rhomboid set between the steep rakes of benched seating: 120 souls packed in tight, thankful for the companionship (and air conditioning), celebrating the work.</p>
<p>The love of a playwright for his characters. And the love of a man for a woman. Or for many women: “I was”, the narrator reflects at one point, “between divorces”. </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/a-theatre-production-in-the-pool-this-new-play-in-perth-leaves-the-audience-buoyed-220665">A theatre production ... in the pool? This new play in Perth leaves the audience buoyed</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
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<h2>A dream to do something</h2>
<p>Louis Nowra is one of the most significant Australian playwrights of the past 40 years. His work stretches form and convention beyond realism towards a heightened theatrical lyricism, never losing sight of the textures and cadences of the world. </p>
<p>Under the direction of Declan Greene, each play in the trilogy has been trimmed to around 90 minutes. Summer of the Aliens (1992) is first: a coming-of-age drama, a guileless <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Roman_%C3%A0_clef"><em>theatre à clef</em></a> narrated by William Zappa’s warmly-rendered old Lewis, unfolding on the appropriately arid, unadorned boards of the stage, over which looms a flickering cinema hoarding touting a Cold War sci-fi alien invasion film. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/578440/original/file-20240227-30-cd8v53.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Production image, a young couple sit on stage." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/578440/original/file-20240227-30-cd8v53.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/578440/original/file-20240227-30-cd8v53.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=899&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/578440/original/file-20240227-30-cd8v53.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=899&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/578440/original/file-20240227-30-cd8v53.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=899&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/578440/original/file-20240227-30-cd8v53.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1130&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/578440/original/file-20240227-30-cd8v53.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1130&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/578440/original/file-20240227-30-cd8v53.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1130&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Lewis and Dulcie dream of something more: to sprout angel wings, to be kidnapped by aliens, to get away.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Brett Boardman/Griffin Theatre Company</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The action centres on the friendship of the young Lewis (Philip Lynch) with the precociously worldly — and, as we discover, sexually-abused – Dulcie (Masego Pitso), starting with play wrestling and culminating in a booze-fuelled break-in at the local RSL club. Both dream of something more: to sprout angel wings, to be kidnapped by aliens, to get away. </p>
<p>To do something, to be somewhere other than there.</p>
<p>The second play, Cosi (1992), is the most conventionally accomplished of the three. Young Lewis is now an arts graduate and sometime political activist, taking on his first job: directing an opera in an asylum. </p>
<p>Nowra’s writing here is at its most assured. Even in the relatively shortened form, the dramaturgy is assured, the dramatic arc solid. The chaotic menagerie of recovering junkies, pyromaniacs, narcissists and all but catatonics resolves into a sublime, show-stopping set-piece performance of operatic highlights. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/578441/original/file-20240227-27-7es5wb.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="The cast dressed for Cosi fan tutti take a bow." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/578441/original/file-20240227-27-7es5wb.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/578441/original/file-20240227-27-7es5wb.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/578441/original/file-20240227-27-7es5wb.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/578441/original/file-20240227-27-7es5wb.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/578441/original/file-20240227-27-7es5wb.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/578441/original/file-20240227-27-7es5wb.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/578441/original/file-20240227-27-7es5wb.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Cosi is Nowra’s writing at its most assured.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Brett Boardman/Griffin Theatre Company</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Finally, the most explicitly reflexive and formally adventurous of the plays, 2017’s This Much is True. </p>
<p>A more-than-affectionate love letter, a late-in-life coming of age story, as the old Lewis (Zappa again) finds his people: a picaresque assemblage of character sketches (the pub itself one of them) and story shards woven into a narrative of loss, yearning, betrayal and redemption. </p>
<p>Old Lewis, now a full-blown character in the world he narrates, explains: when people know that you are a writer, they bring their stories to you. It’s almost an apology for the frenetic, episodic magic realism that has unfolded. This perhaps unreliable narrator assures us, though, that the stories were the ones he had heard about and experienced: </p>
<blockquote>
<p>Some of you may think they’re exaggerated, but we locals think otherwise.</p>
</blockquote>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/578444/original/file-20240227-16-qnlv7d.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A older man stands on stage." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/578444/original/file-20240227-16-qnlv7d.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/578444/original/file-20240227-16-qnlv7d.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/578444/original/file-20240227-16-qnlv7d.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/578444/original/file-20240227-16-qnlv7d.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/578444/original/file-20240227-16-qnlv7d.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/578444/original/file-20240227-16-qnlv7d.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/578444/original/file-20240227-16-qnlv7d.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">This Much is True is a late-in-life coming of age story.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Brett Boardman/Griffin Theatre Company</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>A span of life</h2>
<p>As relentless as the insistence on love is the insistence of time. The five hours are bracketed by repeated tones, a metabolic rhythm as implacable as a metronome, the tympanic beating of an angiogram. A coiling: love and time; time and love. Themes of death, loss and regret press and surge, pushing back, hard, against the simplicity of the promise of love.</p>
<p>The plays chart a span of life; spending a day in the theatre with the plays redoubles the palpability of time itself. We – the audience – dwell in the power of theatre to immerse us in place and time. Between plays we sit on the kerb outside, have a coffee at a local café, a bowl of pasta or salad, return and smile at our fellow audience members. We move around the theatre, choosing different seats for each play.</p>
<p>We follow the actors as they move through different roles, catching echoes and tensions across the casting: Paul Capsis tears it up as a series of wild-eyed clowns; Thomas Campbell finds pathos and subtle variations through a motley collection of blokes (and others). </p>
<p>Ursula Yovich is utterly compelling, first as young Lewis’ grandmother, then as an adoring psychiatric patient, and finally as a standover man. Her presence on stage gently but unmistakably alerts us to the absence of First Nations people in a play cycle so concerned with place, community and belonging. </p>
<p>Lynch is extraordinary as the young Lewis in the first two plays: a glorious portrait of a young man finding his feet.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/578447/original/file-20240227-22-ctolqt.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Production image: the actor on a ladder." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/578447/original/file-20240227-22-ctolqt.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/578447/original/file-20240227-22-ctolqt.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=899&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/578447/original/file-20240227-22-ctolqt.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=899&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/578447/original/file-20240227-22-ctolqt.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=899&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/578447/original/file-20240227-22-ctolqt.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1130&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/578447/original/file-20240227-22-ctolqt.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1130&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/578447/original/file-20240227-22-ctolqt.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1130&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Pitso has the toughest gig. The burden of Lewis’ yearning, regret, and, yes, love, falls on her characters’ shoulders.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Brett Boardman/Griffin Theatre Company</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Pitso, though, has the toughest gig: first as young Dulcie, then as a recovering junkie, and finally as a philosophy student working as a barmaid in the Rising Sun Hotel. The burden of Lewis’ yearning, regret and, yes, love, falls on these characters’ shoulders. </p>
<p>In a rewriting of the final scene, Nowra has crafted a more emphatic narrative arc, binding the trilogy all the more tightly together: Dulcie, old Lewis explains, was something like the one true love. It was always Dulcie for whom he was looking, who he needed to save. </p>
<p>A neat piece of dramaturgy, but, for me, something of a deflation after an otherwise deeply, resonatingly rich immersion.</p>
<p><em>The Lewis Trilogy is a Griffin Theatre Company until 21 April.</em></p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/a-fool-in-love-is-delightfully-ridiculous-and-sharp-witted-social-satire-at-its-finest-221320">A Fool in Love is delightfully ridiculous and sharp-witted: social satire at its finest</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/222153/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Ian Maxwell does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>Louis Nowra is one of the most significant Australian playwrights of the past 40 years. Griffith Theatre Company is staging a trilogy of his work.Ian Maxwell, Associate Professor in Performance Studies, University of SydneyLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/2206652024-02-13T00:15:02Z2024-02-13T00:15:02ZA theatre production … in the pool? This new play in Perth leaves the audience buoyed<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/574899/original/file-20240212-18-6k7w86.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=13%2C0%2C3004%2C2013&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Daniel J Grant/BSSTC</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>My obsession for public pools began when I was growing up in Perth at the iconic 1960s Beatty Park. Living in Melbourne I swam in the “<a href="https://www.abc.net.au/listen/programs/melbourne-breakfast/fitzroy-pool/11523190">aqua profonda</a>” of the Fitzroy pool, listened to the underwater music (which in the 1980s was novel) at the Prahran pool and lapped at the pool that attracts attention for being named after a drowned prime minister — <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Harold_Holt_Memorial_Swimming_Centre">the Harold Holt</a>. So, I was looking forward to Black Swan State Theatre Company’s new production The Pool, and it doesn’t disappoint.</p>
<p>Playwright Steve Rodgers’ love of swimming is the play’s genesis. A regular lap swimmer, Rodgers was struck by the diversity of people who gathered at pools and started to imagine their stories. What followed were interviews with workers at community pools and in aged care, teenagers, family and friends, and a play that celebrates the pool and its capacity to create community. </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/the-timeless-appeal-of-an-ocean-pool-turns-out-its-a-good-investment-too-127912">The timeless appeal of an ocean pool – turns out it's a good investment, too</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>Watching on from poolside</h2>
<p>Directed by Kate Champion, the production of this play has been cleverly conceived as a site-specific work at the Bold Park Aquatic Centre’s outdoor Olympic pool. Given Perth’s current heatwave, this venue is welcomed. But beyond this, it enables us to experience the pool’s atmosphere – the smell of chlorine, sound of water lapping at the sides – and to be part of the action. </p>
<p>Seated poolside, we observe the goings on in and around the pool just as Rodgers did. But we don’t have to imagine the stories. Equipped with headphones, we eavesdrop on conversations and are privy to the characters’ inner thoughts in carefully woven monologues, as these characters reminisce, reveal long held secrets and whisper their fears.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/574900/original/file-20240212-30-yxtap.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Actors in a pool" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/574900/original/file-20240212-30-yxtap.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/574900/original/file-20240212-30-yxtap.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/574900/original/file-20240212-30-yxtap.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/574900/original/file-20240212-30-yxtap.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/574900/original/file-20240212-30-yxtap.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/574900/original/file-20240212-30-yxtap.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/574900/original/file-20240212-30-yxtap.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Given Perth’s current heatwave, this poolside venue is welcomed.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Daniel J Grant/BSSTC</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The Pool’s characters represent the diversity of people who gather at pools and the myriad of reasons they go. </p>
<p>Loved-up teens Safiyah (Edyll Ismail) and Ananda (Tobias Muhafidin) are escaping the censuring gaze of adults. The over-60s trio of Roy (Geoff Kelso), wife Greta (Polly Low) and her buddy Val (Julia Moody) are healing their ageing bodies and family rifts. </p>
<p>Roy and Greta’s 40-year-old daughter Joni (Emma Jackson) is facing her fears. Quinn (Anna Gray) is looking for recognition. Morgan (Carys Munks) is seeking freedom. </p>
<p>Keeping these regulars afloat are poolside staff Kirk (Joel Jackson) and Sandra (Kylie Bracknell) with their own reasons for being there. The actors, from equally diverse backgrounds and with a range of acting experience, create a convincing ensemble. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/574901/original/file-20240212-17-kdfbw0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Actors on the edge of a pool" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/574901/original/file-20240212-17-kdfbw0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/574901/original/file-20240212-17-kdfbw0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/574901/original/file-20240212-17-kdfbw0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/574901/original/file-20240212-17-kdfbw0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/574901/original/file-20240212-17-kdfbw0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/574901/original/file-20240212-17-kdfbw0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/574901/original/file-20240212-17-kdfbw0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The actors are from diverse backgrounds and with a range of acting experience.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Daniel J Grant/BSSTC</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Passion for the pool</h2>
<p>Conviction and authenticity are at the heart of this production. Rodgers’ passion for water and the pool washes through his play. The dialogue is carefully crafted to sound natural and not overwritten, allowing the audience to piece the stories together as we would in life. It also allows space for Champion’s expert direction. </p>
<p>In the program, Champion writes she has “always been drawn to art that recreates a sense of authenticity”. She has achieved this in The Pool with details that blur the distinction between reality and theatre. </p>
<p>As we are ushered into the space, swimmers are in the pool, prompting somebody near me to speculate on whether they were actors or actual lap swimmers. As a finale, members of the audience can choose to join the cast in an aqua aerobic session. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/574906/original/file-20240212-26-go150s.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A line of swimmers." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/574906/original/file-20240212-26-go150s.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/574906/original/file-20240212-26-go150s.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/574906/original/file-20240212-26-go150s.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/574906/original/file-20240212-26-go150s.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/574906/original/file-20240212-26-go150s.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/574906/original/file-20240212-26-go150s.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/574906/original/file-20240212-26-go150s.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The Pool is greatly enhanced in its subtle shifts away from realism.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Daniel J Grant/BSSTC</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The actors’ movement in and around the pool and their entrances and exits are carefully choreographed not only to retain focus on the main action but to replicate the rhythms and patterns of people at public pools.</p>
<p>The Pool is greatly enhanced in its subtle shifts away from realism. Champion picks up on the aesthetics of the public pool, focusing on the sensuality of its water and beauty of its objects: handrails, ramp, deckchairs and lane ropes. Actors’ interactions with these features have been shaped to highlight the grace in our everyday movements. </p>
<p>Key to this poetic strain is a chorus of swimmers who appear throughout. They are sublime, morphing from being regulars lounging, lapping, diving and performing impressive bommies to performing carefully choreographed water sequences that frame and comment on scenes. </p>
<p>Their inclusion greatly contributes to the poignancy of the play. </p>
<h2>A place of connection</h2>
<p>Crucial to all this is the audio. The use of headphones for the audience creates an intimacy with the characters. Composer and sound designer Tim Collins’ finely nuanced score supports the action without dominating, and without any hitches. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/574902/original/file-20240212-26-3p863l.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="An aqua aerobic session." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/574902/original/file-20240212-26-3p863l.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/574902/original/file-20240212-26-3p863l.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/574902/original/file-20240212-26-3p863l.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/574902/original/file-20240212-26-3p863l.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/574902/original/file-20240212-26-3p863l.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/574902/original/file-20240212-26-3p863l.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/574902/original/file-20240212-26-3p863l.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">As a finale, members of the audience could choose to join in.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Daniel J Grant/BSSTC</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>There are <a href="https://www.royallifesaving.com.au/__data/assets/pdf_file/0004/56605/RLSSA-Social-Impacts-Report-Final-November-2021-Web-and-Print.pdf">more than 2,000</a> swimming pools open to the public in Australia. They have been sites of <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/australia-news/2015/feb/21/freedom-ride-revisiting-the-dip-in-the-pool-that-changed-a-segregated-town">protest and social change</a>. This production shows they are also a space where we can have a laugh, shed our skins and find or lose ourselves – and ultimately find connection with others. </p>
<p>At a time when we sorely need it, The Pool speaks to our humanity. The opening night audience left buoyed. </p>
<p><em>Black Swan State Theatre Company’s The Pool is on until 25 February.</em> </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/take-a-plunge-into-the-memories-of-australias-favourite-swimming-pools-128928">Take a plunge into the memories of Australia's favourite swimming pools</a>
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</em>
</p>
<hr>
<img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/220665/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Helen Trenos does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>In Black Swan State Theatre Company’s new production The Pool, playwright Steve Rodgers’ love of swimming is the play’s genesisHelen Trenos, Lecturer (Theatre & Creative Arts), Curtin UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/2213202024-02-12T02:38:29Z2024-02-12T02:38:29ZA Fool in Love is delightfully ridiculous and sharp-witted: social satire at its finest<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/574799/original/file-20240211-27-xvsffo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=9%2C4%2C3213%2C2152&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Daniel Boud/Sydney Theatre Company</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Van Badham’s A Fool in Love at the Sydney Theatre Company lampoons the modern Sydney vibe: a city obsessed with wealth, status and, of course, love.</p>
<p>Designer Isabel Hudson’s candy-coloured set, lolly-pop-esque orange trees and sherbet-coloured tinsel attire seem to vibrate the essence of the city as we move juggernaut-like towards the festivities of Valentine’s day and Mardi Gras. </p>
<p>Based on <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lope_de_Vega">Lope de Vega</a>’s 17th-century production La Dama Boba, Badham transports us to a camp version of the original nestled in a bourgeois beachside enclave – the embodiment of Sydney’s eastern suburbs. We find ourselves in a world obsessed with private schools, linen attire, and the maintenance (if not stock-piling) of funds.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/shakespeare-and-cervantes-what-similarities-between-the-famous-writers-reveal-about-mysteries-of-authorship-152669">Shakespeare and Cervantes: what similarities between the famous writers reveal about mysteries of authorship</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>What’s love got to do with it?</h2>
<p>Ottavio (Johnny Nasser) is yet another linen-clad specimen, the heir to a once-thriving empire in the automotive parts manufacturing realm, now plummeting into irreparable decline. </p>
<p>To sustain his lavish lifestyle and secure the dwindling family fortune, he faces the daunting task of orchestrating the marriage of his eldest daughter, Phynayah (Contessa Treffone). </p>
<p>To inherit her eccentric uncle’s remarkable fortune – and maintain her family’s coveted social standing – Phynayah must marry before she’s 30. A difficult task in a city like Sydney, where romantics are snuffed out by dating apps and the idea there are always greener pastures one swipe away. </p>
<p>However, such a romantic deal (the promise of wealth and cultural standing), attracts more than one ambitious suitor. Phynayah’s clever and social climbing sister Vanessa (Melissa Kahraman) also “brings the boys to the yard” for herself.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/574803/original/file-20240211-30-vx6pw8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A man in blue pants and a pink jacket" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/574803/original/file-20240211-30-vx6pw8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/574803/original/file-20240211-30-vx6pw8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/574803/original/file-20240211-30-vx6pw8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/574803/original/file-20240211-30-vx6pw8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/574803/original/file-20240211-30-vx6pw8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/574803/original/file-20240211-30-vx6pw8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/574803/original/file-20240211-30-vx6pw8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Ottavio faces the daunting task of orchestrating the marriage of his eldest daughter.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Daniel Boud/Sydney Theatre Company</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The tale of making love to Phynayah is not as straightforward as it seems. Beautiful, and soon to be in possession of great wealth, Phynayah could be perceived as a modern catch: but these days suitors want more. They expect brains as well – not to mention a sizeable Instagram and TikTok account.</p>
<p>Clueless, witless, and perpetually silly, Treffone’s Phynayah embodies immaturity itself, donning a crochet bikini and serving as a living banal joke. The question looms: is any social climber desperate enough to align themselves with a poolside belle whose intellectual prowess is overshadowed by her towel?</p>
<h2>Frothy tales</h2>
<p>In this electric and funny rendition directed by Kenneth Moraleda, Badham invites us to comment on the economics of love. While Jennifer Lopez told us “love don’t cost a thing,” economic data would argue otherwise.</p>
<p>The aspirational suitors, the “new money”, are from Western Sydney and other “undesirable” burbs. In seeking to seduce Phynayah (or Vanessa), they are swallowed in frothy, silly, hapless tales.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/574800/original/file-20240211-16-ygvx8o.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Three men" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/574800/original/file-20240211-16-ygvx8o.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/574800/original/file-20240211-16-ygvx8o.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/574800/original/file-20240211-16-ygvx8o.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/574800/original/file-20240211-16-ygvx8o.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/574800/original/file-20240211-16-ygvx8o.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/574800/original/file-20240211-16-ygvx8o.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/574800/original/file-20240211-16-ygvx8o.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The aspirational suitors are swallowed in frothy, silly, hapless tales.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Daniel Boud/Sydney Theatre Company</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The unholy union of love and the consumer marketplace is not by any means a new one. As Jane Austen told us in Pride and Prejudice, “It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife” – and vice versa. </p>
<p>If we were to extend back historically, this kind of mating based on wealth, social or cultural is old news. Women and men were often traded and dowries were applied. The notion that you can pick your own partner based on love is a uniquely modern one, and it can be unpicked quickly. </p>
<p>Badham is not only inviting us to reflect on the economics of love but also gender and cultural politics. Women’s visual, intellectual and social value is paraded, catwalk style, to please men (suitors, fathers, and onlookers alike). </p>
<p>To use Austen again, Mr Darcy sets the benchmark high when he defines his idea of an accomplished woman: </p>
<blockquote>
<p>A woman must have a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing, all the modern languages, to deserve the word; and besides all this, she must possess a certain something in her air and manner of walking, the tone of her voice, her address and expressions, or the word will be but half deserved.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>This kind of identity management is nothing new and is exacerbated by social media. It is distinctly pervasive for women who are generally represented as having (or being) too little or too much. Too fat or too thin; too clever or too stupid; too free or too restricted. Phynayah and Vanessa embody this tension.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/574802/original/file-20240211-26-lfzqy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Two women on stage, surrounded by pink" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/574802/original/file-20240211-26-lfzqy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/574802/original/file-20240211-26-lfzqy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=899&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/574802/original/file-20240211-26-lfzqy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=899&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/574802/original/file-20240211-26-lfzqy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=899&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/574802/original/file-20240211-26-lfzqy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1130&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/574802/original/file-20240211-26-lfzqy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1130&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/574802/original/file-20240211-26-lfzqy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1130&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Women are perceived as too fat or too thin; too clever or too stupid; too free or too restricted.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Daniel Boud/Sydney Theatre Company</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Alongside this, the discussion on the aspirational suitors and their geographical genesis demonstrates (disturbingly) that the “<a href="https://newsroom.unsw.edu.au/news/social-affairs/imaginary-line-exposing-real-sydney-divide">latte line</a>” (or should I say “linen line?”) dividing Sydney’s western and eastern suburbs is congealing. </p>
