Uncle Vanya

I’ve been catching up on the the last couple of episodes of Rake and whilst watching Richard Roxburgh, it occurred to me that I really should tell you how wonderful it was to see him on stage as Uncle Vanya, for STC, last week. Interestingly, my mum (and others) didn’t agree; she took issue with (Director) Tamas Ascher‘s whole vaudeville-esque approach and is of the opinion that something (or someone) akin to Roxburgh’s Rake character, Cleaver Greene, would make a more likable fellow in the title role in Chekhov’s classic play. To me, Roxburgh played a Vanya on the verge (some would say broken already) and shared with us the full gamut of human emotion, winning our sympathy early…well, clearly, not my mother’s sympathy! But that’s ok! Because this is Theatre! This is Art! And we are each entitled to our own opinions!

Interesting to read, as I do, some other opinions. Let’s look at them later, shall we? The overall impression I got from this production was that it was reinterpreted and staged to entertain, rather than to educate, a new Chekhov audience. This was, I think, Chekhov’s original intent (the humour is very much embedded in the text) and has been forgotten by various companies (and universities) over the decades, who have given us the impression that the classics should be highly regarded, carefully considered and deeply felt, rather than recognised, appreciated and enjoyed. I was so glad to see (IMHO) STC treat it as a gift to be enjoyed.

My opinion about Cate Blanchett hasn’t changed. I admire and adore her. She is surely one of the most consummate actors of our time (this, when Judi Dench has been named best stage actor of all time). Her beauty is incandescent, her voice is sublime and her collective skills – employed seemingly effortlessly – to portray even the slightest hint of emotion, both on stage and on screen, cannot be contested. As Yelena, Ms Blanchett was beguiling and SO beautifully bored. In fact, I have decided that it is my ambition to be that beguiling AND that beautifully bored one day. Also, I would like, one day, to casually and seemingly effortlessly fall backwards through an open doorway without causing any injury or humiliation to myself or to anybody else whatsoever. Just saying.

It was a treat to see John Bell as the Professor, Jacki Weaver as Nanny and Anthony Phelan as Telegin. In fact, Mr Phelan reminded me of a delightful, gentle friend, with whom I used to work, so tender and amusing was he. It was a disappointment to me that Hayley McElhinney, with her long list of credits, including the honour of being one of the 12 contracted to The Actors Company, completely lost the depths and layers and contours of the final monologue, which I have always loved as it is written and loathed as it is delivered, in that classically-trained, dark and dismal, typically university-interpreted Checkhov voice; empty of the hope that underlies the acceptance of the working poor that life does indeed go on and thus, work must also, quite simply GO ON. There was the hard determination in her voice but none of the subtle, gentle joy and love and light simultaneously, which I have always felt needed by the end of Chekhov, in order to let us leave the theatre looking forward to the next day rather than dreading it. And I wanted her to have loved and lost and retained something. I’m thinking of Pippin’s Grand Finale. Not because I think every show should finish with flash pots and glorious death but with the hope that there are still the simple joys to be found in every day, if only we look for them, even in the face of despair. And after her tumultuous journey, I expected more…contrast.

To put Cate Blanchett on stage with Hugo Weaving was pretty much a stroke of genius. For me, the relationship between them MADE this production. What I want to see in any production is the connection between the characters and for each, a clear journey. The connection between Blanchett and Weaving was pure magic. Each had a journey of epic proportions, made up of the most minute detail. To join them for 4 acts meant a masterclass for actors, for the cost of a coveted ticket.

The tickets were booked a year in advance, as part of an annual sojourn to Sydney “to see Cate”, which, each year, involves my mum, my sister, various friends from editing and publishing as well as a bunch of other friends, who are now known in literary circles at least, as The Family Law.

We did not get (we did not try to get) anywhere near Oprah while we were there but we did spend hours wandering through Annie Leibovitz‘s life, at the MCA, which was inspiring and incredibly moving. In a room holding a series of photographs of her dying father and another series of her dying long-time partner, Susan Sontag, I was moved to tears and unable to look away…

This Vanya failed to stir in me the same emotions. Despite this, I loved it. For me, that is great theatre. For Jason Blake, of The Sydney Morning Herald, same (read his review here). Not so, for some of his readers and these are the comments I find fascinating. Hint: read Blake’s review first…

Then read…

Couldn’t disagree more with this review. The production was a travesty of Chekhov’s work.

The adaptation, with indulgent Shakespeare references to boot, managed to lose all the depth of the Russian original replacing it with a Carry On! version full of slapstick. All the beautiful monologues washed over the audience and many of us left feeling gravely disappointed. Checkov should give you a kick in the guts by the end but all the beautiful monologues washed over to nothing and I left the theatre feeling gravely disappointed.

Bill Peters | Sydney – November 15, 2010, 8:29AM

And…

Some sanity – thanks Bill Peters!

I sadly feel as though many theatre makers are guilty of grossly underestimating the sophistication of their audiences and therefore feel the need to ‘panto’ shows up. You do not have to be a theatre buff (which I am not) to realise when you are being condescended to and when this occurs walking through the liminal door that good theatre (so I am told) should open is next to impossible.

The sycophants in the crowd irked me no end. It is as though they are all playing the part of theatre goers, all in on this bizzare conceit instead of ever truly engaging with the work. My relief upon leaving the theatre earned my sanity five stars!

Chris Hanrahan | Sydney – November 17, 2010, 3:51PM

And…

Embarrassingly, those ‘sycophants’ in the crowd were my fellow students from NIDA.

They were laughing up at every opportunity so people would look at them.

I too was bored with this show. If anyone saw the production from Maly Theatre a couple of years ago you’ll know what I mean. That production had me in tears, digging around in my bag for tissues, a cloth, anything.

I think everyone’s a bit starstruck.

NIDA Grad | Sydney – November 19, 2010, 8:07AM

 

I was determined to get over my starstruckedness because, let’s face it, I’m a forum bunny and you can imagine how excited I was about being there on the NwtA (Night With The Actors). I actually had a question! So I asked it! I asked, after a lot of other fussy queries about the inclusion of Shakespeare and about working with a non-english speaking director, about the company’s general approach to text and to working with each other. It was was important to me to verbalise what we have been getting nearer to defining as XS Entertainment‘s approach to our own creative process. Who better to answer than the Co-Artistic Director of the Company, Cate Blanchett?! She said, “Text is the bedrock. And then, as actors, we each bring to it what we will.” And I am so glad it is as simple as that!

After, of course I was totes inspired to spend a heap of money at the bookstore downstairs while my sister and co posed for pics outside by the poster…

I’m finally posting this on Christmas Eve and I hope Christmas and New Year’s Eve are wonderful for you. Poppy and I have just watched It’s A Wonderful Life and it really is the ultimate reminder of the season.

Next week, keep up with what’s happening out at waterlogged Woodfordia by following XS Entertainment on Twitter!

I Can Do That!

“Youth Theatre” is the bane of my life. It hooked me at 15 years of age, it kept me busy on stage and off until I was 30, and now, er…with another birthday coming up, it wants to take over my life again. But to Youth Theatre, I say NO! There are others! The grown ups have me now! I will coach you but I will not direct your productions! Unless, of course,  you pay me and then I will happily direct anything your young, enthusiastic, untainted hearts desire.

