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Guards at The Taj

By Rajiv Joseph. Riverside’s National Theatre of Parramatta. Directed by Bali Padda. Riverside Theatre Parramatta. 24 Feb – 5 March, 2022.

Reviewed : 26 February, 2022

Photo : Noni Carroll

It is 1653 and the Taj Mahal is about to be revealed to the people. Years of speculation have almost immortalised the building, despite the fact that it has been hidden behind by a high wall. Humayun and Babur are two low level guards, stationed outside the wall to ensure secrecy until all is revealed at sunrise. They must not face the wall. They are not supposed to move or to speak. Their swords must be raised at all times. Disobedience will result in terrible punishment, including death by elephant.

Such are the ordeals faced by … the Guards at the Taj.

Guards at the Taj won the OBIE for Best New American play in 2016. Playwright Rajiv Joseph uses some of the myths that have embellished the construction of the ‘Taj’ to recall the vast differences in Indian society in the 1600s – the incredible wealth of the ruling class, the power they held over the people, and the cruelty practised by some of them.

One such was the Mughhal emperor, Shah Jahan, who commissioned the building of the Taj Mahal in 1632 as the tomb for his favourite wife, Mumtaz Mahal. The impressive white building, with its high domes and pillars, was designed by Ustad Ahmad Lahauriit. It took 20 years to complete – and the labour of 20,000 workers. Joseph uses those workers – and the guards – to recall, graphically, the accepted inequality and brutal practices of the time.

Fortunately, he uses humour to counterpoise the horror – and director Bali Padda and his cast incorporate that humour very effectively, especially in the opening scene.

Photo : Noni Carroll

Imagine a towering, blue lit, cutwork wall reaching high and wide across the front of a stage. Imagine a guard, resplendent in shimmering white and midnight blue uniform, complete with blue and silver turban and juttis, standing, sword held in his right hand outside the wall. This is Humayun, played by New Zealand born actor Idam Sondi. He is still, silent, face immobile. All is quiet – then Babur (Akkshey Caplash) rushes in and stands beside him. He’s late! He raises his sword. Humayun turns to look at him. “Wrong hand!” he hisses out of the side of his mouth. And the tension is broken!

Babur continues to break the solemnity – and danger – of their task. He is curious about the dawn birdsong. He reminisces about a tree house they built when they were boys. He wonders about the stars and imagines an ‘airo-plat’ that could take them to the stars. Caplash makes this character lovably curious and ingenuous. He fidgets, smiles, looks wide-eyed as he wonders.

Humayun tries desperately hard to maintain his position and stature, but is constantly taken “off guard” by the inquisitive restlessness of his friend. Even his dire warnings of the punishments they could receive for various misdemeanours are ignored. Sond sustains the strength of his initial moments on the stage. He gives a little, but never too much. He is ever aware of being caught out and his fear of punishment remains a constant in his reactions and expression.

That fear is shown especially clearly when he explains a situation that is concerning him. He has heard that the architect has asked the Shah if the 20,000 workers who have toiled so faithfully could be taken on a tour of the completed building. The Shah has reacted violently to such a monstrous suggestion – and promised an awful punishment.

Unfortunately, Babur and Humayun are chosen to carry out that cruel, inhumane punishment.

The second scene finds them in the bloody aftermath. In a brick cell, awash with blood, they relive what they have done. Gone is most of the humour. Though there are some moments of repartee, this scene, and one that comes later in the play, are fairly gruesome. Be warned!

Photo : Noni Carroll

Caplash and Sondi make the transitions between ‘guard’ and ‘butcher’ well. One moment they are rigid and resplendent in silk uniforms, next moment washing a bloody floor with a sodden towel. They aren’t easy transitions – and the costume changes make the scene changes a little long despite effective music and the play of light on the screen.

Set designer James Browne knows the Lennox Theatre stage, and makes good use of its proximity to the audience in the “guards” scenes – and the possibilities of what can be hidden behind a carefully lit, cutwork screen. The brick walled ‘cell’ in the second scene, with its sunken bath filled with murky water, is a surprise!

Kate Baldwin’s creative lighting mixed elegance outside the wall with pervading dankness behind it – and Me-Lee Hay enhanced this with sound and music that skilfully matched the changing atmospheres.

Though the play is set long ago in India’s past, it rekindles the class structure that dogged the sub-continent for so long … and prevailed, still, under British rule. It recalls the cruelty practised by many in authority, not just in India, and not only in the distant past.

Bali Pada and his very talented cast and crew have made Rajiv Joseph messages clear – and done so in a production that is very carefully envisioned.

First published in Stage Whispers magazine

Otello

By Guiseppe Verdi. Opera Australia. Joan Sutherland Theatre, Sydney Opera House. 19,25 Feb; 2,5,8,16,19 March, 2022

Reviewed : 19 February, 2022

Photo : Prudence Upton

Otello is a Venetian general and the governor of Cyprus. Iago is his ensign. They have just returned to Cyprus in a violent storm after a victory against the Turks. The city is celebrating, but not everyone is happy! Otello has overlooked Iago by appointing another officer, Cassio, as Captain of the Navy. And Iago is angry! He is a malicious man and plots revenge against them both. The outcome is a cruel scenario based on deceit, manipulation, jealousy … and gullibility. It results in Cassio killing Roderigo, another young soldier – and Otello being driven to kill his newly-wed wife, Desdemona.