<p>A Fool in Love challenges us to consider this widening divide and growing social inequity through the lens of the tomfoolery of love. The haves and have nots of linen wardrobes – and also of privilege.</p>
<p>A Fool in Love is as bold as it is delightfully ridiculous and sharp-witted. Social satire at its finest.</p>
<p><em>A Fool in Love is at the Sydney Theatre Company until 17 March.</em></p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/another-tale-of-two-cities-access-to-jobs-divides-sydney-along-the-latte-line-96907">Another tale of two cities: access to jobs divides Sydney along the 'latte line'</a>
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</p>
<hr>
<img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/221320/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Lisa Portolan does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>Van Badham’s A Fool in Love at the Sydney Theatre Company lampoons the modern Sydney vibe: a city obsessed with wealth, status and, of course, love.Lisa Portolan, PhD student, Institute for Culture and Society, Western Sydney UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/2199652023-12-19T05:33:33Z2023-12-19T05:33:33ZLeah Purcell’s Is That You, Ruthie? is a powerful look at ‘dormitory girls’ separated from Country and family<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/566180/original/file-20231218-23-vsbogh.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=0%2C0%2C3578%2C2398&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Peter Wallis</span></span></figcaption></figure><p><em>This article contains mentions of the Stolen Generations, and policies using outdated and potentially offensive terminology when referring to First Nations people.</em></p>
<hr>
<p>Aunty Ruth Hegarty, or Ruthie, was four-and-a-half years old when she was forcibly removed from her mother, Ruby, under the auspices of Queensland’s Aboriginals Protection Act (1897).</p>
<p>The Act, as it was known, dispossessed thousands of Indigenous Australians of their heartlines and their homes by segregating them to government reserves that have been compared by past residents to <a href="https://openresearch-repository.anu.edu.au/bitstream/1885/46071/31/05chapter4.pdf">concentration camps</a>.</p>
<p>Is That You, Ruthie?, written and directed by Leah Purcell, one of Australia’s most important theatremakers, is an adaptation of <a href="https://www.uqp.com.au/books/is-that-you-ruthie">Aunty Ruth’s memoir</a>. It is a harrowing account of a mother and daughter’s attempt to repair their fractured relationship after being separated from their culture, their Country, and each other.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/indigenous-australia-is-deadly-and-leah-purcell-shows-it-28768">Indigenous Australia is deadly – and Leah Purcell shows it</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>Giving stage to the dormo girls</h2>
<p>Purcell’s bold new play remembers the Stolen Generations of Indigenous women and children who were interned for more than 70 years at Barambah station, later known as <a href="https://www.qld.gov.au/firstnations/cultural-awareness-heritage-arts/community-histories/community-histories-c-d/community-histories-cherbourg">Cherbourg</a>, 250 kilometres northwest of Brisbane. </p>
<p>The story of the self-called dormitory girls, or “dormo girls”, is the story of the irreparable damage caused by the sanctioned removal and control of First Nations families and the dormitory system’s cruel legacy of the separation of children from their mothers.</p>
<p>The play opens in 1930, in the grip of the Great Depression, when a young Ruby (Chenoa Deemal) arrives with her six-month-old daughter Ruthie at the Barambah mission – “just for a little while” – on the advice of the local police sergeant, who is also the ironically titled “Protector of Aboriginals”.</p>
<p>When she is four-and-a-half, Ruthie (Melodie Reynolds-Diarra) is separated from Ruby, and they spend the next 30 years trapped in parallel lives. </p>
<p>Following their separation, mother and daughter are housed in separate dorms. They can see each other, but are forbidden to touch or talk.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/566445/original/file-20231218-29-95okkx.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A woman dressed as a maid, near a white metal bed." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/566445/original/file-20231218-29-95okkx.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/566445/original/file-20231218-29-95okkx.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=393&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/566445/original/file-20231218-29-95okkx.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=393&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/566445/original/file-20231218-29-95okkx.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=393&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/566445/original/file-20231218-29-95okkx.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=494&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/566445/original/file-20231218-29-95okkx.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=494&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/566445/original/file-20231218-29-95okkx.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=494&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Mother and daughter are interned in dormitories on their arrival at Cherbourg.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Photo credit: Peter Wallis</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>In a narrative spiral that moves back and forward in time, the pair oscillate in and out of each other’s lives as their relationship becomes increasingly estranged. </p>
<p>Separately, they are trained and later hired as domestic servants to aid the expanding white settlement.</p>
<p>After years of exploitation as “domestics”, both are denied access to their wages in a form of multi-generational financial abuse that is now recognised as the <a href="https://www.grantthornton.com.au/services/case-study/stolen-wages-class-action/">Stolen Wages</a>.</p>
<p>When mother and daughter finally reunite, they are forced to face the painful realisation that they are strangers. Their relationship, irreversibly severed, is never the same.</p>
<p>In the play’s final scene the actors step forward out of character to remind us this story is not a work of fiction – a necessary and important moment when Australia’s history is still often met with <a href="https://www.researchgate.net/publication/263601584_Engaging_non-indigenous_students_in_indigenous_history_and_un-history_An_approach_for_non-indigenous_teachers_and_a_politics_for_the_twenty-first_century">defensive denial and resistance</a>.</p>
<h2>Two hearts breaking</h2>
<p>Purcell, <a href="https://www.abc.net.au/listen/programs/awaye/is-that-you-ruthie/103087474">a self-described “truth-teller”</a>, has perfected <a href="https://socialalternatives.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/11/PROWSE-ET_AL-SA_41_3.pdf">the art of adaptation</a>. She is perhaps best known for her interpretation of <a href="https://theconversation.com/the-drovers-wife-the-legend-of-molly-johnson-brings-a-black-womans-perspective-to-australian-frontier-films-170782">The Drover’s Wife</a>, which she has adapted three times to the page, stage and screen.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/the-drovers-wife-the-legend-of-molly-johnson-brings-a-black-womans-perspective-to-australian-frontier-films-170782">The Drover’s Wife: the Legend of Molly Johnson brings a Black woman's perspective to Australian frontier films</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>In Ruthie, over the course of 90 minutes, she strips down Hegarty’s memoir to its powerful core: the story of two hearts breaking. But Purcell’s play, like its origin material, is also a story about the enduring and ineffable connections that bond women who share profound trauma and grief.</p>
<p>Building on the tradition of Ningali Lawford-Wolf’s Ningali (1994), Wesley Enoch and Deborah Mailman’s The Seven Stages of Grieving (1996), and Jane Harrison’s Stolen (1998), Purcell interjects genuine moments of humour in a work that highlights the fraught nature of forgiveness and the cultural significance of both resistance and resilience.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/566464/original/file-20231219-27-9sj5gt.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Production image: a woman stands on stage." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/566464/original/file-20231219-27-9sj5gt.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/566464/original/file-20231219-27-9sj5gt.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/566464/original/file-20231219-27-9sj5gt.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/566464/original/file-20231219-27-9sj5gt.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/566464/original/file-20231219-27-9sj5gt.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/566464/original/file-20231219-27-9sj5gt.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/566464/original/file-20231219-27-9sj5gt.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Purcell strips down Hegarty’s memoir to its powerful core.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Photo credit: Peter Wallis</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The work interweaves traditional song and dance in a testament to the courage and resilience of the young girls who lost their mothers and in turn became sisters who, in their own words, simply looked after each other.</p>
<p>As Aunty Ruth reflects in her memoir:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Our lives were governed by the same policies, and what happened to one, happened to all of us. We were treated identically, dressed identically, our hair cut identically. We were dormitory girls.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Purcell and Hegarty share the same creative agenda: both women blend the personal with the political through autobiographical storytelling and the power of witnessing. </p>
<h2>A collaborative creation</h2>
<p>Importantly, in her newest work, Purcell preserves the protocols of Indigenous storytelling by using collaborative theatre to combine oral history with documentary techniques. Aunty Ruth, now 94, collaborated on the script and contributed to the creative process. </p>
<p>The projection of archival material from Aunty Ruth’s government file – visitation requests, travel permits, letters from the Superintendent – bridge the theatrical and historical worlds of the play, and unite the emotion of the dramatic retelling with the authority and authenticity of the archive.</p>
<p>At a post show discussion with Aunty Ruth, Purcell invoked the audience’s obligation to bear witness. “You cannot deny this woman her story,” she said, “because she’s sitting right here.”</p>
<p>In this way, the play’s title, Is That You, Ruthie?, is an important recognition of the past as much as it is a haunting inquisition that demands we listen.</p>
<p><em>Is That You, Ruthie? by Oombarra Productions played at QPAC, Brisbane. Season closed.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/219965/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Kate Cantrell does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>Is That You, Ruthie? is a harrowing account of a mother and daughter’s attempt to repair their fractured relationship.Kate Cantrell, Senior Lecturer — Writing, Editing, Publishing, University of Southern QueenslandLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/2191102023-12-04T03:55:49Z2023-12-04T03:55:49ZAt the End of the Land: an avalanche of images that invites us to sit alone in time and space together<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/563198/original/file-20231204-21-ly2bjt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=13%2C4%2C2978%2C1991&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Aaron Claringbold/PICA</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>At the End of the Land, a world premiere production by Western Australian interdisciplinary theatre makers Too Close to the Sun, is an experiential encounter with the liminal space between life and death and other unknowable things.</p>
<p>Performed, written and co-devised by Talya Rubin with co-devisor and director Nick James, At the End of the Land integrates Rubin’s live, amplified voice, delivered via direct address, with Samuel James’ luscious, seemingly three-dimensional video. </p>
<p>Working in concert with the soundscape (composed by Rachael Dease with sound design by Daniel Herten and Hayley Forward), the performance is a parade of images – aural, live and projected – that hold for a moment to imprint on our retinas, but then are gone as quickly as they appeared. </p>
<p>Rubin’s spoken text, sometimes heightened and poetic, other times direct and specific, has multiple narratives. The most recurring throughline references a story of the deaths of 18 young women in a Victorian-era boarding house. Speaking as one of these vanished women about “the day we all died” and what it’s like to be dead, Rubin guides the audience into this in-between place. There is a slightly disembodied quality to her presence, anchored by the serious sincerity of her deliberate delivery.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/the-hardest-and-most-beautiful-conversation-ive-ever-had-how-end-of-life-storytelling-on-tiktok-helps-us-process-death-206999">'The hardest and most beautiful conversation I've ever had': how end-of-life storytelling on TikTok helps us process death</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>Dreamscapes</h2>
<p>The stage is variously zoned, with miniature rooms and landscapes enlarged via projection that plays with perspective, as the performer manipulates the tiny scenes. </p>
<p>One of the zones features a red velvet armchair, with a small side table and lamp, on a black and white checked floor, reminiscent of Alice in Wonderland. This space places Rubin in her Peter Pan-collared outfit as a sort of Alice in the underworld.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/563201/original/file-20231204-17-nm67f5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A scary red monkey." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/563201/original/file-20231204-17-nm67f5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/563201/original/file-20231204-17-nm67f5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=899&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/563201/original/file-20231204-17-nm67f5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=899&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/563201/original/file-20231204-17-nm67f5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=899&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/563201/original/file-20231204-17-nm67f5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1129&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/563201/original/file-20231204-17-nm67f5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1129&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/563201/original/file-20231204-17-nm67f5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1129&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The Red Monkey is a sort of demonic oracle.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Aaron Claringbold/PICA</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Sometimes accompanied by the recurring figure of the Red Monkey, the narrator’s sidekick who acts as a sort of demonic oracle, the overall effect is of a surreal, painterly dreamscape. </p>
<p>At one point Rubin narrates a verbatim interview with American filmmaker and painter David Lynch talking about his ideas and process, particularly with regards to his first feature Eraserhead. It works to position the performance in the highly visual “<a href="https://www.goodreads.com/en/book/show/620859">dreamlike logic</a>” of a Lynchian landscape.</p>
<h2>Our own memories</h2>
<p>At The End of The Land creates a very specific, sustained introspective mood, twice deliberately broken by Rubin when the house lights are raised and the audience directly engaged. </p>
<p>There is a relief in this direct connection, momentarily unfiltered by technology. Rubin invites us to embrace the living and the dead, to contemplate and embrace the inevitability of our own death and the invisible threads that guide (and sometimes abandon) us all. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/563200/original/file-20231204-22-lmlt5g.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A woman talks into a microphone." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/563200/original/file-20231204-22-lmlt5g.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/563200/original/file-20231204-22-lmlt5g.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=899&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/563200/original/file-20231204-22-lmlt5g.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=899&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/563200/original/file-20231204-22-lmlt5g.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=899&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/563200/original/file-20231204-22-lmlt5g.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1129&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/563200/original/file-20231204-22-lmlt5g.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1129&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/563200/original/file-20231204-22-lmlt5g.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1129&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Rubin becomes an Alice in the underground.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Aaron Claringbold/PICA</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>These moments of suspension create space and self-reflection leaving us alone with our own memories. </p>
<p>Operating in a non-linear surreality, Rubin’s text gives us hooks and signposts, but ultimately the density of images create a sensory overload that washes over you. It works to open the viewer up to the varied associations that accord with their own experience, ensuring At the End of the Land will land differently for each person. </p>
<p>For my companion, the references to the 18 dead women, provoked an association with <a href="https://www.wa.gov.au/organisation/department-of-communities/16-days-wa">16 Days in WA</a>, a family and domestic violence campaign currently running in the state. Amid the myriad associative possibilities, Rubin’s endeavour is personal but also invitational as she finds ways to bring us together.</p>
<p>It is a seamless performance, which is pretty remarkable considering the work is really all seam: an avalanche of images knitted together with visible seams that invite the audience to sit alone in time and space together.</p>
<p><em>At the End of the Land played at PICA, Perth. Season closed.</em></p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/49-women-have-been-killed-in-australia-so-far-in-2023-as-a-result-of-violence-are-we-actually-making-any-progress-217552">49 women have been killed in Australia so far in 2023 as a result of violence. Are we actually making any progress?</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/219110/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Leah Mercer does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>This production by Western Australian interdisciplinary theatre makers Too Close to the Sun is an experiential encounter with the liminal space between life and death.Leah Mercer, Associate Professor of Theatre Arts, Curtin UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/2157992023-11-27T23:34:18Z2023-11-27T23:34:18ZChekhov called The Seagull ‘a comedy’. The Sydney Theatre Company seems to forget it was a tragedy, too<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/561983/original/file-20231127-19-vsue0b.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=0%2C0%2C1917%2C1273&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Prudence Upton/Sydney Theatre Company</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>What is comedy?</p>
<p>This is the question I kept coming back to while watching Andrew Upton’s adaptation of Anton Chekhov’s The Seagull, which opened to warm applause – and a touch of <a href="https://www.smh.com.au/culture/theatre/actors-perplexed-after-sydney-theatre-company-apologises-for-protest-20231127-p5en3a.html">controversy</a> – at the Sydney Theatre Company on Saturday. </p>
<p>Theatre scholar <a href="https://www.cambridge.org/core/books/cambridge-introduction-to-comedy/BF3A25BC83C8F5C067E4849EE33BCFEA">Eric Weitz</a> notes that comedy is a genre “with characteristic features”. </p>
<p>Laughter, humour, distraction. These are some of the terms associated with comedy.</p>
<p>Comedy is also restless. As Weitz acknowledges, comedy “embraces a range of subgenres” and often “cross-pollinates with other genres to form the likes of tragicomedy”.</p>
<p>These cross-pollinations can often confuse. </p>
<p>Consider the very first performance of The Seagull, subtitled “a comedy in four acts”.</p>
<p>The notorious performance at the Alexandrinsky Theatre in Saint Petersburg on October 17 1896 was an unmitigated failure. The audience jeered; the reviews were scathing. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/561985/original/file-20231127-27-lm6ylo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Black and white photograph" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/561985/original/file-20231127-27-lm6ylo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/561985/original/file-20231127-27-lm6ylo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=383&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/561985/original/file-20231127-27-lm6ylo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=383&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/561985/original/file-20231127-27-lm6ylo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=383&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/561985/original/file-20231127-27-lm6ylo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=481&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/561985/original/file-20231127-27-lm6ylo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=481&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/561985/original/file-20231127-27-lm6ylo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=481&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Chekhov reads The Seagull with the Moscow Art Theatre company, 1898.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Anton_Chekhov_reads_The_Seagull.jpg">Wikimedia Commons</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>In a letter sent to the publisher Aleksey Suvorin the very next day, a wounded <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/files/6408/6408-h/6408-h.htm">Chekhov declared</a> he would never again “write plays or have them acted”.</p>
<p>The reason why the premiere went so badly has to do with audience expectations. As essayist <a href="https://www.allenandunwin.com/browse/book/Janet-Malcolm-Reading-Chekhov-9781847085368">Janet Malcolm</a> explains, there were special circumstances on the night in question. </p>
<p>The performance was part of a benefit event for E. I. Levkeeva, a popular Russian comic actress, “and so the audience was largely made up of Levkeeva fans, who expected hilarity and, to their disbelief and growing outrage, got <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Symbolism_(arts)#Theatre">Symbolism</a>.”</p>
<p>Primed for broad comedy, the audience didn’t know what to do with Chehkov’s groundbreaking spin on the genre, which broke with established realist modes and placed emphasis on metaphorical imagery and allegorical tropes.</p>
<p>While the play, which speaks to the themes of art and desire, has many funny moments, it simultaneously foregrounds discussions of mortality and depictions of madness. And it ends with a suicide.</p>
<p>Moreover, Chekhov’s play is one where, as the academic <a href="https://www.cambridge.org/core/books/cambridge-introduction-to-chekhov/FF993E471DCA286DFDE4C67503C8DBF5">James Loehlin writes</a></p>
<blockquote>
<p>the old win out over the young, where hope and the impulse for change are crushed, in part through their own fragility and lack of conviction, but in part by the proficient ruthlessness of the seasoned old campaigners, their elders.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>I mention this because the serious and subtle aspects of The Seagull – many of which continue to resonate today – can get lost in modern takes on Chekhov’s play.</p>
<p>This is true of the Sydney Theatre Company’s production. Adapted by Upton and directed by Imara Savage, this version showcases the sound work of Max Lyandvert and features a meta-theatrical set designed by David Fleischer.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/561986/original/file-20231127-15-mjzft2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A man sits on a deck." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/561986/original/file-20231127-15-mjzft2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/561986/original/file-20231127-15-mjzft2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/561986/original/file-20231127-15-mjzft2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/561986/original/file-20231127-15-mjzft2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/561986/original/file-20231127-15-mjzft2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/561986/original/file-20231127-15-mjzft2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/561986/original/file-20231127-15-mjzft2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">This version is set in contemporary rural Australia.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Prudence Upton/Sydney Theatre Company</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The adaptation is set in contemporary rural Australia and uses anglicised character names. Upton and Savage stick with Chekhov’s formal structure, but privilege the comedic at the expense of pretty much everything else when it comes to delivery. </p>
<p>This has ramifications for how the adaptation pans out.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/the-lies-of-happiness-living-with-affluenza-but-without-fulfilment-42886">The lies of happiness: living with affluenza but without fulfilment</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>Success beckons, tragedy befalls</h2>
<p>The play comprises four acts and centres on four characters who mirror each other. </p>
<p>Constantine (Harry Greenwood) and Boris (Toby Schmitz) are writers. Boris is famous. Constantine – a college dropout who fancies his chances as an avant-gardist – is most definitely not. </p>
<p>Irina (Sigrid Thornton) and Nina (Mabel Li) are actors. Irina, who is Constantine’s mother and Boris’s lover, is a renowned stage star. The ingénue Nina, who is dating Constantine, desperately wants to make it.</p>
<p>Success beckons, but tragedy eventually befalls Nina – who leaves Constantine for Boris – in the two year gap between the play’s third and fourth acts.</p>
<p>These characters are joined by several others, including Irina’s ailing landowner brother Peter (Sean O'Shea), and a depressive young goth, Masha (Megan Wilding). With the exception of one, every character in the play is morose. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/561987/original/file-20231127-28-mjzft2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="The cast line up across the stage." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/561987/original/file-20231127-28-mjzft2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/561987/original/file-20231127-28-mjzft2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/561987/original/file-20231127-28-mjzft2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/561987/original/file-20231127-28-mjzft2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/561987/original/file-20231127-28-mjzft2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/561987/original/file-20231127-28-mjzft2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/561987/original/file-20231127-28-mjzft2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">With the exception of one, every character in the play is morose.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Prudence Upton/Sydney Theatre Company</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The first act is structured around an abortive performance of an experimental theatre piece Constantine has worked up. Nina and Boris grow close in the second, while Irina holds court. At the start of the third act, it is revealed Constantine has tried to take his own life. Boris threatens to leave Irina for Nina. Hilarity ensues as Irina tries to win him back. </p>
<p>The atmosphere that the Sydney Theatre Company creative team establishes in each of these acts is lighthearted and largely humorous. Indeed, there are some moments, as when a gravely ill Peter convulses on the ground in the third act, when the onstage action almost tips over into outright farce.</p>
<p>As Chekhov himself insisted, different types of comedy – including farce – had roles to play in The Seagull. However, the overarching tonal emphasis in this adaptation causes problems in the play’s last act, which is set indoors during the Australian winter. </p>
<p>Peter, not long for the world, spends his time talking about how he regrets his entire life. The other characters fob him off. Constantine has made headway as a writer, but is deeply unhappy. He pines after Nina, who dropped off the radar somewhere between acts. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/561984/original/file-20231127-19-dzlc6c.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A woman looks at a man holding a seagull." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/561984/original/file-20231127-19-dzlc6c.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/561984/original/file-20231127-19-dzlc6c.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/561984/original/file-20231127-19-dzlc6c.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/561984/original/file-20231127-19-dzlc6c.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/561984/original/file-20231127-19-dzlc6c.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/561984/original/file-20231127-19-dzlc6c.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/561984/original/file-20231127-19-dzlc6c.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Mabel Li gives one of the standout performances.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Prudence Upton/Sydney Theatre Company</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Time passes, and trivialities exchanged. A bedraggled Nina reappears. The story she tells is one of sorrow and woe. A genuinely moving moment, the speech is delivered with real affective intensity – undoubtedly the high point of the production.</p>
