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Ontroerend Goed - Sydney Festival In 2019 I had the exquisite pleasure of catching Belgiun theatre company Ontroerend Goed conceptually daring “Are we not drawn onward to new erA” at Edinburgh Fringe Festival (originally made in 2014). Four years later, a pandemic and a load of international presentations the show finally arrives in Sydney. Director Alexander Devriendt’s production is a visual expression of a question on everyone’s lips. Now we agree that the way to avert climate catastrophe is to wind back the clocks, how much of the environment have we permanently damaged? We are informed by numerous press-releases the title is a palindrome. Information about the show contains a Kierkegaard quote: ‘Life must be lived forwards but can only be understood backwards.’ This is what rigorous theatre looks like in 2024.  It’s the kind of show that makes some arts festival attendees see red and walk out – their patience exhausted by the invitation to engage with challenging form. It is a devastating reflection on the current plight of humanity, on the brink of environmental meltdown. As theatre this is a show of extraordinary visual beauty, set in a garden (of Eden) corrupted by the political veneration in the  form of a giant gold statue, and of breath-taking ingenuity, as we realise – in the second half - that the strange gibberish language the performers are speaking in the first half is actually the English of the second half, backwards, and that the whole spectacle has been videoed (Jeroen Wuyts and Babette Poncelet), to be replayed to us, in reverse. It really is a coup de theatre. At the mid-point a performer steps forward to tell us that now, right now is the time that our future must start over.  It’s hard and not everyone agrees but the simplicity of her words and understanding are incredibly moving; a melancholia pervades the stage as the ensemble of 6 actors begin again (Angelo Tijssens, Jonas Vermeulen, Karolien De Bleser, Leonore Spee, Maria Dafneros and Vincent Dunoyer). These acts are accompanied by a haunting original musical composition “Disintegration Loops” by William Basinski  played by a sextet of musicians from the Spectra Ensemble. Duška Radosavljević describes things best: “The show draws attention to the action, labour and, amid that, to the somewhat meta-theatrical dimension of artistic labour and the specificities by which this particular piece of theatre has been made with such meticulous precision. One wonders where the company started from, what came first, how exactly they found the convincing palindromic effect of each detail, the dramaturgical power of each moment… But aside from the formal considerations, the searing significance of the show’s content is inescapable and multiply layered too – what are we doing, where are we going, can we rewind and start over again, how badly have we messed up, in fact? These questions evoke not only the Bible and Becket but also the very pressing issues of our ecological reality in the 21st century. Formally, there is an apparent sense of wishful thinking, a whiff of a fairy-tale, a formal feelgood factor to the piece, but nonetheless, it is steeped in fragile and deeply conceptual poetry, and those central questions are very much alive and haunting for a long time after you’ve left the theatre.” For me, a visually arresting, emotionally charged and an outstanding technical achievement of a production.  To see it a second time, years apart, makes for contemplation of what we see in drama when we stop searching for plot and character. It’s even better. And reminded me – in the words of the great Joni Mitchell – “We are stardust, we are golden. We are caught in the devil's bargain. And we've got to get ourselves Back to the garden” Kate Gaul

SOPHIA=(WISDOM): Part 3 The Cliffs New Theatre It’s been around 20 years since anyone presented the work of Richard Foreman in Sydney. Patrick Kennedy Phenomenological Theatre Company audaciously present Richard Foreman's 1972 play, “SOPHIA=(WISDOM): Part 3 The Cliffs” at New Theatre this month.  Richard Foreman – doyen of the NYC 1970s avant-garde and founder of Ontological-Hysteric Theatre which made its debut in 1968. His plays have been a mainstay of the weird and wonderful (and wise?) ever since. From memory sound designer and director Max Lyandvert (who worked briefly with Foreman in the late 90s) presented “My Head is a Sledgehammer” at B Sharp (2001) and “I’ve got the Shakes” at Darlinghurst Theatre (2004) and I recall something at the Reginald (before it was the Reginald) possibly also by Lyandvert and company called Kitchen Sink.  At the time, Keith Gallash writing in “Real Time” noted, “With their associative constructions and broken theatre rules, Foreman’s plays particularly appeal to connoisseurs of contemporary performance and visual art, but they can be refreshing for the jaded theatre palate. In “I’ve got the shakes”, says the company, “the characters are disoriented, unsure of where the stage begins and ends. They are caught up in inscrutable plots and speak as though they have just begun to learn language. The play only exists in the present moment, and the whole evening is made up of numerous present moments...which invite the audience to refocus their attention and revise their interpretation.” For the characters, performers, and audience alike this should prove an entertaining night of metaphysical pratfalls and existential sublimes.” Now, Patrick Kennedy is UK trained director, designer, and producer.  