It is not a very pleasant story, yet Verdi was able compose music that evoked these harsh themes as well as the stirring emotions that provoked them. He wrote for a strong. powerful voices and an orchestra that could conjure a raging storm, a vindictive villain, a dying, mis-accused wife and a remorsely repentant husband.

Korean born tenor Yonghoon Lee is Otello. Baritone Marco Vratogna is Iago. Their voices match the demands of Verdi’s music – and the range of emotions their characters expose. Yonghoon Lee amazes in his ability to establish Otello’s respect and authority in compelling notes filled with power and command – and irresolute notes that show the wavering gullibility of the man. Amazingly this is the first time Lee has played Otello – and he inhabits the role masterfully.

Photo : Prudence Upton

Marco Vratogna finds every vicious dimension in Iago’s character – and the music Verdi created for this vengeful man. Vratogna sings and struts the villain well! He is a forceful presence – both vocally and theatrically – making Iago hatefully impressive.

Soprano Karah Son is the ill-fated Desdemona. Loyal and loving, she thinks well of everyone, falling prey to the fabrications Iago weaves around her. Son shines in this role. She has some special moments: the beautiful ‘kiss’ duet with Otello at the end of Act 1 – and the hauntingly evocative “Willow” song in Act 1V.

Australian tenor Virgilio Marino is the much-maligned Cassio. Marion finds all the oscillating musical variations Verdi has woven into his creation of Cassio – especially in the scene where Iago tempts him to drink too much. He sings and plays a very operatic drunk!

Iago’s wife, Emilia, is played by Sian Sharp. Richard Anderson is the luckless Roderigo, Andrew Moran is Montano – and Andrew Williams plays a Herald.

Photo : Prudence Upton

This relatively small group of principals is backed by a large and skilful Opera Australia Chorus, that shines particularly vibrantly in the storm scene at the beginning of the opera. They sing and move in time with the roaring wind and thunder invoked by the orchestra, creating waves of voice and movement that simulate the waves that threaten the harbour below them.

Andrea Battistoni conducts the Opera Australia Orchestra with energetic verve in this revival of Harry Kupfer’s 2003 original vision, directed by Luke Joslin. Kupfer’s production took the opera from the 1880s to the middle years of the twentieth century, exemplified in the exotic costumes designed by Yan Tax. The set is a double diagonal stairway stretching up to a wall of slatted folding doors that shake and flail in the storm. A rich gold and crimson carpet covers the central area of the stairs, providing a luxurious, yet almost threatening, context for this malevolent story, in which both the heroine and the hero die – and the spiteful villain survives.

First published in Stage Whispers magazine.

A Chorus Line

Conceived by Michael Bennett. Book: James Kirkwood & Nicholas Dante. Music: Marvin Hamlish Lyrics:Edward Kleban. Produced by Darlinghurst Theatre Company. Directed and choreographed by Amy Campbell. Drama Theatre, Sydney Opera House. Feb 13 – Mar 17, 2022

Reviewed : 16 February, 2022

Photo : Robert Catto.

The much-awaited production of A Chorus Line from Darlinghurst Theatre Company will be just as much acclaimed! It will fill audiences with joy and elation. The power that radiates from the production is dynamic. This cast really loves “This Job”!

Amy Campbell’s creative vision has given them much to love. Her innovative choreography has brought the cast leaping, spinning and flipping into the twenty-first century – and in doing so, has done nothing to lessen the impact of the plot! In fact, it reinforces it. If “getting cast’ was hard in the 1970s – it’s been even harder in the 2020s, especially after two years of … “Nothing”.

Photo : Robert Catto.

Even without the pandemic, the messages that inspired Michael Bennett back in 1975 resound more insistently today. There are more dance schools. More dancers. They are more highly qualified and experienced … and more ambitious. And making a living – and a life – in the arts is even harder. Yet the passion and fire are undiminished. Dancers still train and audition; keep training and keep auditioning … it’s what they “do for Love” .

The set (Simon Greer) is a brick loading dock, enhanced by mirrors, some sparkling surprises, some exotic lighting (Peter Rubie) and lots of carefully defined and considered costumes (Christine Mutton).

Twenty four dancers, having been taught set routines by assistant choreographer Larry (Brady Kitchingham), face tough, exacting director Zack (Adam Jon Fiorentino). Only seventeen remain after the first cut – and only eight will be required for the production. The competition is strong, the tension high. Then Zack makes it more stressful by asking some personal questions. Their stories underscore the theme. Some sad, some funny, they include the physical characteristics that hold dancers back – size, sexuality, shape, the inability to sing …

Photto : Robert Catto.

All of these pressures and problems are summarised beautifully by Val (Rachel Mansour) and the company in “Dance: Ten; Looks: Three”. And the problem of trying to make it across all forms of theatre is beautifully explained by Angelique Cassimatis who takes Cassie’s solo “The Music and the Mirror” into a whole new, and perhaps for some, a little long, choreographic realm.

It would be impossible to try to comment on every performer in a production where solo moments and ensemble moments merge so smoothly and powerfully. There is a treasure of talent in this production, and a wealth of experience, nurtured both here and overseas, that informs the professional bearing and commitment of this cast.