<p>However, the tonal chasm between the final act and the preceding three is simply too great. </p>
<p>In keeping with Chehkov’s original, comedy ultimately gives way to tragedy, but something seems to have been lost along the way.</p>
<p><em>The Seagull is at the Sydney Theatre Company until December 16.</em></p>
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<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/belvoirs-the-master-and-margarita-astonishingly-ambitious-physically-demanding-and-a-resounding-success-217366">Belvoir's The Master and Margarita: astonishingly ambitious, physically demanding and a resounding success</a>
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</em>
</p>
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<p><em>If this article has raised issues for you, or if you’re concerned about someone you know, call Lifeline on 13 11 14.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/215799/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Alexander Howard does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>The serious and subtle aspects of The Seagull – many of which continue to resonate today – are lost in this new production.Alexander Howard, Senior Lecturer, Discipline of English, University of SydneyLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/2172742023-11-24T04:24:35Z2023-11-24T04:24:35ZThe exquisite physical comedy of Dirty Birds: a new Aussie post-COVID Theatre of the Absurd<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/561500/original/file-20231124-25-fo4hpj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=29%2C5%2C3964%2C2646&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Daniel J Grant/BSSTC</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Theatre is littered with sister double acts: Antigone and Ismene, Kate and Bianca, Blanche and Stella, Fleabag and Claire. The shared history of sisters delivers inbuilt emotional stakes and lots of baggage. The doubling of experience brings both love and rivalry, the joys of being known and the horrors of being trapped by the reflection of the other. Looking like not-quite twins, real-life sisters Hayley and Mandy McElhinney are the dirty birds of the title, in the world premiere of a co-written work in which they play reclusive sisters.</p>
<p>With a broad resume of work on stage and screen, Dirty Birds is their debut play and the first time the McElhinney sisters have shared the stage. It wasn’t until COVID shut us all down that they found the time and space (on Zoom) to collaborate on the script, later developed with director Kate Champion.</p>
<p>Dirty Birds is indebted to Theatre of the Absurd. <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/en/book/show/359954">Writing in the 1960s</a>, Martin Esslin brought an otherwise disconnected group of playwrights like Beckett, Adamov, Ionesco and Genet together under the umbrella term “Absurd”, coined via Albert Camus’ 1942 essay <a href="https://www2.hawaii.edu/%7Efreeman/courses/phil360/16.%20Myth%20of%20Sisyphus.pdf">The Myth of Sisyphus</a>. </p>
<p>For Esslin, such theatre “strives to express its sense of the senselessness of the human condition and the inadequacy of the rational approach”. Emerging as it did after the horrors of the second world war, absurdism makes sense in a post-COVID work such as Dirty Birds.</p>
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<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/tragedy-is-dead-in-australia-long-live-laughter-and-weather-reports-34185">Tragedy is dead in Australia, long live laughter and weather reports</a>
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</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>Are we inside or outside?</h2>
<p>At first the set (designed by Bruce McKinven) seems to be a single, nondescript brown house interior. But over the course of the play, with the addition of Paul Jackson’s lighting, a multitude of locational possibilities appear: an abandoned house; a submerged shipwreck; a cubby house; a cathedral; a doll house; a paper house; a box. </p>
<p>Matching the experience of the sisters, the longer the audience spends in the space, what seemed like the inside becomes the outside, until they are interchangeable. The interplay of McKinven and Jackson’s images do a lot of the narrative heavy lifting in terms of the structure, build and cumulative emphasis of the performance.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/561498/original/file-20231124-17-fo4hpj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="The stage, a house built of cardboard." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/561498/original/file-20231124-17-fo4hpj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/561498/original/file-20231124-17-fo4hpj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/561498/original/file-20231124-17-fo4hpj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/561498/original/file-20231124-17-fo4hpj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/561498/original/file-20231124-17-fo4hpj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/561498/original/file-20231124-17-fo4hpj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/561498/original/file-20231124-17-fo4hpj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Inside looking out, or outside looking in?</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Daniel J Grant/BSSTC</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>There is a sculptural quality to Champion’s use of static imagery in recurring sequences of one sister waiting for the other. Flickering through images like a life-sized flipbook, the sisters are in a constant state of waiting – perhaps the most well-known absurdist trope. </p>
<p>The sense of time passing could be minutes, years or forever. And yet, despite this stasis, as layers of costume are shed, there is a build from winter to spring, from dormant to active, until the expanse of time becomes today.</p>
<h2>You could be anyone else</h2>
<p>We are introduced to the sisters via their multiple alter egos as they pretend to be anyone other than themselves in a series of games and rituals that keep them separated from the outside world and embedded in their shared, internal world: both an escape and a trap. </p>
<p>In what could be a continuation of childhood games, the sisters play with tropes of Irish storytelling (tied to the McElhinneys’ own Irish heritage), 1950s American sitcoms and moments of camp horror. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/561499/original/file-20231124-15-8g45hy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="The sisters dance." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/561499/original/file-20231124-15-8g45hy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/561499/original/file-20231124-15-8g45hy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/561499/original/file-20231124-15-8g45hy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/561499/original/file-20231124-15-8g45hy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/561499/original/file-20231124-15-8g45hy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/561499/original/file-20231124-15-8g45hy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/561499/original/file-20231124-15-8g45hy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">A childhood game – or an act of camp horror?</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Daniel J Grant/BSSTC</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>There’s a tonal touch of the psychological rivalry of What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? – another story of sisters – of one sister being held captive by the other. </p>
<p>Having cobbled together their own personal mythology of stories, the sisters are pulled between the games and the outside world, where everything’s big except the conversations (which are small). There are glimpses of it via trips to the box (aka the letterbox) and the mounting foreclosure notices that culminate in a stunning visual cavalcade as the outside world awakens.</p>
<p>Unlike Beckett or Ionesco (the most famous of Esslin’s absurdists) Dirty Birds often breaks the conceit when one of the sisters (usually Hayley) brings them crashing into their present by referring to their predicament. The rules are also broken non-verbally when the other sister breaks the confinement of the house to appear at the edges.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/guide-to-the-classics-samuel-becketts-waiting-for-godot-a-tragicomedy-for-our-times-157962">Guide to the Classics: Samuel Beckett’s Waiting for Godot, a tragicomedy for our times</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>Well-worn relationships</h2>
<p>The McElhinneys have written themselves a spectacular showcase. The meta-quality of them as real sisters is unavoidable, and their compelling biological chemistry is on full display. Women’s bodies are central in this contemporary rendering of the Absurd. The stink of embodiment is tangible, comforting and symptomatic; it speaks to the joyous freedom as well as the suffocating snare of secretive, sisterly intimacy. </p>
<p>There are also moments of exquisite physical comedy emerging from the timing and repetition of a well-worn relationship.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/561497/original/file-20231124-26-cvpb0z.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=11%2C5%2C3982%2C2652&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Two sisters on stage" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/561497/original/file-20231124-26-cvpb0z.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=11%2C5%2C3982%2C2652&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/561497/original/file-20231124-26-cvpb0z.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/561497/original/file-20231124-26-cvpb0z.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/561497/original/file-20231124-26-cvpb0z.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/561497/original/file-20231124-26-cvpb0z.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/561497/original/file-20231124-26-cvpb0z.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/561497/original/file-20231124-26-cvpb0z.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The biological chemistry is palpable.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Daniel J Grant/BSSTC</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Esslin refuted the common misconception that Theatre of the Absurd should necessarily be despair-filled and meaningless. Rather, he saw these plays as an “endeavour to come to terms with the world”, to “face up to the human condition as it really is” and free us “from illusions that are bound to cause constant maladjustment and disappointment”. </p>
<p>Or, as theatre critic Michael Y. Bennett <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/19646109-reassessing-the-theatre-of-the-absurd">argues</a>, absurdist plays are “ethical parables that force the audience to make life meaningful”. </p>
<p>As the sisters grapple with themselves and each other, between taking personal responsibility or being overwhelmed by despair, what perseveres is the poignancy of their connection and in the play’s final moments the endurance of hope.</p>
<hr>
<p><em>Dirty Birds, from Black Swan State Theatre Company, is at the Heath Ledger Theatre, Perth, until December 10.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/217274/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Leah Mercer does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>Dirty Birds at Black Swan State Theatre Company is the debut play by the McElhinney sisters, and the first time they’ve shared the stage.Leah Mercer, Associate Professor of Theatre Arts, Curtin UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/2175612023-11-17T03:54:30Z2023-11-17T03:54:30ZPlay School meets Ikea: new Australian play Welcome to Your New Life hilariously captures new motherhood<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/560092/original/file-20231116-19-nz4fa3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=30%2C10%2C6688%2C3968&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Matt Byrne/STCSA</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Anna Goldsworthy’s hilarious and beautifully honest book Welcome To Your New Life celebrates the joy and roller-coaster ride of first-time parenting.</p>
<p>Now a new play adapted for the stage by Goldsworthy, Welcome To Your New Life takes the audience through the experience of pregnancy, delivery and new parenthood from sleep-deprived birth to toddler years. </p>
<p>Goldsworthy’s lively writing – monologues interspersed with vignettes, songs and small scenes – deftly captures the joy and wilful naivety of a first pregnancy, followed by the overwhelming love and sleep-deprivation-induced anxiety of the first months. As a mother of two I laughed, scoffed, giggled and cried in recognition and remembrance of the bliss and insanity of being a newly minted parent. </p>
<p>Erin James excels as the unnamed mum-to-be/new mum: her delight is infectious, her navigating of what other people expect when you’re expecting is razor-sharp, and her post-natal anxiety spirals heartbreaking in their relentlessness. </p>
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<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/is-it-possible-to-describe-the-complexity-and-absurdity-of-motherhood-181066">Is it possible to describe the complexity and absurdity of motherhood?</a>
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</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>A joy</h2>
<p>All three actors are a sheer joy to watch.</p>
<p>Family and friends, medical professionals, passers-by, the family dog and assorted new mothers are deftly brought to life by Kathryn Adams and Matt Crook. Crook’s breastfeeding patronising new mum is a highlight, as is Adams’ lactation consultant. Crook and Adams also each take on key roles in the new mum’s life.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/560094/original/file-20231116-15-e2ewrl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A man and a woman ham for the camera." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/560094/original/file-20231116-15-e2ewrl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/560094/original/file-20231116-15-e2ewrl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/560094/original/file-20231116-15-e2ewrl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/560094/original/file-20231116-15-e2ewrl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/560094/original/file-20231116-15-e2ewrl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/560094/original/file-20231116-15-e2ewrl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/560094/original/file-20231116-15-e2ewrl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The cast are a joy to watch.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Matt Byrne/STCSA</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The mum’s much-loved grandmother Moggie is given warmth, humour and depth by Adams in a masterful performance. The love and support between the mum and Moggie is one of the relationships we see in detail; her kind comforting of the frazzled mother is part of the human heart of this piece. Through her, we are invited to reflect on the cycle of life and death that is the human condition.</p>
<p>The other detailed relationship is the devoted, then exhausted, husband-and-father Nicholas, played by Crook with superb skill and uncanny accuracy. His scenes with James – welcome moments in the play where the story is told in duologue – are lively and nuanced. A scene where the accumulated lack of sleep while on a blackly funny holiday finally brings them to shouting point is given devastating honesty by Crook. </p>
<h2>Adoring and cooing</h2>
<p>Beautifully directed by Shannon Rush, the first act centres on the mum-to-be. Rush repeatedly seats James on a circular couch chair in the middle of a circular Mondrian-esque rug, evoking the baby in the womb. </p>
<p>As the audience, in the second act we are positioned as “you”, the much-adored new baby. The performers focus their attention on different audience members as if they are the baby – adoring and cooing, marvelling at the developmental brilliance or bodily functions of this miracle child.</p>
<p>Simon Greer’s set is a child’s playroom on a giant scale, the actors tiny among the huge letter blocks, doors, box shelves and giant hanging mobile. Huge wooden toys serve as stethoscopes and seats, even the ever-present mobile phones are flat blocks of wood: it’s Play School meets Ikea. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/560091/original/file-20231116-20-xjji4m.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="The stage." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/560091/original/file-20231116-20-xjji4m.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/560091/original/file-20231116-20-xjji4m.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/560091/original/file-20231116-20-xjji4m.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/560091/original/file-20231116-20-xjji4m.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/560091/original/file-20231116-20-xjji4m.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/560091/original/file-20231116-20-xjji4m.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/560091/original/file-20231116-20-xjji4m.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Simon Greer’s set is a child’s playroom on a giant scale.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Matt Byrne/STCSA</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The second act is stripped back, all bleached white scandi surfaces, giant alphabet blocks now lined up neatly along the walls, centre stage starkly empty – perfectly reflecting the too-bright world of post-natal sleep deprivation and its resultant devastating anxiety. </p>
<p>Gavin Norris’ lighting is simple and elegant: the massive contemporary light circle also eerily suggesting the too-bright light above the delivery-room bed.</p>
<h2>A play with music</h2>
<p>Billed as “a play with music”, composer Alan John’s music is beautifully wrapped around and through the story. Woven through the scenes are classical piano music and John’s songs, evoking and quoting nursery rhymes, or giving voice to key moments. Heartbeats and baby screaming are part of an ebbing and flowing sound design by Andrew Howard.</p>
<p>A large toy piano is a reminder of Goldsworthy’s life as a concert pianist. Key moments play out here: the mum plays music to negotiate the challenges she faces, and the ultimate new project: birthing a baby.</p>
<p>The three performers play toy pianos, glockenspiels, guitar and percussion, and also sing beautifully in harmony. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/560093/original/file-20231116-17-hgq4yl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A woman stands in front of a toilet." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/560093/original/file-20231116-17-hgq4yl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/560093/original/file-20231116-17-hgq4yl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=361&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/560093/original/file-20231116-17-hgq4yl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=361&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/560093/original/file-20231116-17-hgq4yl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=361&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/560093/original/file-20231116-17-hgq4yl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=453&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/560093/original/file-20231116-17-hgq4yl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=453&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/560093/original/file-20231116-17-hgq4yl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=453&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">A song about a composting toilet is a particular delight.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Matt Byrne/STCSA</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Inevitably there is some unevenness to this new show: some of the monologue songs in act one are less melodic and more difficult to access emotionally for the audience, but James’ clear voice shines, especially in the lush and dramatic piece about the dangers to a baby of a composting toilet. </p>
<p>In her program notes, Goldsworthy reflects on childbirth and parenting, a time when “survival becomes a greater priority than making art”. </p>
<p>Thank goodness for Goldsworthy’s writer’s reflex recording all her pregnancy-birth-post-partum experiences as they happened. Hilarious, insightful, heartfelt and zinging with the ping of recognition for parents and anyone who’s watched others go through this, Welcome To Your New Life is an important and wonderful new arrival.</p>
<hr>
<p><em>Welcome to your New Life is on at the State Theatre Company South Australia until November 25.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/217561/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Catherine Campbell does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>Anna Goldsworthy’s lively writing deftly captures the joy and wilful naivety of a first pregnancy, followed by the overwhelming love and sleep-deprivation-induced anxiety of the first months.Catherine Campbell, Lecturer, Performing Arts, UniSA Creative, University of South AustraliaLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/2173662023-11-17T02:07:29Z2023-11-17T02:07:29ZBelvoir’s The Master and Margarita: astonishingly ambitious, physically demanding and a resounding success<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/560084/original/file-20231116-19-ao2o82.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=11%2C5%2C1905%2C1273&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Brett Boardman/Belvoir</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Russian writer Mikhail Bulgakov’s cult novel The Master and Margarita has inspired many artists. </p>
<p><a href="https://www.udiscovermusic.com/stories/the-rolling-stones-sympathy-for-the-devil-feature/">Mick Jagger</a> drew on the novel when penning the lyrics for Sympathy for the Devil. <a href="https://digitalcommons.unl.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1001&context=modlangrussian">Salman Rushdie</a> did something similar when writing The Satanic Verses. <a href="https://www.abc.net.au/news/2020-08-01/master-and-margarita-mikhail-bulgakov-legacy-russia-and-beyond/12465490">Baz Luhrmann</a> bought the film rights for Bulgakov’s book back in 2019. <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/stage/2012/mar/18/master-margarita-fiends-reunited-review">Federico Fellini</a> and <a href="https://www.penguin.com.au/books/black-snow-9781409090342">Terry Gilliam</a> are two other noted filmmakers who have expressed an interest in adapting the novel.</p>
<p>If and when he does film The Master and Margarita, Luhrmann would do well to refer to Eamon Flack’s riotous new stage interpretation.</p>
<h2>Literary legend</h2>
<p>A physician by trade, Bulgakov, who was born in Kyiv in 1891 and died in Moscow in 1940, turned his hand to writing in the 1910s. During his lifetime, he was best known as a playwright. Bulgakov’s biggest success was the 1925 play The Days of the Turbins, a theatrical adaptation of his novel The White Guard, also published in 1925.</p>
<p>The theme of that play was the bloody and savage Russian Civil War. Despite being highly critical of Lenin and his band of Communists, Bulgakov’s play was much admired by the brutal dictator Joseph Stalin, who reportedly watched it <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/culture/2010/mar/20/will-self-white-guard-bulgakov">at least 15 times</a>. </p>
<p>Like The Days of the Turbins, The Master and Margarita – best thought of as a supernatural satire – was scathing when it came to the excesses and repressions associated with Soviet Communism. </p>
<p>The fraught and protracted compositional history of the novel is the stuff of literary legend. Written between 1928 and 1940, Bulgakov’s novel was drafted in secret and subject to censorship at the hands of the Soviet state, and was not published in full until 1967.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/560085/original/file-20231116-17-bg9ohl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A woman on stage" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/560085/original/file-20231116-17-bg9ohl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/560085/original/file-20231116-17-bg9ohl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/560085/original/file-20231116-17-bg9ohl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/560085/original/file-20231116-17-bg9ohl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/560085/original/file-20231116-17-bg9ohl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/560085/original/file-20231116-17-bg9ohl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/560085/original/file-20231116-17-bg9ohl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The Master and Margarita revolves around a visit by the devil and their entourage to Moscow.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Brett Boardman/Belvoir</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The plot of the epic novel, now regarded as a masterpiece of 20th-century literature, revolves around a visit by the devil and their entourage to Moscow. The devil (in a nod to Goethe’s Faust) assumes the guise of a certain Professor Woland, and sets about challenging state-sponsored beliefs about religion and personal conduct. Chaos ensues.</p>
<p>In his directorial notes, Flack, who worked on the adaptation with Tom Wright as dramaturg, describes being drawn to the novel’s “magical ability to outwit and outlive dogma, authoritarianism, repression and fear”. </p>
<p>By and large, Flack’s play, which places great emphasis on spectacle (if sometimes at the expense of the original’s satire), is a resounding success. While some of the critiques of contemporary Australian life in the play are at times a touch jarring, the company’s steadfast commitment to theatrical risk-taking and innovation is admirable. </p>
<p>I was particularly taken with the cast and artistic team’s compelling use of stage magic, speaking to the magical realist strands found in Bulgakov’s novel, while generating a series of genuinely beautiful tableaux.</p>
<h2>Astonishingly ambitious</h2>
<p>When we enter the theatre, the stage is almost completely bare and the walls have been painted black. Three members of the ensemble enter. Matilda Ridgway, excellent as the play’s narrator, picks up a battered paperback copy of Bulgakov’s novel, left in the middle of the otherwise empty stage. The trio then start to read aloud, and the stage begins to turn.</p>
<p>Following this introductory act of incantation, the devil – portrayed with aplomb by Paula Arundell – makes their entrance. So, too, does the devil’s entourage, which includes, memorably, a big black talking cat called Behemoth (played with great comedic brio by Josh Price). </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/560086/original/file-20231116-15-k87l2k.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A man reads a book, another man dressed as a cat holds him by the nape of his neck." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/560086/original/file-20231116-15-k87l2k.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/560086/original/file-20231116-15-k87l2k.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/560086/original/file-20231116-15-k87l2k.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/560086/original/file-20231116-15-k87l2k.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/560086/original/file-20231116-15-k87l2k.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/560086/original/file-20231116-15-k87l2k.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/560086/original/file-20231116-15-k87l2k.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Behemoth is played with great comedic brio by Josh Price.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Brett Boardman/Belvoir</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>We are then introduced to a host of historically and geographically disparate characters, including the Master (Mark Leonard Winter) and his beloved Margarita (a standout performance by Anna Sansom), along with a wandering philosopher by the name of Yeshua (Winter), interrogated at the hands of Pontius Pilate (Marco Chiappi). </p>
<p>From here, we follow our characters through time and space as narratives unfold, supported by remarkable use of the revolving stage by cast and crew.</p>
<p>What we have here is an astonishingly ambitious – and physically demanding – work of adaptation, which runs for almost three hours. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/560089/original/file-20231116-17-jko3k.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="The cast on stage." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/560089/original/file-20231116-17-jko3k.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/560089/original/file-20231116-17-jko3k.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/560089/original/file-20231116-17-jko3k.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/560089/original/file-20231116-17-jko3k.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/560089/original/file-20231116-17-jko3k.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/560089/original/file-20231116-17-jko3k.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/560089/original/file-20231116-17-jko3k.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The company’s steadfast commitment to theatrical risk-taking and creativity is admirable.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Brett Boardman/Belvoir</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Despite its lengthy running time, the play never lags. The uniformly excellent ensemble, who make good use of music and physical comedy, succeed in capturing and then holding our attention. This, to my mind, is a measure of the play’s success. It also demonstrates that there is a real desire for fresh and creative approaches to contemporary theatre.</p>
<p>Speaking to the Sydney Morning Herald, <a href="https://www.smh.com.au/culture/theatre/this-book-inspired-mick-jagger-terrifies-vladimir-putin-and-may-be-cursed-20231011-p5ebi8.html">Flack spoke</a> to precisely this point. Part of Bulgakov’s enduring appeal, for Flack, has to do with the fact that “you can just begin by thinking differently and imagining differently”. </p>