He leads a razor-sharp ensemble through a piece which left an original critic of the piece feeling “as though I were being lobotomized with a rusty knife”.  To be honest this is high praise – in a theatrical landscape where we often leave the theatre feeling indifferent to what has taken place. Kennedy’s production may not engage us emotionally, but it is intellectually curious and visually arresting with its endless beginnings.  This is very hard work to describe:  A series of moving tableaux, enigmatic interactions; maybe it ultimately means to be just what the title of his work says it is: WISDOM. But in the process, our traditional sense of theatrical expectation is continually jabbed and prodded. One among many projections reads: "I hope this is interesting enough to suit your purposes," and on the soundtrack there is the sound of a gun shooting far off in the distance. We are continually asked to think about contradiction and paradox. The occasional waiting and inaction are for the sake of something like Zen contemplation. It’s not boring. There are various attempts to describe a narrative for the purposes of press releases and web site blurbs, but these things just do not apply to this unique work. Scratchy records, eclectic music and sound effects, amplified voices and recorded instructions are all part of the complex technical mix – operated, I noted on the afternoon I attended, by Kennedy and his associate. This production really is a complex labour of love.  Outfitted in elaborate 18th Century costumes – all made and worn with a cheeky contemporary touch – the principal characters perform in an idiosyncratic style and speak similarly.  Of note is Luke Visentin as Ben – his charisma and technical prowess make for a focussed, gripping and playful performance. Kirsty Saville, Beatrice McBride, and Lara Kocsis are a formidable trio of women who are supported by a further six actors all of whom work with dedication or realise Kennedy’s vision.  Impressive. One other element of Foreman's work must be mentioned: his stage is filled with pulleys, ropes, levers, and esoteric contraptions that sooner or later do something or are used in a particular way.  Kennedy honours this instruction from the script and creates an oversized model box as set design – which is fully appreciated when an actor arrives on stage wearing a set model box as a mask. Yep – its’ out there!  And a comprehensive program that can be picked up at the door contains a directorial note and essay which might be useful. I am pleased I spent 2 hours investigating this unpredictable and idiosyncratic work.  One for theatrical adventurers, ontological nerds and those keen to sample gems from the avant-garde. Kate Gaul

Masterclass Brokentalkers Superbly crafted and presented, “Masterclass” is one of this year’s highlights and is created by Irish based company Brokentalkers who presented “Have I No Mouth” at Sydney Festival in 2015.  Doyen of what I’d call “advanced theatre” is Adrienne Truscott who is also no stranger to Sydney audiences having presented her “Asking For It” also in 2015 (and other great collaborations which you can google for yourself!) Having been performed around the world, “Masterclass” now makes its way to Sydney Festival and is not to be missed! Performed by Adrienne Truscott and Feidlim Cannon “Masterclass” deconstructs the construct of a ‘masterclass’, examining power, adoration, the lone male genius, and hierarchy within the arts to explore themes of political power, misogyny, and gender. The show begins as a kind of send up of those American arts master series shows that can now be caught on YouTube. Truscott is playing a legendary, misogynistic, enfant terrible of screen and stage, Adrienne Truscott (whose latest play is called “Fat Cunt” as the title “Fat Pig” was already taken!)  Cannon, the interviewer, can’t help but over share his admiration of his guest.  Although his stated intention is to really dig deep in his interview all he does is preserve the myth of the white male genius. Costuming is complete with wigs and false moustaches and on a retro looking playing space we quickly get the idea that is not all as it seems. There’s a gun, cigarettes, whisky, talk of Hemingway and discussion around Truscott’s barely sketched women characters. Truscott’s author delights in sharing the best ways to dominate a room to create a climate of fear for everyone around you. In a highlight the pair enact a scene from Truscott’s aforementioned play. Cannon reads the lines of the female character and Truscott’s author shoots down any suggestion that his writing is sexist. "If you think that, you clearly haven’t understood it." They then go into a rehearsal of the scene. Truscott denies any claims of traumatising female actors while looking for a raw visceral reaction. It was never women that Truscott attacked (It’s “female characters”, he insists). It’s all for the sake of art, of course. It’s bleak and very funny.  It feels safe – we know they are acting. Complete with funny dances and exaggerated physicality the show could have continued in this way and been provocative and entertaining. Halfway through, however, “Masterclass” evolves into something else. And it becomes edgier.  