This production of A Chorus Line is for those who love to dance – and those who love dance. It is bright, yet serious. It gives its cast – and its audience – exactly what Cassie sings about:

Give me somebody to dance for,
Give me somebody to show.
Let me wake up in the morning to find
I have somewhere exciting to go.

That “somewhere exciting to go” for lovers of dance is the Drama Theatre. But only for the next four weeks! Be quick! Tickets are selling fast!

First published in Stage Whispers magazine

Breaking The Code

By Hugh Whitemore. Directed by Anthony Skuse. New Theatre, Newtown, NSW. 11 Feb – 5 March, 2022

Reviewed : 12 February, 2022

Photo : © Bob Seary

In Breaking the Code, playwright Hugh Whitemore used his skill with words to craft the poignant story of Alan Turing, a man forced to hide his real self as clandestinely as he had to hide the secret work he did for his government during World War II. It is an ill-fated story and one Whitemore told with caring honesty and understanding candour.

Director Anthony Skuse embraces that caring and understanding in his incredibly creative and sensitive production of Whitemore’s play.

Together they take the audience back to Britain in the 1940s and 50s, a dark Britain ravaged firstly by war, then by the gloom of rationing and unemployment. A Britain where poverty and privilege walked side by side – and sexual ‘transgressions’ were punishable by outdated laws.

A Britain where a brilliant, homosexual mathematician and scientist who had ‘cracked’  Germany’s complicated Enigma Code and been awarded the OBE for services to his country, could be convicted of “gross indecency”, sentenced to “chemical castration”  under Section 11 of the Criminal Law Enforcement Act of 1885 … and die by his own hand only 10 years after the end of the war. This is the story that Breaking the Code tells.

It’s not an easy play to direct. Whitemore was a skilful writer, who saw the possibilities of juxtaposing characters over time and events.  But Skuse is a skilful director; one who can translate those possibilities – the complex characters, the interplay of age and time, the social and political implications – into a production that is, in itself, quite breath-taking.

He sets the play on an open stage where lighting designer Jordan Russell subtly suggests transitions and transformations of time and place. In the background, filmmaker Patrick Phillips’ shimmering images infer deeper contexts – a leafy forest, a summery field, rustling heather, bodies diving elegantly into smooth water. He contains the action on a parquetry floor, surrounded by shadows where characters hover and watch, and a lone woman sings softly. In such a fluid atmosphere time and action are flexible.

Photo : © Bob Seary

Skuse uses his set deftly, creating pictures that are as ordered as a Renaissance painting. Light shines on immediate action, but spills over onto a standing figure here, a seated figure there, the singer in the shadows. Such attention to detail infiltrates every scene, ensuring clarity even as time, place and characters merge.

Skuse has cast a fine assembly of performers whom he directs with perceptive skill and sensitive empathy. It is a large cast. Many of the scenes are intimate and Skuse has fostered an environment of trust and confidence that infuses the production. There is a compelling aura of self-assured familiarity within which the actors work with confident belief.

The three actors that play Alan Turing – Ewan Pedley, Harry Reid and Steve Corner – establish a bright, inquisitive, intelligent scholar, acutely aware but also deeply sensitive. They take him from school to Cambridge, to Bletchley and back to academia, and as they do, they show the tension that develops when someone has to live in a world where – in Turing’s own words – “it is not possible to produce a set of rules purporting to describe what a man should do in every conceivable set of circumstances.”

Pedley, as the schoolboy Turing, plays a bright, open Alan, happy in his developing friendship with intelligent, but ill-starred Christopher (Dallas Reedman). Pedley’s Alan is innocent, unguarded, but just a little insecure and hesitant.

Reid, as the clever sciences graduate whose skill is sought by the War Office, shows the developing complexity of Turing’s character and his self-awareness. When he is ‘sounded out’ for Bletchley by the fusty, but lovably understanding Dilwynn Knox (Martin Portus), Reid’s Alan is confident, quick to question, interrogative. Later, with his colleague and close friend, Pat Green (Bridget Haberecht), he is hesitant, reticent – yet revealingly open. Reid moves gracefully on the stage, establishing a Turing more sure of himself, and his relationships, especially evident in a sensitive love scene with Nikos (Dallas Reedman).

Photo : © Bob Seary

Steve Corner plays the older Turing, cleverly incorporating all the slightly hesitant characteristics established by Pedley and Reid – a slight stutter, fidgeting hands, nail biting, wearing his tie around his waist – yet with a different sort of confidence. This Alan is acutely aware of who he is, and of the dangers he faces as he admits his relationship with the venal, grasping Ron Miller (Igor Bulanov) to the police – and the difficulty of disclosing his sexuality to his mother. Corner’s performance encompasses all the self-awareness, strength and intellect that has been developed by Pedley and Reid, and adds the debilitating anguish of humiliation.

Jess Vince-Moin and Leilani Loau play Turing’s mother, Sara. Vince-Moin is the younger Sara, ambitious for her bright son, keen for him to make friends. Loau is a more mature Sara. She has weathered the war and Alan’s secret ‘service’. She is reticent, a little brusque, but still protective and proud. Both contrast with Bridget Haberecht’s Pat, who is intelligently perceptive, encouragingly open and accepting.