<p>Flack started work on this adaptation during lockdowns, working with actors to devise scenes based on the novel. It was a collaborative process that would stretch out over two years – much longer than the standard development time for a new Australian play.</p>
<p>Flack concedes this “new way of working that we’ve been trying out might bomb badly, but it might break through into something. And that’s what the arts should be.” </p>
<p>Were he alive today, I imagine Mikhail Bulgakov would wholeheartedly approve of this adaptation. </p>
<p><em>The Master and Margarita is at Belvoir, Sydney, until December 10.</em></p>
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Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/australian-theatre-companies-are-shunning-shakespeare-a-much-needed-break-or-a-mistake-215597">Australian theatre companies are shunning Shakespeare. A much-needed break, or a mistake?</a>
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<img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/217366/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Alexander Howard does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>Eamon Flack gives Bulgakov’s classic epic novel a riotous interpretation.Alexander Howard, Senior Lecturer, Discipline of English, University of SydneyLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/2155972023-10-17T19:06:57Z2023-10-17T19:06:57ZAustralian theatre companies are shunning Shakespeare. A much-needed break, or a mistake?<p>A decade ago, William Shakespeare was the <a href="https://www.smh.com.au/entertainment/australian-theatre-exhausted-and-waning-claims-director-and-academic-julian-meyrick-20140508-zr6ph.html">most performed playwright in Australia</a>. In 2024 not one mainstage theatre company in Australia will perform Shakespeare. The only exception will be Bell Shakespeare. </p>
<p>This shift has been a long time coming. Theatre makers such as <a href="https://www.smh.com.au/opinion/we-should-ban-shakespeare-from-the-stage-for-five-years-20160502-gojv86.html">Lachlan Philpott</a>, <a href="https://www.abc.net.au/qanda/2021-28-10/13596856">Nakkiah Lui</a> and <a href="https://dailyreview.com.au/andrew-bovell-i-as-an-australian-playwright-am-up-for-the-fight/">Andrew Bovell</a> have been calling for less Shakespeare and more new work since the mid-2010s. </p>
<p>Today, their advocacy is bearing fruit. </p>
<p>Of the 79 plays being performed in 2024, 68 (87%) were written after 2000, 60 (76%) were written after 2014, and 23 (29%) will have their world premiere in 2024. Only three were written prior to the 20th century – and that’s if you count <a href="https://www.sydneytheatre.com.au/whats-on/productions/2024/dracula">Kip Williams’ new adaptation of Dracula</a>, alongside Bell Shakespeare’s two plays.</p>
<p>New work is important. A truly rich cultural conversation must include a variety of voices and fresh perspectives. But alongside new work and new voices, nuanced engagement with the past is needed.</p>
<p><iframe id="tc-infographic-944" class="tc-infographic" height="400px" src="https://cdn.theconversation.com/infographics/944/5a8b35004a978ff351142be5e221553e2378e0af/site/index.html" width="100%" style="border: none" frameborder="0"></iframe></p>
<h2>A forum for conversations</h2>
<p>Shakespeare is important, not just because he wrote great plays, and definitely not because he is perfect. He is important because we have, for 400 years, <a href="https://www.routledge.com/Big-Time-Shakespeare/Bristol/p/book/9780415060172"><em>made</em> him important</a>, using his work to have rich conversations about identity, truth, meaning and morality. </p>
<p>These conversations are worth participating in. </p>
<p>Australia’s mainstage <a href="https://www.taylorfrancis.com/chapters/mono/10.4324/9781003176138-1/introduction-chris-hay-stephen-carleton">comprises 11 companies</a>: State Theatre Company of South Australia in Adelaide; Queensland Theatre and La Boite Theatre in Brisbane; Melbourne Theatre Company and Malthouse Theatre in Melbourne; Black Swan State Theatre Company in Perth; and Belvoir, Bell Shakespeare, Griffin Theatre Company, Ensemble Theatre and Sydney Theatre Company in Sydney. All except La Boite have announced their 2024 seasons.</p>
<p>The fact that none of these companies will perform Shakespeare next year suggests a decline in engagement with the canon outside of adaptations. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/554107/original/file-20231016-21-wgyabw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/554107/original/file-20231016-21-wgyabw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/554107/original/file-20231016-21-wgyabw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=360&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/554107/original/file-20231016-21-wgyabw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=360&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/554107/original/file-20231016-21-wgyabw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=360&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/554107/original/file-20231016-21-wgyabw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=453&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/554107/original/file-20231016-21-wgyabw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=453&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/554107/original/file-20231016-21-wgyabw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=453&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Edwin Landseer, Scene from A Midsummer Night’s Dream, Titania and Bottom (1848-1851). Oil on canvas 82.0×133.0cm. National Gallery of Victoria, Melbourne Felton Bequest, 1932. Photo: National Gallery of Victoria, Melbourne.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/">CC BY-NC</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>This decline is, in some ways, justified. We don’t need to perform Shakespeare all the time. We certainly don’t need to trot out tired, uninspired performances just for the sake of doing Shakespeare. </p>
<p>But if new work is not in conversation with the canon, we risk taking an uncritical and oversimplified view of the past – and present and future. We risk understanding ourselves merely through the lens of now, rather than enriching our present through discussion with our history. </p>
<p>Playwrights <a href="https://www.smh.com.au/opinion/we-should-ban-shakespeare-from-the-stage-for-five-years-20160502-gojv86.html">Philpott</a> and <a href="https://dailyreview.com.au/andrew-bovell-i-as-an-australian-playwright-am-up-for-the-fight/">Bovell</a> have expressed understandable frustration at productions tying themselves in knots trying to make Shakespeare “relevant”. If your aim is to make the text reflect modern values, why not simply perform a new play? </p>
<p>Perhaps we do need a break from Shakespeare if all we can do is insist he is always, and in all things, <a href="https://books.google.com.au/books/about/Shakespeare_Our_Contemporary.html?id=QIrdQfCMnfQC&redir_esc=y">our contemporary</a>. </p>
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<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/shakespeares-environmentalism-how-his-plays-explore-the-same-ecological-issues-we-face-today-202891">Shakespeare's environmentalism: how his plays explore the same ecological issues we face today</a>
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</p>
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<h2>Critical engagement</h2>
<p>There is an alternative to this false dilemma. We are not restricted to either using Shakespeare as a sock puppet to voice our own ideas, or ignoring him altogether. Rather, we can perform Shakespeare in a critically engaged, nuanced way. </p>
<p>This means avoiding easy categories like “problematic” or “universal”. Like any fruitful conversation, it means listening, sitting with discomfort, learning, recognising what still speaks to us, and responding to what doesn’t. </p>
<p>Conversing with Shakespeare does not mean smoothing over problems or forcing him to agree with us. Sydney Theatre Company’s 2022 production of The Tempest, directed by Kip Williams, attempted to correct the play’s racism by radically editing the text. </p>
<p>By trying to solve The Tempest, the production glossed over its problems rather than engaging critically with them. </p>
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<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/weve-been-editing-shakespeares-plays-for-400-years-but-does-a-new-australian-production-of-the-tempest-idealise-the-bard-194635">We've been editing Shakespeare's plays for 400 years – but does a new Australian production of The Tempest idealise the Bard?</a>
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<p>There are excellent examples of Australian theatre makers grappling with problems in Shakespeare. </p>
<p>Anne-Louise Sarks’ 2017 production of The Merchant of Venice for Bell Shakespeare explored the uncomfortable religious and social dynamics of the play. </p>
<p>The scenes in which Shylock is forced to surrender both his property and his faith were jarringly and uncomfortably melancholy. There was no attempt to shrug off the pain of the play’s conclusion for Shylock and his daughter Jessica. </p>
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<p>Jason Klarwein and Jimi Bani’s 2022 Othello at Queensland Theatre used translation, casting and design choices to confront and interrogate the themes of the play. </p>
<p>This production explored and highlighted racism and sexism, both in 20th century Australia, and within the play itself. </p>
<p>Othello has <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_es_tmOYY5I">a vexed performance history</a>, and this production was an important contribution to a 400-year-old conversation. </p>
<p>In Benedict Andrews’ 2009 production of The War of the Roses for Sydney Theatre Company, Shakespeare’s Henry V was stripped back to a series of soliloquies spoken by Ewen Leslie. </p>
<p>Covered in glitter, then oil, and eventually blood, Leslie as Henry V invited audiences to confront not only the humanity of “the warlike Harry”, but also the horror associated with his military triumph.</p>
<h2>Talking back to history</h2>
<p>By confronting – rather than avoiding, removing or “fixing” problems in Shakespeare – productions can invite audiences to ask important questions. Why have certain ideas been acceptable in the past? Why are they not so now? What are we doing differently today, and what should we be doing differently?</p>
<p>Nuanced, two-way conversations with our cultural history are vital to progress. </p>
<p><a href="https://theconversation.com/decolonising-shakespeare-setting-othello-in-ghana-and-pericles-in-glasgow-174166">Decolonising the canon</a> does not mean ignoring it, but dialoguing with it. It means learning from, questioning, and talking back to our history. Doing this will allow us to better understand our present and know who we would like to be in our future. </p>
<p>Of the 79 works being performed on the 2024 Australian mainstage, 68 were written in the new millennium. Shifting the balance of old and new ever-so-slightly would enrich our cultural conversation. </p>
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<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/can-you-extract-a-pound-of-flesh-without-blood-how-the-power-struggles-in-shakespearean-drama-speak-to-an-age-of-decolonisation-196567">Can you extract a pound of flesh without blood? How the power struggles in Shakespearean drama speak to an age of decolonisation</a>
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<img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/215597/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Caitlin West previously completed an industry placement at Bell Shakespeare.</span></em></p>Shakespeare will be all but absent at Australian theatres in 2024 – but we need to embrace the complexities of the canon, not shy away from it.Caitlin West, PhD Candidate in Drama and Theatre Studies, The University of QueenslandLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/2127052023-10-12T03:48:47Z2023-10-12T03:48:47ZVenus and Adonis: this ‘play within a plague’ about Shakespeare is wildly romantic, erotic and colourful<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/553128/original/file-20231010-23-zewfin.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=6%2C0%2C1071%2C717&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Kate Williams/Seymour Centre and Sport For Jove</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Shakespeare wrote his famous narrative poem <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Venus_and_Adonis_(Shakespeare_poem)">Venus and Adonis</a> in a lockdown era when, in 1593, the <a href="https://www.folger.edu/blogs/shakespeare-and-beyond/speaking-what-we-feel-shakespeares-plague-plays/">bubonic plague</a> closed the theatres in London for 18 months. </p>
<p>In Shakespeare’s poem Venus, the Roman goddess of love, continuously tries to seduce the human Adonis, who would rather go hunting with the lads than be caught kissing a goddess. </p>
<p>Shakespeare’s poem liberates female desire by having Venus lament that Adonis won’t gratify her sexually. Shakespeare makes Venus physically larger than Adonis, who struggles to defuse her lust. At one stage, Venus rips Adonis off his horse to carry him under her arm. </p>
<p>Although Adonis resists Venus, the sensuous eros in the verse of Shakespeare’s clever treatment certainly helped to drive its popularity:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>“Fondling,” she saith, “since I have hemmed thee here <br>
Within the circuit of this ivory pale, <br>
I’ll be a park, and thou shalt be my deer; <br>
Feed where thou wilt, on mountain or in dale: <br>
Graze on my lips, and if those hills be dry, <br>
Stray lower, where the pleasant fountains lie. <br></p>
</blockquote>
<p>Shakespeare’s poem has been called the <a href="https://theconversation.com/friday-essay-50-shades-of-shakespeare-how-the-bard-sexed-things-up-106783">Fifty Shades of Grey of its day</a> – a trite comparison in literary terms, but a fair comparison for its commercial popularity and erotic content. </p>
<p>Educated young men – and Queen Elizabeth I, according to Damien Ryan’s new play – kept a copy of the narrative poem under their pillow. </p>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/553130/original/file-20231010-19-f56yvi.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A woman reads over a fire." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/553130/original/file-20231010-19-f56yvi.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/553130/original/file-20231010-19-f56yvi.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=900&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/553130/original/file-20231010-19-f56yvi.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=900&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/553130/original/file-20231010-19-f56yvi.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=900&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/553130/original/file-20231010-19-f56yvi.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1131&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/553130/original/file-20231010-19-f56yvi.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1131&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/553130/original/file-20231010-19-f56yvi.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1131&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Copies of the poem were reportedly kept under pillows.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Kate Williams/Seymour Centre and Sport For Jove</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Ryan touts his Venus and Adonis as a "play within a plague”, yet it is more daring and ambitious than a mere adaptation of the poem. Here we have a speculative history play that culminates in Shakespeare (Anthony Gooley) and his actors performing his famous erotic poem before the queen (Belinda Giblin). </p>
<p>Ryan’s company Sport for Jove was initially forced to shoot the play as a film during COVID-19 lockdowns in 2020, so a “play within a plague” seems very apt. </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/friday-essay-50-shades-of-shakespeare-how-the-bard-sexed-things-up-106783">Friday essay: 50 shades of Shakespeare - how the Bard sexed things up</a>
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</em>
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<hr>
<h2>Tragical-comical-historical-pastoral</h2>
<p>With super-dynamic set design and costumes by Damien Ryan and Bernadette Ryan, Venus and Adonis is largely comical, but also tragic; wildly romantic, yet erotic and colourful. </p>
<p>We jump from the rooms of an Elizabethan doctor, who earns his bread-and-butter treating sexually transmitted diseases, to Shakespeare’s bedroom in London and his entanglements with his mistress <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Emilia_Lanier">Aemilia Lanyer</a> (Adele Querol), a proto-feminist poet who became the first English woman to publish her own poetry in her own name in 1611. </p>
<p>Shakespeare helps Lanyer with her quest to publish (at the same time stealing her ideas for his own verse), but tragedy strikes home in Stratford with the loss of Shakespeare’s only son Hamnet. But soon Shakespeare’s company is called to perform his popular poem before the queen.</p>
<p>The editors of the First Folio might ask if this play is a comedy, history or tragedy. Perhaps Ryan would call on Hamlet’s Polonius to declare this play a very fine “<a href="https://www.escholar.manchester.ac.uk/api/datastream?publicationPid=uk-ac-man-scw:1m2846&datastreamId=POST-PEER-REVIEW-PUBLISHERS-DOCUMENT.PDF">tragical-comical-historical-pastoral</a>”.</p>
<p>Ryan’s bawdy realism renders Shakespeare with many endearing quirks: his syphilis, his nakedness, his sexual affairs, his bi-curiosity, his laconic demeanour, his bewilderment at his own abilities, and the neglect of his family in Stratford. </p>
<p>But Ryan also consciously aims to liberate three women who influenced Shakespeare, often eclipsed by the shadow of Shakespeare’s monolithic achievements. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/553131/original/file-20231010-23-nu08z9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="People sit around on a stage." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/553131/original/file-20231010-23-nu08z9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/553131/original/file-20231010-23-nu08z9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/553131/original/file-20231010-23-nu08z9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/553131/original/file-20231010-23-nu08z9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/553131/original/file-20231010-23-nu08z9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/553131/original/file-20231010-23-nu08z9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/553131/original/file-20231010-23-nu08z9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Ryan consciously aims to liberate three women who influenced Shakespeare.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Kate Williams/Seymour Centre and Sport For Jove</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Clearly attracted to verse, Aemilia Lanyer is construed as the “<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dark_Lady_(Shakespeare)">Dark Lady</a>” mistress of Shakespeare’s sonnets, and Querol drives the energy of the play to become its co-protagonist.</p>
<p>Bernadette Ryan plays a searing <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anne_Hathaway_(wife_of_Shakespeare)">Agnes Hathaway</a>, Shakespeare’s neglected wife, too jaded by his absence to relish the sweetness of their romantic youth. </p>
<p>Giblin’s Queen Elizabeth is a cantankerous, yet savvy, f-Bomb-dropping patron of the arts. In one breath she pontificates as an elderly virgin queen; in the next she orders two athletic performers to her bedroom.</p>
<h2>A vivid telling</h2>
<p>The second act, concerning the rehearsal and performance of Shakespeare’s poem before the queen, rollicks forward like a rollercoaster that has, until then, climbed incrementally through the first act. </p>
<p>The second half intertwines multiple strands of drama and intrigue. The queen sits amid the audience and comments on the action (hilariously) in ways we wouldn’t dare. Her attending ladies swoon for handsome Adonis, who wishes he was Venus kissing the boys. </p>
<p>The performance goes off the rails, but the poetry shines, and the queen compares it to the brilliant work of a female poet she has just read – not realising the poet, Lanyer, has been playing Venus. Then enters the ghost of young Hamnet…</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/553129/original/file-20231010-25-ivx64a.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Production image" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/553129/original/file-20231010-25-ivx64a.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/553129/original/file-20231010-25-ivx64a.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/553129/original/file-20231010-25-ivx64a.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/553129/original/file-20231010-25-ivx64a.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/553129/original/file-20231010-25-ivx64a.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/553129/original/file-20231010-25-ivx64a.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/553129/original/file-20231010-25-ivx64a.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The play culminates in a performance of Shakespeare’s poem.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Kate Williams/Seymour Centre and Sport For Jove</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The action is admirably supported by Shakespeare’s leading man, <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Richard_Burbage">Richard Burbage</a> (Christopher Tomkinson), his leading clown <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Robert_Armin">Robert Armin</a> (Kevin MacIsaac) and Shakespeare’s grown up “boy player” <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nathan_Field">Nathaniel Field</a> (Jerome Meyer), utterly appalled he must play the male Adonis instead of Venus. </p>
<p>Ryan capably navigates the diverse space of the cross-dressing rehearsal room and the queered space of poetic patronage and sonnet sequence circulation. </p>
<p>If Polonius never quite envisioned what he meant by a “tragical-comical-historical-pastoral”, Ryan’s Venus and Adonis delivers this hybrid form vividly in spades.</p>
<p><em>Venus and Adonis from Sport for Jove is at the Seymour Centre, Sydney, until October 21.</em></p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/hamlet-a-play-that-speaks-to-pandemics-past-and-present-165106">Hamlet: a play that speaks to pandemics past and present</a>
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</em>
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<img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/212705/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Kirk Dodd does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>This new work from Sport for Jove is more daring and ambitious than a mere adaptation of Shakespeare’s poem.Kirk Dodd, Lecturer in English and Writing, University of SydneyLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/2143672023-10-03T04:36:46Z2023-10-03T04:36:46ZMy Sister Jill: Patricia Cornelius’ new play is a blistering post-war social and cultural commentary<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/551612/original/file-20231003-22-sjuwc0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=12%2C6%2C4236%2C2816&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Sarah Walker/MTC</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Emerging from one of Australia’s most enduring and significant theatrical partnerships between director Susie Dee and playwright Patricia Cornelius, My Sister Jill is a contemporary homage to George Johnston’s classic 1964 Australian novel My Brother Jack. </p>
<p>Both these works are set in post-war suburban Australia in the 1960s. But instead of the longing for the classic values of an older Australia that valorise war heroism and stoic masculinity, My Sister Jill centres the perspectives of those impacted by this narrative. </p>
<p>Parents Jack (Ian Bliss), a war veteran and prisoner of war from Changi on the Thai-Burma railway, and Martha (Maude Davey) have five children. Jill (Lucy Goleby), the eldest daughter, is intelligent and fierce. Johnnie (James O'Connell) frequently experiences his father’s violent ire as he is deemed “soft”. Door (Benjamin Nichol) and Mouse (Zachary Pidd) are twin brothers with mental telepathy and a joyful desire to be physically close at all times. </p>
<p>Christine (Angourie Rice), the youngest, plays the narrator. She seeks to connect with and understand her father through his stories of the horrors of war, sometimes biting off more than she can chew when the tales become deeply bleak and disturbing. </p>
<p>In a blistering post-war social and cultural commentary, My Sister Jill disrupts ideas of colonial glory with a troubling depiction of family violence, PTSD, homophobia and the ruinous intergenerational impacts of patriarchal oppression on everyone.</p>
<h2>The volatility of trauma</h2>
<p>The show is set in and around the family’s weatherboard home, and the set design by Marg Horwell features a beautifully restored 1953 FX Holden on stage. </p>
<p>It is a pared back, familiar landscape of dry yellow light, lino tiles, fading wallpaper and porch chairs, and the site of a cultural identity permeated by patriarchal violence from the perspective of White Australian culture. </p>
<p>As the story progresses, the children grow up under the volatility of their father’s trauma. They are frustrated by their mother’s fear and inaction. We witness Jack’s anger and violence toward his wife and children, his alcoholism and failure to hold down a job, his nightmarish memories and the anti-therapeutic 1960s attitude towards mental health. In one scene we watch Martha diligently “change the subject” to bring Jack back from the emotional edge as his memories of war threaten to overwhelm him. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/551613/original/file-20231003-26-eqmv5e.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A weatherboard house." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/551613/original/file-20231003-26-eqmv5e.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/551613/original/file-20231003-26-eqmv5e.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=399&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/551613/original/file-20231003-26-eqmv5e.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=399&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/551613/original/file-20231003-26-eqmv5e.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=399&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/551613/original/file-20231003-26-eqmv5e.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=502&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/551613/original/file-20231003-26-eqmv5e.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=502&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/551613/original/file-20231003-26-eqmv5e.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=502&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The set is a pared back, familiar landscape.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Sarah Walker/MTC</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Jack’s story about surviving a torpedoing of a Japanese freighter by clinging to a raft while covered in thick black oil is taken from aspects of Cornelius’ own father’s life. The harrowing details of this particular scene as Jack recalls this moment of survival to Christine are profound and unsettling. </p>
<p>On stage, Christine is deeply impacted by this story, its retelling taking her into an imagined reality too frightening to contemplate. War is hell, the play reminds us, an indiscriminate false moral vacuum full of deep harm. Any notion of national pride that persists constitutes a dangerous narrative that whitewashes the violence of colonisation in our own backyards and homes. </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/from-shell-shock-to-ptsd-proof-of-wars-traumatic-history-37858">From shell shock to PTSD: proof of war's traumatic history</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>Idealism and false promise</h2>
<p>Throughout the play, Jill emerges as a resistor to her father, incapable of holding back her fury at his behaviour. </p>
<p>Jill carefully looks after Johnnie when he returns to bed with urine-soaked pyjamas after being beaten. We see her refusing to wait inside the freezing cold FX Holden with the others when Jack leaves his family for hours outside the pub. Ultimately Jill is unable to “cut her father some slack”, as her mother suggests. She continually confronts her father, is forced to leave school and find work and ultimately moves out of home and becomes an organiser of anti-war demonstrations. </p>
<p>Christine travels from undying support of the wonderful father hero and a desire to head to war herself, to becoming the only child left in the family home. At this point, as she describes her father yelling at her mother all day long, she begins to echo her sister Jill’s intolerance of her dad and we see the full circle impact of intergenerational trauma. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/551614/original/file-20231003-21-zqq5eo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="The family look out as if watching television." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/551614/original/file-20231003-21-zqq5eo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/551614/original/file-20231003-21-zqq5eo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=399&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/551614/original/file-20231003-21-zqq5eo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=399&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/551614/original/file-20231003-21-zqq5eo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=399&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/551614/original/file-20231003-21-zqq5eo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=502&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/551614/original/file-20231003-21-zqq5eo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=502&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/551614/original/file-20231003-21-zqq5eo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=502&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">We see the full circle impact of intergenerational trauma.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Sarah Walker/MTC</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Christine reunites with Jill as a young adult, about to head to university, the first of the family to attend. Jill is proud of her, and promises she, too, will attend university one day. We are reminded of what has been lost for Jill. Christine speaks to the audience one of the last lines in the play “She will, won’t she, My Sister Jill? She will. Will she?” </p>
