(And not at all fattening!)
Cake
This is possible one of the most perfect theatre shows I have ever had the pleasure of watching.
Upon entering the tiny Tower Theatre at the CUB Malthouse I was advised to 'mind the cupcakes' as i crossed the flour-covered stage floor in search of a seat. My inside information had told me to sit in the front row to increase my chances of receiving one of the little tasty treats. I chose a seat and plonked myself in the rustic wooden chair, entranced by the two women in the space, dressed in satin shirts and brocade skirts - as textured as the kitchen table, the old cottage furniture that made up the set - singing Pat-a-cake, pat-a-cake at a barely audible whisper. When the 80 seat theatre was filled, the story began with no great fanfare, just an organic shift from song to speech.
This is solo (almost) theatre at its best. From the first secretive confession of a woman at a loss in her own kitchen, Astrid Pill had her small audience in the palm of her hand. Moving from first to third person, switching from intimate confession to humorous recounting, to joyful song, to expression bordering on dance, she led us through love, loss and, most noticeably, longing. Never for a moment did I feel disconnected from this woman, from her multiplicitous story, from her openness. Zoe Barry, the other woman on stage, perfectly complimented Pill at all times, echoing the story through music and movement and occasionally providing another voice for a character, or for the woman herself as she argues with herself or watches herself from a distance. Barry is never a distraction, but an extension of Pill and the story.
The story is complicated and I don't doubt that every person took away a different feeling, a different message. But it is the sort of story one can relate to in some way - disappointment, frustration, joy, desire, jealousy, anxiety, embarrassment - Pill takes us through a myriad of emotions in a very truthful and unassuming way.
I left the show feeling full and hungry at the same time. My appetite had been whetted, but my senses and my emotions had been sated. I was filled to the brim with joy and wonder at this incredibly intimate show. And while the cakes were wonderful (I was lucky enough to nab one), it was the feeding of my soul, heart and mind that I truly savoured.
Waiting in the Wings
Jen
Monday, October 8, 2007
Angry Feminist Performance Poetry ... by Yana Alana
Yana Alana and tha Paranas in Bite Me
I went to my first Fringe show at the Fringe hub on Saturday night. After a turn around delay that brought back memories of my own frantic stints at striking sets in ten minutes, my companion and I crowded into the well-dressed Ballroom at the Lithuanian club for an hour of rhythm, rhyme and the reclamation of the word c***.
Yana Alana greeted us from a high backed chair, sipping on a glass of red, while a gramaphone tinkled out an old time tune. Impeccably dressed in pencil skirt and waisted cardigan, her 50s appearance was soon shattered by her subject matter as she opened the show with Young Liberals, an ode to those young men with their right wing ideals, and her wish to transform them from d***heads to, well, c***heads. Just for one day, at any rate.
To put it mildly, Yana Alana's poetry is scathing. But it's also extremely funny, due to Sarah Ward's (Sista She) wonderful delivery. Her timing and tone are precise and carefully used to drive every sharpened jibe into the heart of chauvinists oppressors everywhere. Her bearing belies the crudity of her poetry, an increasingly amusing juxtaposition, particularly as her haughty bearing is slowly dissolved by her own petty jealousies and insecurities as exposed by the band - the very talented Paranas
The trio back Yana for both songs and poems, heightening the whole experience, and also provide interludes of hoola hooping, juggling, sultana catching and a superb example of ostracism. They are naughty children to Yana's haughty mistress, and every meddlesome mood adds to the increasing chaos of the cabaret.
This show is clever, funny and crude, all the things you want from the Fringe, but it's also challenging and empowering. There's something wonderful, still, about hearing a woman elevate her vagina to a thing of poetry, of wonder, of respect, of joy, of soulful blues... And yet, she doesn't take feminism too seriously, with some wonderful digs at herself and her kind. But Yana is wonderful - sexy, beautiful, strong, crazy, and with an amazing voice, which is shown off more and more as the show goes on, but most of all it's fun.
And if you don't like it, you can not only bite her, you can bite me.
Waiting in the Wings
Jen
I went to my first Fringe show at the Fringe hub on Saturday night. After a turn around delay that brought back memories of my own frantic stints at striking sets in ten minutes, my companion and I crowded into the well-dressed Ballroom at the Lithuanian club for an hour of rhythm, rhyme and the reclamation of the word c***.