“Authority” is represented by the diffident but determined Detective Sergeant Rimmer,  played by Jason Jefferies, and John Grinston, who plays the haughty, imperious John Smith.

Naomi Belet is the shadowy voice that filters through the action plaintively, nostalgically, full of the melancholy that pervades the action.

It is courageous to take on a play such as this; just as courageous as those like Alan Turing who braved outdated, restrictive laws to be themselves – and, eventually, saw some of them changed.  Without their courage, plays such as this would not be selected for mainstream stages – and we would not see fine productions such as this … historically accurate, delicately directed, sensitively performed, gently provocative.

Anthony Skuse and his very talented creatives and courageous performers give us a play that is of the past, but still very much of the present. There is much still to change.

Also published in Stage Whispers magazine

 

Mamma Mia!

Music and Lyrics by Benny Andersson and Björn Ulvaeus. Book by Catherine Johnson. Packemin Productions. Directed by Jordan Vassallo and Courtney Cassar. Musical Director: Peter Hayward. Choreography: Sally Dashwood. Riverside Theatre, Parramatta. February 11 – 26, 2022.

Reviewed : 11 February, 2022

Photo : Grant Leslie.

What a positive choice to bring Packemin’s loyal audience packing back in to Riverside! Despite QR and Vaccination-checking queues and compulsory masks, Mamma Mia’s  opening night crowd filled the theatre with joyous anticipation – and directors Jordan Vassallo and Courtney Cassar and their very talented and energetic cast rose to their expectations! The production is bright, tight, colourful and makes the very most of the comedy and optimism that infuses the plot and the many ABBA hits.

After the pandemic of setbacks that have affected the arts over the past two years, including Packemin’s rueful need to abandon a production of Wicked, it was an inspiration to reprise their celebrated 2019 production of this lively, foot-tapping, nostalgia-arousing musical. A host of enthusiastic – and stage starved – performers, including some of the lead stars of the 2019 production, have braved a carefully organised Covid safe rehearsal period to bring the happiness of this musical back to Parramatta.

Photo : Grant Leslie

Louise Symes and Courtney Bell reprise the mother and daughter roles of Donna and Sophie. Lithe and petite, but with powerful voices that belie their stature, they inhabit these roles with exuberant joy. Symes is loving and concerned as a caring single mother, fiercely protective of her own independence and suitably ‘peppy’ as part of her old trio, Donna and the Dynamos. She has a wide range and incredibly strong vocal control, especially evident in a moving rendition of “The Winner Takes All”.

Courtney Bell finds both the naivety and wistfulness of Sophie in her search for her father – and her concern at the Pandora’s box she has opened by inviting the three men mentioned in her mother’s diary to her wedding. From her opening “I Have a Dream”, she takes Sophie through a prolific number of scenes, songs and routines with beguiling vivacity and belief.

The three ‘possible’ fathers – Sam (Scott Irwin), Bill (Mark Simpson) and Harry (Nate Jobe) – provide the “exposition”! Irwin, as architect Sam, rejected 20 years ago by Donna, is serious and soberingly restrained. Simpson’s interpretation of Bill, the Australian writer and adventurer, is laid back and warm. Jobe, as the gay London banker, Harry, makes the most of the slightly over-the-top physicality incorporated into the role. All have strong, compelling voices that adapt easily to the variety of the music. All relate well with both Symes and Bell in the short but poignant emotional moments that add depth to the plot.

Photo : Grant Leslie

Debora Krizak and Rachel Gillfeather are Donna’s Dynamo sidekicks and they both bring to the production a bright oomph and … well … dynamism! Both have excellent comic timing and play off each other skilfully. Both have strong voices and move well. Both are also good actors and bring extra chutzpah and dimension to the roles.

Krizak relishes the innuendos built into the dialogue, especially in the lyrics and the directors’ blocking of “Does Your Mother Know”. Gillfeather relates well with an audience. She is animated, expressive, and light on her feet. Her energy and comedic timing with Simpson in “Take a Chance On Me” are memorable.

Sophie’s fiancé, Sky, is played by the very versatile Joe Kalou. Singer, dancer, actor , musician, Kalou makes more of this role than would seem evident from the script. He finds the joy of his relationship with Sophie, the fun of a stag night, the concern of someone who is thoughtful and mature – and the energy and skill of a seasoned performer.

Enough of the characters! What about the direction and the music? Vassallo and Cassar and musical director Peter Hayward bring a wealth of experience across the performing arts to the company. They have given this production verve, colour and a strong balance of pace and tempo. Choreographer Sally Dashwood has moved over 50 performers in a variety of moves that look spectacular, but take into consideration numbers, space, timing, pace and effect. No easy task, but one she achieves seamlessly.

Cast : photo from Packemin Facebook page

And what about those 42 performers who make up the ensemble – and the voices that sing from ‘the pit’ so beautifully in numbers such as “S.O.S.”? There is a range of age, experience and diversity in this pretty special ensemble. They bring the fictional Greek island of Kalokairi to colourful, musical life. Their timing is excellent, their enthusiasm boundless. What a great opportunity for all of them to shake off the blues of lockdowns, isolation – and the threat of a vicious virus.