Truscott and Cannon appear to break from the characters they play and discuss the time they met (at a Sydney Festival!). The piece squares up against the current conversations around equality and power sharing in the arts. They grapple with the balance of power in their own relationship and the different way men in positions of authority behave towards them. A scene where Cannon briefly describes his reading of “Little Women” is another highlight. So, it’s time to redefine who should occupy the stage – where and why. For how long? There isn't enough room or resources for everyone, and white men have told all their stories. Time for them to get off the stage and make way for others. White women may have to leave too – but not quite yet. The conversation is layered with the resonances of the actor’s initial characterisation still partly intact – American Truscott’s macho silhouette, his/her confident and easily flowing vocabulary against Irishman Cannon’s bluster which renders him an almost inarticulate and hovering figure. Sixty minutes of pure joy, skill, and provocation. Not problems are solved.  No easy answers presented.  The sands of privileged art making are forever shifting.  Catch this show if you can. Review by Kate Gaul

In the small Womens’ Locker Room, seated in the semi round Alexander Wright fashions an intimate and masterful story from an Ancient Greek myth. He and his collaborator Phil Grainger have a reputation of crafting contemporary stories from these kinds of myths. In “Helios” it is only Wright who takes the stage in person. He reads from cards, employs audience members to be additional characters and voices, fires an evocative and original soundtrack from his computer by Phil Grainger and takes us on a magical, memorable ,and stirring story. Helios is the god of the sun. He lived in a golden palace at the far ends of the earth from which he emerged each dawn, crowned with the aureole of the sun, driving a chariot drawn by four winged steeds. This 21st Century adaptation has him as a commercial pilot who flies planes that drag the sun into place each day. He has two sons Atlas (meaning “to carry”) and Phaeton (meaning “shining” or “radiant”), who are fourteen and seven when the story starts. They live on a hill in a tiny village in Yorkshire, the kind where you know who everyone is and where everything is, even if you’ve never been there before. We get facts about the sun - it takes sunlight an average of 8 minutes and 20 seconds to travel from the Sun to the Earth. Photons emitted from the surface of the Sun need to travel across the vacuum of space to reach our eyes. These photons striking your eyeballs were actually created tens of thousands of years ago and it took that long for them to be emitted by the sun. This is Phaeton’s coming of age story – of facing the school bus each day; his interactions with bullies; crazy teenage behaviour and, later, finally driving his father’s golden chariot into the city meeting up with the erstwhile bully. They share an unexpected kiss and end the day in chaos. This story sounds like an epic poem in Wright’s hands. “Helios” will have you laughing, crying and everything in between. Wright makes the story of Helios, Atlas, and Phaeton matter because they are human which is truly the greatest gift a storyteller can give an audience. Brilliant! Run, do not walk if they come to a venue near you! Kate Gaul

The Master and Margarita Belvoir In circa-1930 Soviet Moscow, a man known only as “the Master” goes for a walk. He encounters a sad woman (Margarita) holding a bunch of yellow flowers, and the two begin strolling side-by-side. Their attraction is intense and immediate. She throws her flowers into the gutter; the Master picks them up and carries them for her. They embark on their relationship in secret and spend their evenings in the Master’s basement apartment as he writes a novel about Pontius Pilate. At Margarita’s encouragement, the Master brings his novel to an editor. The editor shoots him down and maliciously shares the novel with the publishing community. Soon the Master is called out in several newspaper articles as a Christ apologist. Ruined, the Master falls into despair. Margarita tells him that she will stay with him no matter what - and runs off to break up with her other lover. When she returns to the Master’s apartment in the morning, he is gone. This all happened four months ago. The Master has been living in a mental institute since the night Margarita left. Margarita, despondent and unable to find the Master, has tried to move on by marrying someone else. Meanwhile, an unexpected visitor arrives in Moscow: the devil himself. Aided by an absurd crew of assistants, he playfully wreaks havoc everywhere he goes. In the opening scene he introduces himself to a pair of men sitting in a park. After their conversation, one of the men slips on the streetcar tracks on his way to a meeting and gets beheaded by an oncoming streetcar. The other winds up in a mental institute — the very same one as the Master. In another crazy episode, the devil tricks the manager of the Variety Theatre into letting him perform a “Black Magic” routine for a packed house. During the show the devil makes money rain from the ceiling and the audience members pocket it. It turns out that the notes are cursed, and the ladies in the audience are welcomed onstage to pick out beautiful new dresses for free. The only cost, they later realize, is that the dresses vanish when worn. In another trick, the master of ceremonies has a nasty encounter with one of the devil’s assistants, Behemoth. A giant tomcat who threatens to rip the MC’s his head off. These seemingly unrelated plot lines intertwine on the night before the devil’s annual “spring ball of the full moon.” The gala calls for a woman named Margarita