Please note: Youth Theatre is different to “Theatre for Young People“. The latter enjoys (a little) government funding and (some) support in (some) schools and venues.

In the Australia Council for the Arts Review of Theatre for Young People in Australia (December 2003), the Executive Summary states:

Among other factors, early exposure to positive arts experiences correlate to later interest in and engagement with the arts. It is one of the reasons that Theatre for Young People (TYP) is so significant, why the nature and quality of contact with this work matters. For some, the rationale for engaging with young audiences, and supporting other specialist theatre companies to do so, is enlightened self-interest—the cultivation of tomorrow’s audiences. But there is an equally cogent argument—that children and young people are entitled to the same cultural rights as adults. They are not the audiences of tomorrow, they are the audiences (and participants) of today. On this basis, the same resources should be devoted to TYP and other means of providing access to quality theatre experiences as are devoted to adult, mainstream companies.

About one-third of Australian school children take part in organised cultural activities outside of school hours, according to a survey conducted by the Australian Bureau of Statistics in 2006. Growing up on the Sunshine Coast, theatre was just that other thing; the organised activity we did if we were not doing one or most of the following:

• Swim Club
• Surf Club
• Netball Club
• Rugby League Club
• AFL Club
• Soccer Club
• Little Athletics
• Ballet, Jazz and Tap
• Gymnastics
• Callisthenics’s

It’s a very sporty place.

N.B. The Callisthenics’s kids never really fitted in either.

There was only one place to go – if you really wanted to be taken seriously as a performer – and that was BATS (Buderim Amateur Theatrical Society). Those were the days! We would get hot chips, tomato sauce and tubs of Homer Hudson ice cream from the shop on the corner (the site is now home to a fancy French restaurant, a salon and a couple of old lady boutiques), which we shared outside, lying about on the grass, just as we did later, at uni…hmmm. There was nothing better for young voices! And faces! And figures!

We had cool teachers, who let us finish our ice cream inside. It was fun. And I learned early that you didn’t have to face the audience to say a line, which was a point of contention at school. (At school, I also argued about beginning sentences with capital letters. Thank you, Veny. And the existence of God. Thank you, Lutherans). We gained confidence, friends from other schools, regular performance opportunities and some of us even got our homework done in between rehearsals! We really did have some fun at BATS.

Some might say nothing has changed. I would say a hell of a lot has changed, however; BYTE (Buderim Youth Theatre of Excellence), based at the same hall in Buderim, run by Robyn Ernst for over 10 years has stayed the popular option. One of those cool teachers of mine, Ian Austin, had this to say, back in the days when he was given a say, about BYTES:

“BYTES offers students from 5-18 professional studio training in acting, dancing and musical theatre with several public performances every year.  This esteemed training ground, enriches and builds talent and perhaps more importantly personal character.  BYTES showcase presentations add the imperative gloss.” Ian Austin Review Sunshine Coast Daily

And he’s right. I get to their shows pretty irregularly and when I do, I see this to be true. Basic character is evident, as is the self-confidence (some might say over-confidence). The kids learn their lines, they deliver them in well-projected voices, they sing mostly in tune (thanks to the talented teaching team, Scott and Libby Gaedtke) and they are always dressed magnificently and lit quite adequately. I am aware that there are other productions throughout each year, which might showcase a wider range of acting ability, however; I haven’t seen any lately and the last one I did get to – I think I mentioned in a post at the time – had cast members blacking up for To Kill a Mockingbird at the same time a production of Miss Saigon went on in Hobart without any Asians in the cast! Just saying! Nevertheless, the productions provide the performance opportunity and the gloss that kids need, to feel the magic of the theatre and to be able to say, when they see something they like and aspire to, “I can do that!”

The Pirates of Penzance was perhaps an odd choice, with so many male roles and – typically – very few males available to fill them. I always loathe girls playing boys unless the context can be updated and we get to enjoy the legalisation of gay marriage for the finale. Obviously this messes with the original book and a particular demographic in the region.

In the show that I saw on Saturday afternoon, the cast featured Brandon Maday (Frederic), Eloise Mueller (Mabel), Robert Steel (Pirate King), Daniel Moray (Major General), Brianna Schlect (Ruth) and Phoebe Sullivan (Police Sergeant). I have to tell you a) I know Eloise and b) Eloise was the stand-out. Her mature vocal work was matched by Brandon’s (and what a relief that was)! The ensemble were enthusiastic and the company clearly enjoyed themselves. And that is really important. Some parents would say that their child’s enjoyment of the activity is the most important thing. But what if that fun, enthusiasm, confidence and the opportunity to perform can be tied in with some basic stagecraft and performance etiquette?

That is precisely what my friend, Mary Eggleston, is doing at SODA (School of Dramatic Arts). She runs classes in Buderim and Coolum and she is really, for youth theatre, the hottest new kid on the block. SODA’s inaugural showcase, on Saturday morning, was testament to Mary’s ability to use original material and the talents of those kids involved. We saw younger students share The Rime of The Ancient Marinater, which is like giving your primary school production of Alice in Wonderland a bit of a Tim Burton slant! It’s not light stuff and the 7 performers handled the text and the context well.

A cast of 16 slightly older students re-told the story of our local lass, Eliza Fraser, as penned by Sue Davis. The material, Figments of Eliza, was originally performed by Mary as part of the NeoGeography project  and it was interesting to hear her voice-over relay some of the story as part of this re-interpretation. And it was a pleasure to hear the familiar qualities of another of Leah Barclay‘s original compositions as their underscore. As well as teaching these students basic stagecraft, voice, movement, discipline and performance etiquette, Mary has encouraged one of the students to develop his technical skills and so Tully Grimley, for this show, became Lighting Designer and Operator.

Mary works with young people in the same way that Sam and I work with adults. I know this because as well as seeing the results in performance, I’ve taken classes for her a couple of times and these kids respond in the same manner. They are keen to perform and even keener to learn everything they can about themselves and the craft along the way. This is perhaps the difference that we are noticing now on the Sunshine Coast. The performers we seem to attract want it all. Those who stay away want just to be recognised for their performances, regardless of the end result. So we play, we have fun and we make up stuff all the time, just like those kids! We also notice what it is that the individuals bring to the ensemble, how they are connecting with themselves and how they are able to connect with others.

Kids who want more than just the gloss of the final performance should check out SODA.

Adults looking for something fun, interesting and a little more challenging should check out Sam Coward’s production of David Williamson’s INFLUENCE for Noosa Arts Theatre.

John Waters as Ziggi Blasko

 

Information Night: Friday December 10th 7pm at Noosa arts Theatre, Weyba Rd, Noosaville

Audition (Workshop): Friday December 17th 7pm at Noosa Arts Theatre, Weyba Rd, Noosaville

Season: April 20th – April 30th 2011

Casting:

Ziggi Blasko – early fifties, talkback radio “shock-jock”
Carmela Blasko – twenty-nine, Ziggi’s second wife, narcissist ballet dancer trying to return to form after childbirth
Vivienne Blasko – seventeen, turns out to be manic depressive
Tony - a taciturn man in his forties
Connie Blasko – forty-seven, social worker
Marko Blasko – dignified Croatian man of eighty-two
Zehra – forty-two, a slim Turkish woman

 

For more information email xsentertainme@gmail.com or check http://noosaartstheatre.org.au

That Just Happened

This time last week, I was swanning around with Robyn Nevin, Paula Duncan, David Field, Ita Buttrose, Bob Ansett, Mikey Robins, Lucy Bell, Ian Roberts, Felix Williamson, Jim Berardo, Daniel MacPherson and Sammy Power. Now, I think I mentioned Shane Bourne in my last post about this and that was me referring to inaccurate, outta date info. Shane was not involved in this version of the show. Sorry to mislead you.