Thank you producer Neil Gooding,  your talented creative team and your resilient company of performers for bringing this cheerful, optimistic musical back to the Riverside stage. There will be hundreds of happy audience members singing along in your praise over the next two weeks.

Also published in Stage Whispers magazine

Killing Katie: Confessions of a Book Club

By Tracey Trinder. Director: Francesca Savige. Ensemble Theatre, Kirribilli. 9 January – 26 February, 2022

Reviewed : 18 January, 2022

Photo : Lisa Tomasetti

Tracey Trinder’s characters have graced the small screen for many years. Killing Katie: Confessions of a Book Club is her first stage play – and it’s a winner. The writing is clever, economic, perceptive, witty. The characters are tellingly recognisable yet lovably warm. The dialogue demands astute direction and fast, adroit delivery. It’s a director’s play and actors’ play rolled into one …

What an unbelievable shame that this incredibly talented writer did not live to see this premiere production of her very finely crafted play.

Tracey Trinder died tragically in 2021 as rehearsals for this production were underway. She had met the cast and the creatives. She had heard an inaugural reading; seen how her characters came to life so naturally. But, unfortunately, she will not see the delighted reactions of an audience or hear their laughter at her shrewd wit and carefully contrived one-liners.

The Ensemble Theatre’s production is a poignant tribute to Tracey Trinder’s legacy to Australian theatre. Director Francesca Savige and her cast bring Trinder’s characters to vibrant life in a production that is bright, colourful, fast-paced and extremely funny. Together they explore “female alliances, guilt and the mysterious forces that can make or break a friendship group” – especially that of a small, long-running and tightly controlled book club.

Photo : Lisa Tomasetti

The club, run by up-tight Robyn (Kate Raison) at the home she shares with her up-bright mother Angela (Valerie Bader) has only two other members: over-sensitive Linda (Bron Lim) and over-energetic Sam (Georgina Symes). Robyn sees herself as the ‘leader’ – informed, in control. The others ‘bow’ to her prickly ego to keep the rather precarious peace. Then Sam decides to invite her twins’ speech pathologist, Katie (Chantelle Jamieson), to join the club. Katie is younger, lively, open and brutally honest. While the others seem to appreciate her stinging insights, Robyn feels threatened, and contrives to eject Katie from the group – with disastrous results.

Ten years pass and Robyn has written a book called, enigmatically – Killing Katie: Confessions of a Book Club. Linda and Sam, who have seldom seen each other since the book club broke up, hastily re-connect. Spurred by fear and guilt they re-live Katie’s effect on the book club as the date of the book launch approaches …

Bron Lim, as Linda, introduces the situation. Lim encapsulates the serious, complaisant Linda. It is she who reaches out to the audience, bringing them through the fourth wall to share her concern. Lim makes her anxious, eager to please, tactful and sensitive. She is watchful, quick to intervene, but a little too easy to manipulate – and in the manner of many women, quick to assume guilt.

Sam is a restless being – and Georgina Symes captures her edginess in a performance that is energy packed. Her Sam jogs to meetings, stretches during discussions, practises squats while talking on the phone. She is always late, and every meeting is interrupted by phone calls from her teenage daughter. Symes is lithe, very fit – her energy makes Sam totally plausible.

Valerie Bader is, as usual, a source of strength and experience. The Angela she creates is carefully layered, at first cooperative nurturer, later mischievous tease, but always aware and protective. She listens, watches and waits, patiently, for just the right moment to deliver the laughs that Trinder has so cleverly built into Angela’s lines. Her timing is impeccable.

As the irrepressible Katie, Chantelle Jamieson is just that – irrepressible. She hits the book club like a summer zephyr, blowing away the dust of Robyn’s oppressive ‘rules’ and lightening the atmosphere with contemporary, brazen observations. Jamieson’s Katie moves gracefully, grins cheekily, pushes boundaries, waits expectantly to see the effects – and always apologises impishly. This role is a gift, and Jamieson unwraps it deftly.

Photo : Lisa Tomasetti

And what of Robyn? Kate Raison transforms herself into a rigid, repressive personality, firmly self-controlled, tightly controlling. The Robyn she creates seldom smiles – seldom sees any brightness or colour. She fears change; fears losing control. So the arrival of Katie is threatening – and Raison shows this in stiff, minimal gestures, tight lips, strained reactions. It is a tough part, and Raison plays it just as tightly as Trinder has written … from the beginning to the surprising end.

All of this is occurs under Savige’s skilful direction. She pays homage to Trinder with a production that explores all the nuances that the playwright has built into the plot: the characters’ flaws and frailties, the implications of their relationships, the group dynamics, the changes that are wrought. The blocking is firm; the tension taut; there is no extraneous action. Even the scene changes are tightly choreographed.

Designer Tobhiyah Stone Feller has designed a set that centres the action – with one or two more elaborate features! She has studied Trinder’s characters carefully and ensured their costumes mirror their personalities. Colour and texture are important in her design and add their own rhythm and cadence to the tempo – and humour – of the production.

It was special to be at the opening night of this first – and last – play by such a talented writer. It was special to see such a celebratory production of her work. Together the cast and the creatives, who first came together in 2019, have weathered the setbacks of two years of the pandemic and the tragic loss of their playwright.