to perform the duties of hostess. Of all the women named “Margarita” in Moscow — there are exactly 121 of them — the devil’s ensemble finds our love-stricken Margarita to be the only suitable match. Margarita therefore makes a deal with the devil: she will host his gala, and in return, he will reunite her with the Master. Between these primary chapters are excerpts from the Master’s novel about Pontius Pilate. Far from his depiction in the Bible, we come to know Pilate as a pitiful man plagued by a bad job and a searing headache. All he wants to do is lie down next to his loyal dog, but his encounter with Jesus ensures that he will get no rest. These, anyway, are the elements of “The Master and Margarita”. What they produce is a lot less straightforward and to bring it to the stage is an ambitious task as Eamon Flack and the excellent ensemble have done. Chunks of this production are harder to engage with than others and perhaps that is not surprising given the 3-hour running length in its first public outing as a production. Ensemble movement scenes are to be savoured and the excellent choreography (Ella Evangelista) is a pleasure to experience. A large empty stage and an ensemble of ten players can offer myriad possibilities and this is where the Belvoir production really succeeds. Emma Maye Gibson is credited as performance guide, and one certainly feels that the tasks required by the cast and the extensive nudity (which is never gratuitous or cringey) have been generously and sensitively shepherded by this extraordinary artist. The literal magic used in the production adds many thrills and spills (Adam Mada). With incredible energy and heart at its core this is a deliberately scrappy and bare production but with focused modesty and the occasional Flack signature (the throwing of glitter before an exit or disappearance, for example). Romany Harper’s costumes and objects are beautiful with that hard-to-achieve understatement of seeming period and contemporary design. Space and lighting design by the masterful Nick Schielper makes use of a super reflective floor, revolve and the simplicity of a sophisticated lighting plan. Music and is used sparingly (Stefan Gregory, Jessica Dunn, Hamed Sadeghi) with an appearance from Gary Daly behind some crazy onstage instrumentals. Mad to pick standouts from the stellar cast but shoutouts to Marco Chiappi who demonstrates far greater comic chops as Variety Theatre MC; Jana Zvedeniuk whose warmth and quiet charisma shine as Bulgakov’s wife Yelena; and the irrepressible Gareth Davies – is there no limit to his creativity? - incredible work! There is something triumphant in the encounter with an adaptation of Bulgakov’s writing. Oh, the novel wasn’t published until the 1960s. It proves what the devil said: manuscripts don’t burn. Free speech cannot be suppressed forever. “The Master and Margarita” has risen from the literal ashes to become one of the world’s most important novels. And yet, there is something deeply sad in this story. Perhaps free speech cannot be suppressed, but it can certainly be delayed. This is exactly what Stalin’s regime succeeded in doing. Bulgakov’s writing, so important today, would have been even more essential in the time and place it was written. “The Master and Margarita” is indeed “the greatest explosion of imagination, craziness, satire, humour, and heart,” but it is decidedly more. A time capsule containing its author’s life and a glimpse into Soviet society, “The Master and Margarita” – the book and now the play - is a moving reminder that creative freedom is something to be cherished. Kate Gaul

Track Works Mortuary Station Indie outfit Bellbontom audaciously stage a “new” operatic work called “Track Works” at Sydney’s historic Mortuary Station. This was once a central stop to pick up the dead and their living families for transport to Rookwood. Since the advent of the motor car made the transport of the dead to the cemetery a much less grand affair, Mortuary Station has variously been an animal depot, pancake roller skating restaurant with old school carriage on the tracks as the eating house, hosted heritage events, weddings, and parties and now a site-specific performance venue. The building is adorned with angels, cherubs, and gargoyles. The Venetian 13th century Gothic-style building was designed by James Barnet and is the perfect venue for an evening of opera under the stars (at a fraction of the cost of sitting on the harbour!). It feels like such a resonant place for art. Arriving at the venue on a stormy weekday night, patrons are greeted with a cute bar and before long are ushered onto the performance platform. There are actual numbered seats, tiered so that all get a great view along the platform, and well-placed screens which display the re-written lyrics of some of the most well-known operatic repertoire. Directed by Clemence Williams, “Track Works” explores the great equalising power of transport delays. It’s done by cutting and pasting well known operatic repertoire together, and rewriting the lyrics to reveal story and character. Four travellers and a station guard wait for a train that never comes and (spoiler) it never will! A homeless woman, Sam (Sophie Mohler) has taken shelter under the platform roof. Two schoolgirls Jess (Eden Shifroni) and Jo (Lily Harper) are breaking lose and enjoying their freedom with endless bottles of booze. An office worker (or maybe a teacher), Jane (Anastasia Gall) is at the end of a long day. Station Master, Bill (Michael Kauffman) tries