November was a busy month. Lots of shows on. Lots to direct. Lots to see. And amongst that was Novemberism -a brand new festival for playwrights that seemed to pop out of nowhere, containing a collection of collectives, writing opportunities and conversations. On one of the many Saturdays of Novemberism, I struggled in the swelter of a slow-to-start summer to The Old 505 Theatre. I went in search of a panel discussion on Auto/biography in theatre, hosted by John McCallum and with contributions from Kate Mulvany (The Seed), Rebecca Clarke (Unspoken), Noelle Janaczewska (Good with Maps) and Phil Spencer (Bluey).

The discussion was about autobiography and “the playwright made public.” Explicitly public. Of course plays contain perspectives and beliefs of playwrights – many often write “what they know.” One can not help but for the choice of topic, perspective or question to mean something to the artist – why else bother expending time, effort, money on the work?

But autobiography and biography are slightly more overt in their drawing from the life of the writer, than the usual subtle disguise “fiction” offers. Many of the writers on the panel spoke of responsibility and authenticity. Of a desire to tell a real story. Of a desire to heal or even to challenge oneself. It is at it’s core, a mode of expression which is direct, untainted, unmasked.

Biography and autobiography are attractive to audiences – it is as though there is a secret revelation offered – an inside look into a secret, personal, private realm. For some audiences, there may be a bit of schadenfreude involved. A curiosity, at least, in the lives and trials of others.

As a generation, we are in a strange era of story telling practice, primarily because we are in an age of the reality TV celebrity. We are finding that the ordinary are exaultant. That there are many willing to share their story (for a price) and publicity and self-promotion is everywhere.

In an age of social media – where Facebook and Twitter offers constant mini-monologuing – it is not surprising that the idea of talking about oneself is openly acceptable. Don’t get me wrong, I am a user of the social media, I am not above, nor am I exempt from its addictive qualities. But it is a commonplace occurance that people share their opinions and ideas and day-to-day chores online. We are being subjected to autobiography ALOT. I love autobiography – I love biographies – I use them as a source of inspiration or reassurance. I seek out the stories of others to enrich my life and world view, so I may too reflect on my life. I prefer auto/biography to straight “fiction.”

So I have been thinking about it. ALOT.

Recently in a curated “festival” by TRS Associate Director, Phil Spencer, autobiography was on show. A selection of artists were invited by Spencer to share a story about themselves or someone else. It contained works by and Phil Spencer.

I saw a small portion of the festival, and as such will not review the season. But instead feel it useful to express what I saw.

Some of the works were presented in the context of a tender new work/development showing- which I found a little confusing as I was certain that I had seen this piece by Nick Coyle in August at Cut & Paste at the Bondi Pavillion, and was certain that Betty Grumble (a burlesque persona who has no holds barred – menstrual blood, bacardi breezers, nudity – the whole bit) had repeated this performance, and that Alex Vaughan had previously shown these photos at exhibitions (namely the Head On portraiture prize) throughout the year.

Another night was a triptych of works (which did not have the development disclaimer up front) were pieces by Spencer, Spencer and Coombs-Marr.

This was a really difficult theatrical experience for me. Really difficult. The difficulty was multiplicitous and I have been slowly processing it since.

I have only walked out of maybe a handful of shows in my life. And both these suites I left before they were finished.

The problems I had was largely curatorial and largely with my expectation of what auto/biographical work is.

I had been excited to experience this work so that I might be informed or confided in something I didn’t know about the artists. I was hoping to gain an insight into who they are, where they are from, what questions they have about the world, and their place in it. What they struggle with, who they are when they are struggling. I was hoping to find an insight, a profound moment of personal public revelation – perhaps I would be presented with something funny yet fragile, something which risked something of their personality or burgeoning profile. Perhaps my assumptions about them would be challenged and I would be shown the person, not just the posture. I would find the ugly, the difficult – and in doing so be blown away by profound bravery.

No.

What I saw was not that. There was a few moments in what I saw which sparked my interest – in which I felt closer to the maker/writer/performer – but largely it was very superficial performance. I saw re-presented acts, imported from other contexts, I saw acts of fiction and fancy. I saw a very simplistic view of self – that of entertainer – one to be laughed at and coyly identified as cute. Nothing personal was risked. Nothing that made me appreciate them more as people or artists with aspirations bigger than themselves or what I already know and admire.

Nothing was revealed that inspired or reassured me. This was for me a selection of work which was fairly white, middle-class, educated and focused on telling the story of those under 35 (even Great Apeth which included a grandmother figure was focused on the young).