In order to avoid further confusion, by “swanning around” I mean I turned up to The J in Noosa, at 10:45am on Friday, with Aroma’s soy chai latte in hand (yes, I know there is now soy rotting inside of me; shut up), met everybody, including the mastermind behind the whole huge event, the inimitable Ms Tanya Lee of The Corrilee Foundation, took my place on stage next to Dan MacPherson, and we read through the play twice (we stopped for lunch in between readings). And THAT was rehearsal. And THAT was the day. Oh, and I took off to our lovely room at Netanya for a hot tub, then to Rococco’s for Veuve and oysters, before heading back to the theatre for hair and make up.

David Field played two roles during the day – actor and director – and he was awesome in both. In fact, if I didn’t continue to feel the pull to keep getting up on stage, I would happily sit in a studio or in the theatre with stupidly talented people like David and simply absorb his energy and ideas by osmosis. In fact, I have a whole list of these directors. And actors. And authors. And teachers. And leaders. You know, those people in whose presence you would just like to be. Obviously, there is a fine line between being invisible and being super-absorptive-cloth-like in the rehearsal room and um, stalking. So this will be the first David hears of that. Yikes.

As a director, David tends to stand back and let the action unfold. If he (barely) visibly cringes, you know you’re about to be politely interrupted and given a direction like, “Just tone all of that down a bit. Let’s go again and stay right with the script. It’s all there. It’s all in there”, which is easy to say when you have a David Williamson script in hand. It IS all in there and, particularly within a play reading context, the words must win in the end. As a director and as an actor, David Field GETS IT. I love the way he holds the stage, having established his presence on stage and continues to hold your attention – while you hold your breath – waiting for his next line. He doesn’t pull any stunts or lay on anything too thick. He just IS who he has to be to relay the story to the audience (he knows they’re captivated). He is a complete human being and as that, he is totes inspiring for me, at a time when I am working on describing and explaining, what it is we do at XS Entertainment, for our 2011 course descriptions etc. Yes! How excitement! Stay tuned…

I wonder if, even with all of the talk about it in the media being “just” a play reading (and we tried not to say “just”), if people turned up and had to see it to believe it. The actors sitting on stage, books in hand. It doesn’t happen too often on the Sunshine Coast. Except at rehearsals for the full scale productions. And they’re usually closed rehearsals. Did anybody expect to see sets and costumes? I mean, a staged play reading to anybody involved in the theatre indicates that we would actually be moving it a bit. Actually, Felix and I got to move it a lot; the low solid timber table was ideal for our “wrestling” as his uncle, Chris, phrased it the other day, on FM 101.3; “You and Felix got to wrestle quite a bit, didn’t you? Felix is my nephew, you know”. I KNOW. I think I told him, live on air, that Felix can wrestle me anytime he likes. I know. It just came out. We were live, kids; what could I do?!

It was pure joy to watch Robyn Nevin at work (I worked with Robyn Nevin!) I absolutely adore her vocal work especially. It’s that trained voice, isn’t it? Duh. Lovely Lucy Bell has it too (I worked with Lucy Bell!) Cate Blanchett has it too (note to self: work with Cate one day). My mum does not have it, however; Robyn Nevin reminds me of her. Seriously. She looks like my mum. Or, my mum looks like Robyn Nevin. We’ve all said it for years. And it’s true. When I have time to find the pics, I will post portraits of both theatre loving ladies and you shall see for yourselves.

Ian Roberts was totes OTT (it totes worked for him), playing a serial killer who’d never been caught, killing off only those who deserved it, the scum of the earth (bankers, financial advisers…) whilst out on their morning jog, taking down one spear-tackle victim at time. Ita Buttrose, one of the most elegant old-world ladies I have ever had the pleasure of meeting, was a fabulous Zara, delivering the wordiest, funniest monologue in the piece. Paula Duncan was superb, during her brief appearance as the very Christian cleaning lady who came across not just mine and Felix’s characters in a compromising position but also, Lucy’s and Mikey Robbins’ characters in a similarly compromising position. This of course resulted in her securing not one but two holidays in Bora Bora, which the audience LOVED. There are no small parts, kids!

I think I mentioned Dan MacPherson (I worked with Dan MacPherson!) He played the past-it skateboard champ and had his own hilarious little moments, recanting the completely fabricated tales of his success. Dan is one of those soapie stars who truly used the genre (the soap and all those suds) as a solid foundation to take him into the next genre (the grit and guts of crime drama). Dan is no ordinary TV actor. In fact, David Field and Daniel MacPherson have given me a whole new outlook on “TV actors” (being based on the Sunshine Coast, I don’t know many of them, unless I went to uni with them, which I find is often the case because they are all super talented and super gorgeous and their potential for TV was spotted long before they graduated!) so I’ve never doubted their talent as actors, I just didn’t realise they were so passionate about theatrical projects and would, perhaps, like to do more of them. I know David pretty frequently treads the boards in Sydney. So we can probably help out somebody a little closer to home. Dan? I’M LOOKIN’ AT YOU!

The evening was a success. As I hadn’t felt nervous since about 10:44 the same morning, I did only some very minimal jumping around in the wings (and if you’ve seen me in the wings before a show, I hope a) you were not in the audience at the time because it would be appallingly unprofessional of me to be seen at that juncture and b) that you realise I don’t actually JUMP around. It’s more like…little ballet fairy warm-up runs on the spot and sometimes those shivery running legs, you know, like in Flashdance. I’m dead serious. I don’t do jumping around).

I will tell you the secret to, what I hope was a great performance, worthy of being included amongst such esteemed company (as I say, I hope it was, otherwise YOU’RE ALL LIARS), which came from David Field. And later, from Ian McKellar too, the General Manager of The Noosa Longweekend and the instigator of this project happening in Noosa. And it was for some reason, shocking coming from Ian and normal coming from David! They both said something like, “Tonight, vamp it up…slut it up. GO FOR IT.”  SLUT IT UP. That’s right. It’s my new favourite phrase and has, I believe, the potential to be used in many Christmas season contexts coming up. Try it. Try it at the staff Christmas function by shouting to a colleague on the dance floor after six too many drinks after a bad buffet dinner, “That’s it, love; SLUT IT UP!” It will certainly help you to make an impression.

The official post-show party was pretty fun too, these things usually are; we settled on the lounge with Dan’s super-cool chic, Nat, and let the fans and friends (and the wait staff, who were excellent, with their trays of teeny-tiny, love- heart-shaped, mushroom-filled delicacies provided by Splash) come to us.  The unofficial post-post-show party was even more fun but you know, what happens at the post-post-show party stays at the post-post-show party.

Perhaps somebody who was there  and enjoyed the show, will write the unbiased, unassociated post next! I’d like to see that! And I’d like to see photos! I didn’t want to be that girl who stopped to have her picture taken with everybody…that role was clearly reserved for Sammy Power! Love your work, Sammy!