Yana Alana greeted us from a high backed chair, sipping on a glass of red, while a gramaphone tinkled out an old time tune. Impeccably dressed in pencil skirt and waisted cardigan, her 50s appearance was soon shattered by her subject matter as she opened the show with Young Liberals, an ode to those young men with their right wing ideals, and her wish to transform them from d***heads to, well, c***heads. Just for one day, at any rate.
To put it mildly, Yana Alana's poetry is scathing. But it's also extremely funny, due to Sarah Ward's (Sista She) wonderful delivery. Her timing and tone are precise and carefully used to drive every sharpened jibe into the heart of chauvinists oppressors everywhere. Her bearing belies the crudity of her poetry, an increasingly amusing juxtaposition, particularly as her haughty bearing is slowly dissolved by her own petty jealousies and insecurities as exposed by the band - the very talented Paranas
The trio back Yana for both songs and poems, heightening the whole experience, and also provide interludes of hoola hooping, juggling, sultana catching and a superb example of ostracism. They are naughty children to Yana's haughty mistress, and every meddlesome mood adds to the increasing chaos of the cabaret.
This show is clever, funny and crude, all the things you want from the Fringe, but it's also challenging and empowering. There's something wonderful, still, about hearing a woman elevate her vagina to a thing of poetry, of wonder, of respect, of joy, of soulful blues... And yet, she doesn't take feminism too seriously, with some wonderful digs at herself and her kind. But Yana is wonderful - sexy, beautiful, strong, crazy, and with an amazing voice, which is shown off more and more as the show goes on, but most of all it's fun.
And if you don't like it, you can not only bite her, you can bite me.
Waiting in the Wings
Jen
Priscilla, Queen of the Desert: The Musical
My office had the (dubious) pleasure of attending a preview of the much publicised Priscilla, Queen of the Desert: The Musical last Thursday. Friday morning saw a raging debate about the production. Some loved it. Most hated it.
I must say off the bat that i 'enjoyed' the experience. I was caught up in the glamour and glitz of it all, particularly the costuming, and clapping along to the songs. After all the songs are all chosen specifically for their clap-along-ability! But even at the time I couldn't help but question the strength and purpose of the production. About ten minutes after leaving The Regent I began to get that feeling you get after you've scoffed poor quality chocolate. You enjoyed the Nestle at the time, but you start to realise you could have had half as much Haighs and enjoyed it twice as much.
The show is spectacular, but like a well dressed pavlova, there's nothing much to it. I was immediately skeptical when the show opened with a lack lustre version of Downtown, but was reassured when the cast presented a wonderfully black version of Don't Leave Me This Way. This number was subversive and dark and had the production carried on in this intelligent and original manner, this would be a very different post. Unfortunately this was the artistic highlight of the show.
The show descended into dazzle mode, with fantastic effects, impressive props (the bus is VERY impressive, as it should to be for $1 million) and some of the most fabulously elaborate costuming I've seen on stage. And while this was entertaining, the show failed to build any dramatic interest. Despite a stunning performance from Tony Sheldon (Bernice), the interludes between musical numbers failed to pull the audience into the reality of the situation. The moments that should have been intimate and exquisite were as false as the eyelashes on the chorus boys.
Despite the millions of dollars spent on the spectacle, the musical failed to build at all on the original film. It offered no new insights, no revelations - even the jokes were often word for word. It only served to tarnish the elements that made the original so great, over-playing the campness that was so wonderfully understated in the film and glossing over the truly interesting moments - or even worse turning the most shocking moments into poor taste music video clips.
Even accepting that the event relies on spectacle, the show was still slightly disappointing. The dancing was not up to the standard I'd expect of a multimillion dollar production that had been playing for a lengthy season. The dancers were often out of time with each other and the music, and the choreography was, quite frankly, boring. Only the elaborate costumes and the degree of difficulty in moving in them saved the dance numbers. The three Divas, it must be said, were exquisite, with extraordinarily powerful voices, but seeing them swing in and out of the scenes grew old quickly.
The set relies almost exclusively on the bus, which is a clever piece of stage craft, but without the fabulous backdrop of the Australian outback, the grandeur is diminished and caged. In truth, only the costumes truly impressed at every turn.