Audience around me howled with laughter. One person stood up in the audience and started clapping and howling with laughter when one performer was dancing to Jewel with an alien puppet. I felt alone. I felt cheated. I felt old. I felt outside the cool gang on stage who were performing a version of themselves that I found to be cheap and glib. I felt like I was taking up the seat of someone who would have enjoyed this work. I felt like a fool. I quietly walked out of the theatre. I got in my old, ancient, ancient car. I cried. Drove myself home.

I am too intense sometimes. Sometimes I take things pretty seriously, perhaps too seriously. I was looking for a profound moment of connection or engagement. I was even looking for fact, or truth -in an entertaining and delightful form, yes – I wanted to hear the moment of transformation – or the moment of revelation. I wanted to learn something about these people that I couldn’t learn on facebook.

Why was I so disappointed? Perhaps I expect too much?

Can autobiographical performance ever be truly honest? Are there somethings that shouldn’t be confessed or spoken or performed? Where does the form of autobiography and the form of theatrical storytelling (embellishment and irony) overlap? What is the point of autobiography.

And i continue to roll these questions around in my mind. I’m yet to answer them.

I think I would have stayed IF the festival was perhaps more diverse – and sought voices and performers from all corners of Australia and the world. I think I would have also felt more comfortable if it wasn’t billed as autobiography but a scratch night or another Cut&Paste evening. Or if it was a “Best of my Friends” billing – fair enough. There were a few moments I held on to as real authentic revelation – but on the whole, I don’t think this was really my thing (with the exception of the offering from Lucinda Gleeson about her teenagehood in Canberra). Other audience members loved it – and that is awesome. I’m honestly, glad. And slightly jealous that they had such a good time – where as I left dispondent and disappointed and still believing that artists of my generation can be braver, bolder and more interesting, more honest, more authentic than this. I’m sure the journeys of these artists, the lives of these artists are bigger and braver than this. And I don’t just think that it’s the youthfulness that presented a safe and homogenous suite of works – for there are stories of divine inspiration and braverly from people not so long in the tooth. I’m sure of it.

There are quotes from Henry Rollins that have helped define the perameters of my thinking about this:

“As long as I tell the truth I feel that nobody can touch me.”

“Being an artist is dragging your innermost feelings out, giving a piece of yourself, no matter in which art form, in which medium.”

But it’s very tough to watch a show when you know for a fact the person sitting next to you has revealed some pretty intense and inspiring and life-changing things to you, that make everything you see before you, seem like a glib self-marketing strategy.

I love this picture. I love that it is an emblem of my first show containing all seven writers of 7-On Playwrights collective. Over the past 4 years I have worked with all of them at least once of my many projects I have launched and curated, produced or commissioned… but never all of them in the one show, at the one time, in the one place. I love this picture because the flowers are all at different stages of relaxing/growing. I love the colours. I love that it’s a lady painter. I love it…

Sometimes all the moons align and all the things you need and want are at your fingertips.

Sometimes it all just happens.

Sometimes it’s joyful and easy.

And this was one such project…

The cast presented themselves to me through various channels – through email, or previous shows, by accident, via text message, via facebook, awkward conversations – and as they appeared all was made obvious and I thought ‘but of course s/he should do this piece, of course!’ I offered the pieces – and each slotted into place – falling in love with their monologue and their writer.

The rehearsal spaces were pulled together from benevolent theatre managers – Luke Rogers, Phil Spencer, Simon Wellington.

The props presented themselves for free or cheap (with the exception of bananas for Ned Manning’s piece).

Images of gross/scarey things (again, for Ned’s piece) came courtesy of Adelaide’s precocious lady-blogger No Plain Jane.

ISM granted us the space and time in their busy Novemberism schedule.

Over 10 days, (part-time) 7 actors, 7 writers and I pulled together an 80 minute show. It’s true. And all rehearsals squeezed around day jobs and freelance gigs – as I wished, once again, that a benevolent super hero would supply me with enough cash to relieve my 90 hour work week. All rehearsals contained script edits and slices taken and removed and re-shaped.

And appearing out of nowhere a helping hand from my first ever work experience boy (now a man – all grown up and at Acting school at Charles Sturt Uni) Oliver Rynn… and of course the generous donation of an original composition from my better/different half Michal Imielski (who is knee-deep creating a very special site-specific work in Parramatta – more on that later…)

And there was a moment in the show – on the first night – which was the first time the pieces had been performed in the space when one of the actors dried. Completely. Then walked off. An actors (and director’s AND writer’s WORST nightmare.) It was at that moment the room went still and quiet. I called out to the actor, then asked the audience to show their love and support and their friendliness- and the room erupted in applause. Absolute proof in the generosity and kindness of audiences. The bravery of actors. And why I love live performance.

There are certain projects and certain people I have worked with that inspire you to want to do more, try more, work more, be more – be braver, smarter, better – conquer the world. This was one of those projects, containing a multitude (15 in total) of those people. To whom I am grateful for their generosity and talent.