“Despite the trials of the past couple of years,” Francesca Savige writes, “we are still together as a group and still finding laughter in the face of adversity. We hope to honour Tracey’s legacy and hear the echoes of her infectious laughter around the theatre.”

Amen to that.

First published in Stage Whispers magazine.

__________________________________________________________________________

The Tracey Trinder Playwright’s Award

The award, recently announced by the Ensemble Theatre, is for an outstanding unproduced

comedy or comedy drama written by a woman playwright including a trans and/or genderdiverse playwright. Tracey was a stage and screenwriter who had a unique voice in the world of comedy. This award honours her name and her commitment to women’s writing.

For more information, and to donate toward the award, please visit ensemble.com.au/support-us or contact their Philanthropy & Partnerships Manager Stephen Attfield on 02 8918 3400 or stephena@ensemble.com.au

The award consists of a $7,500 cash prize, a development workshop, and a full production

as part of Ensemble Theatre’s annual season.

Details of the award, submission guidelines and entry dates will be available on the Ensemble  website from February 2022.

The Construct

aXis Ensemble and Circus Monoxide. Sydney Festival. Church St Parramatta. 22nd & 23rd January, 2022

Reviewed : 22 January, 2022

Photo : Jacquie Manning

Six fearless Australian performers tumble, dance and contort their way through and around a unique steel sculpture standing on a vinyl mat spread over part of the new light rail on Church Street Parramatta. Their performance, titled The Construct, is part of the free, outside entertainment of this year’s Sydney Festival. They attract a crowd of about two hundred – some dedicated Sydney Festival followers, some simply passers-by, others sitting, sipping outside the cafes that line this precinct of Parramatta commonly known as ‘Eat Street’.

It’s a Saturday afternoon. The rain has stopped. The sun is out. There’s a soft breeze. It’s outside, so, we all hope, relatively safe in this, perhaps, Sydney’s most ‘star crossed’ summer. The atmosphere is quietly expectant – and the performance doesn’t disappoint. It is, in keeping with the mood of the times, restrained, controlled, just a little playful.

Set to an “urban, classical” music score composed by musician Dr Judith Stubbs, The Construct, choreographed by Zebastion Hunter was “created for public places as a direct response to the COVID-19 lockdowns”. It is performed by Johnny Brown, Melissa Kisela, Emma Goh, Campbell Clarke, Andrew Summer and Roya the Destroyaall members of the aXis Ensemble from Wollongong’s Circus Monoxide, and all of whom boast vast and varied circus and dance experience.

Photo : Don’t ask

The narrative Zebastion Hunter has built into his dance/circus creation touches on the variety of emotional reactions the pandemic has elicited– fear, grief, loneliness, reaching out, rejection, re-uniting, mistrust, renewal. All are clearly suggested in this carefully choreographed and meticulously rehearsed performance.

As they twist, snake and spin around each other, high on the poles at times, lying, still on the hard road surface at other, the six talented artists portray the confusion of a society finding ways to deal with new fears and unusual restrictions. It is there in each of their faces, an underlying tension that informs the characters they sustain as they tell their story. That is not easy when you are balancing high on metal poles, swinging away from each other after a suggested spat, supporting each other in a twisting, trapeze-inspired reconciliation.

Circus work such as this requires constant focus, awareness, meticulous timing – and utter trust. All this whilst sustaining an ongoing narrative depicting different characters in changing situations on a metal construction that is moved around on lockable castors. It is a stirring piece of theatre.

In fact, The Construct is street theatre doing what street theatre is meant to do – telling an inspiring story to an audience that craves hope.

Also published in Stage Whispers Magazine.

Andante Ma Non Troppo

(Move Forward but in a Slow Way)

Written & Directed Jimena C. Puente-Treviño; Sydney Jewish Museum, 12 December, 2012.

Reviewed : 12 December, 2012

Photo : supplied

There are many stories of miraculous escapes from dangerous and oppressive conditions. All of them are daring, all are celebratory –  all remind us of the ruthless brutality of those who callously and relentlessly seek power over others. Telling and re-telling those stories  those stories commit them to history. They are lived experiences that record events that should never have occurred – and should never happen again.

How they are retold varies and that is important, because the more varied the methods, the wider their appeal. The way they are retold reaches out further than the immediate audience. Those that hear them pass them on. They trigger discussions and ideas – for interviews, documentaries, books, films, charities, organisations.

No stories have been so widely and sensitively told and recorded than those defiant, courageous people who escaped from the Nazi regime – and those few who survived the horror of the Nazi concentration camps. They have been recorded in interviews, memoirs, books and films. They are harrowing, their vividly detail recording small acts of courage, bravery and tenacity in the face of inhuman cruelty.

Photo : supplied

The stories include small acts of audaciousness and defiance, often told with humour. One of these stories has been recorded in a short film by Sydney-based, Mexican-born Jimena Puente-Trevino. It tells the story of Jewish-German cellist, Felix Robert Mendelssohn who escaped across the border into Switzerland on a bicycle carrying his Stradivarius cell in a bag on his back.

Puente-Trevino researched the historical facts of the film with the aid of the Sydney Jewish Museum over ten years ago. It was produced in France with an international cast and crew in 2008 and has since won several international festival awards including the Best Screenplay award at the New York Short Film Festival.