I'm not claiming that all productions, particularly musicals, should be life-changing experiences, but it seems to me that there should be something behind the sequins, some sort of substance to the show. A little bit of artistic integrity, daring and originality - an original song or two, clever juxtaposition, more heart - and this production could have been more than just the most expensive drag show in the history of the country.
Waiting in the Wings,
Jen
I must say off the bat that i 'enjoyed' the experience. I was caught up in the glamour and glitz of it all, particularly the costuming, and clapping along to the songs. After all the songs are all chosen specifically for their clap-along-ability! But even at the time I couldn't help but question the strength and purpose of the production. About ten minutes after leaving The Regent I began to get that feeling you get after you've scoffed poor quality chocolate. You enjoyed the Nestle at the time, but you start to realise you could have had half as much Haighs and enjoyed it twice as much.
The show is spectacular, but like a well dressed pavlova, there's nothing much to it. I was immediately skeptical when the show opened with a lack lustre version of Downtown, but was reassured when the cast presented a wonderfully black version of Don't Leave Me This Way. This number was subversive and dark and had the production carried on in this intelligent and original manner, this would be a very different post. Unfortunately this was the artistic highlight of the show.
The show descended into dazzle mode, with fantastic effects, impressive props (the bus is VERY impressive, as it should to be for $1 million) and some of the most fabulously elaborate costuming I've seen on stage. And while this was entertaining, the show failed to build any dramatic interest. Despite a stunning performance from Tony Sheldon (Bernice), the interludes between musical numbers failed to pull the audience into the reality of the situation. The moments that should have been intimate and exquisite were as false as the eyelashes on the chorus boys.
Despite the millions of dollars spent on the spectacle, the musical failed to build at all on the original film. It offered no new insights, no revelations - even the jokes were often word for word. It only served to tarnish the elements that made the original so great, over-playing the campness that was so wonderfully understated in the film and glossing over the truly interesting moments - or even worse turning the most shocking moments into poor taste music video clips.
Even accepting that the event relies on spectacle, the show was still slightly disappointing. The dancing was not up to the standard I'd expect of a multimillion dollar production that had been playing for a lengthy season. The dancers were often out of time with each other and the music, and the choreography was, quite frankly, boring. Only the elaborate costumes and the degree of difficulty in moving in them saved the dance numbers. The three Divas, it must be said, were exquisite, with extraordinarily powerful voices, but seeing them swing in and out of the scenes grew old quickly.
The set relies almost exclusively on the bus, which is a clever piece of stage craft, but without the fabulous backdrop of the Australian outback, the grandeur is diminished and caged. In truth, only the costumes truly impressed at every turn.
I'm not claiming that all productions, particularly musicals, should be life-changing experiences, but it seems to me that there should be something behind the sequins, some sort of substance to the show. A little bit of artistic integrity, daring and originality - an original song or two, clever juxtaposition, more heart - and this production could have been more than just the most expensive drag show in the history of the country.
Waiting in the Wings,
Jen
Sunday, October 7, 2007
Introduction
Hello readers!
This is a blog for my discussions on the Arts, particularly Theatre Arts.
I trained in Drama Performance at Flinders Drama Centre and am about to complete a Master of Arts (Professional Communication) from Deakin. I have keen interest in the Arts, both as a practitioner and critic and am aiming to use this journal to hone my critical and theoretical writing.
I am currently living in Melbourne and working for a well-known Arts Organisation, which I will try to keep anonymous, but may become apparent in my writing! I have produced work in Adelaide and Melbourne and am an active part of the independent theatre development scene.
I will try to keep this blog interesting and lively and welcome debate and criticism!
Yours Sincerly,
Waiting in the Wings,
Jen
This is a blog for my discussions on the Arts, particularly Theatre Arts.
I trained in Drama Performance at Flinders Drama Centre and am about to complete a Master of Arts (Professional Communication) from Deakin. I have keen interest in the Arts, both as a practitioner and critic and am aiming to use this journal to hone my critical and theoretical writing.
I am currently living in Melbourne and working for a well-known Arts Organisation, which I will try to keep anonymous, but may become apparent in my writing! I have produced work in Adelaide and Melbourne and am an active part of the independent theatre development scene.
I will try to keep this blog interesting and lively and welcome debate and criticism!
Yours Sincerly,
Waiting in the Wings,
Jen
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