<p>Wrapped up in this moment is the idealism and false promise of the late 1960s Australia. </p>
<p>My Sister Jill raises the spectre of the question about what has changed in Australian culture since that time and what harmful narratives we continue to deny – or are we now able to collectively address? </p>
<p>One can only hope the answer to Christine’s question “will she?” is, like the answer to other questions aimed at addressing the ongoing impact of colonial violence on our national culture, a huge resounding yes.</p>
<p><em>My Sister Jill is at the Melbourne Theatre Company until October 28.</em></p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/more-than-half-of-australians-will-experience-trauma-most-before-they-turn-17-we-need-to-talk-about-it-159801">More than half of Australians will experience trauma, most before they turn 17. We need to talk about it</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/214367/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Sarah Austin does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>My Sister Jill disrupts ideas of colonial glory with a troubling depiction of family violence, PTSD, homophobia and the ruinous intergenerational impacts of patriarchal oppression on everyone.Sarah Austin, Lecturer in Theatre, The University of MelbourneLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/2145522023-09-28T05:05:12Z2023-09-28T05:05:12ZA journey of discovery and identity formation: The Dictionary of Lost Words makes its wonderful stage debut<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/550806/original/file-20230928-23-jx07r1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=0%2C17%2C5855%2C3880&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Sam Roberts/State Theatre Company of South Australia</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>The Dictionary of Lost Words follows Esme as she navigates the patriarchal world of Victorian England. While her father and colleagues construct the Oxford English Dictionary, Esme begins to form her own dictionary – particularly the words spoken by women and the working class who have been excluded. </p>
<p>Along the way she is buffeted by the seismic events of the early 20th century in the suffrage movement and the first world war.</p>
<p>Verity Laughton’s stage adaptation of Pip Williams’ <a href="https://theconversation.com/book-review-the-dictionary-of-lost-words-by-pip-williams-132503">best-selling book</a> is a wonderful work.</p>
<p>We are introduced to a crusty world of dedicated male lexicologists who are gathered together in the shed, or “scriptorium”, of <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/James_Murray_(lexicographer)">Sir James Murray</a>, played with erudite Scottish enunciation by Chris Pitman. They valiantly set out to construct volumes of meaning for words from the letters of the alphabet – with a hint of empire-building about the enterprise.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/book-review-the-dictionary-of-lost-words-by-pip-williams-132503">Book review: The Dictionary of Lost Words by Pip Williams</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>A brilliant innovation</h2>
<p>Tilda Cobham-Hervey makes a standout return to the stage carrying the central character of Esme. </p>
<p>We first see her as an ingénue child hiding under the large desk of the eminent lexicologists. Her direct address to the audience draws us into her perspective of what is occurring around her. </p>
<p>As she grows, her curiosity about the world deepens while her determination to be her own person strengthens, in spite of the limited opportunities for women. Cobham-Hervey navigates this journey of discovery and identity formation with a surety of purpose and endows Esme with a passion for words and their meaning.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/550805/original/file-20230928-21-i32lbl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=30%2C0%2C6761%2C4521&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A woman reads a letter" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/550805/original/file-20230928-21-i32lbl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=30%2C0%2C6761%2C4521&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/550805/original/file-20230928-21-i32lbl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/550805/original/file-20230928-21-i32lbl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/550805/original/file-20230928-21-i32lbl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/550805/original/file-20230928-21-i32lbl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/550805/original/file-20230928-21-i32lbl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/550805/original/file-20230928-21-i32lbl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Tilda Cobham-Hervey makes a standout return to the stage.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Sam Roberts/State Theatre Company of South Australia</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>In a brilliant innovation from designer Jonathon Oxlade we see words handwritten and projected from a camera hidden within a lamp above the central desk. This also enables the cast to indicate the location and the passing of time at the beginning of each scene – always a challenge when moving across the many scenes a novel brings. Postcards from locations are projected on a curved back-screen that echoes the diorama and magic lantern popular at the time. </p>
<p>Below the screen are immense rows of pigeonholes where the slips of paper containing word meanings are filed. In a neat twist, these pigeonholes become letterboxes as Esme distributes pamphlets for the women’s movement when she is converted to the cause by the suffragette Tilda, given appropriate boldness by Angela Mahlatjie.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/550808/original/file-20230928-19-rssir2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Projected postcards above blue-lit pigeonholes." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/550808/original/file-20230928-19-rssir2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/550808/original/file-20230928-19-rssir2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/550808/original/file-20230928-19-rssir2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/550808/original/file-20230928-19-rssir2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/550808/original/file-20230928-19-rssir2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/550808/original/file-20230928-19-rssir2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/550808/original/file-20230928-19-rssir2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Jonathon Oxlade’s set echoes the diorama and magic lantern popular at the time.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Sam Roberts/State Theatre Company of South Australia</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Lighting designer Trent Suidgeest sweeps diverse colours across the pigeonholes, also lit within, with the various hues accompanying the emotional arc of the play. </p>
<p>Composer Max Lyandvert adds fine and sensitive nuances to his score, which heightens the total theatre nature of the experience. A stylised version of Auld Lang Syne becomes a motif for the passing of those close to Esme, notably her father Harry, given dignity and depth by Brett Archer.</p>
<h2>A beautiful realisation</h2>
<p>Director Jessica Arthur handles the cast and use of video well. An inspired touch is having the ensemble move slowly behind key monologues and duologues, adding intricate detail. When Esme gives birth we see her mouth magnified by the live camera, in a close-up that amplifies the intensity of the birth.</p>
<p>Cobham-Hervey is supported by a fine ensemble who succinctly double up as required in Laughton’s economy of writing. Rachel Burke brings dynamism to Lizzie Lester, Esme’s “bondmaid”. Ksenja Logos doubles well between Esme’s supportive aunt and the rowdy and endearing market stallholder Mabel. </p>
<p>The market scene is one of the triumphs for the ensemble as it bustles with liveliness. The audience explodes with laughter as Esme discovers swear words though the indomitable Mabel. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/550807/original/file-20230928-19-p2hdkn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A woman in a shawl and rags." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/550807/original/file-20230928-19-p2hdkn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/550807/original/file-20230928-19-p2hdkn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/550807/original/file-20230928-19-p2hdkn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/550807/original/file-20230928-19-p2hdkn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/550807/original/file-20230928-19-p2hdkn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/550807/original/file-20230928-19-p2hdkn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/550807/original/file-20230928-19-p2hdkn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Ksenja Logos plays the rowdy and endearing market stallholder Mabel.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Sam Roberts/State Theatre Company of South Australia</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>In the quieter second half, Raj Labade brings a warmth to Gareth, Esme’s suitor. Esme must first confess her dalliance with a former lover, Bill Taylor, played by Anthony Yangoyan with rakish charm. This is brilliantly shown by the ensemble as a flashback, where Esme has to make the agonising choice between keeping her illegitimate child, with the social consequences of the time, or giving her child away, with the accompanying grief that would follow. </p>
<p>As with Williams’ book, the play ends with an abrupt shift to 1989 and to Esme’s long-lost daughter who begins a speech with the Kaurna welcome “Niina marni”.</p>
<p>Williams’ intention is to highlight that the struggle for inclusivity continues, in particular for Indigenous languages. However, having spent so long with Esme, this feels like a rupture within the narrative – which indeed may be the purpose. </p>
<p>“Realised” might be defined as to give shape to an artform. This is a very clever realisation of Williams’ novel for the stage and gives great power to key moments of this epic story.</p>
<p><em>The Dictionary of Lost Words is at the State Theatre Company of South Australia until October 14, then at the Sydney Theatre Company from October 26 to December 16.</em></p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/pip-williams-shows-how-world-war-i-transformed-womens-lives-in-a-new-novel-that-captures-the-poetic-materiality-of-books-199416">Pip Williams shows how World War I transformed women's lives, in a new novel that captures the 'poetic materiality' of books</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/214552/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Russell Fewster has worked with State Theatre Company of South Australia in co-ordinating the second year course State Theatre Masterclass at the University of South Australia.</span></em></p>Verity Laughton’s stage adaptation of Pip Williams’ best-selling book is a a very clever realisation.Russell Fewster, Lecturer in Performing Arts, University of South AustraliaLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/2119062023-09-11T03:18:33Z2023-09-11T03:18:33ZSydney Theatre Company’s new The Importance of Being Earnest: fresh, funny and completely joyous<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/547377/original/file-20230911-23-ritc0j.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=0%2C0%2C3233%2C2157&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Daniel Boud/Sydney Theatre Company</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>It is easy to forget that when Oscar Wilde’s The Importance of Being Earnest was first written and performed in February 1895, Ibsen’s <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A_Doll%27s_House">A Doll’s House</a> was already 16 years old. Both plays, in different ways, expose the foundations of society (marriage; class; money; property) to searching critique. </p>
<p>Ibsen’s proto-modernism looks forward to a new century of realist scrutiny, as Nora slams the door on convention at the end of his play. But Wilde’s play looks backwards to older comedies of manners and aims for a similar effect by blowing their old, moral assumptions wide apart. </p>
<p>The Importance of Being Earnest is no less radical than A Doll’s House, but it is much more difficult to translate onto the 21st century stage without preserving it in aspic. Director Sarah Giles pulls the trick off with this new Sydney Theatre Company production. </p>
<p>It is fresh, funny and completely joyous. Wilde’s extraordinary script is delivered with sharp wit by an extraordinary cast and placed within a production that exploits the dialogue for its viciously comic potential.</p>
<h2>The price of privilege</h2>
<p>In one of very few changes, Giles has slightly expanded the roles of the servants in the play. In doing so, she has afforded us the pleasure of some beautifully comic moments from Sean O'Shea as Algie’s butler, Lane, and Gareth Davies as Merriman, servant to Jack. </p>
<p>More than this, however, the main action of the play now sits a little more uneasily alongside our awareness of the price of privilege. We are now conscious of the labour that has gone into the cucumber sandwiches and muffins, elsewhere launched as social weapons in the “Morning Rooms” and manicured gardens.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/547378/original/file-20230911-23-andzop.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Production image: servants in a kitchen." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/547378/original/file-20230911-23-andzop.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/547378/original/file-20230911-23-andzop.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/547378/original/file-20230911-23-andzop.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/547378/original/file-20230911-23-andzop.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/547378/original/file-20230911-23-andzop.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/547378/original/file-20230911-23-andzop.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/547378/original/file-20230911-23-andzop.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">We are now conscious of the labour that has gone into the cucumber sandwiches.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Daniel Boud/Sydney Theatre Company</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Helen Thomson’s Lady Bracknell is as brilliant as you’d expect from the phrase, “Helen Thomson’s Lady Bracknell”: imperious, monstrous, and utterly hilarious. </p>
<p>Some genuinely scene-stealing performances come from Megan Wilding as an exceptionally funny Gwendolen and Brandon McClelland as an exuberantly bumbling Jack. Charles Wu manifests Algie, the closest thing to Wilde’s voice in the play, with an elegantly light touch. Melissa Kahraman contributes an energetic and animated Cecily. </p>
<p>This latter performance, together with Wilding’s as Gwendolen, ensure the central act of the play is just as much a hire-wire act as the opening and closing. The middle part of the play focuses mainly on the female characters. When there is not enough attention paid to the casting and performance of Gwendolen and Cecily, it can drag a little. Not here, where their conversation over tea and cake becomes a battleground of wit and barely concealed violence.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/547379/original/file-20230911-15-nvxokm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Production image: a young woman is served high tea." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/547379/original/file-20230911-15-nvxokm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/547379/original/file-20230911-15-nvxokm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/547379/original/file-20230911-15-nvxokm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/547379/original/file-20230911-15-nvxokm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/547379/original/file-20230911-15-nvxokm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/547379/original/file-20230911-15-nvxokm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/547379/original/file-20230911-15-nvxokm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Melissa Kahraman contributes an energetic and animated Cecily.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Daniel Boud/Sydney Theatre Company</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>The fascinating liar</h2>
<p>At the centre of Wilde’s play is, famously, “a handbag”. </p>
<p>Previous comedies of manners, such as Sheridan’s <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_School_for_Scandal">The School for Scandal</a>, and even Wilde’s own earlier play, <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A_Woman_of_No_Importance">A Woman of No Importance</a>, always had secrets at the heart of them. Revealing those secrets confirmed society’s moral codes. The School for Scandal even has an adulterous woman hiding behind a screen for much of the action of the play. Her discovery leads to confessions of guilt, repentance and reconciliation. </p>
<p>Wilde’s genius lies in completely overturning the assumptions behind this comic structure while still using its recognisable format. In place of sin, we have a momentary lapse of concentration from a nanny and a misplaced piece of luggage. </p>
<p>Wilde is looking backwards and taking aim at the traditions that have produced his own society as hypocritical. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/547380/original/file-20230911-15-dz1oto.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Production image: Helen Thomson in a pink dress." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/547380/original/file-20230911-15-dz1oto.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/547380/original/file-20230911-15-dz1oto.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/547380/original/file-20230911-15-dz1oto.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/547380/original/file-20230911-15-dz1oto.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/547380/original/file-20230911-15-dz1oto.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/547380/original/file-20230911-15-dz1oto.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/547380/original/file-20230911-15-dz1oto.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Helen Thomson’s Lady Bracknell is as brilliant as you’d expect.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Daniel Boud/Sydney Theatre Company</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>In some of his other writing, he explained how this overturning of “truth-telling” could bring about a social and artistic revolution. His brilliant essay, <a href="http://virgil.org/dswo/courses/novel/wilde-lying.pdf">The Decay of Lying</a>, written four years before Earnest, lays out an improbable plan for the future: </p>
<blockquote>
<p>Bored by the tedious and improving conversation of those who have neither the wit to exaggerate nor the genius to romance […] Society sooner or later must return to its lost leader, the cultured and fascinating liar. </p>
</blockquote>
<p>As with society, so with Art which:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>breaking from the prison-house of realism, will run to greet him, and will kiss his false, beautiful lips, knowing that he alone is in possession of the great secret of all her manifestations, the secret that Truth is entirely and absolutely a matter of style. </p>
</blockquote>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/friday-essay-in-defence-of-beauty-in-art-89921">Friday essay: in defence of beauty in art</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>Absurd fragility</h2>
<p>In making us slightly more aware of the social “truths” behind Victorian leisure, this production might have run the risk of undermining Wilde’s revolutionary celebration of the cultured and beautiful lie. What it pulls off, instead, is the Wildean effect of revelling in the pleasures of life’s surfaces while still being uncomfortably aware of their absurd fragility.</p>
<p>When the play made its way into print in 1899, four years after a triumphant London run, it did not have Wilde’s name attached to it. Wilde was in exile in Paris, his health destroyed by the two years of penal servitude he was <a href="https://www.history.com/topics/gay-rights/oscar-wilde-trial">sentenced</a> to for having sex with men. </p>
<p>This high-profile court case heralded a wave of legal homophobia that echoed through the 20th century. He died in 1900, with his (and our) futures crushed by a society over-keen on telling its own “truths”. </p>
<p>Go to this production and stay for its final moments in which one utterly charming piece of stage business hardly redresses the balance of the century of paranoid homophobia following Wilde’s arrest and imprisonment. But it does a very good job of laughing in its face.</p>
<p><em>The Importance of Being Earnest is at the Sydney Theatre Company until October 14.</em></p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/on-sexuality-the-law-still-caters-to-the-norms-of-public-disgust-79705">On sexuality, the law still caters to the norms of public disgust</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/211906/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Huw Griffiths does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>Oscar Wilde’s extraordinary script is delivered with sharp wit by an extraordinary cast and placed within a production that exploits the dialogue for its viciously comic potential.Huw Griffiths, Associate Professor of English Literature, University of SydneyLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/2129652023-09-06T04:49:15Z2023-09-06T04:49:15Z‘An extremely serious musical comedy’ about Whitlam? Yes. The Dismissal is great fun, witty and sharply observed<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/546604/original/file-20230906-29-ehd2xt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=0%2C0%2C5078%2C3388&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Squabbalogic/David Hooley</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>The Whitlam government has a mythical status in the Australian popular imagination. While it lasted less than two full terms between December 1972 and November 1975, it has had an outsized cultural presence ever since. </p>
<p>This is not just because of Gough Whitlam’s transformative social democratic agenda, but because of the way his government ended: <a href="https://theconversation.com/australian-politics-explainer-gough-whitlams-dismissal-as-prime-minister-74148">the dismissal</a> remains one of the most shocking events in Australian political history. </p>
<p>Each year since, we have marked the anniversary with new stories, new angles, new details. The story has all the ingredients of high drama – indeed, the story was told in a rather ponderous television <a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0085006/">mini-series</a> in 1983. </p>
<p>So almost 50 years on, what to make of a comedic musical retelling of these tumultuous events? </p>
<p>The Dismissal’s talented creators (Jay James-Moody, Blake Erickson and Laura Murphy) are neither Boomers who watched the dismissal from ringside seats or dewy-eyed Gen-Xers, but younger still. </p>
<p>For their generation, forged in a neoliberal world much harsher than the one that lifted up their parents and grandparents, the Whitlam policy agenda of free education, free healthcare and social democracy for all might seem like a distant, unattainable dream. </p>
<p>Crucially, the authors also don’t see the dismissal as a unique event. In their program notes, they argue the show is</p>
<blockquote>
<p>the story of our political culture writ in bold, sung in harmony and danced in formation. Over, and over again. </p>
</blockquote>
<p>So this show is not just a dramatisation of the events of 1975, it is also an attempt to understand our maddening political culture.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/australian-politics-explainer-gough-whitlams-dismissal-as-prime-minister-74148">Australian politics explainer: Gough Whitlam's dismissal as prime minister</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>Self-referential and extremely funny</h2>
<p>Norman Gunston (a superb Matthew Whittet) guides the audience through the story and sets the tone for the show. We begin with the famous moment on the Parliament House steps. Playing Gough, Justin Smith both sounds and looks like him – no mean feat. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/546600/original/file-20230906-23-tdebva.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/546600/original/file-20230906-23-tdebva.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/546600/original/file-20230906-23-tdebva.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/546600/original/file-20230906-23-tdebva.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/546600/original/file-20230906-23-tdebva.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/546600/original/file-20230906-23-tdebva.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/546600/original/file-20230906-23-tdebva.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/546600/original/file-20230906-23-tdebva.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Matthew Whittet is superb as Norman Gunston.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Squabbalogic/David Hooley</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The Dismissal is least effective when it is striving for sincerity: the early number Maintain your Rage left me concerned the show might be too earnest to be genuinely funny. </p>
<p>However, my anxieties were assuaged by a very clever romp through the post-war years of Liberal rule (from Menzies to Holt to Gorton to McMahon), sung by suburban housewives and their lawn-mowing husbands. It is self-referential and extremely funny and sets a high bar for the rest of the show. Murphy’s lyrics are wonderful throughout, but they are especially brilliant here. </p>
<p>After Whitlam’s election, his policy achievements are dealt with in a rapid-fire slideshow, which moves things along but lowers the stakes in what follows. The real subject of the drama is the unravelling of the Whitlam government from within, thanks to the shenanigans of Jim Cairns, Rex Connor and <a href="https://www.theage.com.au/national/how-the-loans-scandal-became-an-affair-to-remember-20050101-gdzadn.html">the loans affair</a>, and the role played by Sir John Kerr, Malcolm Fraser and Sir Garfield Barwick in undermining him from the outside.</p>
<p>The cast are uniformly excellent. Peter Carroll is uproarious as a Mephistophelian Sir Garfield Barwick. Octavia Barron Martin manages to invest Sir John Kerr with a touch of pathos. Monique Sallé is a showstopping Tirath Khemlani, a befuddled Billy Snedden and her Queen Elizabeth II has more than a touch of Rocky Horror about her. Joe Kosky’s Jim Cairns is both pompous and ponderous, with brilliant comic timing. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/546602/original/file-20230906-27-a4o8yh.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/546602/original/file-20230906-27-a4o8yh.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/546602/original/file-20230906-27-a4o8yh.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/546602/original/file-20230906-27-a4o8yh.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/546602/original/file-20230906-27-a4o8yh.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/546602/original/file-20230906-27-a4o8yh.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/546602/original/file-20230906-27-a4o8yh.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/546602/original/file-20230906-27-a4o8yh.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Octavia Barron Martin invests Sir John Kerr with a touch of pathos and Peter Carroll is uproarious as Sir Garfield Barwick.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Squabbalogic/David Hooley</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Andrew Cutcliffe’s Malcolm Fraser is stiletto-sharp and a little bit kinky. His Private School Boys is a bump-and-grind showstopper that recalls Alexander Downer’s <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6CjCE0IsNWw">Freaky</a> from Casey Benetto’s 2005 musical Keating! </p>
<p>The song is reprised later by Lady Anne Kerr, whose purring refrain that “you’re not a match for private school girls” is a reminder that this is a story of class, mobility and social striving. </p>
<h2>Sharp, funny and astute</h2>
<p>The show’s gender-inclusive casting draws our attention to the almost all-male world of politics in the 1970s and gives many of the female performers the opportunity to behave disgracefully (Georgie Bolton as Rex Connor is spectacularly, hilariously crude). </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/546601/original/file-20230906-19-uzltpe.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/546601/original/file-20230906-19-uzltpe.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/546601/original/file-20230906-19-uzltpe.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/546601/original/file-20230906-19-uzltpe.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/546601/original/file-20230906-19-uzltpe.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/546601/original/file-20230906-19-uzltpe.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/546601/original/file-20230906-19-uzltpe.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/546601/original/file-20230906-19-uzltpe.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Georgie Bolton as Rex Connor is spectacularly, hilariously crude.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Squabbalogic/David Hooley</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Margaret Whitlam (Brittanie Shipway) and Junie Morosi (Shannen Alyce Quan) are voices of reason and resolve. While both are terrific, their roles in the narrative constrain their range: Margaret’s number Crash Through or Crash is an example of the ways the sincere songs don’t have the power to hold an audience in the ways that the satirical numbers do. Stacey Thomsett has much more fun with the role of Lady Kerr, who she depicts as Lady Macbeth in a Carla Zampatti suit.</p>
<p>It’s all great fun, witty and sharply observed. Yet perhaps the weakest part of the show is the ending. While we all know how this story ended, the creators didn’t seem to know how to draw their story to a close. </p>