Andante Ma Non Troppo saw its Australian premiere at the Sydney Jewish Museum last Sunday. Introduced by Puente-Trevino herself, the film was enthusiastically received. Filmed in black and white, it captures the time perfectly. Mendelssohn’s ingenuity and doggedness in the face of the ridicule of Nazi border guards is told with gentle humour and creative realism.

The ambitious filmmaker’s next project was shared with the audience via a script reading by four actors. It is based on the story of Michael Wionczeck, a Polish Jew forced underground in Nazi Germany. It records Wionczeck’s daring resistance plan to smuggle photographic evidence of the atrocities carried out at the Mauthausen concentration camp – and get them to the international press.

Titled “20.04.45”, Puente-Trevino’s script has already been shortlisted in three international script writing competitions. Last Sunday’s reading confirmed why. The writing is finely tuned, the story board tightly described, the characters clear, the tenacity of Wionczeck and his quest skilfully retold.

Photo : supplied

The script has attracted the interest of many in the film industry and is being developed for production in association with UK producer Jo Austin at Candid Films in Sydney.

As is the case with so many creative ventures, funding is essential, and Puente-Trevino is reaching out across the industry for support – so her new script can record yet another story of brave determination and daring for a wider audience.

 

Death of A Salesman

By Arthur Miller. Sydney Theatre Company. Director: Paige Rattray. Roslyn Packer Theatre. 3rd to 22nd December, 2021.

Reviewed : 8 December, 2021

Photo : Prudence Upton

Death of a Salesman is a ‘modern tragedy’ that follows all the traditions of Greek tragedy –   except that Arthur Miller’s tragic hero, Willy Loman, is not a ‘noble’. He is just a ‘common man’ who has realised he has no chance of achieving the American Dream – namely that “life can be better for every person if he or she has the opportunity and willingness to work hard— regardless of their background or social class”.

Growing up in Brooklyn during the Depression and the Second World War had taught Miller that “some people would never be able to realize that dream, no matter how hard they worked”. Willy Loman is one of those ‘people’ and the realities of what he sees as the failure of his life haunt him constantly.

 

Willy is flawed, and is eventually destroyed by his own weaknesses, yet, like all tragic heroes, those weaknesses resonate with his audiences and arouse their pity – and their fear, as they realise that he sees death as his only redemption.

Photo : Prudence Upton

Willy and Linda Loman and their sons Biff and Happy have walked on many stages and the silver screen since Death of a Salesman first opened in New York in 1949. Their story has been summarised in many program notes, their characters carefully analysed, Miller’s themes intricately probed and explored. Over 72 years, their tragedy has been interpreted by many directors, each of whom faced the challenge of making their production ‘new’, whilst staying true to the characters and to Miller’s juxtaposition of the facets of tragedy.

 

Paige Rattray’s production is true to both. She, with set designer David Fleischer, has used the vast space of the Roslyn Packer stage to recreate, cunningly, the scale and atmosphere of an ancient Greek amphitheatre, albeit enclosed by a high, looming ceiling. In an interview in 1999, Arthur  Miller said  he had intended to call the play ‘The Inside of His Head’ and that “The original set I saw as the gigantic interior of a skull and the whole play played inside it.” Fleischer’s set captures that vision.

The stage is a vast room, its towering walls and ceiling coloured a dull bluish-green like a film of Verdigris tarnishing the lives within. Tall windows reaching high on stage left allow intermittent light to filter through. Tall doors face them on stage right. A split level upstage is surrounded by a disintegrating wooden frame. A small, square table, mismatched chrome chairs and a fridge are the meagre props.

So many symbols face the audience if they are looking for them. The high walls  and uncurtained windows symbolise the apartments towering above the Lomans’ home, looking in on their simple life. The verdigris walls symbolise the stain of their debts, the disintegrating frame, the things that need repair and the fridge and car that break down before they’re paid off …

 

In this enormous void, the characters exist, dwarfed by the complications of their lives, the futility that is engulfing them just like the new, high tenements around them have engulfed their home, swallowing up the green spaces, demolishing the trees, creating shadows where nothing will grow …

This atmosphere of oppression is emphasised in the costumes (Teresa Negroponte). Greys and browns predominate in Willy’s depressed reality. It is only the ghost of his wealthy brother Ben that brings lighter hues, and the garish restaurant where Biff and Happy fail to break his despair.

Lighting designer Paul Jackson  and composer Clemence Williams work together to underscore the turmoil of the action. Clemence eerily picks up on the reference to the flutes that Willy’s father made and sold, letting their sounds infiltrate his effects, piercing at times, softly betraying at others, shadows of the past, harbingers of a grey future. Jackson uses a battery of lights beside and beyond the stage infiltrate the set with more visible shadows and darker portents.

 

Rattray uses her cast to double as a traditional Greek chorus. Led by The Woman (Brigid Zengeni) they watch the action, their still scrutiny broken only to become a character in Willy’s memory, or to bring in a prop or move a chair. Zengeni herself is a constant energy force on the stage – still, observant – a distanced but pervasive presence, leading the audience into the turmoil of Willy’s mind in a voice that is analytically authoritative.