to keep all in order and when he calls it a night his final act of compassion celebrates all that can be good about the bonds formed on a suburban train platform. The operatic voices soar in this vaulted space. None more so than Eden Shifroni’s crystal clear soprano and her interpretation of “Sempre Libera” from La Traviata. Each character gets an aria and most often sings with another character as the story and relationships are revealed. Other moments that linger are “Song to the Moon” from Rusalka sung by Sophie Mohler; Anastasia Gall’s “Je Veux Vivre from Romeo and Juliet; “Io Sono Docile” from The Barber of Seville sung by Lily Harper; and Michael Kauffman’s rendition of “Largo al Factotem” also from Barber. The ensemble singing is magnificent and although the Humming Chorus was a bit obvious as a closer it was beautifully done. Interspersed are the recognisable chimes and announcements of delays and hold ups. They are humorous as are the altered lyrics. It really is the case “you have to be there” to appreciate the jokes so I won’t repeat some of the cleverer text here. Someone offstage is accompanying on an electronic keyboard and the sound is more or less well delivered to the stage. It would be great to sit in this location and hear more acoustic sounds - hopefully this team will return to the venue with an even grander production. As we observe strangers interacting across the 45 minutes of the production, the composition of each scene is mesmerising. The performance was blessed by a fierce wind that didn’t interfere with the vocal projection but was and incredible addition to the movement of various props used – toilet paper, bunches of written notes and safety tape flew in operatic gestures in ways impossible in a traditional venue. Adequately lit by theatrical fixtures the real magic comes from passing commuter trains nearby, lit by their subtle interiors becoming ever more present as night fell. As we look out into the web of train tracks, and beyond to the looming city, humanity’s thrum subsides, and we start to make sense of the picture before us. The humble individual stories taking place on the now abandoned train platform really are the stuff of opera. This unique event has all the hallmarks of stylish and upmarket opera meets indie, emerging artists strutting their considerable talents. Not to be missed! Kate Gaul

Omusubi Productions Old Fitz “The Face of Jizo” is a Japanese play by Hisashi Inoue (1994) in a version by Australian translator Roger Pulvers. The action takes place in Hiroshima in 1948, three years after the city was levelled by an atomic bomb. The story revolves around a daughter and survivor Mitsue - a young librarian - and the special relationship she shares with her father, Takezo. Having lost friends and family in the war, he is the only person with whom she can openly talk. What happened to this father and daughter in the moments after the blast form the themes of this funny and deeply moving drama. Takezo’s wish for his daughter’s anguish to be acquitted from her survivor guilt drives the narrative. It's rare for us to see a play that explores the destruction of Hiroshima and its aftermath from a Japanese point of view. This engrossing drama presented by a stellar team of creatives. Mayu Iwasaki playing daughter Mitsue is the beating heart of the production and brings enormous emotion, grace, and charisma to this central role. She creates a detailed world both inside her flat where the action takes place; her workplace, the library; and the horrors of the aftereffects of the bomb. There is a sense of time slowing down in this space as action, image and relationship are given weight as the story unfolds. It is a pleasure to watch. One small scene where Mitsue rehearses a puppet show for the children at the library is a delight and highlights Mayu Iwasaki’s considerable skill in manipulating objects and a great example of the care taken in every aspect of this production. Shingo Usami plays father Takezo with his trademark warmth and humour. Usami also co-directs with David Lynch, and they combine the art of Japanese and Australian aesthetics and storytelling. Thankfully they get out of the way of this powerful play and let it do its work without needless embellishment. Me-Lee Hay, composer, provides a rich and haunting piece of music which is used sparingly, appropriately. Sound designer Zachary Saric isn’t encouraged to provide bomb-like sounds or eerie post war underscore. The sound world is – like other aspects of the production – elegant. Tobhiyah Stone Feller (designer) creates a post war Japanese interior with elevated tatami mat covered platform and kitchenette. The objects sit ingeniously on the stage, and we feel the space breath with the drama. Mat Cox (Lighting Design) brings his refined restraint to the space and with is artistry reminds us that often less is more. Respect! What or who is the Jiso of the title? The Jiso is a small stone Buddhist statue and if you haven’t been to Japan, you may have seen one in a Japanese film such as the Studio Ghibli’s “Tonari no Totoro”. The primary role of Jizo is to protect children, and the souls of unborn babies. The Jizo appears to protect these children from devils and hide them in his clothing from the evil spirits. Jizo looks after them as a guardian on behalf of their parents. To say anything more would be to reveal the perfect theatrical twist of the story. No spoilers here! The play has a unique structure with a coda or resolution to the storytelling. Just another reason to check out this understated offering at the Old Fitz this month. With the 78th anniversary of the atomic bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki having just passed, the relevance of this play cannot be understated, especially as world history is on the brink of repeating itself with the ever-present threat of escalating warfare. Kate Gaul