Do check out The Corrilee Foundation. I’ll link it for you later. The next One Night in Emerald City event is to be in Melbourne next year, at The Malthouse (yes, they know I’m available!) but they do a heap of other work right through the year (more on the project that David Field and Miranda Kerr are involved in coming soon). I hope I will have the privilege and the pleasure of working with all of these wonderful people again sometime, in some capacity. And in the meantime, life goes on. As I tweeted the following day, “One day you’re on stage with the likes of Robyn Nevin and the next you’re back in the studio coaching kids!”

As @Dramagirl promptly replied, as she does, “That’s showbiz!”

 

Get Threaded

You may not be familiar with this term. I would like to say I coined it but I know, even before conferring with my good friend, Google, that that would be an outrageous lie. And, anyway, just look at what my good friend Google did find:

Indeed! A local business called…Get Threaded! You can take a look for yourself. N.B. This is NOT where I first experienced the ancient art of threading however, this IS where I’ll be going to from now on because Chermside’s Wink Bar is too pink for me and too far to visit every 4-6 weeks. I will say that it was pretty-pink-convenient to walk by, realise what was going on, walk on into without having made an appointment, and be treated with threading and a tint in just under 12 minutes, between the purchases of Wittner shoes and a Veronika Maine LBD. Look, a girl needs to put her feet up during such a spree and every seat was taken at Shingle Inn…

Also because my extensive research showed 6 mutual friends on Facebook – that’s 6 degrees of separation, kids – between me and Get Threaded,  I thought, “It’s a siiiiiiiiiiiign…

In case you didn’t click on that link right there, here is the NBC story that helped spread the craze in the states. Incidentally, because I know there is NO craze without Oprah’s say-so, I looked for a clip from her show…and it seems there is an opportunity for somebody there…

 

 

Now when I look for my nearest practitioner, I find that these guys are suddenly EVERYWHERE

 

 

This is really important. It’s something your mother probably told you. If not your mother, your best friend or agent or photographer. I should mention that Kurt Sneddon has never offered any tips about brows to me personally but he is acknowledged, when it comes to headshots, as the best in the business and so it goes without saying that if you’re an actor requiring new headshots, which I am, you will do the courtesy of prepping your brows, which I am doing. Only then, will you be truly ready for your close-up, which I will have to be (because it’s booked now) for the 8th of December!

The eyes may be the windows to the soul but the brows frame them. Put simply, if you are in the public eye then you had better have great shaped brows.

Not to mention, it’s not really ever acceptable to sit down to Christmas dinner sporting the unkempt kind. Not even in Australia. Just saying. I mean, you have probably done enough this year already to offend the family.

Below are some examples of undesirable eyebrow shapes. Tragically, there are many more. In fact, there are LISTS of Best and Worst Celebrity Brows. Well, of course there are! In order that we mortals might know better. Try to avoid the following styles or any variations thereof.

 

UNDESIRABLE NO 1

UNDESIRABLE NO 2

 

UNDESIRABLE NO 3

Also, try to avoid pretty much everything you see next. It just won’t work…for you. Miranda Sings has a unique style and though many have tried, there is no one else in the world who can pull it off. Haters, back off. I happen to be a big fan.

 

 

As you can see, eyebrows are difficult to tame. And even more difficult to maintain. In fact, if you’ve ever seen me, or a picture of me, you would know that to be true. I don’t think I’ve ever gotten it quite right. But I’ll tell you one thing…actually, I’ll tell you two things:

1. Apparently, threading was conceived by some ingenious Indian women who did not want to use wax on their sensitive skin. It’s a valid point. After centuries, it’s becoming a growing global trend. It’s efficient, its painless, it’s novel and neat. You should try it.
2. If you do not heed this advice and instead, insist on plucking and ruining your brows (or worse, entrusting them to one who has not yet achieved – and, I dare say, never will – the illustrious title of Eyebrow Designer or Eyebrow Architect), you’d better have a bloody good hairdresser. The fringe will always be in for those with undesirable brows.

To read more about threading, keep an eye (brow) on Nikki Parkinson’s blog Styling You. She tells me she is getting threaded on Friday…

The Second Coming

That’s right. Jesus Christ Superstar is returning. To QPAC. In February. The extended promo (below) is super cool and certainly has the desired effect – it makes even me want to see it again – it is just so super COOL, you know? Who wouldn’t want to see it (whether for the first or second time and indulge – again – in the discussions about it afterwards)?!

If I can be sure that Harvest Rain will rock it up another notch or two, rough up (do I mean rough up? Not really, I mean…complicate) a few of the relationships, sort out Judas’s death and smooth over the story-within-a-story glitch, I might just do that. I love seeing STUFF at all stages of the creative process and this stuff is no different. While there is a place for (and a huge responsibility in) honouring original productions and giving the people more of what they love (hmmm…I’m lookin’  at YOU West Side Story), Harvest Rain are well aware that there is a large percentage of the population who want to see them continue to raise the bar as a leader in Brisbane’s musical theatre scene and I feel sure, with their triple-threat training and bringing-in-the-big-guns roll call (no pun intended so close your mouths, fans of Mr Strike’s big guns) they are up to the challenge!

You’d better book early, folks, for this season (3rd-13th February 2011); the groupies and skeptics alike will be back to see this one!

[title of show] Part 2: The Director’s Comments

The lovely Ms Gilhome has been kind enough to allow me to share her comments with you, in response to my post about the show.

I love her no competition in the arts notion – I think she has almost convinced me about this – and I also think she has summed up the possibilities for the future state of Brisbane theatre more succinctly than any other comments I have read thus far. Right now, there is an interesting thread appearing on her Facebook wall, which I will not copy and paste at this point without permission from each contributor; suffice to say, there are equal parts excitement and concern over the latest developments too, in The Arts curriculum draft, which you too can read and provide feedback about online. Do provide feedback to ACARA rather than complain loudly about the lack of The Arts within our education system!

Here are Emily’s comments re previous post.

Hi Xanthe,

Thanks for your post – it was a good read and I appreciate the supportive comments!

I also, was – anxious is the wrong word – AWARE that non-theatre loving types may struggle with the numerous obscure and not so obscure theatre references peppered throughout the show, so I was happy to see you raise the question. Interestingly, the e-mails and comments through our website have, for the most part, have actually been from people saying that they never go to theatre and how this show has inspired them to see more local theatre. I’m not quite sure what it is about the [title of show] experience, but we have had a lot of friends of friends, or workmates, or boyfriends and husbands who are saying that they would never be caught dead at Mamma Mia – but on the strength of [tos] would consider seeing musical theatre again.

Some patrons came twice, three times to the show (but I would hazard a guess that THEY would be the hardcore theatre-going types).

More than anything, and even despite the fact that – as you said – the show wasn’t FULL, I have been so encouraged by the fact that there ARE people going to theatre for the first time, that there ARE people exploring a different genre, and that they WILL return. Not necessarily even to our show, but they are more likely to take a risk on another indie show.