I Contain Multitudes
Narcissus by Hilary Bell, performed by Felix Jozeps

iSpiderman by Noelle Janaczewska, performed by Stephen Wilkinson

Ariadne by Verity Laughton,performed by Josipa Draisma

The World’s Tiniest Monkey by Vanessa Bates, performed by Madeleine Jones

A Cleansing Force by Donna Abela, performed by Melinda Dransfield

Sex-Ed by Ned Manning, performed by Jennifer White

A Child Into the World by Catherine Zimdahl, performed by Matt Charleston

The process was wonderful – the playwrights and actors so generous and vigilant and sensitive to the work and each other. And what astounds me is just how amazing the energy and passion of artists is – that we made that show – and it was good.

And only a couple of handfuls of people saw it – as happens sometimes in a small venue – but sometimes you need to do a pleasure project which ignites and inspires and invigorates and challenges you. All of you. And for me, this was that pleasure project. And so now?

To exhale.

then…

Inhale the smell of lilies in my apartment… and dream fresh dreams.

If there is one thing I know for certain, it is that Christmas is one of the most difficult days of the year. The lead up is nearly unbearable – constant glitter and sparkles and fairylights and images of a poor but happy Jewish family nursing a blonde boy lying in straw, or worse – a rosy cheeked Coca-cola Santa winking with his all-knowing judgement. It’s a stressful time of year. And to be honest, I don’t like it.

Luckily, the latest offering from Phil Spencer’s pen (or printer cartridge) is not Christmas Day – it’s the day that washes up afterwards, which is designed as a day of washing-up the Christmas dinner plates – Boxing Day.

First the disclaimer – this was one of the first scripts I read for the very first sets of Off The Shelf in 2009. I had read the script and had no idea who Phil Spencer and Scarlet McGlynn were – but they applied together and I was on the hunt for plays to develop/ give space to when I was kicking around Queen Street Studio. I read the small section, based on a newspaper article and knew immediately that Phil had talent. I made a call, and shocked by Phil’s scottish accent – I offered them some time and space. I attended some of Scarlet and Phil’s meetings – watched them spread out the wide white sheets of butchers paper over the tarquet flooring of Studio 14 – and watched them shuffle and scamper around the papers. They were bursting with ideas, talking fast and alot, colliding into what they thought the play was about and what it could be. They stared at me. I told them to keep going – they had plenty of time. Plenty. Before long, Boxing Day had some time at STC in 2009 (Picked up by Polly Rowe who attended the OTS showing) and then at NORPA in 2010. Since 2009 I have worked with them both on and off – Brand Spanking New, Stories from the 428, Blueprint, Cut & Paste etc so I know where they’re coming from. And now I am honoured to be amongst the blue lit faces watching this fully formed story. And I am nothing short of astounded by the work and talent of Phil and Scarlet. Astounded.

The story is fairly simple and feels familiar – for those who are reading this who haven’t yet gone to the show who hunger for more spoilers – you can check out Jason Blake’s review here http://www.smh.com.au/entertainment/theatre/review/stage/boxing-day-20110916-1kdow.html

I’ve had a couple of days to let this play sit with me and moments return to me throughout my day – Freya chasing cheerios around in her breakfast bowl, whilst she bargains with Nan… an awkward Poppy overly enthusiastic and then crippled by shyness in front of an imaginary cameraman… a father squinting into the flicker of a TV screen as his daughter looks on adoringly… the ceremony of Christmas crackers… the heartwrenching sob of a ten year old girl who is finally, finally held by her father…

On an elegantly designed Old Fitz Stage (Set and costumes by Rita Carmody) silky white sand arcs around the space and a white-washed wall like the bleached retaining wall of a headland. The ceiling is hung with beautiful bulbs, like that of a Christmas tree, but for us, a twinkling design by Christopher Page.

We first meet Freya (Holly Austin) with her best friend Poppy (Annie Byron who also plays Nan) directing the ever-fun childhood game of “funerals.” But this makes sense in more than one way – children are somewhat fascinated by death – and perhaps this fascination is amplified in Freya since her mother’s death. Now she is living with her maternal grandmother while her dad is away, working on an oil rigg. As Freya (Holly Austin) is busy waiting for her father (Alan Flower) as only a ten year old can – with a series of what ifs and wanderings – which quickly turn into terminal illness – and then to instant recovery.

I laugh at the familiarity of it all. Of the banter and the quips that bounce and bounce-back. I watch as Freya wheels and deals, is hopeful, then strategic – and I love her for her perseverence and her creativity. And I wonder how it is that so many of us start out feeling the possibility of things – and then we let them slip away. I laugh at the one liners, keenly carved. I laugh at the wit and the word play. I laugh at the terrible jokes…

You could be forgiven for getting the impression from this resposnse that this is a comedy. This isn’t a comedy.