<p>But overall, The Dismissal is sharp, funny and astute. It’s also a rare thing: an accomplished new Australian musical. I think Gough himself, with his love of Australian arts and culture, would have quite enjoyed it. </p>
<p><em>The Dismissal: An Extremely Serious Musical Comedy is at the Seymour Centre, Sydney, until October 21.</em></p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/where-are-the-new-australian-musicals-waiting-in-the-wings-79831">Where are the new Australian musicals? Waiting in the wings</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/212965/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Michelle Arrow receives funding from the Australian Research Council. She is currently a Fellow at the Whitlam Institute.</span></em></p>This new comedic musical is not just a dramatisation of the events of 1975, it is also an attempt to understand our maddening political culture.Michelle Arrow, Professor of History, Macquarie UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/2083662023-07-24T01:08:00Z2023-07-24T01:08:00ZI can’t imagine anybody would come out of On The Beach and not hold their loved ones just that little bit closer<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/538855/original/file-20230724-180959-7r5urp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=4%2C0%2C3223%2C2157&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Daniel Boud/Sydney Theatre Company</span></span></figcaption></figure><p><em>Review: On The Beach, directed by Kip Williams.</em></p>
<p>When Nevil Shute wrote his 1957 novel <a href="https://theconversation.com/this-is-the-way-the-world-ends-nevil-shutes-on-the-beach-warned-us-of-nuclear-annihilation-its-still-a-hot-button-issue-209243">On the Beach</a>, the world was emerging from the devastation of the second world war to confront new fears. </p>
<p>Shute imagines a not-too-distant future in which a short nuclear war has destroyed life on much of the planet. It has left Australia briefly isolated, with the radioactive cloud slowly advancing towards its beaches. The characters in the novel are waiting out their inevitable deaths. </p>
<p>To adapt this novel in 2023 is to consider our own lives in parallel, as we walk bleary-eyed from the pandemic into a future of escalating global conflict and climate crisis. </p>
<p>Shute’s novel chillingly emphasises the persistence of a kind of stoic duty as an affirmation of the human in the face of overwhelming death. But playwright Tommy Murphy and director Kip Williams have produced something both more poignant and more life-affirming from the dry bones of the original.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/this-is-the-way-the-world-ends-nevil-shutes-on-the-beach-warned-us-of-nuclear-annihilation-its-still-a-hot-button-issue-209243">'This is the way the world ends': Nevil Shute's On the Beach warned us of nuclear annihilation. It's still a hot-button issue</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>Passion for life</h2>
<p>In the first half of this new play for the Sydney Theatre Company, Murphy is able to excavate genuine wit and humour from Shute’s turgid prose, allowing us to care that these people make the right choices for themselves. The dialogue is warm and human. And our connection to the characters in the first half provides a platform for the devastating pathos of the second half. </p>
<p>I can’t have been the only person hopelessly failing to hold back tears as the <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rVN1B-tUpgs">Max Richter soundtrack</a> played behind some astonishingly affecting tableaux in the closing moments of the play. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/538857/original/file-20230724-221265-6lsvxx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Actors backlit on a white stage, appearing as shadows on a beach." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/538857/original/file-20230724-221265-6lsvxx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/538857/original/file-20230724-221265-6lsvxx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/538857/original/file-20230724-221265-6lsvxx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/538857/original/file-20230724-221265-6lsvxx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/538857/original/file-20230724-221265-6lsvxx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/538857/original/file-20230724-221265-6lsvxx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/538857/original/file-20230724-221265-6lsvxx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">This is an Australia isolated from the rest of the world in its dying days.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Daniel Boud/Sydney Theatre Company</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Shute famously thought of writing as a “<a href="https://www.themonthly.com.au/issue/2007/june/1268876839/gideon-haigh/shute-messenger#mtr">pansy occupation</a>”, only deigning to write if the writing had utility. The novel comes as a conservative warning against complacency. </p>
<p>Australia’s sense of its isolation from global conflict is seen as a delusion against which readers are encouraged to reevaluate their commitment to a collective future. His sights are set as much on his country of birth, the United Kingdom, and what he saw as its disastrous turn towards socialism in the post-war period as they are on the naive utopianism he found in Australia, his adopted country.</p>
<p>In this 2023 adaptation, however, the story is invested with a sensual passion for life that moves well beyond Shute’s stern warnings and instead provides a celebration of sex, love, desire and embodied, animal life. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/538858/original/file-20230724-202045-ga2m4f.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A man and a woman embrace." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/538858/original/file-20230724-202045-ga2m4f.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/538858/original/file-20230724-202045-ga2m4f.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/538858/original/file-20230724-202045-ga2m4f.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/538858/original/file-20230724-202045-ga2m4f.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/538858/original/file-20230724-202045-ga2m4f.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/538858/original/file-20230724-202045-ga2m4f.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/538858/original/file-20230724-202045-ga2m4f.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The play is a celebration of sex, love, desire and embodied, animal life.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Daniel Boud/Sydney Theatre Company</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Where Shute’s characters stoically refrain from sex, this production loves the human body and its capabilities. Regrets here are not for lives lived wrongly but for lost futures that both we and the characters can see reaching out in front of us, unattainable. The beauty of men’s bodies is, in particular, constantly held up by the production as a reminder to both characters and audience of life-affirming humanity. </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/6-books-about-the-climate-crisis-that-offer-hope-182668">6 books about the climate crisis that offer hope</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>Fragile lives</h2>
<p>Williams’ direction brilliantly brings out the possibilities of Murphy’s script, and the two local theatre makers are on absolutely top form. </p>
<p>The staging does not contain the complex screen-work of Williams’ recent novelistic adaptations <a href="https://theconversation.com/the-picture-of-dorian-grey-review-eryn-jean-norvill-stuns-in-all-26-roles-150165">Dorian Gray</a> and <a href="https://theconversation.com/a-production-to-satisfy-sydneys-darkest-imaginings-sydney-theatre-companys-strange-case-of-dr-jekyll-and-mr-hyde-185596">Jekyll and Hyde</a>, but it is still disarmingly gorgeous. Lighting from Damien Cooper and set design from Michael Hankin contribute to a cinematic experience that underscores the beauty the production draws out of our fragile lives.</p>
<p>Contessa Treffone gives a stand out performance as Moira, carrying much of the emotional weight of the play. The humour of the first half mostly comes from her warm and empathetic rendition of a young woman determined to drain the last drops from the champagne flute of life. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/538859/original/file-20230724-180396-bvp2rc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A woman on stage." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/538859/original/file-20230724-180396-bvp2rc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/538859/original/file-20230724-180396-bvp2rc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/538859/original/file-20230724-180396-bvp2rc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/538859/original/file-20230724-180396-bvp2rc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/538859/original/file-20230724-180396-bvp2rc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/538859/original/file-20230724-180396-bvp2rc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/538859/original/file-20230724-180396-bvp2rc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Contessa Treffone carries much of the emotional weight of the play.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Daniel Boud/Sydney Theatre Company</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Michelle Lim Davidson as Mary, a mother uncertain what to do with her baby daughter in the face of death, also provides a performance that moves from nimble wit to affecting anguish. Matthew Backer’s scientist, Dr John Osborne, provides some much-needed glue to the scenes set in the submarine that sets out from Melbourne, only to discover a world of lost hopes. </p>
<p>On The Beach is clear-eyed in its pessimistic outlook for our lives. But with rare and important generosity, a sense of inevitable doom is turned into an affirmation of life, love and into a re-commitment to the future. </p>
<p>I can’t imagine anybody would come out of the theatre and not hold their loved ones just that little bit closer. And perhaps they might also take a look around themselves to see all of this beauty we still, perhaps, have time to save. </p>
<p><em>On the Beach is at the Sydney Theatre Company until August 12.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/208366/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Huw Griffiths does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>The Sydney Theatre Company’s adaptation of the book is both more poignant and more life-affirming from the dry bones of the original.Huw Griffiths, Associate Professor of English Literature, University of SydneyLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/2092172023-07-17T05:19:07Z2023-07-17T05:19:07ZThe ominous inevitability of Suzie Miller’s new play Jailbaby: often, our justice system has nothing to do with justice<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/537621/original/file-20230717-29-dx61m2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=17%2C23%2C3976%2C2634&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Clare Hawley/Griffin Theatre Company</span></span></figcaption></figure><p><em>Review: Jailbaby, directed by Andrea James, Griffin Theatre Company</em></p>
<p>Jailbaby – a new play by <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/stage/2023/apr/27/suzie-miller-on-prima-facie-and-her-olivier-win-london-theatre-circles-see-australia-as-the-daggy-cousin">Suzie Miller</a> – takes a steely look at what happens to an 18-year-old when his life collides with a criminal justice system that is bad and getting worse.</p>
<p>Jailbaby follows the phenomenal success of <a href="https://theconversation.com/in-suzie-millers-prima-facie-theatre-finds-a-voice-of-reckoning-on-sexual-assault-and-the-law-117588">Prima Facie</a>, which scrutinised the law’s failure to protect female victims of sexual assault. Following its premiere at Sydney’s Griffin Theatre Company in 2019, Prima Facie had seasons in London and New York, winning best new play at the United Kingdom’s Olivier Awards.</p>
<p>A one-time lawyer with the Aboriginal Legal Service and Shopfront Youth Legal Centre, Miller’s plays venture into dark places few want to confront. </p>
<p>This new play focuses on jail rape, a crime that is <a href="https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/26597645/">understudied, under scrutinised and underreported</a>. It takes place in an environment where seeking help or speaking up has the opposite of the intended effect. </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/in-suzie-millers-prima-facie-theatre-finds-a-voice-of-reckoning-on-sexual-assault-and-the-law-117588">In Suzie Miller's Prima Facie, theatre finds a voice of reckoning on sexual assault and the law</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>A life of struggle</h2>
<p>AJ is a wide-eyed teenager (compellingly played by Anthony Yangoyan). His mother (Lucia Mastrantone) is a recovering drug addict. His violent father disappeared long ago. They live in social housing. They struggle. </p>
<p>AJ has a long record of troubled behaviour, mostly property crimes, which has seen him spend time in juvenile detention. At 18, AJ is highly impressionable – even gullible – and under the thumb of some older, nastier criminals.</p>
<p>When he needs $500 to go on a soccer trip he thinks will transform his life, he chooses the wrong way to get it. </p>
<p>He imagines the “massive smart TV, MacBooks, iPad” he will stuff into a blue IKEA bag “like a Christmas stocking.”</p>
<p>“Ka-ching!” he thinks. </p>
<p>Of course, it doesn’t turn out like that.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/537624/original/file-20230717-228004-8ysmle.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="An actor in a green jumper" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/537624/original/file-20230717-228004-8ysmle.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/537624/original/file-20230717-228004-8ysmle.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/537624/original/file-20230717-228004-8ysmle.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/537624/original/file-20230717-228004-8ysmle.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/537624/original/file-20230717-228004-8ysmle.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/537624/original/file-20230717-228004-8ysmle.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/537624/original/file-20230717-228004-8ysmle.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">AJ is compellingly played by Anthony Yangoyan.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Clare Hawley/Griffin Theatre Company</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Imagined sacred space</h2>
<p>The courtroom of the public imagination is like the last sacred space in a secular society.</p>
<p>It is presided over by judges beyond the reach of criticism. People readily imagine a defendant’s case will be carefully considered; that everybody has a lawyer in a sharp suit who will make eloquent pleas and ask searching questions. </p>
<p>In reality, the lower courts are crowded and chaotic. A duty solicitor quoted in recent research paper <a href="https://www.uts.edu.au/research/law-health-justice/making-change/self-represented-litigants-family-law-proceedings-involving-allegations-about-family-violence">likened the civil courts to a “zoo”</a>. The criminal courts are worse. </p>
<p>Miller’s play rips right through this veil of illusion.</p>
<p>Despite his age, AJ fails to get bail. He is tried remotely via prison video link. The court appears as a tiny square on a computer screen.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/537626/original/file-20230717-207908-f52ks8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A woman with a manilla folder." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/537626/original/file-20230717-207908-f52ks8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/537626/original/file-20230717-207908-f52ks8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/537626/original/file-20230717-207908-f52ks8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/537626/original/file-20230717-207908-f52ks8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/537626/original/file-20230717-207908-f52ks8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/537626/original/file-20230717-207908-f52ks8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/537626/original/file-20230717-207908-f52ks8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">People readily imagine a defendant’s case will be carefully considered. In reality, the lower courts are crowded and chaotic.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Clare Hawley/Griffin Theatre Company</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>AJ’s lawyer (Mastrantone) tries. But she is already disassociating herself from what she knows will happen. Perhaps this is just the way that lawyers cope. </p>
<p>AJ still thinks, by some miracle, he’ll get off with a warning. His mind is on his upcoming football training session. He doesn’t think the court will take away his big chance to change his life. But, of course, they do. </p>
<p>And in jail, AJ loses everything.</p>
<h2>Incarceration in Australia</h2>
<p>The back cover of the <a href="https://www.currency.com.au/books/drama/jailbaby/">published script</a> says the play pinpoints “the exact moment when it all goes so, so wrong” for AJ. </p>
<p>But that moment happened long before he took the jersey or the iPhone. It happened long before AJ was born, when politicians decided locking up more – and younger – people made them popular. </p>
<p>Even as the rate of offending in Australia <a href="https://www.google.com.au/books/edition/The_Vanishing_Criminal/RXgeEAAAQBAJ?hl=en&gbpv=0">has dropped</a>, the prison rate has <a href="https://theconversation.com/australias-prison-rates-are-up-but-crime-is-down-whats-going-on-170210">steadily climbed</a>.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/australias-prison-rates-are-up-but-crime-is-down-whats-going-on-170210">Australia's prison rates are up but crime is down. What's going on?</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>Australia incarcerates <a href="https://www.prisonstudies.org/highest-to-lowest/prison_population_rate?field_region_taxonomy_tid=All">a greater percentage of its population</a> than China, Guatemala or the United Kingdom. The United States leads the world in per capita incarceration, but Australia has more people incarcerated <a href="https://www.prisonstudies.org/highest-to-lowest/pre-trial-detainees?field_region_taxonomy_tid=All">who have not been tried</a> or sentenced. </p>
<p>Children <a href="https://thediplomat.com/2023/01/the-fight-to-raise-australias-age-of-criminal-responsibility/">as young as ten are incarcerated</a> in some Australian jurisdictions. </p>
<p>Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people are the <a href="https://www.blackincbooks.com.au/books/black-lives-white-law">most incarcerated people in the world</a>.</p>
<p>Australian jails are brutalising. They ought to be a measure of last resort. But young people can be sent to jail simply because there are few <a href="https://apo.org.au/node/116631">diversionary programs</a> in regional, remote or rural areas, or because rehabilitation programs may be full.</p>
<p>And it happens in the dark, because newspapers <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/media/greenslade/2016/oct/28/new-studies-suggest-continuing-decrease-in-court-reporting">seldom cover the lower courts</a>, unless a celebrity is on trial.</p>
<p>Lower court judgements are rarely published. On busy days, if you blink, you will miss it.</p>
<p>Some lawyers argue this protects the “privacy” of the accused. But when an 18-year-old like AJ is sent to adult jail, that kid has a lot more than “privacy” to worry about.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/the-social-determinants-of-justice-8-factors-that-increase-your-risk-of-imprisonment-203661">The social determinants of justice: 8 factors that increase your risk of imprisonment</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>Ominous inevitability</h2>
<p>Jailbaby is a high impact theatrical work. It contains graphic descriptions of sexual assault by straight men against younger male prisoners. The level of detail written into these descriptions is risky, but this raw brutality is the play’s strength.</p>
<p>Like a lawyer explaining legal proceedings to a client in the courtroom, Miller tells the audience what is likely to happen to AJ at every stage. This foreknowledge is horrifying, because it makes the audience complicit in the action as it unfolds.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/537625/original/file-20230717-210338-93bviy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A police line-up." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/537625/original/file-20230717-210338-93bviy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/537625/original/file-20230717-210338-93bviy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/537625/original/file-20230717-210338-93bviy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/537625/original/file-20230717-210338-93bviy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/537625/original/file-20230717-210338-93bviy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/537625/original/file-20230717-210338-93bviy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/537625/original/file-20230717-210338-93bviy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Three actors share 14 roles.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Clare Hawley/Griffin Theatre Company</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Yet, ultimately it doesn’t quite come together. One of the story strands is underdeveloped, and the middle-class characters (whose home AJ burgles) often feel like uncomfortable caricatures. </p>
<p>There are 14 roles shared between three actors, and perhaps this requires a level of dexterity that contributes to uneven performances. </p>
<p>An ominous inevitability ties the best parts of the play together. We are left with a gut-wrenching sense that, for kids like AJ, the justice system has nothing to do with justice.</p>
<p><em>Jailbaby is at Griffin Theatre Company, Sydney, until August 19.</em></p>
<hr>
<p><em>The National Sexual Assault, Family and Domestic Violence Counselling Line – 1800 RESPECT (1800 737 732) – is available 24 hours a day, seven days a week for any Australian who has experienced, or is at risk of, family and domestic violence and/or sexual assault.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/209217/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Camilla Nelson does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>This new play by Suzie Miller, the one-time lawyer who wrote Prima Facie, ventures into dark places few want to confront.Camilla Nelson, Associate Professor in Media and Journalism, University of Notre Dame AustraliaLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/2069292023-06-13T05:00:29Z2023-06-13T05:00:29ZA gothic, brilliant success: The Poison of Polygamy brings the first Chinese-Australian novel to the stage after 113 years<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/531523/original/file-20230613-24-8tc4he.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=22%2C2%2C1894%2C1273&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Prudence Upton/Sydney Theatre Company</span></span></figcaption></figure><p><em>Review: The Poison of Polygamy, directed by Courtney Stewart, La Boite and Sydney Theatre Company.</em></p>
<p>Early Chinese migrants to Australia believed in ghosts. </p>
<p>Hailing mostly from a handful of villages in China’s southern Guangdong province, these migrants were Cantonese peoples. For them, the undead had immense power – given the right circumstances. </p>
<p>It was beholden upon the living to manage the dead: bury them appropriately, return their bones to China, arrange for ancestor worship. </p>
<p><a href="https://prov.vic.gov.au/explore-collection/provenance-journal/provenance-2007/court-records-and-cultural-landscapes">Archives tell us</a> Chinese migrants in Australia feared the consequences if such rituals were neglected, even in the chaotic environmental mess of the Australian goldfields. </p>
<p>I’ve read <a href="https://twitter.com/SophieLoyWilson/status/1668471159380385792">court records</a> from this period in which Chinese witnesses recount “angry ghosts coming to strike them at night”.</p>
<p>The Poison of Polygamy begins with a ghost. The play directly addresses Australia’s Chinese ancestors, conjuring up the past while speaking directly to the present. </p>
<p>Issues of tyranny and servitude, oppression and resistance, violence and its afterlife are marshalled to speak to our modern souls. </p>
<p>What is the link between colonialism and environmental destruction? How do we tell the story of a group of people – themselves victims of European racism – who in turn were invaders of Indigenous land? </p>
<p>What do we do with a 19th-century Chinese-Australian morality tale which insists that Christian values, with all their concurrent conservative gender politics, will save us from moral dissolution?</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/new-gold-mountain-review-a-compelling-murder-mystery-shines-light-on-early-australian-multiculturalism-169527">New Gold Mountain review: a compelling murder mystery shines light on early Australian multiculturalism</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>Chinese migration</h2>
<p>An evangelical Chinese Christian, The Preacher (an excellent Shan-Ree Tan), walks towards the audience through a sea of mist, his throat cut and clutching a Bible. He is righteous and here to save our souls. </p>
<p>The Preacher is especially forthright on the questions of polygamy, a common practice in 19th-century China, which took on a new life among overseas Chinese migrant communities. Many first wives were “<a href="https://nuspress.nus.edu.sg/products/chinas-left-behind-wives">left behind</a>” in the village while their men took a second or third wife overseas.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/531524/original/file-20230613-22-cnyp5h.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A priest and a woman." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/531524/original/file-20230613-22-cnyp5h.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/531524/original/file-20230613-22-cnyp5h.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/531524/original/file-20230613-22-cnyp5h.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/531524/original/file-20230613-22-cnyp5h.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/531524/original/file-20230613-22-cnyp5h.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/531524/original/file-20230613-22-cnyp5h.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/531524/original/file-20230613-22-cnyp5h.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Shan-Ree Tan is excellent as The Preacher.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Prudence Upton/Sydney Theatre Company</span></span>
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</figure>
<p>The play’s hero (“and there is nothing heroic about him”, The Preacher dryly informs us) is Sleep-Sick (also played by Tan): an opium-addicted scrounger who mistreats his wife (Merlynn Tong) and is bundled off to the Australian goldfields by her cousin (Silvan Rus) due to his debt and social malignancy. </p>
<p>There, he befriends other Chinese migrants, eventually settling in Melbourne’s Chinatown. Their banter and debate encompass all the issues of the day: democracy, racial equality, capitalism, mateship, feminism and, of course, the scurvy of polygamy. </p>
<p>The Preacher will use Sleep-Sick’s misadventures as a warning to us all, until another equally righteous narrator – the servant girl or bond maiden Tsiu Hei (Kimie Tsukakoshi) – questions his right to tell her story.</p>
<h2>A lost classic</h2>
<p>The Poison of Polygamy was likely the first Chinese Australian novel. It was serialised in the Australian Chinese-language press, <a href="https://booksonthewall.com/blog/serial-novel-a-brief-history/">Charles Dickens-style</a>, from 1909-1910 in 53 instalments.</p>
<p>The author was a Chinese Christian, Wong Shee Ping. The son of gold-rush migrants, he drew on his own experience to write a book about life on the goldfields and in Melbourne.</p>
<p>Australia is lucky in two regards when it comes to the recovery of our Chinese past. We have one of the best-preserved Chinese-language presses in the West, and we have a leading bilingual historian in Mei-fen Kuo, who has been <a href="https://publishing.monash.edu/product/making-chinese-australia/">working her way</a> through this massive archive over the past 15 years.</p>
<p>Australia’s booming Chinatowns serviced several newspapers from the 1890s to the 1940s, read by Chinese Australians throughout Australia and beyond.</p>
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<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/531525/original/file-20230613-30-c47rc9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Three women." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/531525/original/file-20230613-30-c47rc9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/531525/original/file-20230613-30-c47rc9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/531525/original/file-20230613-30-c47rc9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/531525/original/file-20230613-30-c47rc9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/531525/original/file-20230613-30-c47rc9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/531525/original/file-20230613-30-c47rc9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/531525/original/file-20230613-30-c47rc9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
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<span class="caption">The Poison of Polygamy was originally published in the Chinese Times.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Prudence Upton/Sydney Theatre Company</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Prior to digitisation, much of this newsprint sat mildewed in Melbourne and Sydney’s Chinatowns. It took Mei-fen’s tenacity in 2006 to discover The Poison of Polygamy in the pages of the <a href="https://katebagnall.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/11/csds2014_14-2.pdf">Chinese Times</a>, which was published in Melbourne for a national readership.</p>
<p>The novel was translated by Ely Finch and <a href="https://sydneyuniversitypress.com.au/products/108833">published by Sydney University Press in 2019</a>.</p>
<p>Playwright Anchuli Felicia King read the novel and <a href="https://www.sydneytheatre.com.au/magazine/2023/june/the-poison-of-polygamy-digital-program-note#artistic-directors-note">rightly saw it</a> as an “Australian classic” and a “lost piece of our cultural heritage”. She wanted to stage a production “which spoke directly to our ancestors”. </p>