You mentioned competition, which I found interesting also. I, for a long time, have been an advocate for the fact that I believe the arts to be one of those industries where the traditional concept of ‘competition’ doesn’t exist. Yes, I agree that there are battles for subscribers – and they could be seen as ‘customers’ as in any other commercial activity, but I still believe that a theatre company’s audience can’t be pigeon holed into a normal ‘consumer’ model.

If my show does well, it doesn’t mean yours won’t. If my show sucks – it might actually make people LESS likely to see your show in the future, because they have been stung by taking a chance. I believe that, collectively, we all have a responsibility to our audience (as a whole), because I don’t own Oscar patrons no more than La Boite owns theirs. In fact, I believe that there is a positive correlation between me doing well and any other indie company doing well (as opposed to a traditional inverse relationship in a traditional notion of ‘competitive’ relationship). That is, like I said before, if my show does well – then it’s more likely that yours will as well; and vice versa.

In other industries – this isn’t the case. McDonalds doesn’t bring out the Grand Angus so that Hungry Jacks will sell more Whoppers. It doesn’t work that way.

The arts is different. As an INDUSTRY, we compete against other INDUSTRIES (i.e: movies, television) for our collective audience. I don’t believe individual companies need to compete against each other in this way. Every project is individual, and just because someone comes to see [title of show] and decides that they are an Oscar supporter (BLESS THEM) doesn’t mean they won’t go and see the next 23rd Productions show because it’s produced by a different company.

AND NOR SHOULD THEY! I support and ENCOURAGE people to partake in the arts – I don’t care if you’re not coming to see Oscar’s show. If what we’re doing doesn’t float your boat then find something that does. Because if you support others, then there will come a time when we DON’T have to be Sherlock Holmes to find what’s on – there will come a time when the arts WILL be considered the primary entertainment option for people in this city.

That’s when the funding will follow.

Let’s stop banging our head against brick walls and moaning about the state of the arts.

Put the DVD back on the shelf and get out of the house and into this great new social scene.

I feel priveleged to be a part of it – and I hope that those who were encouraged by [tos] to see more theatre actually do. That’s what this show was all about for me.

Emily Gilhome

Oscar Theatre Company

[title of show]

 

The tag line reads:

This show fucking rocks!

And it does. Well, did. Too bad if you missed Oscar Theatre Co‘s recent production, downstairs at the Visy Theatre in Brisbane’s Powerhouse. I saw it on closing night and was surprised (and dismayed, Brisbane, DISMAYED) to see approximately 30 seats spare.

[title of show] is no ordinary show. I remember being intrigued and bemused by the very first YouTube appearance of Hunter and Jeff, in their pilot episode of what appeared to be a fun stunt, claiming to be putting their show on Broadway, despite the fact that it had not yet been conceived. I thought, “Brilliant! Good luck to them…maybe we should try that?!” (I WANT A GOLDEN PONY) and promptly forgot all about them.

The rest, as they say, is a phenomenon. The appeal of the show is that, while it stayed pretty true to form and content, it got a whole lot funnier than the YouTube posts. However, for non theatre-goers; maybe not so much. I do wonder how you would consistently get a normal crowd to see this show. Even I had to refer to the [tos]sery in the back of the Playbill to find out who Mary Stout is (and then I realised I’d seen her play random characters in legal dramas for years). The rest I got. I know other theatre freak friends who particularly appreciated the cell phone ring tones. There were many homages to some of the most popular Broadway musicals of our time that had me LOL in between the witty one liners. Interestingly, the guy sitting next to me didn’t appear to react to anything at all. I wanted to say to him, “Hey, buddy, turn that frown upside down!” (because this show makes you want to say such things to sad people) and then I wanted to poke him (obviously, not in a virtual, Facebook kinda way – he’s clearly not on my friends’ list with a sense of humour like THAT –  but in a physical, actual way, you know; to see if he was alive). Anyway, he coughed in the middle of the opening song so I knew he was alive, though not quite normal. Seriously! It’s a funny, clever song and sets the premise for the entire show about two guys writing a show about two guys writing a show about two guys writing a show!

The rest of the audience was with me, loving every moment; applauding, shouting, whistling and screaming after every (upbeat) number and jumping to their feet at its conclusion in the most enthusiastic and genuine standing ovation I’ve been part of for a very long time.

And rightly so. The collective talent involved in this production is impressive. On stage, Dash Kruck totes stole the show for me, portraying Hunter Bell, with his endearingly cheeky, naughty approach to, well, everything in life, his Broadway moves and his ability to connect with those on stage and off. I’m confident I can recommend you go see anything at all that Dash appears in. This includes his kitchen when he is washing the dishes and IGA when he is doing the grocery shopping. Dash is bound to make any event just as entertaining. His wing-man, Kynan Francis provided some sort of balance, though he also managed to get away with equally zany behaviour, which became the norm for everyone, actually, very quickly. Watch the original pair in lieu of the totes over the top version, busting with parody-energy of THIS number. For the record, I preferred the totes OTT Oscar version. It fucking rocked.

I loved David Law as Larry (and able MD), although I wonder if it would be equally as effective to have the character engage a little more in the action…on the other hand, it might change the entire course of the show!

The girls started out as…supportive. And, thank Emily, fleshed out their roles a little more as they went along. I couldn’t help but feel as though the show still lacked a really strong female opportunity…unless it’s there in the book and it wasn’t quite grasped. This seems ridiculous to say because both girls certainly held their own, especially in their scene together towards the end of the show, featuring the song, What Kind of Girl is She, which was added for the Broadway run. One of Brisbane’s most adored performing artists, Liz Buchanan, in her animated (read zany and different animated to this one) rendition of Die Vampire Die might almost have given Susan Blackwell a run for her money. Don’t tell Susan I said that. Heidi (that’s Heidi Blickenstaff for those unacquainted with either the original show or the über-talented lady herself) was played appropriately, in turns, friendly-gently and fiercely-confidently, by Bernadette Alizart. However, I couldn’t help but feel that the two songs included to showcase Heidi’s/Bernadette’s voice were, at the same time, performed beautifully by Bernadette AND could have been two stronger moments in the show. Picky, aren’t I?

LISTEN CLOSELY.

Emily Gilhome’s directorial debut is an impressive effort, particularly in terms of the production values, which were basic and beautifully achieved by a tight team (SM, Tim Wallace; Lighting Designer Extraordinaire, Jason Glenwright; Sound Designer, Lachlan Wallace and Designer Michelle Zahner) and the way the cast members connected with each other and with their audience, even – or especially – in the most ridiculous, zaniest moments, to keep it real. Of course, as I alluded to earlier, some of us may relate better than others to the concept and content of [title of show], which is set to enjoy a cult following everywhere.

Oscar Theatre Company has started out very quietly, with quietly confident visions of what sort of company they want to become and while they are still finding their feet over the next few years, I think they’ll find that Brisbane audiences are loyal to their quirky quality, rather than the ordinary quantity of some of the competition. Did I say competition? I certainly did! There is this gentle local urban myth at the moment (is it new? Probably not) that there is not enough good theatre happening in Queensland and, more specifically, in Brisbane. I say there is. I wouldn’t go so far, however, as to say that Brisbane is the new cultural capital of Australia. There are those who have done. To them I say, “THANK YOU.” And, “COME AGAIN.”