But there is something else… a sense of quiet aching nostalgia? A wistfulness?

There is something deeper afoot here.

It’s a dramatic play, with clowning elements, with comedic moments – but this isn’t a comedy in the light entertainment sense -there is nothing flippant or flighty or feel-good about this play. It’s more than that. It is weightier, meatier, more solid than that. But don’t get the wrong impression – it’s not earnest or overly dark or overly “clever.”

Spencer’s script strikes the balance beautifully – we listen because we want to hear what’s next. It’s the way he handles the sound of words that makes his writing special. It’s not of the stilted, jarring interchanges that are popular in new theatre writing. There is something natural, something transparent and yet something poetic. Listen to the monologues of Nana and you’ll hear what I mean.

This of course only one part of the picture – McGlynn has given a dream cast room to move and breathe and feel and be in this play. She has set the conditions for play and playfulness – for authentic interchange. Annie Byron, Alan Flower, Holly Austin – each imbuing their roles with beautiful and complex detail. How can we not want more for them all? How can we not want to see what happens next? The challenge for a director of new work is to serve the play, serve the story to the audience without getting in the way – and McGlynn has handled this with great evenness, generosity and consistency.

It’s a tender parable not to forget the ones we love, and not to forget to show them we are there.

I urge you to see this – because as you see more of TinShed’s work evolve and flourish -you’ll want to be the one to say you saw their first show.

And you know what, I reckon you’ll have a good time at the theatre. It’s everything a good night out should be – entertaining, funny, poignant, moving and fun. Check it out.

In the post-traumatic haze of Trapture – an hour or so later – I ventured into the land of new works in development at the Old Fitz. I am without a program – I don’t know how I missed out but I did – and so this is not really a review or a response more of an FYI for the new work hunters who couldn’t make it along…

Cut and Paste advertised as “an evening of theatrical scraps” is an opportunity for writers (and theatre makers) to throw up and out their ideas/drafts/scribbling/earnestly worked(and reworked) scenes onto a supportive audience.

I have also had the benefit of being a Cut and Paste playwright – and perhaps I will again – but it is a pleasure and a privilege to attend – knowing that its all a test, some of its a game and some of it is strategic marketing (which is not a bad thing at all).

On this occasion I was there in support of Sarah Hodgetts and David Adlam – a duo I would gladly recommend to anyone and everyone to have the kind of unique comic genius and creativity that only comes around once every so often… and I wasn’t disappointed. For those who saw the Cauliflower Homicide at the Sydney Fringe last year (or even in Tasmania – home state of Sarah and David) – you’ll have already fallen in love with their sweet and bumbling, awkward ferocity. I think they are great… and I can’t wait to see more.

Always a delight to hear Jessica Bellamy’s work – for those devoted to Brand Spanking New (2008 and 2009) you may recall her sweet and winsome romantic comedies – and post her graduation from NIDA’s play writing course, Bellamy hasn’t lost her touch for language or quirk – but perhaps presents a slicker, more sophisticated package of idea and theme in her new play SPROUT (Due for production at the Fitz later this year)… also worth a look…

Curated by Phil Spencer and Zoe Norton Lodge – I recommend all the talent truffle hunters get along to check out the next one – scheduled for August perhaps… I’m sure you’ll find something to delight/write home about.

Since April, I have been reading, researching, approaching playwrights… It’s what I spend most of my time thinking about… I talk to them, I read plays, I see plays, I hang out at playwriting courses… I see readings, I hold readings… all in the name of BRAND SPANKING NEW.

Brand Spanking New has developed over it’s three years… and the spirit and the structure remains the same- this is not a competitive short play festival. There are no “prizes”- being in, working on a beautiful, surprising, tender, challenging play with a playwright who dreams big, feels more, hopes unwaiveringly- is truly the real prize. The plays are housed on one set, linked with one sound design, and are considered a suite of plays. I approach directors, directors approach me- I spend my spare hours in coffee shops talking to directors, hearing what they want, what they love, what they believe and why they want to work on new work…. I gather the team of designers, crew, coordinators, the project rolls along…

There are two ways to be included in Spankers if you are a playwright- 1. If you are established, I write to you and I offer you a meagre sum of money and say “I love your work… and this is why… I will programme you what ever you write- write what you want” And you either say “I’m busy, not now, Gus” or you say “I’ll try to rustle up something, when’s the due date? OK, leave it with me…” and I sit and wait. I chew my nails. I do some baking. I try to think about other things….
or
2. I send out an email through the New Theatre, this site, my email list, my friends that say -”hey I heard you write… if you want to apply to Spankers please fill in this form, write me a play, and I’ll have a read and see what I reckon.” And then I wait nervously, hoping writers want to submit something… I chew my nails. I sit. I wait. I send little wishes out to the world that says, “I can’t wait to find the next great writer.”