Boom Slanted Theatre KXT Broadway Slanted Theatre presents “Boom” by Singaporean playwright Jean Tay. Developed at the Royal Court in London and developed by the Singapore Repertory Company, “Boom” is now a set text for schools in Singapore. With this terrific pedigree it is a pleasure to see this play presented in Sydney. Set in land-scarce Singapore during a time of property boom – around 2008 - as seen by the surge in en-bloc sales, which coincides with the implementation of a government policy of exhuming graves that are more than 15 years old, "Boom" has much to say to us. My guest on the evening I attended the production is Singaporean and – to attest to the authenticity of this story – he felt as if the play was telling his lived experience. Performed in English, Hokkein and Singlish slang, “Boom” is a rich evening in the theatre with themes to be savoured. “Boom” tells the story of an elderly woman and her property agent son in Singapore, who are struggling over the potential en bloc sale of their home. A common en-bloc scenario is one where all the units in a strata-titled development are sold to developer and proceeds are divided amongst all the unit owners. Mother and Son’s destinies become interwoven with that of an idealistic civil servant, Jeremiah, who is facing the greatest challenge of his career—persuading a reluctant corpse to yield its memories. “Boom” is a poignant tale about the relocation of both dead and living. It's about how personal stories get left behind in the inexorable march of progress. Director Tiffany Wong has assembled the perfect cast. Josephine Lee is outstanding as the ambitious son Boon who craves social advancement and forgets too soon what it is to love a home. Melissa Gan plays multiple roles and is memorable as the fast-talking agent who chases luxury, turning sand into gold and that precious dollar! Natalie Low is a standout in her interpretation of the elderly neighbour and Tiang Lim impresses in her debut as the Boon’s mum. Daniel Mackenzie, Jordan Zhu and Gerwin Widjaja complete the cast. Hats off to Widjaja for commitment and zest in creating a living corpse. “Boom” has everything from naturalism to surrealism and Tiffany Wong and her creative team admirably support the cast in bringing this often-poignant story to the stage. One thing is certain in our life and that is death. “Boom” reminds us to hold onto our precious dreams and question the march of time. Boon’s childhood dream of being Superman are so easily crushed by a domineering father and yet is at the core of his conflict with his mum. His father chained him to a tree in the garden for an entire night and that is his most powerful memory. His mother is unwilling to leave precisely because of her own memories of the place: it is where she started a new life as a young wife and mother in the 1970s; and though her husband abandoned her many years ago, she still believes that one day he will return - and how will he find her if she is not there? This family narrative is both literal and metaphoric. When paired with the story a civil servant who must exhume a corpse because the land is being returned to the government the play reveals how human emotion and dignity can sometimes be crushed under the onslaught of efficiency. “Boom” resonates now in our own cashed strapped economy on one hand and rising house prices on the other. There is just so much great theatre being made in Singapore let’s hope that Slanted Theatre delivers other gems to Sydney audiences. Kate Gaul

The Medium Independent Theatre Operantics is a Sydney based community opera company dedicated to creating opportunities for Australian artists to perform and for audiences to have a financially accessible opera experience. In October 2023 the company produced “The Medium” (1946) by Gian Carlo Menotti. It is performed in two acts over 70 minutes. This is a delicious divertissement staged at the glorious North Sydney Independent Theatre. Written in the aftermath of World War II, it invites audiences into the parlour of down at heel Madame Flora, a self-proclaimed spiritualist who survives conducting seances for grieving parents, using her own daughter Monica as a stand-in for their dead children. One evening, during one emotionally charged session, Flora suddenly feels an invisible hand grip her throat. Is this the spirit world seeking revenge? Works like this throw a spotlight on the enormous grief that followed World War II where so many families lost loved ones and were never to know what actually happened to them. It also allowed familiet to discuss death, belief,and find solace in "what id? What follows is the tragic story of the tormented Madame Flora, daughter Monica, and Toby – a mute servant boy to whom Flora is deliberately cruel. The small chamber ensemble, conducted by Phillip Eames sits to one side, and the action is directed by Jane Magão on the split level of the Independent Stage. Design by Ian Warwick sees the stage decorated with flickering candles which create a terrific atmosphere as we enter the theatre. Flora’s shabby apartment is pulled together from various naturalistic bits and pieces - always tricky on a