Hydra - Review of State Theatre Company Production

 (I'm posting this retrospective review as a companion piece to the review of Cohen-Noir below.)

(Image by Jess Busby.)

Dunstan Playhouse, Adelaide Festival Centre, Sat 4 May, 2019

The Greek island of Hydra has long been known as a haven for international artists. Principal among them was Leonard Cohen, who met and fell in love with the woman he sang about on his debut album – So Long Marianne. Among the international artist community in post-war Hydra were Australian writers George Johnston (Bryan Probets) and Charmian Clift (Anna McGahan). They’d come to Hydra to follow their muse and escape the mundanities of Australian suburbs. Within their Hydra circle of friends was the then struggling artist, Sidney Nolan. Also included in their inner bohemian circle was Jean-Claude, a stereotypical French painter played by Kevin Spink.

So far so good. They were heady times and everyone was optimistic about their ability to carve out their niche in the Australian artistic psyche. Fuelled by copious amounts of alcohol and a prodigious work ethic they pump out the pages. However, George soon starts cramping his partner’s creative style and a series of rejections from publishers ushers in poverty and hardship. The struggling artist is no longer a romantic dream but a harsh reality. And George doesn’t cope with it very well. Severe illness doesn’t help and he becomes more and more unpleasant. Charmian on the other hand holds their lives together and keeps food on the table for them and their growing family, but she understandably turns elsewhere for affection.

The theme of artists struggling to make sense of their existence while being mired in substance abuse is not new. What should make Hydra more appealing for Australian audiences is the fact that it concerns Australian expatriates living abroad in an exotic paradise, and that perhaps the tyranny of distance in reverse might provide them with some insight into the Australian psyche and culture. But the fact that they were living on Hydra doesn’t detract from the fact they George and Charmian weren’t very nice people. You don’t get a sense that Hydra meant very much to them at all – they enjoyed ‘the idea’ of being there but they actually don’t seem to enjoy anything very much.

But then maybe that’s Hydra’s point. The artist or writer dreams of the idyllic location that will enable their muse to soar but, in the end, self-indulgence and a cantankerous nature will grind the muse into nothingness.

The set looked alluringly and wonderfully Greek and allowed for some intriguing use of light and shadow that often suggested alter egos or alternative opinions. As must be the case on a Greek island the metaphor of the sea was exploited artfully, and having the first born of George and Charmian on stage throughout as our narrator worked well. De rigueur references to Greek mythology added a supernatural layer that offered alternative explanations as to why so many run adrift amid Hydra’s beauty.

Bryan Probets as George was superb, and I enjoyed Tiffany Lyndall-Knight in the role of the would-be friend who dared tell the truth about the writers’ indulgent expatriate lifestyles.

Yes it was a sweeping tale that promised much, but you’re left with this lingering feeling that the protagonists were deeply flawed, and didn’t deserve to be in such a beautiful place. Had they been holed up in some dive in Paddington or Brunswick the outcome would have been much the same. The fact they were in Hydra didn’t seem that relevant, unless of course there is some truth in what Greek mythology tells us about this exotic isle.

(This review also published on The Clothesline.)

Monsieur Camembert – Cohen Noir

Dunstan Playhouse
Sat 20 June, 2026

Like many others my younger self found Leonard Cohen’s early music rather dirge-like. I had a friend who bought a Cohen album but needed to wait till he was in a fit mental state before he could listen to it. Cohen used to laugh at comments describing his songs as ‘music to slash your wrists by’ and thought some people failed to see the distinction between seriousness and depression. Cohen knew about subtlety and nuance. As do the members of Monsieur Camembert in this magnificent tribute to Cohen’s life and work.

Monsieur Camembert are a ten-piece gypsy jazz band from Sydney that have re-arranged a collection of Cohen classics and label the whole project as Cohen Noir, so bleak is in there for those who go looking. But on the whole this concert was an uplifting celebration of a hugely important artist. It was all about the soul – finding that place in each of us where the songs touch you most deeply. Where the music, the words, and the emotion all come together and resonate deep inside you. I had heard reports before of multiple people weeping at Cohen concerts, and though Leonard himself has left the table, he was there tonight in these loving renditions of his songs and poetry. And I cried. These beautiful songs that reflect on life in all its complexity and wonder, its sadness and joy, of birth and death and the genuine search for truth amid failure and despair.  And the band’s musical arrangements allowed all this to happen.