Risk and optimism- the best way to be. Adrenilin.

This year- The established/approached writers said yes… and I was joyfully flooded by writers who approached me. Then the reading (which took 3 weeks)… the emails, the phone calls… the shortlist arrived… and now the list of writers and directors is ready.

The team is ready- most writers & directors know their pairing- and there are a few more to come… I am the match maker. And it gives me grand and great joy to see the great minds, big hearts articulate why they love the pieces they want… I love the conversation- I love the feeling of when I also get my writer- it feels like I have won the lottery… it’s thrilling. I love it.

The next thing is the auditions- starting next weekend: details are below: I’d love to see you there…

NEW THEATRE PRESENTS

Julia Lenton
Brand Spanking New 2010
Production Coordinator
0410 748 039
julia.ann.lenton@gmail.com

Last Saturday night, under a clear dark blue sky, fifty people stood on the street in Chippendale, waiting for the latest showing at Queen Street Studio to start. Busy talking amongst themselves, it took a while for the audience to notice the elephant walking towards them- holding a sign which said:

“4am”

and another that said

“Follow Me”

We made our way en masse under the roller door of Studio 10- into a new world. Or a familiar world re-invented by the artists within.

I have been working with Queen Street Studio since early 2009. Queen Street Studio is a member-based, non-profit organisation which provides studio space run by artists for artists and is a response to the lack of affordable and appropriate space for artists in Sydney to practise their craft. The studios are managed by local artists Sam Chester (Choreographer) and James Winter (Theatre Director) who are supported by a Board of Management made up of industry peers. The organisation manages FraserStudios; a new multi-disciplinary art space for Frasers Property. Located at 10-14 Kensington Street, Chippendale (3-minute walk from Central Station), the FraserStudios facility includes: Studio 10: Space for meetings/seminars/launches/arts-business, Studio 12: Non-commercial exhibition space for visual artists, Studio 14: Rehearsal studio for performing artists and very soon to be opened, the freshly re-floored/renovated Heffron Hall. (By the way- if you want to get an exclusive invite to the Heffron Hall opening, send a donation towards the renovations to :http://www.queenstreetstudio.com/support.html and be a part of history!)

In addition to providing affordable rehearsal space, Queen Street Studio produces training programs for Sydney’s independent performing arts community as well as residency programs for both the performing and visual arts sectors, Supported by the City of Sydney. Blueprint to is the latest addition to Queen Street Studio’s programs to support emerging artists and was designed in response to groups of devisors sending in applications to Off the Shelf- Queen Street Studio’s script Development hothouse. I felt that the devisors needed their own mini residency- to test ideas, to focus on developing relationships with other artists.

Though out the residency artists were mentored by TK Pok who has a huge amount of experience in the development of devised work. For me it was really important to offer the artist a “phone a friend”/ out side eye option, should they need it – to provide them with additional support during the creative process- and also to remind them- that a showing is not a make or break, it is not the end point of anything- it is a beginning just as much as it is a deadline. The three groups were left to their own devises and resources to make something in the space… and the they did- three pieces emerged- distinctly different- utterly unique and all three embracing spontaneity and reacting to the space.

The residency encouraged artists to apply with a view of creating a site specific devised work at FraserStudios. They could choose from Studio 10, 12 or 14- and had to write a proposal outlining their ideas and process. Open to groups and individual performers from all backgrounds and disciplines, Blueprint aieds to provide emerging artists with time and space to develop their practise and artistic enquiry. More information about the program can be found on the Queen Street Studio website:
http://www.queenstreetstudio.com/blueprint-residency.html

Here’s a little summary of the works:

In Studio 10: ‘Ebony and…’
Through our month long residency we started to play around with a few ideas that came out of our response to the studio space, as well as additional secondary source material that was brought into the room during rehearsals. We have experimented with how movement, text, photography and sculpture can interplay to create a piece of live performance in this specific site. What you will see tonight is a fragment of what may go on to be developed into a durational multi-site specific work in the years to come.
Artists: Scarlet McGlynn, Phil Spencer, Brooke Robinson, Gemma O’Nions, Glenn Judd

Studio 12: Have you ever wanted?
The project will be an opportunity for artists Huw Lewis and Jacqui O’Reilly to explore an interdisciplinary enquiry, expanding the limits of particular fields of practice. A ten-minute performance will be devised from this exploration. Two sensibilities, male and female, and the traction of psychosocial engagement will inspire themes implicit in the works. These themes will include desire, rejection, ego and apathy. A range of ‘real time’ preparatory explorations, based on exercises learnt from Rosie Dennis at her Permaculture Workshop in 2009, will form part of the creative process of the project. Designing sound parameters will also be involved to treat vocals used in the performance. The use of masks and costumes will be explored in the rehearsal space.
Artists: Jacqui O’Reilly & Huw Lewis