shoestring budget. The interpretation of the opera for this production is fairly safe. A drunken impoverished fraudster is at the heart of the piece. The world into which the needy venture feels squalid, low rent, the music is jarring and creepy. With less attempt at faithful realism the creative team could have lifted the rug on polite society and possibly created a chilling, noir-esque, intoxicatingly subversive world where fate and justice weave a nightmarish spell. There is something very unsettling about Menotti’s tense masterpiece after all! Costuming is detailed and more successfully rendered, conjuring both period, class, and character detail. The strong ensemble of singers bring the music and story to life. Elena Marcello as the bereaved widow Mrs Nolan - who is visiting Madame Flora for the first time – is assured. Mr and Mrs Gobineau are played by a stoic Ian Warwick and a heart-breaking Maria Hemphill. The Gobineaus - both veteran visitors to Flora’s salon - "communicate" with their deceased two-year-old son Mickey, who, having never learned to speak, only laughs. Maria Hemphill’s fine voice combined with her physical stillness gave her work a deep, sorrowful resonance and aided in providing a truthful context for participation in séance and other rituals to communicate with the dead. The role of daughter Monica was split between Louise Keast and Operantics Artistic Director Katie Miller-Crispe. The performance I attended Miller- Crispe gave a solid and moving performance of an unfortunate child both as unwilling participant in her mother’s fraudulent schemes and peacemaker during Flora’s drunken rages. The story ultimately revolves around the mute Toby’s tragic silence. Sam Martin as Toby was light, imaginative and physically articulate as he portrayed with subtle vulnerability. According to the composer, “The Medium” is actually a play of ideas. It describes the tragedy of a woman caught between two worlds, a world of reality which she cannot wholly comprehend, and a supernatural world in which she cannot believe.” Ruth Strutt is a magnificent Flora in this production with vocal chops to die for. She portrays the dismayed and drunken Flora with a ferocious energy from her cruel and empty tricks played on her clients to her eventual descent into madness. Thrilling work! Kate Gaul

Legs on the Wall declares its mission as: “To make meaning in a rapidly changing world through transformative physical theatre.” Playing at the impressive (and now award-winning) House of Oz the production of “Beetle” is a sensational blend of theatre, circus, animation, and storytelling, has a strong environmental message and underlines that everyone has a place in the world and even the smallest voice matters. A large tree sits on the stage. A screen sits behind it. The trunk and branches are painted in a pale colour to reflect the many projections (video designer Susie Henderson). This is the tree around which, on which and from which the talented performers (Lloyd Alison-Young and Christy Tran) will climb, swing and fly. Tree represents the prototypical tree in the time before humans uprooted so much of the plant life on Earth. Tree has a voice (Vick Van Hoot) and they narrate the journey. Simon the beetle is one of the fast-disappearing Australian Christmas beetles. He is searching for his lost family. Sally, the child of the piece initially enters looking for a beetle to catch. A friendship ensues between Sally and Simon and a stunning true-blue Aussie narrative begins, complete with crickets, dog barks and other very recognisable suburban backyard sounds (Sound Designer Luke Smiles and Composer Jessica Dunne). The projections are illustrated by Freya Blackwood. This is a super useful element in a touring show like “Beetle” – easy to deliver and consistently high quality. The story of the tree and a history of time are etched into the tree and Simon and Sally go in search of Simon’s family. On the way we meet third and fourth characters – Fergus the stick insect and a bush turkey become both allies and barriers to the quest (both played by Olivia Hadley). Sally’s urge to collect souvenirs on the way bring her into conflict with Simon and she learns to respect her environment – leaving only footprints and taking only memories. The allegorical framework and our connection to nature is obvious here. But a great one to have with the youngsters for whom the production is created. And the kids in the audience were captivated. Especially thrilling is a chase scene up and down the vertical tree trunk as the illusion created is that Sally is running, running, running as projections of falling trees crash around her. The melding of all elements, here, is outstanding. The production ends with a charming petal drop. Some of the petals are tiny seed packets for the audience to collect and take home. The cast join the young audience and hunting for the seed packets and there is time for one-on-one chats. I am sure this will come to a town near you – don’t miss it. Great work by Legs on the Wall, "Beetle" is created and directed by Joshua Thomson and Kate Walder. Kate Gaul