Photo : Prudence Upton

Rattray skilfully balances ancient form and contemporary style in this production where Miller’s characters are dwarf-like figures in a cavernous space much like Miller imagined originally. The emptiness highlights the futility of Willy’s thwarted ambition – and allows the actors to find the disturbing dimensions of their characters.

Jacek Koman is heart-breakingly believable as Willy. He mercurially moves Willy from despair to joy, from desolation to hope with a store of energy that is unflagging. Even when he stands, rigidly still, he imbues Willy with a restlessness that is unnerving. In the final scenes that restlessness becomes a turbulent force that sweeps through the audience in an inaudible gasp.

 

Helen Thomson balances that restlessness with Linda Loman’s relentless loyalty and devotion. She is still when Willy paces. She bites her tongue when he interrupts. She waits tolerantly, holding his jacket, while he prevaricates. She hedges her reminders of debts owing and broken fixtures with gentle patience. Yet Thomson still manages to infer a fear that keeps Linda constantly vigilant.

Biff is the son in whom Willy placed so much hope – hope that Biff saw as a burden that led him to failure after failure. Josh McConville carries that burden in a carefully taut performance that sees Biff’s resentment flare time and time again until it eventually erupts in a scene that shows Willy just how much Biff cares about him.

Callan Colley is Happy, Biff’s younger brother. Colley epitomises his nickname. He is easy-going, nonchalant, backing away from responsibility if he can, seeking pleasure whenever possible. He contrasts McConville’s burning bitterness with casual cool.

 

Philip Quast hovers elegantly as the ghost of Ben Loman. Bruce Spence is engaging as Willy’s calm, slow talking, generous neighbour Charley. Quast and Zengeni come together to provide an entertaining distraction as the cast expertly and smoothly transform the set into a bright, 1940s restaurant.

There is much more that could be written about this production. Much has been written already. The ghost of Miller’s salesman uncle lives on in Rattray’s vision of ‘a modern tragedy’ – and in Jacek Koman’s hauntingly memorable interpretation of Willy Loman.

As Miller said back in that 1999 interview: “Everyone loves Willy except Willy”.

First published in Stage Whispers magazine

The Wharf Review : Can of Worms

By Jonathan Biggins, Drew Forsythe and Phil Scott. The Wharf Revue 2021. York Theatre Seymour Centre. 23 Nov – 23 Dec 2021

Reviewed : 26 November, 2021

“Here once more without the wharf we had before!”

No longer at the Wharf, but at the York Theatre at the Seymour Centre, The Wharf Revue team swing into the opening number of their new show. Will a change of venue matter! It’s highly unlikely. Their faithful audiences have been following them around the state for twenty years for a plethora of reasons. Their biting, acerbic satire for a start! Their intellect and acuity! Their wide experience across the arts: writing, acting, composing, performing.

Jonathan Biggins, Drew Forsythe, Phil Scott and Amanda Bishop use a sharp, penetrating corkscrew to open this Can of Worms that pans policies, politicians and pundits, past and present. The material is clever, cutting, funny, facetious, and always just a little bit serious. The production is precise. Multiple sketches, characters and costume changes demand split second continuity … and the ability to sustain the necessary fast tempo that makes revue work.

The first sketch, “Go Far Away”, is one that hits hard. It poignantly commemorates the 20-year anniversary of the ‘Tampa’ debacle, our cruel rejection of the survivors, and their detention on Christmas Island – a very different “Welcome to the Rock” than that portrayed in Come From Away.

The pandemic and climate change provide plenty of material. Harvey Norman is roasted for his “Job Keeper Bonanza”, and Craig Kelly for his corona conspiracy voicemails. The Nats take a tour of Barnaby Joyce’s coal mine ‘mancave’. And the National Cabinet on Zoom gets a ‘gig’ as the Muppets.

Bob Carr in a red, silk smoking jacket and suitably deep voice advises of diplomacy with China in a carefully metred parody of Coleridge’s Kubla Khan that acknowledges the building of Xi’s “stately pleasure dome”, but also decries the “ancestral (Duttonian) voices” and their prophesies of war.

Jacqui Lambe gets a hilarious “gutful”, as  does  Michaelia Cash, and a hesitant, hard-done-by Gladys Berejiklian asks: “Why did Bob Carr get the Olympics and I got a pandemic?”

Though Joe Biden warns that Donald Trump is a “clear and present danger “,  the “exiled President” returns with The Trump Family Singers, who are not going to say “farewell”.

It wouldn’t be a Wharf Revue without Pauline Hanson and Mark Latham getting a serve, or Kevin Rudd ingratiating himself. Rupert Murdoch meets up with Mephistopheles and the Queen bemoans yet another “annus  horribilis”.

There is much more – too much to record, too much to mention – all clever, all brilliantly conceived, all skilfully performed, all packed into a fast-paced hilarious 90 minutes that finishes with a closing parody on The Wizard of Oz, with Dorothy and Toto trying unsuccessfully to borrow enough to buy ‘the Oztralian dream’:

If baby boomers once could buy a family home

Then why, oh why can’t I?

Biggins, Forsythe, Scott and Bishop are polished, multi-talented performers. They are also  perceptive thinkers and cunning observers. They are a great team – and it’s good to have them back.

Also published in Stage Whispers magazine

Photos : Vishal Pandey