Studio 14: Discarnate
‘Discarnate’ explores the latent sounds of the historic Queen St Studios building through the metaphor of ghosts. We were to adopt the personas of ‘mediums’ that would listen, channel and record sounds manifest by our presence and actions in the site. The passivity of listening soon gave way to a desire for action, to create rhythm, melody, and even suggest at narrative. In a cyclical structure, action is recorded via its sound trace, which is then overwritten by present action. Initial action exists as its trace, but contends with subsequent traces that accumulate in a multitudinous history speaking all at once of the past from the point of the present. The title ‘Discarnate’ is contradictory, as the piece is generated through the bodily action of performers, yet fitting in referring to the two-fold definition of performance as both present action and it’s subsequent existence through its traces. The aesthetics of the work were influenced by the industrial history of the building and the horror genre
Artists: Amy Wilson & Megan Garrett Jones

The Old Fitzroy Hotel theatre (aka The Fitz) is a much loved Sydney Independent Theatre. Full of its own charms and challenges as a venue- but one of the true champions of new Australian work. Programmed by Leland Keane and with dedicated team of practitioners (Lucinda Gleeson and Phil Spencer- this is a nod in your direction) running the company. There is something grungy, urgent and fun about heading to the theatre… and this year, I think I have attended this theatre more than any other. Primarily because I am keen to support writers- and it is a great space for practitioners to come together and forge new work in front of an audience. There have been excellent Fringe- transplants this year: namely The Chronic Ills of Robert Zimmerman aka etc and Death In Bowengabbie by Caleb Lewis… and a couple of more wild and experimental shows (you know the ones I am talking about). Anyway- it’s a great venue and I am a fan.

The Schelling Point, written by Ron Elisha, is a portrayal of acrobatic logic when men are faced with love and/or war. Laced with a preoccupation of chance or likeliness- a logician, Tom Schelling advises a robust and forthright President Kennedy on international relations and nuclear strategy. We are brought into the lives of two sets of men, who’s lives inexorably overlap. One set- the President and his men, the other Stanley Kubrick and his men. Both men are focussed and driven- and have their failings/misadventures with women… at the centre of the story is really the grand and time honoured tradition of “the science of reasoning.” Calculated, methodical, and at times morally challenging, the approach taken is really a sequence of measured “if … then… ” statements. At times a wonderful knot in one’s brow is formed by the search to unpick the possibilities of the knotted guesswork- and what is resoundingly sweet about this process is the hope/faith or committed-ness of those pursuing the thought/possibility- that there is an answer. That there is a way to navigate one selves through the maze and the possibilities raised in a variety of logical forms.

This is a handsome production- generously wrangled by director Sarah Goodes, the set looks fantastic- the costumes are great (especially the dresses of Miss Lauren La Rouge)- over all design by Marissa Dale- Johnson is impressive and effective. Goodes has also cast extraordinary talent for this production: David Callan (Peter Sellars), Daniel Cordeaux ( George C Scott), Jonathan Elsom (as Robert McNamara), Andrew Henry (Tom Schelling) Jamie McGregor (John F Kennedy), Marshall Napier (as Stanley Kubrick)- WOW! They attack the scenes with great guts and confident American accents/ impersonations and are serenaded by Miss Lauren la Rouge between scenes. The cast are magnificent, I particularly enjoyed Andrew Henry’s performance as he managed to make sense of and spontaneously deliver some complex premises in a charming and succinct manner- no mean feat! And David Callan’s moment of truth speech as Sellars is particularly poignant and beautifully delivered. This all makes for an attractive, fun night out, for sure. It’s entertainment of a yesteryear flavour.

And perhaps that’s it’s strength and why it will appeal to some. Those who are fans of Kubrick’s Dr Strangelove, or who are of a certain generation- or those who love a juke-box style musical, will certainly have a good time. However,I must admit that this was not really my taste. I I found much of the play, to be over-written, ideas either over explained- or conversations which didn’t really lead to anything new. Large swathes of misogynistic conversation (for some emblematic of the attitudes of the time, for me a little on the dull and predictable side and lasts too long without anything driving the scene) and stylised /cartoonish characterisations reference a film I am not particularly familiar with- so the jokes were largely lost on me. But I am sure for others who are enthusiasts/fans, it was a hoot to see them enacted these impersonations on stage: it’s just not very deep, or detailed- at best this is farcical variety entertainment, because really the scenes weren’t particularly enlightened or heartfelt- except for the moment I mentioned above from Callan, which seems a glaring inconsistency in the tone of the rest of the play. Largely it is a fairly superficially written bio-play: not much learned, and a lot assumed by the writer. Unfortunately because of this, my sympathy for all the characters powerfully diminished – they all seemed utterly hopeless- but not in a cute, endearing way- but a “if- this– is– what– powerful– men– who– run– the– world– are– really– like–, heaven– help– us– what– a– bunch– of– selfish– losers” kind of way.