<h2>A brilliant success</h2>
<p>The result is a gothic, brilliant success, darkly funny and subversively political. </p>
<p>“We made your unions, we built your democracy,” Tsiu Hei tells the audience at the end. “We are in your limestone, in your clay.”</p>
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<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/531526/original/file-20230613-23-dfjpdg.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Two women on a bed." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/531526/original/file-20230613-23-dfjpdg.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/531526/original/file-20230613-23-dfjpdg.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/531526/original/file-20230613-23-dfjpdg.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/531526/original/file-20230613-23-dfjpdg.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/531526/original/file-20230613-23-dfjpdg.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/531526/original/file-20230613-23-dfjpdg.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/531526/original/file-20230613-23-dfjpdg.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The play is darkly funny and subversively political.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Prudence Upton/Sydney Theatre Company</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Under the direction of Courtney Stewart, clever staging using rolling red columns, muscular choreography and a startlingly effective lighting design (Ben Hughes) allow for transitions across space and time, creating a world where Europeans are on the margins of historical action in this country. </p>
<p>Australia’s Chinese heritage is wrestled from the grip of our Euro-centric past and – finally – told from the perspective of Chinese migrants themselves. </p>
<p>This is a triumphant reclamation of an Australia denied to us in monolingual readings of our history.</p>
<p><em>The Poison of Polygamy is at the Sydney Theatre Company until July 15.</em></p>
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<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/from-lurid-orange-sauces-to-refined-regional-flavours-how-politics-helped-shape-chinese-food-in-australia-150283">From lurid orange sauces to refined, regional flavours: how politics helped shape Chinese food in Australia</a>
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<img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/206929/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Sophie Loy-Wilson receives funding from the Australian Research Council </span></em></p>Adapted by playwright Anchuli Felicia King, this ‘Australian classic’ is darkly funny and subversively political.Sophie Loy-Wilson, Senior Lecturer in Australian History, University of SydneyLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1887192023-04-22T12:45:43Z2023-04-22T12:45:43ZRemembering Barry Humphries, the man who enriched the culture, reimagined the one man show and upended the cultural cringe<p>Barry Humphries began his career as a Dadaist. His street performances around Melbourne in the early 1950s foreshadowed performance art in Australia. He was the most daring student prankster Melbourne University had ever known. </p>
<p>Years later, academic Peter Conrad accurately described Humphries’ adolescence as a “one man modern movement”. </p>
<p>The young man secured his first paid acting role after a number of complaints from various women about a Dadaist event called <a href="https://trove.nla.gov.au/newspaper/article/48936279">Call Me Madman!</a>, staged at the University of Melbourne’s Union Theatre in 1953. It was anarchic, just like the early Dada shows of the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cabaret_Voltaire_(Zurich)">Cabaret Voltaire</a> in Zurich several decades earlier. </p>
<p>Call Me Madman! opened with a single musical phrase played on a violin over and over again, then a pianist sitting out of view of the audience sounded the same chords and notes in repetition, and ended in a ferocious food fight, with Humphries hiding in a cupboard from the outraged students who stormed the stage. </p>
<p>This parody taught him how to provoke his audience, securing their complicit and violent participation in his act. It also gave him his first taste of the power of an audience to determine what happens in the theatre. It was both risky and intoxicating. </p>
<p>When John Sumner, founder of the burgeoning Union Theatre Repertory Company (which would go on to become Melbourne Theatre Company), heard the complaints about the revue, he offered the young man a job. </p>
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<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/does-australia-get-culture-18327">Does Australia 'get' culture? </a>
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</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>The birth of Edna</h2>
<p>On a tour of country Victoria with the company, Humphries performed a spidery Orsino in Twelfth Night, directed by Ray Lawler with Zoe Caldwell as Viola. </p>
<p>Humphries entertained the cast on the long bus rides, with falsetto speeches in cruel but hilarious parody of the predictable words of thanks given in every town by ladies of the Country Women’s Association over tea. The character invented to pass the time on the bus made her debut in Lawler’s Christmas revue in 1955. </p>
<p>Edna was a composite portrait of various women whose mannerisms had imprinted themselves in his brain as a boy, growing up in staid Camberwell. </p>
<p>With his new character, Humphries summoned a whole new world to the stage and created a comedy of ordinariness that had never been presented before. </p>
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<p>This Mrs Average took on a life of her own and shone as the centrepiece of Humphries’ theatrical world for the next 60 years, becoming Dame Edna Everage – elevated by the Prime Minister Gough Whitlam himself – in <a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0071196/">Barry McKenzie Holds His Own</a> in 1974. </p>
<p>Just two years later, Humphries’ extravaganza <a href="https://collections.artscentremelbourne.com.au/#details=ecatalogue.10100">Housewife Superstar!</a> charmed the West End. Wearing a massive hat sculpted to resemble the Sydney Opera House, Edna stopped the crowds at Royal Ascot that year. </p>
<p>The image of her in that sumptuous creation (now in the Victoria and Albert Museum) launched Edna and Humphries around the world. </p>
<h2>Conquering the world</h2>
<p>Edna hosted a series of chat shows on British television, watched every week by an audience of eight million. She skewered dozens of politicians, pop stars, singers and actors who graced the program every week. </p>
<p>Her appearance with Jerry Hall singing Stand by your Man remains one of the most hilarious television moments of that time.</p>
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<p>Humphries’ success on British television in the 1980s and 1990s were among the major achievements of his career. He created his very own theatre of the absurd with his reinvention of the chat show. The me-generation could not get enough. </p>
<p>After that, Edna conquered Broadway.</p>
<p>Humphries’ theatrical magic also included dozens of other characters, all of them parodic and sharply satirical, such as the hard-drinking diplomat Sir Les Patterson. </p>
<p>He delighted audiences and prosecuted his satirical attacks on Australian life. On stage and on television, his ingenuity as a performer derived from his instinct for improvisation. At his best, the audience was treated to exceptional satirical theatre.</p>
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<h2>The early years</h2>
<p>John Barry Humphries was born February 17 1934, the oldest child of Eric and Louisa Humphries. Eric ran a flourishing building business (he might be called a developer nowadays) and Louisa was a homemaker. As a child, Barry was close to his sister, Barbara. Barry also enjoyed adult company. He loved dressing up and accompanying his mother on trips to the city or out for lunch with other ladies.</p>
<p>At Melbourne Grammar, Humphries found the boys who excelled in sports rewarded and praised for their achievements. Everyone else was a second-class citizen. An interest in art or music was considered by the headmaster to be suspicious, a disappointment for Humphries, passionate about art. </p>
<p>In time, Humphries found a way to survive Melbourne Grammar – through provocation. When he was reprimanded for failing to cut his hair to regulation length, he stared coolly at the headmaster and said, “There’s one man in the chapel with hair that is longer than mine. His name is Jesus”. </p>
<p>Humphries’ comment was not punished. Before long everyone had heard of his audacious retort. </p>
<p>On icy winter afternoons at the MCG – compelled to watch the titans of the school wrestle in the mud – Humphries found an ingenious way of expressing his view of proceedings. He positioned himself in a chair with his back to the football field, facing the spectators. </p>
<p>Slowly he drew out of his specially made Gladstone bag a set of large knitting needles and ball of wool; he would sit for the duration of the match calmly knitting a cardigan.</p>
<h2>A transformational artist</h2>
<p>Humphries was resilient and indomitable. He defeated alcoholism. He was generous, competitive and single minded. </p>
<p>With his mask off he was as witty as when he wore it. He married four times and raised two daughters and two sons. </p>
<p>He is survived by his wife Lizzie Spender, and children Tessa, Emily, Oscar and Rupert. </p>
<p>Humphries transformed Australian comedy, bringing an astringent and anarchic Australian theatre to the world. Manning Clark <a href="https://library.museum.wa.gov.au/fullRecord.jsp?recnoListAttr=recnoList&recno=25284">called him</a> one of the “mythmakers and prophets of Australia […] enriching the culture which had been dominated by the straiteners”. </p>
<p>He certainly enriched the culture, reimagined the one man show and upended the cultural cringe. Bravo Barry. Farewell.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/friday-essay-barry-humphries-humour-is-now-history-thats-the-fate-of-topical-satirical-comedy-117499">Friday essay: Barry Humphries' humour is now history – that's the fate of topical, satirical comedy</a>
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<img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/188719/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Anne Pender received funding from the Australian Research Council for a project on Barry Humphries. Anne's biography of Humphries, One Man Show: The Stages of Barry Humphries, was published in 2010.</span></em></p>The Australian comedian has died at 89, after a career spanning seven decades.Anne Pender, Kidman Chair in Australian Studies and Director, JM Coetzee Centre for Creative Practice, University of AdelaideLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/2020292023-03-17T03:12:39Z2023-03-17T03:12:39ZBjörk was the big-ticket name – but Perth Festival’s heart was found in Bikutsi 3000’s afrofuturist musing on African resistance<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/515965/original/file-20230316-18-20pk39.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=6%2C0%2C2038%2C1361&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Jess Wyld/Perth Festival</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>For the culturally curious, February and March in Perth can be a rich maelstrom, with Perth Fringe and Perth Festival. We have apparently the world’s “<a href="https://fringeworld.com.au/news/7-facts-about-fringe-world-that-ll-make-you-go-hmmmm/">third largest</a>” fringe festival (after Edinburgh and Adelaide), but I’m not sure why this is good. </p>
<p>Whatever the case, audiences must plan and be focused in navigating such a cornucopia of competing works in two simultaneous festivals. </p>
<p>My Perth Festival was complicated by a jaunt to Adelaide (in the middle of that city’s festival and fringe) but I was delighted to be able to follow links between works, including <a href="https://www.tate.org.uk/art/art-terms/a/afrofuturism">afrofuturism</a>, <a href="https://www.classical-music.com/features/articles/what-post-classical-music/">post-classical music</a> and arts offering haunting examples of <a href="https://ethics.org.au/ethics-explainer-post-humanism/">post-humanism</a>: that which exceeds, replaces or accompanies the human. </p>
<h2>Deep listening</h2>
<p>Artistic director Iain Grandage’s previous Perth Festivals tended towards light musical programming, both in quantity and emphasis on accessibility – consider the festival obtaining the world record for <a href="https://www.abc.net.au/news/2020-03-02/acdc-tribute-highway-to-hell-rocks-perth/12015120">biggest air guitar ensemble</a> in 2020.</p>
<p>This year, however, had many post-classical music highlights which demanded <a href="https://artreview.com/whats-the-point-of-deep-listening-pauline-oliveros/">deep listening</a>.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/515956/original/file-20230316-28-7ttkfe.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Musicians on a deep blue stage." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/515956/original/file-20230316-28-7ttkfe.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/515956/original/file-20230316-28-7ttkfe.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/515956/original/file-20230316-28-7ttkfe.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/515956/original/file-20230316-28-7ttkfe.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/515956/original/file-20230316-28-7ttkfe.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/515956/original/file-20230316-28-7ttkfe.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/515956/original/file-20230316-28-7ttkfe.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">A Dread Of Voids was an uncompromising night of rich sonic assaults.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Cam Campbell/Perth Festival</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Anthony Pateras’ compositions piano, amplified vocals, clarinet, contrabass and flute with <a href="https://www.anthonypateras.com/bandsprojects/adreadofvoids-2021">A Dread of Voids</a> was an uncompromising night of rich sonic assaults and drone, often with cyclic developmental structures. </p>
<p>Pateras offered a masterful performance, framing the piano with electronics and off kilter pianistic effects such that, for me, it recalled to some degree his other works on prepared piano (where bolts, screws, paper and other materials render strings percussive). </p>
<p>This was followed by Cédric Tiberghien’s performance of <a href="https://matildamarseillaise.com/the-cage-project-en/">John Cage’s suite for prepared piano</a>. Matthias Schack-Arnott crafted a sounding mobile that rotated over Tiberghien. Spun by fans and motors, it gave the performance an air of the inhuman. Tambours and slates were struck above Tiberghien, adding density and counterpoint.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/515958/original/file-20230316-28-bwsw9n.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A man at a piano." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/515958/original/file-20230316-28-bwsw9n.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/515958/original/file-20230316-28-bwsw9n.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=444&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/515958/original/file-20230316-28-bwsw9n.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=444&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/515958/original/file-20230316-28-bwsw9n.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=444&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/515958/original/file-20230316-28-bwsw9n.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=557&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/515958/original/file-20230316-28-bwsw9n.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=557&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/515958/original/file-20230316-28-bwsw9n.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=557&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Cédric Tiberghien’s performance had an air of the inhuman.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Tony McDonough/Perth Festival</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Schack-Arnott also performed in his <a href="http://matthiasschackarnott.com/everywhen/">Everywhen</a>, intimately offered in the Perth Institute of Contemporary Art. </p>
<p>Schack-Arnott circled within a lighter, jewel-like mobile, sometimes dragging along the ground ringing metal tubes, bells, seed-pods and more. </p>
<p>Schack-Arnott animated or removed items, before crouching ritualistically to play stones and other items, again accompanied by mechanically driven devices above.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/515959/original/file-20230316-28-n6qzuy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/515959/original/file-20230316-28-n6qzuy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/515959/original/file-20230316-28-n6qzuy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/515959/original/file-20230316-28-n6qzuy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/515959/original/file-20230316-28-n6qzuy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/515959/original/file-20230316-28-n6qzuy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/515959/original/file-20230316-28-n6qzuy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/515959/original/file-20230316-28-n6qzuy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Everywhen was intimately offered in the Perth Institute of Contemporary Art.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Perth Festival</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The music program closed with Gradient from composer/photographer Olivia Davies, performed by Callum G’Froerer on double-bell trumpet. They offered a sort of aggressive chillout room, where G’Froerer’s looped, breathy, clattery and sometimes rhythmic sounds were accompanied by abstract distortions of images taken at the dilapidated Liberty Theatre.</p>
<h2>Deconstructing cinema and theatre</h2>
<p>Grandage has put First Nations art at the heart of his festivals, together with dance and theatre. </p>
<p>Stephanie Lake’s dance and drumming <a href="https://theconversation.com/innovative-and-thrilling-stephanie-lakes-manifesto-is-a-joy-175332">Manifesto</a> toured from the east. Sadly, it was too wide for Heath Ledger Theatre, with some spectators unable to see the drummers in the wings. </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/innovative-and-thrilling-stephanie-lakes-manifesto-is-a-joy-175332">'Innovative and thrilling': Stephanie Lake's Manifesto is a joy</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>I missed Australian Dance Theatre’s <a href="https://limelightmagazine.com.au/reviews/tracker-australian-dance-theatre-and-ilbijerri-theatre-company/">The Tracker</a> and Maatakitj (Clint Bracknell) performing with Kronos Quartet. </p>
<p>Local versions of what Bracknell calls “Noongar-futurism” – inspired by afrofuturism and drawing on electronic dance culture – featured in 2023, with the outdoor opening event of Djoondal offering a <a href="https://www.artshub.com.au/news/reviews/review-djoondal-and-perth-moves-perth-festival-2614249/">fleet of synchronised drones</a> evoking celestial Dreamings.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/515960/original/file-20230316-28-trxhws.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Drones light up the sky" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/515960/original/file-20230316-28-trxhws.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/515960/original/file-20230316-28-trxhws.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=316&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/515960/original/file-20230316-28-trxhws.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=316&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/515960/original/file-20230316-28-trxhws.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=316&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/515960/original/file-20230316-28-trxhws.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=397&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/515960/original/file-20230316-28-trxhws.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=397&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/515960/original/file-20230316-28-trxhws.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=397&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Djoondal evoked celestial Dreamings.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Jarrad Russell/Perth Festival</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Choreographer/director Laura Boynes’ <a href="https://limelightmagazine.com.au/reviews/equations-of-a-falling-body-perth-festival/">Equations of a Falling Body</a> offered a beautiful disorder of objects, bodies and things piled and moved about stage in what has become something of a WA tradition, following Emma Fiswick’s 2021 Festival production of <a href="https://www.seesawmag.com.au/2021/03/dance-to-savour/">Slow Burn, Together</a>.</p>
<p>Aside from Equations of a Falling Body, this year’s theatre and dance highlights were tours of works from the eastern states. </p>
<p>Cyrano, from the Melbourne Theatre Company in association with Black Swan, was an enormously fun vehicle for writer/performer Virginia Gay. The other characters were thespians, so the performance was a cross between Pirandello’s <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Six_Characters_in_Search_of_an_Author#">Six Characters in Search of an Author</a> and romantic melodrama, a celebratory post-COVID work, if perhaps ultimately forgettable.</p>
<p>The mobile screens above the stage for <a href="https://theconversation.com/a-production-to-satisfy-sydneys-darkest-imaginings-sydney-theatre-companys-strange-case-of-dr-jekyll-and-mr-hyde-185596">The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde</a>, from Sydney Theatre Company, produced not so much director Kip Williams’ professed “cine-theatre”, as a deconstructing of the inhuman cinematic machine itself. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/515961/original/file-20230316-1658-i50sjb.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/515961/original/file-20230316-1658-i50sjb.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/515961/original/file-20230316-1658-i50sjb.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/515961/original/file-20230316-1658-i50sjb.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/515961/original/file-20230316-1658-i50sjb.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/515961/original/file-20230316-1658-i50sjb.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/515961/original/file-20230316-1658-i50sjb.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/515961/original/file-20230316-1658-i50sjb.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde was a deconstructing the inhuman cinematic machine itself.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Daniel Boud/Perth Festival</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>This suited Williams’ exploration of distorting mirrors and mediated character doubles, which was so polished as to be all but seamless. In this production, however, Williams lacks any improvisatory fun and sense of exploration in his use of screens. I preferred the take on screen-enhanced theatre from local company The Last Great Hunt, whose exceptional <a href="https://www.outinperth.com/review-the-last-great-hunt-bottle-brilliance-with-le-nor-the-rain/">Lé Nør [the rain]</a> in the 2019 festival pointed to the inconsistency between screen image and ludicrous on-stage setups, celebrating cine-theatrical playfulness.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/a-production-to-satisfy-sydneys-darkest-imaginings-sydney-theatre-companys-strange-case-of-dr-jekyll-and-mr-hyde-185596">A production to satisfy Sydney's darkest imaginings: Sydney Theatre Company's Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>A transcultural museological performance</h2>
<p>Black Futurist music was another feature of the 2023 festival. </p>
<p>Franco-Cameroonian <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gncpiNV5sIQ">Bikutsi 3000</a> presented an afrofuturist musing on African resistance to Western culture through dance-as-peaceful-combat. </p>
<p>With an African-European cast led by Blick Bassy, Bikutsi 3000 featured selections from the <a href="https://www.quaibranly.fr/en/">musée du quai Branly</a>’s film archives, framed as a faux lecture combined with projected displays of fantastist African couture. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/515962/original/file-20230316-2270-vqytnx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Women dancing." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/515962/original/file-20230316-2270-vqytnx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/515962/original/file-20230316-2270-vqytnx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/515962/original/file-20230316-2270-vqytnx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/515962/original/file-20230316-2270-vqytnx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/515962/original/file-20230316-2270-vqytnx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/515962/original/file-20230316-2270-vqytnx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/515962/original/file-20230316-2270-vqytnx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Bikutsi 3000 presented an afrofuturist musing on African resistance to Western culture.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Jess Wyld/Perth Festival</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Voiceover text was paired with monumental living portraits of fictional matriarchs representing Cameroon, Namibia, Togo, Tanzania, Rwanda and Burundi. </p>
<p>Accompanied by <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eOKEwtggKvw">throbbing house and hip hop</a>, it was punctuated by forceful Afro-fusion dance, mostly performed singly or in pairs, which combined regional forms of voguing, shade, hip hop, krumping and dancehall, alongside <a href="http://www.chinafrica.cn/Homepage/202108/t20210830_800256928.html">Indigenous African dance</a>. </p>
<p>Forceful energies rolled across the dancers’ chests while their limbs dropped and weaved. Legs and arms pumped or flew and circled. Bodies close to the ground flowed like liquid or shook vigorously. </p>
<p>Choreographer/dancers Nadeeya Gabrieli Kalati, Audrey Carlita, Martine Mbock and Mwendwa Marchand were exceptional, while Bassy’s inventive combination of blaring digital tones and bullhorns with African drumming and vocals recalled the best of South Africa’s electronic dance music scene.</p>
<p>As a transcultural museological performance, Bikutsi 3000 was nearly unique. Presented at the Studio Underground in the State Theatre Centre, it is unfortunate it wasn’t hosted at a museum. Presenting Bikutsi 3000 in the quai Branly was an implicit rebuke to the Anglo-European institutions still in charge of colonial heritage.</p>
<h2>The Romantic sublime</h2>
<p>The festival showstopper was Björk’s Cornucopia. Björk’s recordings are complex, multi-tracked works, and, like Bikutsi 3000, her stadium performance supplemented prerecorded material.</p>
<p>This produced hiccups, as when the on-stage use of bailers in a water tank to make music was inaudible and out of synchronisation. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/515963/original/file-20230316-20-qp2b77.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Björk in a ring of flutes." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/515963/original/file-20230316-20-qp2b77.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/515963/original/file-20230316-20-qp2b77.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/515963/original/file-20230316-20-qp2b77.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/515963/original/file-20230316-20-qp2b77.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/515963/original/file-20230316-20-qp2b77.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/515963/original/file-20230316-20-qp2b77.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/515963/original/file-20230316-20-qp2b77.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">When Björk’s production gelled, it was magic.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Santiago Felipe/Perth Festival</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>On the night I saw the performance, Björk was dressed in an unglamorous blue satin blob, which suited her <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/music/2023/mar/04/bjork-cornucopia-review-an-electrifying-pop-concert-art-installation-and-opening-ceremony-rolled-into-one">retiring performance persona</a>.</p>
<p>Without a charismatic megastar around which to anchor, Cornucopia became an agglutinated, operatic audiovisual spectacle. It was Björk’s flute septet Viibra who bopped away, not Björk. </p>
<p>But when it gelled, it was magic, as when Björk sat inside a giant “circle flute” played by four women, the singer’s angst-ridden vocals soaring.</p>
<p>Björk describes the show as representing a futuristic human/nature utopia, but it’s a utopia that has little space for humans. Projections for Body Memory <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GaQfixl2Ss4">showed</a> twisting headless bodies with spines and ridges deforming them, while <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cthulhu">Cthulhu</a>-like figures ascended as flayed skins. </p>
<p>In Björk’s fantasy, something descended from us will survive, but it won’t be any more human than Schack-Arnott’s mobiles.</p>
<p>Unlike the Black Futurist music theatre of the festival which offers an exuberant critical socio-cultural alternative way of viewing the past and the present, Björk’s alt-classicism and Jekyll echo older European models of the <a href="https://scalar.usc.edu/works/the-bengal-annual/sublime">Romantic sublime</a>: something appealing or beautiful because it will soon destroy us.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/sexual-exhibitionism-riot-grrrl-and-climate-change-activism-30-years-of-raging-by-peaches-bikini-kill-and-bjork-still-going-strong-201388">Sexual exhibitionism, Riot Grrrl and climate change activism: 30 years of raging by Peaches, Bikini Kill and Björk, still going strong</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p><em>Correction: Anthony Pateras’ compositions were not for a prepared piano. This has been corrected.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/202029/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Jonathan W. Marshall does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>Iain Grandage’s fourth Perth Festival continued his focus on First Nations performance, together with an exhilarating dose of Black Futurism as well as demanding post-classical music.Jonathan W. Marshall, Associate Professor & Postgraduate Research Coordinator, Western Australian Academy of Performing Arts, Edith Cowan UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1999822023-02-28T03:47:54Z2023-02-28T03:47:54ZSex Magick: this gender-bending, time-travelling play invites you to detangle love and sex<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/512558/original/file-20230227-26-ojc054.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=2%2C0%2C1914%2C1281&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Brett Boardman/Griffin Theatre Company</span></span></figcaption></figure><p><em>Review: Sex Magick, directed by Declan Greene.</em></p>