It’s true, you do have to be a bit of a Sherlock at times, to find out what’s on, though not if you’re a Facebook addict like me. And by addict, I don’t mean simply logging on every day for a fix, I mean finding the pages for the main stage and independent companies, liking them and hoping they are all tweeting and updating their moves like mad to continuously feed your addiction (oh, a marketing and social media blog post must be coming up)! Then of course, one must choose to go see their shows and book the tix and GO (oh, a supporting friends’ productions blog post must be coming up)!

From my vantage point on the gorgeous Sunshine Coast, I’ll certainly be keeping an eye out for whatever it is that our friends at Oscar Theatre Co offer us next.

Red Sky Morning

Red Sky Morning got me. It really got me. It really got me thinking. About all sorts of things. Bear with me…

THING 1

How close to self-destruction are any of us? Are we not all ever-so-slowly imploding silently over something? No? Not at all? Perfectly, delightfully happy in every way every day? Really? Okay. Maybe it’s just me.

But have you never thought (or not quite thought) while you’ve been driving, about letting the car gradually drift into the other lane entirely? Or off the road entirely and into the scrub and the trunks of the eucalypts? Off a cliffside and into a canyon? You’ve never had a Thelma and Louise moment? Not ever? Just me? No prescriptions filled twice over and no one at home to cook for? No walk-into-the-sea fantasy? No wish for a loaded gun? Just me. Okay. Well, clearly not I’m afraid, because this is something that Red Sky Morning dares to address. Or at least dares to dare you to consider.

Stop. I don’t want you to flood my inbox with ARE YOU OKAY messages because I’M OKAY.

The point of difference of course, between seeing these events in our mind’s eye and taking action to bring about these events must be somewhere vaguely in a place where we remember we are loved and we have an awful lot to live for. Or, if one can’t remember such a poignant thing at that point, perhaps it’s the fear of enduring any sort of real physical pain that stops us. Or the knowledge that those left behind will suffer unbearable anguish, unable to ever understand what it was we forgot there was/is to live for. I’m not sure. I’ve never stepped (or steered) quite that close to the edge. In any case, how do we stop time at that point, in order to reconsider and take that step away from the other place, the place of tragic – not always quite conscious – decisions about finally, one dark day or night, acting out our fantasies of self-harm or suicide? I can’t actually answer that. It’s heavy stuff.

Red Sky Morning is really heavy stuff. Tom Holloway has written nothing and everything about my life. And quite possibly about yours too. His ability as a writer is obvious and something that, during the afternoon’s discussion with the cast and the director, they kept coming back to. I could feel that they were, rightly so, in complete awe of Tom’s lyric. I’m fascinated that from a piece written originally in Word columns, for three characters to speak a monologue each, together in cacophony for the duration, a brilliant composition was structured and workshopped and re-structured and rehearsed and re-structured, to become distinct movements, delivered to stunning emotional effect. Sam Strong is a BIG fan of Anne Bogart’s work. So yes, you got those references there. I knew you would.

In turns, David (company AD), Sarah (company casting), Erin (company admin) and Sam Strong (director), explained the process by which this show came about. It became clear that it has been the collaboration, between writer, director, designer, actors and audiences, over a three-year process, that has made this piece so real and raw and really funny and completely devastating all at the same time. The cast, without exception, were simply outstanding in their vocal work particularly (um, rote learning lines my arse, guys; maybe to begin with, as one might learn poetry in the primary school but then there is talent and intuition and intellect at work!) and in their uncanny ability to match each other’s continuously changing energies, making physical and emotional connections (and complete detachments, sometimes almost within the same instant) without actually connecting with each other through touch, proximity or any eye contact. Ever. Seriously. I’ve only seen that level of intense commitment – I’m talking about that level of extreme character too – in the snippets of Alice Ripley in Next to Normal on Broadway, on YouTube. In actual fact, there are a few parallels there, between mother and mother, which would be apparent if you are a theatrical geek-freak, as I am, and you have perhaps watched said clips of Alice Ripley in Next to Normal on Broadway, on YouTube, something like, ooh, six million times.

I MAY HAVE EVEN POSTED IT ALREADY. HERE IT IS AGAIN BECAUSE IT IS SO GOOD.

BUT WAIT. THERE’S MORE. NEXT TO NORMAL IS COMING TO A THEATRE NEAR YOU. That is, if you’re anywhere near MTC and the precinct next year.

THING 2

Red Stitch is my new favourite company in this country. In fact, I will attribute them with validating the way that Sam and I approach our work and with inspiring us to continue down this path, gather the right people around us gradually and produce great theatre in our own time, via our own non-methods, attracting and building our own audiences along the way. It is highly unlikely that anybody will really care about that now, at this point. I’m just saying. For future reference. For, you know, editorial, for when they’re searching desperately at deadline, for quotes and links to include in a feature story about the theatre-makers from Queensland. I’M JUST PUTTING IT OUT THERE. FOR THE UNIVERSE, YOU KNOW?

THING 3

See, now we’ve progressed beyond the Seuss Things.

The touring set is pretty much the original set. It cost the company $1000.

The reddish earth for the floor is sourced locally, wherever they go, immediately giving a great sense of place and somehow – not entirely sure what I mean – a sense of trust or normality (or something) and authenticity (or something) to this production, just by it being there, underfoot. I think it was the reality underneath, if you cared to look through the thick, murky layer of fantasy and smog (hello, Mt Isa memories) that served to ground us again, bringing us back to that safe, child-like place of trust and normality, just as the father craved, grasping handfuls of earth as he lay there upon it, just considering his place in this lonely place and just as the daughter craved, reacting violently to everything happening outside of her control by forcing a fight, in the dirt in the school yard, with her best friend, finally losing all self-control and regaining at least some sort of self-respect in the defense of her mother against the public taunts and accusations, which she had previously ignored.

Then again, the director and the designer may have had a conversation that went something (or nothing) like this:

DISCLAIMER: I did not hear Sam Strong say, “mate” in all the time we were there. It’s late. I’m tired. If it were a show about putting on a show (currently enjoying a Brisbane season), this is how it would play out.

 

 

Timber. Timber floor boards, mate.

No. Too warm, too friendly, too comforting. How about dirt?

Dirt. Soil. The real, red earth. The dust of life…

No mate, that’s Bui Doi you’re thinking of; they’re doing Miss Saigon in Brisbane while we’re there, aren’t they? That’s a brave choice.

Yeah, yeah. Brave choice…

Dirt, mate; let’s get the local dirt and spread it across the floor. It’ll be even more comforting than boards.

Yeah, yeah, no boards; local dirt’s good. But you know it’s been done, mate.

No, not for ages, mate; not since Capricornia and that was only seen by the Brisbane peeps. Do the local dirt, mate.

Alright, mate, that’ll be brilliant. And local. Dirt.

 

 

ASIDE: When I notice that in the back of the cute little STC season brochure for 2011, in their clever little SUPPORT US YOU LOVE US YOU LOVE OUR LAVISHNESS (and p.s. don’t forget our efforts to recycle and greenify the company) the donations they received this year covered costume and set costs upwards of $20 000 for multiple productions, I realise what sort of company I would like to work…like. I would say work for, only you would not say no to an STC gig if it were to come up, would you?! Well I certainly wouldn’t. But by the same token, there is something to be said for the humble independents, draining minimal funding and producing exceptional theatrical work for their country, regardless. Hats off, I say.