Not so much a play, as a revue- brightly delivering complex logical theory, songs, politics and a few women-hating gags. It’s tricky stuff as The Schelling Point assumes a lot of prior knowledge- and is really written for fans of the era, or fans of Kubrick or Sellars or Dr Strangelove. None of which I am, so I guess, best declare that “not really my thing, but exquisitely designed, beautifully produced and skillfully directed.” If you are so inclined, this is probably the show to take your Dad to for father’s day.

Though it is not really my thing- but it is beautifully done and well worth a look if you are keen on a light(ish) night out.

An exciting time for those who are brave enough to throw themselves into the big, deep unknown.

It’s an exciting time for those teams who have been in rehearsal the last 4 weeks, refining and developing their scripts for the first taste of the Sydney Fringe… in the Off the Shelf showing this weekend…

The announcement of a new Sydney Fringe Festival has been a welcome catalyst for creative conversation. For many artists in Sydney, a Fringe festival so close to home is a daunting prospect- for some, there is now a home for what has previously been a journey to Adelaide or Melbourne. Queen Street Studio have been quick to support the artists of the Sydney local area create work/begin to create/ develop work for the Fringe festival through OFF THE SHELF.

Designed for emerging artists (typically that means artists in their first 5 years of practice) to explore a section of text based theatre in a safe a nurturing environment, Off the Shelf is for writer and director teams to develop their working relationship, develop a common language or approach to work, test/experiment/develop a section of a larger work- and then offer it to an invited audience of peers and industry professionals for feedback.

It never ceases to amaze me the amount of energy and ambition people have for their craft. All writers and directors who send in their work, I have found to be remarkable and driven people. I am always honoured to receive a script- it is always thrilling- as I have said before new work is like a treasure hunt!

This occasion the four writer/director teams were selected, not only on the potential of the script to tell the story- but on the strength/conviction of the directors and writers passion to have the work produced- after all this particular development has a fringe focus. This is not a development for development sake- this is about getting work out there- exposing it to the public. There is a tradjectory which aims for audience… and to writers and actors and to directors the audience is a dangerous thing.

BUT.

The audience isn’t dangerous. The audience is not some unknown, nasty, judgemental, insatiable other… the audience is a group of people who want to be entertained and transformed- they want to love your work. They want to have a good time. No one walks into a theatre, pays money so they are made to feel awkward, sad, bad or regretful- they come to the theatre to have fun (sometimes rigorous and challenging types of fun) but they want to be engaged and delighted, challenged, suprised and excited- all in differing doses- in different ways.

On Friday night will be the first time all the writers, directors and actors will come together to meet… previously the writers and directors had a meeting- now we have the actors… and I can’t wait for them to see each others work! Sunday is when they show a segment of their work to an outside audience. And it’s the first taste of the Sydney Fringe Festival which has embraced the idea of “suck it and see”- this will be a bit of a “suck it and see” for artists and the test audience- the peers!

The projects are:
Sexy Tales of Paleontology
written by Patrick Lenton
directed by Anne-Maree Magi
with Lucy Goleby and Felix Jozeps

Peace at Last
written by John AD Fraser,
directed by Lizzie Doyle
with Phil Spencer, Scarlet McGlynn and Greg Eccleston

If you are keen to check it out this Sunday- drop me an email and I’ll let you know if I have enough room.

In eight days time, Sidetrack Theatre will be hosting the first week of Stories from the 428. In under 3 months, two groups (a cluster perhaps?) of 8 writers will have created two full length works – which have been auditioned for by 150 actors, rehearsed by 8 directors and finally staged at Sidetrack Theatre, in the Addison road centre…

Largely this has been a playground for theatre practitioners: writers- given permission to write hatever they want (to a maximum of 12 minutes) and know that whatever they offer, will be staged. Directors- given actors, time, space and scripts with which to work. Actors- given a chance at being a part of an exclusive Australian premiere. Designers- given the chance and the challenge to create for 32 vignettes…

Over the past 6 weeks, I have been asked “where did the idea for this project come from?” and “what’s it about”… to which I take a deep breath and reply- community.