<p>Boy meets girl. Boy falls in love with girl and follows her to India. Boy has a transformative tantric sexual experience and realises he might like boys too? Boy, girl and boy live happily ever after. </p>
<p>At its heart, Sex Magick, a new play written by Nicholas Brown, is about subverting expectations, queering desire and digging beneath the surface, taking the audience on a meandering, ultimately thrilling ride filled with laughter, music, sex and dance. </p>
<p>The play opens in a throbbing red-light filled locker room as Ard Panicker (Raj Labade) is thrust into an awkward conversation with his mother, Cindy (Blazey Best), which reveals as much as it conceals. </p>
<p>Cindy loves crucifixes and Christmas. Heading to her wedding rehearsal, she seems surprised to see Ard. </p>
<p>The tension between mother and son makes more sense when we later learn Cindy paid Ard’s father Keeran (Veshnu Narayanasamy) to return to India because he wasn’t raising one of their sons to the standard of masculinity Cindy expected. </p>
<p>Any guesses whether that son was Ard or his rugby-playing sibling Kollam?</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/illegal-sydney-warehouse-parties-lives-lost-to-aids-and-gay-liberation-photographer-william-yang-captured-it-all-199181">Illegal Sydney warehouse parties, lives lost to AIDS, and gay liberation: photographer William Yang captured it all</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>Humour in discomfort</h2>
<p>We are catapulted to “the real India, authentic to its core”. Liraz (Catherine Văn-Davies) has brought an unwitting Ard with her to a Tantric sex course. </p>
<p>The guru, Manmatha (Stephen Madsen), is white but India is in his “spiritual DNA” as his great-great-grandfather worked for the East India Company. </p>
<p>Sex Magick insightfully mocks western fascination with and fetishisation of Indian culture.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/512559/original/file-20230227-1356-cb7yyw.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/512559/original/file-20230227-1356-cb7yyw.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/512559/original/file-20230227-1356-cb7yyw.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/512559/original/file-20230227-1356-cb7yyw.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/512559/original/file-20230227-1356-cb7yyw.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/512559/original/file-20230227-1356-cb7yyw.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/512559/original/file-20230227-1356-cb7yyw.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/512559/original/file-20230227-1356-cb7yyw.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Sex Magick insightfully mocks western fascination with Indian culture.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Brett Boardman/Griffin Theatre Company</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Ard and Liraz explore their sexuality with Manmatha as their guide. </p>
<p>Halfway through what Ard thinks is a loving and intimate massage performed by Liraz, she is swapped by Manmatha. When Ard discovers this he angrily rushes out of the room. Manmatha simply claims “there’s something not right about that man. I can’t put a finger in it.” </p>
<p>Sex Magick is good at pushing boundaries and finding the humour in discomfort. </p>
<p>Liraz’s path to sexual liberation is fraught with several roadblocks. At one point she has trouble remembering the complete queer alphabet. In spite of it, she is adamant that she is an L. </p>
<p>Is she though? </p>
<p>Through an equally sensitive and funny performance, Liraz urges each of us to reconsider the boxes we put ourselves in and untangle love and sex – or, as her ex-boyfriend TJ tells her, don’t be so “rigid, learn to bend”. </p>
<h2>Finding fluidity</h2>
<p>A thread that weaves through Ard and Liraz’s sexual awakening is the sexual and gender fluidity in Indian culture. </p>
<p>The subcontinent had a more <a href="https://blogs.lse.ac.uk/gender/2019/06/17/hijras-and-the-legacy-of-british-colonial-rule-in-india/">nuanced understanding</a> of gender and sex before British colonisation.</p>
<p>Sex Magick dips its toes into some of this complexity. Do two men holding hands have to be romantically intimate partners, or can this be a sign of camaraderie? Can a man paint his face, wear feminine clothing and still identify as a man, a husband and a father?</p>
<p>Ard’s full given name is <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ardhanarishvara">Ardhanarishvara</a>, for the deity, half woman and half man symbolising the inseparability of the feminine and masculine. This god is brought up several times to reinforce the duality present in Hinduism, and the mesh of feminine and masculine is portrayed beautifully through the traditional <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kathakali">Kathakali dance</a>. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/512560/original/file-20230227-16-92new3.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A dancer" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/512560/original/file-20230227-16-92new3.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/512560/original/file-20230227-16-92new3.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/512560/original/file-20230227-16-92new3.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/512560/original/file-20230227-16-92new3.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/512560/original/file-20230227-16-92new3.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/512560/original/file-20230227-16-92new3.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/512560/original/file-20230227-16-92new3.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Feminine and masculine is portrayed beautifully through traditional Kathakali.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Brett Boardman/Griffin Theatre Company</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Kathakali dances often borrow from Hindu mythology and Indian epics, but Sex Magick insists on creating stories that keep up with the changing times. “Why tell the same old god and goddess stories when you can create something new?” Asks young Keeran (Labade).</p>
<p>In blending the old with the new, Sex Magick carefully walks the line between respect of tradition and personal expression.</p>
<h2>A wild ride</h2>
<p>The show is most at home when talking about the Australian context. The witch coven “Body Somatic” in Marrickville leads to unending glee. The audience bursts into laughter at the mention of the local deity “Whit-nayyy” (that’s Whitney Houston for the uninitiated). </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/512561/original/file-20230227-18-k01vxg.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Four people on a yellow stage" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/512561/original/file-20230227-18-k01vxg.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/512561/original/file-20230227-18-k01vxg.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/512561/original/file-20230227-18-k01vxg.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/512561/original/file-20230227-18-k01vxg.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/512561/original/file-20230227-18-k01vxg.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/512561/original/file-20230227-18-k01vxg.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/512561/original/file-20230227-18-k01vxg.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The cast is brilliant.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Brett Boardman/Griffin Theatre Company</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The play is peppered with well acted and skilfully contrived sex scenes performed with ease and confidence by the brilliant cast. Much of the magic is courtesy of a rapturous lighting design (Kelsey Lee). Smoke often makes the room feel like an expansive fantastical wonderland. </p>
<p>Sex Magick is a funny, chaotic and wild ride that urges us to consider desire as not a personal and individual choice but a political one shaped by structural factors beyond our control. </p>
<p>This gender-bending, time-travelling play invites you to detangle love and sex, examine your biases, question your tastes and unpack your cultural baggage – with wild peacocks. </p>
<p><em>Sex Magick is at Griffin Theatre Company, Sydney, until March 25.</em></p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/for-some-lgbtq-older-people-events-like-world-pride-can-be-isolating-we-need-to-better-understand-how-to-support-them-200533">For some LGBTQ+ older people, events like World Pride can be isolating – we need to better understand how to support them</a>
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</em>
</p>
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<img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/199982/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Aisha Malik does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>At its heart, Sex Magick at Griffin Theatre Company is about subverting expectations, queering desire and digging beneath the surfaceAisha Malik, Casual Academic/ Research Administration Officer, University of SydneyLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1987782023-02-16T03:58:05Z2023-02-16T03:58:05ZBlessed Union puts queer families centre stage, with hilarity and heartbreak<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/510482/original/file-20230216-19-f11qnb.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=0%2C2%2C1917%2C1276&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Belvoir/Brett Boardman</span></span></figcaption></figure><p><em>This review contains spoilers.</em></p>
<hr>
<p><em>Review: Blessed Union, directed by Hannah Goodwin, Belvoir.</em></p>
<p>Billed as “the lesbian break-up comedy you didn’t know you needed”, Blessed Union is a chaotic joyride, a rapid-fire feast of words, ideas and emotions laying bare what happens when love and family are politicised.</p>
<p>The play is based partly on playwright Maeve Marsden’s experiences growing up with two lesbian mothers who eventually separated. </p>
<p>Plays about families have existed since the advent of theatre itself, but queer stories – especially queer family stories – are rarely centre stage.</p>
<p>Marsden and the Belvoir team make two important inroads. They not only show us a new kind of family, but they do this shrewdly via a traditional two-act play on a realistic stage set, with a kitchen at its crux, to reinhabit and reconsider the nuclear family. </p>
<p>Crucially, this piece does not shy away from the messier side of the rainbow family, highlighting all the ambiguities and inconsistencies of humans in relationships. </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/mum-dad-and-two-kids-no-longer-the-norm-in-the-changing-australian-family-88014">Mum, dad and two kids no longer the norm in the changing Australian family</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>Hilarity and heartbreak</h2>
<p>The play spans a period of nine months, from Easter to Christmas. </p>
<p>The family have their own rituals which overlay these more overtly institutional ones. Many centre around food: the family always make an egg and mock lamb pie at Easter; they have a pasta-making routine. </p>
<p>Food, an important symbol of ritual and nourishment, is “performed” in this family. Tofu is the substitute for lamb in the Easter pie because the family is vegetarian but when family relations degenerate, bacon makes an appearance, cooking stops and ice-cream is eaten for dinner. </p>
<p>When things go awry, so does the food, with hilarity and heartbreak.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/510485/original/file-20230216-24-m18zah.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A family in a kitchen" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/510485/original/file-20230216-24-m18zah.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/510485/original/file-20230216-24-m18zah.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/510485/original/file-20230216-24-m18zah.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/510485/original/file-20230216-24-m18zah.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/510485/original/file-20230216-24-m18zah.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/510485/original/file-20230216-24-m18zah.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/510485/original/file-20230216-24-m18zah.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">When things go awry, so does the food.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Belvoir/Brett Boardman</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Living in Sydney’s inner west, in a home perfectly rendered by designer Isabel Hudson with mid-century furniture, Parker chairs, standard lamps and a “Yes” poster from the marriage equality plebiscite on the kitchen wall, union organiser Ruth (Danielle Cormack) and primary school teacher Judith (Maude Davey) have been together for more than 30 years, having children before the advent of marriage equality. </p>
<p>Ruth and Judith announce their breakup with the return home of their teenage daughter Delilah (Emma Diaz) from her legal studies at a university outside Sydney. </p>
<p>Her brother Asher (Jasper Lee-Lindsay) still lives with his mothers and is attending a Catholic school. </p>
<p>We don’t find out why Judith and Ruth are breaking up at first, but we see they are determined to control their breakup: to do it as well as they have tried to do everything in their lives. </p>
<p>They have invested much in being the textbook couple; the stakes of their separation are also high. </p>
<p>They had to fight hard not only for their rights, but to inhabit the institutions and organisations their straight counterparts took for granted. They want to find the perfect way to disentangle themselves from what they once fought hard to occupy. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/510487/original/file-20230216-24-swb18x.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="An upset woman." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/510487/original/file-20230216-24-swb18x.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/510487/original/file-20230216-24-swb18x.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/510487/original/file-20230216-24-swb18x.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/510487/original/file-20230216-24-swb18x.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/510487/original/file-20230216-24-swb18x.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/510487/original/file-20230216-24-swb18x.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/510487/original/file-20230216-24-swb18x.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">They have invested much in being the textbook couple, the stakes of their separation are also high.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Belvoir/Brett Boardman</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>We watch the hilarious unveiling of a poster – a withdrawal map of sorts – made by Judith’s primary school students, which the couple use to structure their breakup, their “untangling”, in a logical way. Although Delilah and Asher are shocked by the breakup announcement, they are massaged into accepting the move. Delilah even adds some sections to the poster (legal and financial). </p>
<p>The poster eventually goes the way of a BBQ burn-up, the closing symbol of act one for the eventual direction of their uncoupling: shambolic and full of feelings that logic cannot keep at bay.</p>
<h2>A long union</h2>
<p>Ruth is, in some ways, a difficult character to like. Her career and her needs appear to be more important to her than her family. Cormack plays this difficult character with extreme sensitivity, presenting the complexities and contradictions of a lesbian woman working in a male-dominated union where, as one of the two family breadwinners, she has had to make many ethical compromises. </p>
<p>Davey’s Judith is a wonderfully wrought characterisation of a woman undone by losing her partner. She easily physicalises Judith’s torments: there are some uproarious moments with a blender and the preparation of a plate of food for her son. </p>
<p>Lee-Lindsay is paradoxically the voice of normalcy in this family exactly because of his lack of care about how things appear. </p>
<p>Diaz’s Delilah, whose smartness and care for Judith threaten to undo her, has a crispness of body and attitude.</p>
<p>Both children are highly articulate, brought up with the onus of having to justify their identities and lives to the straight world.</p>
<p>The issue of their mixed Asian heritage is thrown in as part of the recriminations the children feel towards their mothers. One of the strands of Blessed Union that could have been developed more, it nonetheless points to just another political decision made by this lesbian couple.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/510491/original/file-20230216-22-givp1s.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Two teenagers" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/510491/original/file-20230216-22-givp1s.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/510491/original/file-20230216-22-givp1s.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/510491/original/file-20230216-22-givp1s.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/510491/original/file-20230216-22-givp1s.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/510491/original/file-20230216-22-givp1s.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/510491/original/file-20230216-22-givp1s.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/510491/original/file-20230216-22-givp1s.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">There is a strong sense this family has been together for many years.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Belvoir/Brett Boardman</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Hannah Goodwin’s strengths as a director manifest most in the clear sense of the family having been together for many years. Goodwin has guided her actors towards finding the joy and the heartbreak of this family’s untangling.</p>
<p>This is an important play. The words left ringing in my ears were Delilah’s to Ruth: words to the effect of “stop performing”. </p>
<p>Ironic in a play, but crucial to creating meaningful lives. How do you move to the sound of a different drum when those drums are encased in heteronormative forms? Food for thought.</p>
<p><em>Blessed Union is at Belvoir, Sydney, until March 11.</em></p>
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<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/children-with-same-sex-parents-do-better-at-school-than-their-peers-155205">Children with same-sex parents do better at school than their peers</a>
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</em>
</p>
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<img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/198778/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Janet Gibson does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>Maeve Marsden’s play lays bare what happens when love and family are politicised.Janet Gibson, Tutor in Creative Arts, Macquarie UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1987792023-02-02T23:51:56Z2023-02-02T23:51:56ZMore than 2,000 people from Wittenoom died of asbestos-related diseases. A powerful and compelling requiem brings their story to the stage<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/507988/original/file-20230202-19611-hi8om7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=33%2C11%2C7315%2C5233&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Jodie Hutchinson/Red Stitch</span></span></figcaption></figure><p><em>Review: Wittenoom, directed by Susie Dee, Red Stitch</em></p>
<p>Deep in the remote Pilbara region of Western Australia, the town of Wittenoom lies empty, desolate … and contaminated.</p>
<p><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wittenoom,_Western_Australia">Wittenoom</a> is on Banjima country. It was officially established in 1947 as a company town to house those working on the blue asbestos mine in the nearby Wittenoom Gorge. In the 1950s, Wittenoom became Australia’s sole supplier of asbestos. The reported health risks of asbestos led to the shutting down of the mine in 1966 and permanent closure of the town in 2022. </p>
<p>To date, <a href="https://asbestosdiseases.org.au/the-wittenoom-tragedy/">more than 2,000</a> miners, residents and family members have died from asbestos-related diseases. </p>
<p>Wittenoom, a new play by Mary Anne Butler, is the story of Pearl (Emily Goddard) and her mother Dot (Caroline Lee), who live and work in the town in its functioning heyday of the 1940s. </p>
<p>The pair face a tragic outcome borne of corporate greed and denial. </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/asbestos-still-haunts-those-exposed-as-kids-in-mining-towns-9487">Asbestos still haunts those exposed as kids in mining towns</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>Dark and spare</h2>
<p>As the play opens, Dot and Pearl are perched on the small stage underneath a faded and broken “Welcome to Wittenoom” sign with most of the letters missing. It’s a junky wooden scaffold, propped up with ladders and broken trusses, panels gaping, covered in a fine dust. Pearl begins with a breathy and apocalyptic opening monologue – a lyrical portent that foreshadows the disturbing story to come.</p>
<figure class="align-left zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/507990/original/file-20230202-9745-crv8gi.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Two women on stage" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/507990/original/file-20230202-9745-crv8gi.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/507990/original/file-20230202-9745-crv8gi.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=900&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/507990/original/file-20230202-9745-crv8gi.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=900&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/507990/original/file-20230202-9745-crv8gi.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=900&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/507990/original/file-20230202-9745-crv8gi.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1131&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/507990/original/file-20230202-9745-crv8gi.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1131&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/507990/original/file-20230202-9745-crv8gi.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1131&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The play shifts from hardscrabble domestic moments to more poetic interludes.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Jodie Hutchinson/Red Stitch</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The writing is dark and spare, and the play skips between present and past, shifting from hardscrabble domestic moments to more poetic interludes. Capable, affable Dot opens her house to some of the Greek and Italian mine workers to help them feel at home, even as, over time, the residents of the town begin to question the safety of the mine and the place where they live. </p>
<p>Young Pearl loves her mum, struggles to fit in at school, and grows more and more disturbed by the threat of the mine. These recollections are countered with the horror of a <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mesothelioma">mesothelioma</a> diagnosis and the hard facelessness of the medical fraternity. </p>
<p>As Dot, Lee is confident and centred. Goddard’s performance as Pearl is similarly accomplished, although there is a slightly alarming moment early on when Goddard resorts to that artificial convention of an adult playing a child. This is a brief interlude, fortunately, and for the most part both actors own the space. Together, they are terrific. It is so satisfying to see two performers who match each other’s energy and presence so well. </p>
<p>This presence is complemented by vocally strong delivery and an integrated and embodied physical expression – with each other, with the audience and with the space. </p>
<p>Despite the constrained playing area, there’s plenty of room for the audience to imagine into the world of the play, such is Susie Dee’s specific and attentive direction. Choreographed unison moments of long-recalled gestures and ghostly dances work to hold the piece in a kind of netherworld of memory and sadness. </p>
<p>The sound design by Ian Moorehead is variously heavy and swelling or dark and thunderous, sustained throughout the piece. At times a little tinny, it feels as if there is too much sound in this work, but the long and deep tones at the top of the show establish a suitably ominous feel.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/507991/original/file-20230202-7117-lm012v.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A woman in a pink shirt" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/507991/original/file-20230202-7117-lm012v.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/507991/original/file-20230202-7117-lm012v.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=429&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/507991/original/file-20230202-7117-lm012v.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=429&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/507991/original/file-20230202-7117-lm012v.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=429&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/507991/original/file-20230202-7117-lm012v.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=539&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/507991/original/file-20230202-7117-lm012v.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=539&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/507991/original/file-20230202-7117-lm012v.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=539&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The cast are terrific.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Jodie Hutchinson/Red Stitch</span></span>
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</figure>
<p>The writing does not shy away from the ghastly medical detail of someone suffering from mesothelioma or the harsh reality that characterises its progression. This grounds the play in an authentic space in which the vulnerability of the human body is laid bare. </p>
<p>The theme of contamination is writ large. The inexorable advance of the disease is manifest as Pearl describes the gobbets of blood coughed up on the floor, the shadows on the lungs, the tumours like tap roots, the tiny poisonous fibres – all while a pale, fine ash gradually settles over the actors’ bodies like bone dust. </p>
<h2>Human costs</h2>
<p>Wittenoom does have its difficult moments, but Butler’s writing provides enough space and silence to give us time to breathe and Dee’s direction keeps the energetic arc dynamic. </p>
<p>The show is hard and sad, as is the real-life story of many who lived in the town, but it is also necessary. It reminds us of the personal, messy, human cost of such tragedies.</p>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/507992/original/file-20230202-19291-85lvkb.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Two women on stage" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/507992/original/file-20230202-19291-85lvkb.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/507992/original/file-20230202-19291-85lvkb.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=840&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/507992/original/file-20230202-19291-85lvkb.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=840&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/507992/original/file-20230202-19291-85lvkb.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=840&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/507992/original/file-20230202-19291-85lvkb.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1056&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/507992/original/file-20230202-19291-85lvkb.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1056&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/507992/original/file-20230202-19291-85lvkb.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1056&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
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<span class="caption">There is space and silence for the audience to breathe.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Jodie Hutchinson/Red Stitch</span></span>
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</figure>
<p>The story of Wittenoom is a stark reminder of the deceptive and immoral practices large corporations maintain in the name of profit. The implications continue to manifest in contemporary Australian life. Asbestos mining was the cornerstone of the housing boom in the 1950s and ‘60s, and many of us grew up – or are still living – in houses built from asbestos sheeting, while companies continue to avoid admission of liability.</p>
<p>The show draws themes of grief, memory and injustice together in an undeniably moving way. It is a powerful and compelling requiem for the people whose lives have been destroyed. </p>
<p><em>Wittenoom is at Red Stitch, Melbourne, until February 19.</em></p>
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Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/explainer-why-the-james-hardie-asbestos-victim-compensation-fund-is-running-out-of-money-31633">Explainer: why the James Hardie asbestos victim compensation fund is running out of money</a>
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<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Kate Hunter does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>Susie Dee directs this dark and spare new play by Mary Anne Butler for Red Stitch.Kate Hunter, Lecturer in Art and Performance, Deakin UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.