So when life gives you lemons, you’ve got a choice.
You can either sit there staring at the lemons wondering what it means to be given a lemon, or wishing it was different: a cumquat perhaps… perhaps a bicycle or a love letter…

OR

You can start making lemonade. Read more

Subtlenuance is one of those rare companies that continues to contribute to the landscape of Sydney’s independent theatre scene. Most companies start, produce and finish before a significant body of work or practice can be established. This is not the case of subtlenuance – and I can’t help but have the impression that there is a strong intention to continue making – and providing opportunities to young and emerging writers – opportunities that just don’t materialise outside of the tight machinery of larger institutions. And I can’t praise them enough for that – as I firmly believe that it takes an audience to make a writer. Read more

There’s much I owe to Benito Di Fonzo, who seems to be quite intent on educating me on ragged and ground breaking word obsessives of yesteryear. Previously I had not really known nor acknowledged Bob Dylan as a pivotal pirate of wordsmithery – that is until Di Fonzo landed in my face a production of extreme adventure: THE CHRONIC ILLS OF ROBERT ZIMMERMAN AKA BOB DYLAN (A LIE). Firmly claiming the corner of the market on re-imagined long-titled docu-plays on famous rapscallions, Di Fonzo has introduced me to Lenny Bruce via the velvet voice of Sam Haft and a syncopated slam of a three piece jazz orchestra. Read more

In 1796, Sydney’s first windmill was built on Observatory Hill. Over The historic cobblestones of the Rocks in Sydney have had an unveiling of an epic variety – a windmill. In a nod to the wild imagination only Cervantes rivaled – the Harbour Foreshore Authority has imagined, made and re-created a Windmill in the centre of a square in the rocks. Read more

Somewhere in St Marys on a Tuesday morning at morning tea time, a group of people gather at a community centre. Inside, chairs outline a dance floor – two cabinets contain beautiful frocks and a couple of framed photographs – and four actors.

Created by Katrina Douglas and the performers in a response to interviews conducted with members of the community, the show’s billed as: “Part verbatim theatre and part social dance, this cross-generational performance will bring the world of the dance hall back to life with hints of first love, the magical music of the era and overcoming two left feet.” Read more

Nearly two hundred years ago 21 year old Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein or The Modern Prometheus was published in France with an anonymous author. Now, across the other side of the world and reconfigured by playwright Nick Dear, Mark Kilmurry’s own creation came to life on the stage of the Sydney Opera House.

The story is well known – through its many corrupted representations – but perhaps the most powerful cautionary tale about the consequences of creation. Read more

It was in 2009 when I first saw Tahli Corin on the train. A city bound morning train on the Inner West Line… She writing in a note book on her way to her job in the city, me struggling to find a seat whilst carrying several folders and bags as I used to then. I was moderately shy of her then… that was a long time ago: before I invited her onto the 428 bus for Stories from the 428 and after I had my heart broken and swept up again by her Sydney debut Bumming With Jane… that was before I had witnessed Tahli’s “One For the Ugly Girls” during NovemberISM (2011) and that was before I had become obsessed with the voyeurism of public transport A View From Moving Windows and after I realised that Tahli Corin just might be the Hannie Rayson of my generation… Read more

One of the great misconceptions I had when I embarked on a career in the arts was the idea that there would be a linear and upwards trajectory of achievement. It was a misconception which assumed that there was a natural order, a natural progression to developing as an artist… one which I have since wholeheartedly thrown out.

I don’t necessarily believe that there is a natural pathway for artists… perhaps for some there may be the smooth and predictable progression from school-yard encouragement to formal education due to main stage success… but for me it’s been a very interesting, logistical challenge of following my curiosity into unknown caverns and daring to have at the heart of any strategy regarding my career or art making a few slices of advice from Shakespeare: “to thine own self be true, And it must follow, as the night the day, Thou canst not then be false to any man” and from Wilde: “One should never do anything that one cannot talk about after dinner…”

So armed with two quotes and not really much of a plan, but to let art inform, guide and inspire my life I’ve followed my curiosity… and here I am. Read more

My 2012 started with playing guitar on the riverbanks of a small NSW coastal town. No, not in public. Not even close to the public. A free barbeque area and the occasional fizz of an illegal backyard firework in the near distance, a few singlet-shirted boys (drunk and mouthy) were as close to “the public” as I got… I was sitting with two men, two guitars waiting for my year to begin. I thought of how my “year off” (2011) had failed – busier than ever, I had managed to mend my broken heart, direct too many shows, write, speak publicly about issues and ideas that keep me up late at night.

My start to 2012 was a lot like teenage love: naive, full of star gazing and fumbling about on guitars.

The start to 2013 found me gently sobbing to perfect voices soaring through Gale Edwards’ production of La Boheme at the Sydney Opera House. Thanks again to kind Mr Waites, who yet again, furthered my education in opera – we consumed all the canapés and drinks we could handle and rubbed shoulders with his contemporaries/my heroes of Australian theatre. As the sky exploded in splashes of ecstatic decadence – I was in awe of the contrast of the previous year.

My start to 2013 was a little more sophisticated, a little less naïve.

I have been absent from the Blogosphere – you’ve noticed? It’s been a necessary hiatus but now in revision. Read more

It appears that burlesque is as common now as pub rock was in the 80s… in fact there is a part of me that thinks the rise of the popularity of burlesque may even manage to topple the pokies… (hmmm perhaps wishful thinking?) Many a bright young lass have been finding their sass and slide around the traps… and some unlikely of actors and designers doubling as burlesque performers… but there is something in it that captures imaginations. I am not so stirred by the sexual taboo – for me, there is a weighty and long history of cultural and political commentary at play.

The origins of burlesque are really like that of a revue or vaudeville variety show: originally being “a literary, dramatic or musical work intended to cause laughter by caricaturing the manner or spirit of serious works, or by ludicrous treatment of their subjects.” It takes a learned and thinking audience to appreciate that which is being referenced or subverted, and in a contemporary climate of visual stimulation, extreme physical portraits – I’m thinking body modification ( http://www.oddee.com/item_96617.aspx or even the more tame and still fascinating Embarrassing Bodies http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NoQjBjomY_0 ) and overly sexualised images in advertising http://www.boredpanda.com/sexy-ads/ burlesque faces a tough crowd.

In the last ten years or so, the popularity of burlesque has proliferated. Read more