It seems as though the more tools we have to keep in touch- mobile phones, texting, email, facebook, internet- the harder it is to feel well and truly connected to people. As the tidal wave of technology swells, and the immediate heat of someone else’s presence subsides and is substituted for the blue glow of a computer screen… However- it is a truth that I hold with both fists- that ultimately all humans- regardless of faith, background and politics yearns to be loved and understood. We need each other- we want to be around and with each other- because it gives us something to respond to. Something to think about. Something to learn. People seek to teach and seek to be taught by each other- we yearn for a connection or a connectedness that reassures and reminds us- we are not alone.

To best explore this notion, this project has a two fold approach-
Firstly, it seeks to create a collegiate space within which writers and directors work together, sharing cast and resources. It seeks to create a realm wherein all crew are valued for what they bring to the community of artists- and a keen awareness that without anyone person working on a show- we are weaker. 428 would be nothing without Gavin Roach as sponsorship coordinator- it wouldn’t be lit without Miles Thomas, nor would people be rehearsing and scheduled without Alison Murphy-Oates. There would be movement but no sound with Jeremy Silver, No one would have an image to associate with it- if it wasn’t for Karolina, no one would have heard of it without Julia Lenton… without PJ Gahan at the helm- I don’t know what we would be doing… and without the tenacity and designs from Gemma-Lark Johnson- the stage would not be set. And without Leah McGirr- no proof that any of this ever happened. This is the crew and creatives that have created a community- taking care of each other, the show and the to-do lists.

Secondly, this is a show which reaches out into the community to say, that local is wonderful, inspiring- that the everyday is important and sublime- that theatre isn’t for the lucky, the rich nor the recent art school graduates- it is for everyone- and it is as simple and honest as telling a story about where we live- how we feel- what we think- what we yearn for- what frightens us- what annoys us… this is a snapshot of the community which thrives along the artery of the 428 bus route.
This is a reaction to the life and times of where we are- it is a reflection, a response, a fantasy and a re-telling… which says to all – “you are not alone, you are not invisible, you are apart of my community whether you know it, want it, like it, or not.”
Week 1 is stunningly beautiful, quirky and surprising- check out the work from:

The writers: Vanessa Bates, Kit Brookman, Rebecca Clarke, Sime Knezevic, Ned Manning, Brooke Robinson, Alison Rooke and Phil Spencer.

The Directors: Zoe Carides, Glenn Hazeldine, Augusta Supple, Ian Zammit.

The Cast: Anna Lise Phillips, Rob Jago, Stephen Peacocke, Emma Jones, Jan Langford-Penny, Brendan Hawke, Leo Domigan, Felix Jozeps, Bridgette Sneddon, Julian Ramundi, Suz Mawer, Amy Kersey, Jovana Miletic, Kailah Cabanas, Felix Gentle, Adam Demos and Helena Stamoulis

Go to the theatre- embrace your community- experience something completely new and unexpected- go on… can’t be as bad as waiting for someone to “like” something on your facebook page…

It’s true that I spend a good deal of my time looking for, creating projects for, promoting new writing talent. In the last 3 years I have created 3 independent projects (Metamor/phases, Brand Spanking New, Stories from the 428) and a script development hothouse (Off the Shelf) culiminating 64 opportunities for writers/directors/actors to develop/practice/ showcase their art. In the middle of all of this- working a full time job, maintaining my relationship and writing for myself and for a company in Canada when I can. I’ve tried to create opportunities that I would want – places of experimentation, colleagiate regard as opposed to competition, places where work can be written, developed and produced within a year (yes- how novel!). How delighted I was when Phil Spencer contacted me about putting a little something forward for Cut and Paste!

According to the blurb “Cut & Paste is an evening of short plays, theatrical scraps and script-in-hands, brought to you by some of Sydney ’s most exciting theatre makers. This month’s line up includes Lexi Freiman with Pip Smith, Talya Rubin, John AD Fraser, Augusta Supple, Brooke Robinson, Sean Barker and Phil Spencer.” Last year’s cut and paste session inluded work by Caleb Lewis, Scarlet McGlynn, Sean Barker and Phil Spencer… and Phil has spruiked the idea to me as a testing ground- a kind of “balls to the walls” theatrical showing- rough, ready and high energy.

My offering is called “Boxed Carnation” and is a short monologue that looks at the world of Internet dating. I am a firm believer in writers not directing their own work- and I have enlisted the directorial help of Gavin Roach (who I met in 2008, and who was my Assistant Director for Brand Spanking New 2009) and the acting talents of Lucy Goleby. I have attended a rehearsal, tweaked the script… but really the test of a work is in the watching.

For those free on a Sunday evening the 21st Feb.. make your way to The Old Fitz Hotel for a lemonade and a laksa and experience some very new works from a diverse range of practitioners… you might meet some people, see a new idea or even see the start of something great!

CUT & PASTE
SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 21st @ 8.00pm
THE OLD FITZROY HOTEL
$9 on the door. First in best dressed!