So within the strict confines of an ingeniously designed venetian-blind-box, a little family, in a typical almost-outback small town struggles to simply be together. On the surface, it’s a play about survival. Under the surface, it’s about questioning the desire to keep trying…fighting to survive. Who can be bothered? And what (or whom) for?

A husband and father convinces himself that he is, in fact, “bloody lucky” and heads off to work each morning before his wife and daughter are even up and moving. They are both, however; wide awake and considering the day before them. The play is, to begin with, surprisingly…upbeat. The daughter, off to high school and, with a crush on her teacher, chatty and looking forward to getting out of the house and being amongst friends. The mother, off to the kitchen to…oh! just grab a beer before breakfast, after seeing an elephant in the hall before getting out of the house and going for a jog. And so it goes…but not like anything I’ve seen or heard before. And I was ready for it! Having spent the same afternoon on the fourth floor of the Judith Wright Centre with the generous cast, stage manager and director, discussing every aspect of the show, it came as an enormous shock on so many levels – and a total sensory overload – to actually hear two or all three of the actors speaking at once!

THING 4

In a dysfunctional family (and, let’s face it, that could be any family, really, depending on just how closely you look at it) how agonising is it to choose to go on with each day rather than to end the pain, frustration, confusion, miscommunication and missed opportunities – for everyone – in a life that hasn’t turned out quite the way you thought it would? (Did I mention boredom, resentment, regret, regression, manic depression and delusions of grandeur? Yep. That’s right. Remember, I’ve lived out west too). Well, we certainly saw the agony. We felt it. I felt it so that I couldn’t breathe. And because I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t sob, which is really what I felt like doing, as if I were in front of that heart-wrenching film, KOLYA, once again with my four-year old daughter asking, through her own desperate tears, “Mama, why won’t the mama take her boy?” (and her absolutely bewildered tears at the end of it, “Mama, how can the mama take her boy back now?!” Her capacity for sympathy and her depth of understanding confounds me).

Anyway, the last theatrical work to really get me like that was Steppenwolf’s production of Stockholm. At the end of it, I was a complete mess. And as an artist, I thought, “WOW…we can do that!” At the end of Red Sky Morning, I fell apart and, as an artist, thought, “WOW. HOW THE FUCK DO WE DO THAT?!”

The academic in me wants to sit in on everything this company does and just observe and absorb…and ask lots of questions about process and write it up for my thesis. The actor in me wants to do their very next production, whatever it may be, and work collaboratively to be a part of something amazing. And the director and teacher in me wants to work with new talent and use my non-methods, which of course pay homage to Bogart, Chubbuck, et al, to continue to introduce actors on the Sunshine Coast to this little world that we are trying to build here. What is, I realise, a microcosm of Melbourne’s Red Stitch community. That is, if I may be so bold as to claim any similarity to their ensemble philosophy and innovative approach whatsoever!

Brick by brick, somebody recently told me, though I think he referred specifically to building the Brisbane theatre scene at the time. Brick by brick. It applies wherever we are. So. I tell you what. We’ll give it another year here. One more year of bricks. Okay? Then…well, who knows? Brick by brick and day by day, I say!

Friends Bare all for Coast Theatre

Nathanael Cooper

Sunshine Coast Daily, 10th September 2010

A PURVEYOR of fine food, a peddler of fine events and a theatre company notorious for pushing the envelope as far as it can go.

Photo: Warren Lynam, SCD

It is hardly the first group of people you would think of putting together, but when Tony Kelly from il Secondo, Min Swan from Whitehouse Celebrations and Sam and Xanthe Coward from XS Entertainment came together it was theatre magic.

After a hit season of La Ronde in Noosa and Maroochydore earlier this year, XS Entertainment took the La Ronde concept to a new level and prepared it for the Sydney Fringe Festival.

At the same time, Tony Kelly was having an epiphany of his own.

“I was trying to think of a really good way that we could make use of these function rooms (at the M1 in Maroochydore),” he said.

“I made a call to Min and the first thing that came to mind was Sam and the work he had done with La Ronde.”

The three new amigos got together and discussed the concept of performing La Ronde’s sister show, Erotique, in two special preview performances for the Coast before travelling to Sydney.

“La Ronde was a great success in Noosa and Mooloolaba with sellout seasons and preceding our tour to Sydney next week, the obvious thing when this opportunity came up was to not only have a dress rehearsal, but also offer some performances,” Sam said.

“The concept of having live theatre in Maroochydore next to a high-class venue with a high-class event team was great, and something we really wanted to be involved in.”

Erotique’s risqué nature, exploring sex in a unique way through the use of minimal sets and very minimal clothing, aims to take culture on the Coast to a new level.

“After the preview (on Tuesday night) we were able to finish the show at 9.30 and walk down to il Secondo bar, have a coffee, have a wine and talk to people for a couple of hours,” Sam said.

“It’s such a rare thing to be able to do on the Coast. Most nights after dark it basically comes to a standstill.”

If Erotique is as successful as the new partnership hopes, Coast theatre lovers can look forward to more of the same.

“I would like to stretch it as far as we can,” Tony said.

“All three of us are praying that Maroochydore and the Sunshine Coast grab it with both hands and cherish the fact that we are putting our neck on the line to do it here.

“And if they can embrace it we will give it to them as much as they like.

“If it’s a two-shows-a-week thing then all three of us will love that to death.”

Some tickets are available for tomorrow night’s performance and are available by visiting www.whitehousecelebrations.com.au/erotique or by calling 54441736.

EROTIQUE – NOTES

I know I had promised to share process/progress notes at the outset of this blog and failed to deliver during La Ronde, largely because I felt I was in such a busy, multi-tasking place at the time and I never stopped for very long to reflect upon or to dissect exactly what I was doing. Also, I tend to shy away from the more academic literary styles of writing…as you may have noticed.

Tonight we had notes. It was just Ben and I, working together with Sam on our scene, Scene Six; the final scene of the show.

No pressure, guys, NO PRESSURE.

I had been given notes previously of course, during La Ronde‘s rehearsal process, which I either applied or argued at the time, before getting on with the job. This time, this process seems slightly different. In my life, I’m just as busy (busier), just as multi-tasking (more so), just as exhausted (much more so) and yet, this time around, it feels like I’m more focused and more able to apply immediately – without arguing – the teeny tiny adjustments necessary to make this scene really…smart. And by “smart” I mean “sting”, rather than come across as anything particularly intellectual!

The premise is simple. The motives are honest. The story is short and bitter sweet.

For those of you unfamiliar with

a) the way we work or

b) our product

let me explain something…

We don’t do “acting” *GASP*

I know. I hear ya. It’s a big call. And arguable, sure, depending on your perceived notion of what acting is or isn’t or should be or shouldn’t be. And whilst Sam and I may disagree on the process part, we certainly strive for the same end result. And that is:

TRUTH. BEAUTY. FREEDOM. LOVE.

Ha! I just wanted to throw in a little Moulin Rouge again. It was time.

We do want all of that, in various guises, on stage at some stage…but not all of the time. What we do want all of the time is truth. And the way we get it is to gradually rehearse the actors out of their pre-conceived notions of story, character and connections or relationships.

The actors end up not “acting” at all.