I adore Playwright Kieran Hurley’s “Mouthpiece”so I was keen to see “Adults”. Alienation and the gulf between generations is explored as is the futility of blame culture and how we make things better for those who come after us. This is a black comedy which at first glance can feel a little formulaic in the writing, but its ultimate message is something that resonates. Set in Edinburgh’s New Town Zara (Dani Heron) is a sex worker, and her brothel is an ethical one – run as a worker’s collective – and she’s proud of the judgement-free service on offer. A new client turns up, before her colleague Jay (Anders Hayward) arrives. The client (Conleth Hill) turns out to be her former English teacher, Mr Urquhart, or Iain. Cringe! He told her she could do anything. But she’s found that that’s not true in the gig economy world she entered when she left university. Jay finally turns up, with a baby in a pusher. It’s a bit of a mood killer. Iain hasn’t been to a brothel before, and he and Jay must work out what exactly Iain wants. Ian’s life hasn’t worked out the way he imagined either. He’s nervous, scared and now embarrassed. He believes he’s acting on his attraction to young men to neutralise his growing misery with his marriage, his job, his kids – his entire life. Reality keeps intruding on this potentially fantastic encounter. There’s a lot of inevitable chatting to work through Hurley’s serious capitalist themes. The crux of the matter is that all three characters have more in common then they might imagine. Most of the play is farce and the technical brilliance of this cast on it’s A-game is a pleasure to watch. Zara’s business-like bravado and plain-speaking approach to her business are perfectly captured by Dani Heron. Jay’s reckless desperation as he faces his own aging process and mounting financial pressures are note-perfect in the hands of Anders Hayward. Conleth Hill’s portrayal of self-loathing and defensiveness drives the drama. He’s done everything right, hasn’t he? So why does it all feel so wrong? Roxanna Silbert directs this neat three-hander in a way that we connect with each character, and not just a bunch of foibles for fun. It often feels like a play of two flavours – the farce and the state of the nation. One of the challenges of the piece is to flip from farce, gags, and comic timing to the ultimate sexual encounter that Jay and Iain must navigate. This is not an easy ask. The final moments when Iain allows himself to be held by Jay is both satisfying, tragic and earned. Doomed we may well be but let’s have a laugh and if comfort comes your way – grab it. Kate Gaul

Song of the Goat Theatre (Teatr Pieśń Kozła) is one of the leading avant-garde theatres, inspired by the thought and work of Jerzy Grotowski. It is a privilege and a surprise to finally see the work this year. With the company’s focus on the darker aspects of human existence this work resonates frighteningly given the ongoing war(s) in Europe. Established in 1996 by Grzegorz Bral and Anna Zubrzycki, Song of the Goat Theatre has an international reputation as one of Europe’s most innovative training-based theatre companies, committed to researching what makes theatre distinctive among other art-forms. From its base in Wroclaw, Poland, the Company constantly develops its approaches and performances with the aim of unlocking theatre’s power to offer audiences a profound experience that can reaffirm their own sensitivity and humanity. Song of the Goat Theatre’s ever-evolving training, rehearsal and performance process is treated as laboratories, enabling the Company to research the craft of the actor and director and to develop new techniques, performance languages and work styles. A distinctive element of the Company’s practice is a search for connection, meeting, and openness as the seeds of authentic experience. This commitment to connection creates clarity around the development of each new training approach, which always seeks to integrate movement, voice, song, and text, creating performance that has an inherent musicality and connects with the audience on a sensory level. “Andronicus Synecdoche” is Song of the Goat Theatre inspired by Shakespeare’s “Titus Andronicus”, featuring original text and music which depict retaliation’s extreme cruelty. I guess you would call this a multi-disciplinary adaptation. “Andronicus Synecdoche” distils the brutal violence of the original text. The large cast of 14 work as a brilliant ensemble with folk instrumentals and choral music (a highlight), physical theatre and text in English and Polish. The lyrics and new text are projected for the audience and cast speak Shakespeare’s original text. It’s all tricky to follow and helpful if you know the bones of the Shakespearean story. “Titus Andronicus” is arguably Shakespeare's most violent play. In Song of the Goat's version, condensing it to just over an hour concentrates its violence and brings the women characters to the fore. It’s bleak as a meditation on sexual violence with the ravaged Lavina bearing the brunt of literally and metaphorically state sanctioned violence against women. Severe choreography and all-black costumes create a sense of unrelenting brutality. I found the staging awkward at times with main action happening towards the back of the stage. There is no denying the discipline within the company and the integration of music and movement is very fine. The challenge of “Andronicus Synecdoche” – and one that has been mentioned in reviews everywhere - is that a character, Aaron, is a white actor, though often referred to as black. It was downright confusing as I expected this company – who depict of other kinds of systemic violence with sensitivity and power – to be aware and responsible for presenting intersectionality with intelligence. This intellectual confusion and the unremitting images violence had me turning off to the story and pleased that the work was a swift 75 minutes. Kate Gaul