Ben and I have indeed been feeling our way into this final scene. No pun intended. It is so not that sort of sex scene. We had a script with which to work on Monday, after 2 rehearsals and just 2 weeks out, before we “should” have it all together for the preview performances at the M1 Function Rooms in Maroochydore (stay tuned for those details).

As Director, Sam gave us the basic structure of the scene and did his whole descriptive-analysis-my-turn-in-the-spotlight thing so we were sure to GET IT. His vision, that is. WE GOT IT and we brought our own stuff to it, then we contributed to the shape of the script, did away with the script, wrote a new interpretation of the script to better reflect the mood and motives of the people we felt these characters to be and we worked it to the desired emotional point at the very first rehearsal anyway, because we were really feeling it, because we could relate to it, because we had created it.

Wow, look at that; my little green grammar line didn’t come up there! *win*

Expressed that way, it sounds so simple! Doesn’t it?!?? It is simple…if, as an actor, you can let go of all the stuff you “should” be doing as An Actor and just be the person in the story. And within that story, tell your story. We are privileged to be working with a bold director who believes in madness before method and that in between, anything goes! Lucky for him (and for us) it appears to work.

It is, in fact, the same way I coach much younger actors and singers (not so much of the madness methinks, though they – the kids – may beg to differ). It’s certainly not a common approach on the Sunshine Coast, particularly when we’re talking about school students and studio students in the lead up to the local eisteddfod!

Luckily, my recent experiences, outside of the schools, have served to validate the way I do what I do.

The way I see it is that parents are happy to pay fees for lessons outside of school in order to see results outside of the ordinary.

Contrary to popular belief, these are not just parents looking to put their child into a class because they didn’t make the netball or the footy team! In fact, they are my favourite kind of parents because they are like mine and they acknowledge and support their child’s passion for the Performing Arts, driving them to classes and rehearsals and concerts and eisteddfods and exams and…well, you probably know them too.

In schools, regardless of fees paid or the way in which the department is run, I have found that if I employ the same unconventional teaching methods, parents and principals all tend to ask, “Is that really necessary?” even before they see the work. Or indeed, the results that come from working in such an honest way.

Sometimes, when they have seen the work, they can’t help but question the way in which it was developed. And well they should! It’s always a fascinating and very courageous journey! But they don’t always like what they hear. They wonder why, when JUICE is the title in the curriculum, do we stray from it?! “Well, actually, it’s more that we’ve gone off on a tangent, to tell more personal stories and the stories have come from the kids. This is their Juice.” Their ideas, their content, their experiences, their stories. Their truth. Do we censor that? Do we deny what actually happened during their weekend? Do we not tackle the real stuff when it starts to get hard? Do we not allow the real stuff – the hard stuff – to become the lesson? I don’t want to get way off track here (too late!) but self-devised and collaborative drama is really what we’re doing here. And it’s magic. Let the kids play like this too. Don’t stop at “drama games” for 10 minutes to start or finish a class *groan* but build on them! Use them to advance the drama and develop the stories the students want to tell. We are all storytellers; actors, singers, dancers…how liberating and empowering it is to just tell the story in the spirit of truth! I hope I’m preaching to the choir here!

Maybe it’s just me.

Oh, but tears! Tears, for example; tears mean trouble! Trouble for me, that is! For the student, tears often mean the liberation and self-discovery and the realisation that “OH! I never knew I could do that!” And, “Thank you!” that, as a teacher, I can tell you, we love to hear! Tears might be shed over something joyous like this or over something devastating, like, “Oh. I never realised I felt that way.” And, “Ouch! That’s a painful truth!” (i.e. he’s just not that into you!) Somehow these lessons are more easily taught away from the rigour of a traditional classroom setting.

For those on the outside of the drama class at school, tears (or any strong emotion) can be confronting and confusing and frightening and threatening (“Oh! What? She made her cry?!”) For those outside the studio setting however, tears seem to be a little more acceptable; there is an understanding that the student has made a bold choice and has committed to delivering their own interpretation of the song or monologue or scene. AND THAT’S CONFRONTING. For the artist, I mean. So let’s learn to chill out, open up and tell the truth of our stories! Let’s accept that THE PROCESS MAY INVOLVE TEARS. And let’s appreciate those parents who support the interests and ambitions of their children and send them to Performing Arts studios outside of school hours! And look, I don’t really make a habit of making my students cry; of course it’s just an example. What I do, unlike others who baulk at the thought of anything really tricky or emotional or REAL (or those who have also been told by administration that they just can’t field any more enquiries about one class) is to not stop nudging somebody towards their own raw, vulnerable place, which is where the tears might be.

The truth is extremely confronting and we face it in order to deliver it believably to an audience. As my good friend, Todd Schroeder likes to say, “If you can see it, you can sell it!” This is so difficult at first, for the students (including the adults) who have been told that their proclamation style “acting” and pantomime over-the-top-ness is DA BOMB.

THANK YOU Idol, X-Factor, Everybody in the Whole Freakin’ Universe’s Got Talent and every other reality tv talent-seeking competition insisting on increasing ratings and rewarding mediocrity!

Even my 10-12 year olds will invariably hear from me, from the outset, “I don’t believe you!” I say it lovingly, of course. And then I wait, with baited breath, for each to turn up to their second lesson ever…and yes, they always do!

Ok. End of rant/schools vs studios comparison/self-appraisal and approval segment.

So. I was going to share the director’s notes with you. Here they are:

• 4 pages of script and 3 out of 4 pages perfect.
• projection. You only have, at any time, one word each; make sure they get it.
• more joy in the memories. Not sure why but “wasabi” works!

The rehearsal ran thus:

1. lines run
2. gabble, which is a lines run in fast forward
3. lines run out of context (this was DIFFICULT for me)!
4. lines run eyes closed (this was easy for me)!
5. director’s notes

So, without even moving it this evening, we felt we got to the truth of it again. Well, our truth, which is, after all, all we can offer.

And you can take from it what you will.

Sam said an interesting thing, a great analogy for what we do. Here it is, paraphrased and noted here late, late, late; I will do my best to explain it so you GET IT.

The Preface: Sam used to run nightclubs. The real seedy ones, you know? He would sort out all sorts of trouble, especially after close (and kids, I’m talking about a 5am close, none of this 1:30 curfew and bring up the ugly lights before 3). During a stint at the helm of one particularly notorious club, he would walk home to our apartment at sunrise each morning and then walk with me along the beach to the school at which I was teaching, before walking home again to go to bed by about 9am. True story. He walked a lot.

The Analogy: Sam says a scene is like a nightclub. You have it there, all set up and you can see in your mind, the types of people who are going to rock up each night. You vaguely know what to expect from them because you’ve seen it all before (the bogans, the bikies, the flirtatious fake boobs, the stiletto through the palm of your hand on the stairs)…When they actually rock up, they’re not quite as you imagined them but they fit your scene and you can manipulate their actions to a certain extent (mood, music, lighting, security, etc). Every time a person walks into that club, the scene changes. You manipulate what you can but ultimately, the people make that club what it is.

Sam says it is his job to welcome the actors to the club and help them to feel comfortable in their own skin. Hmmm…Well, now, more than ever, that job description makes perfect sense. Next week, Ben and I will be getting comfortable – literally – in our own (lily white winter) skin.

Keep those ugly lights off, thanks, Sam!