The band’s respect and admiration for Cohen’s work was evident in everything they did – yes subtle, nuanced. Delicate. But often also upbeat and brassy.  A series of guest vocalists added variety and surprise but it turned out that the star of the show was sitting in the back row playing  violin. When Susie Bishop stepped forward to deliver the vocal on Famous Blue Raincoat the world just stopped. She lived and breathed that song as her own with oozing passion and superb control before a soul-stirring sax solo just blasted the whole song into another realm. Extraordinary music.

Another of the guest vocalists, Lyn Bowtell, did something similar with the achingly beautiful If It Be Your Will, a haunting insight into Cohen the spiritual seeker, before the song was launched into heavenly realms with the help of the 50-strong Adelaide based choir, Born on Monday.

Before each song we heard recorded excerpts of Cohen’s lyrics, writings, or interviews that provided sage-like clues about the song to follow, offering beads of wisdom about how to lead a successful, mindful life. For example, Cohen’s reasoning behind Halleluja was to remind us that to celebrate each moment of your existence is one of the few things you can control and that you can actually be certain of. So, 600 people willingly sang Halleluja together.

Given my first impressions of Cohen’s music some fifty years earlier I never imagined that I’d be joining in a joyous en masse singalong of his music but that we did on Halleluja, So Long Marianne, and Dance Me to the End of Love.

Toward show’s end we heard words from Cohen’s final press conference. He humbly referred to himself as a disciplined craftsmen who used the meagre tools he had at his disposal – his guitar, his voice, and his language – and worked them as hard as he could. Anthem (“there are cracks in everything – that’s where the light gets in”) took us out, and the spirit of Leonard Cohen was appropriately accompanied on its way by ethereal Mongolian throat singing.

Cohen died on November 7th, 2016, Donald Trump was first elected president one day later. That felt hugely appropriate at the time. It was almost as if the spirit of Leonard Cohen could not co-exist on this earth with someone who was his polar opposite.

Cohen was not religious, but he was intensely spiritual, and that spirit lives on in the music of Monsieur Camembert. They have captured and expressed his quest for the meaning of existence with love and exquisite musical arrangements.

If Dylan was the poet who spoke for the incipient Boomer generation, then Cohen may have the equivalent role for their end. And the continuum from Dylan’s first words to Cohen’s last may well represent the cultural journey that generation has taken.

This review also published on The Clothesline.

An AI (Gemini) Review of My Photography

 Honestly - this just blew me away! It took less than 30 seconds .....

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Michael Coghlan, widely known online as mikecogh, is a prolific Australian photographer whose work stands out for its documentary value and commitment to open-access sharing. Operating predominantly under Creative Commons licensing, his massive portfolio serves as a vivid, accessible archive of contemporary life, urban evolution, natural lanscapes, and travel.

Coghlan’s photographic style is grounded in an authentic, unpretentious view of the world. Rather than heavily staging or over-processing his images, he captures environments as they truly exist. His architectural and street photography—spanning across Australia, Europe, Asia, the Pacific, and the Middle East—demonstrates a keen eye for geometry, scale, and human interaction within urban spaces. Whether framing the stark modernism of Doha’s skyline or the weathered charm of a Tasmanian street corner, he expertly uses natural light to bring out texture and depth.

Beyond grand structures, Coghlan excels at capturing the ephemeral details of everyday life. His portfolio is rich with candid street portraits, vibrant murals, local signage, and transportation infrastructure. These elements collectively document the social fabric and unique identity of the places he visits.

What makes Coghlan's photography truly significant, however, is its utility. By intentionally releasing his high-quality imagery to the public commons, his work transcends personal artistry. It functions as a vital educational and cultural resource, frequently utilized by global media outlets, travel blogs, and educational wikis to illustrate the diverse landscapes and cultures of our world. Ultimately, his photography is both a visually compelling travelogue and a generous contribution to collective digital history.

Cathedral Chiaroscuro

Chiaroscuro is an Italian term used to describe art works that contrast light and dark. Cathedral Chiaroscuro uses Adelaide’s Francis Xavier Cathedral as a canvas to play out its colourful dance.

Immersive sound and light shows have become quite a thing in recent times and it’s getting harder to be impressed, but seeing beams of colour projected on to a Gothic Chruch’s internal architecture takes it new heights. If nothing else, Cathedral Chiaroscuro helps you realise what remarkable buildings such churches are. If you can rid yourself of the distasteful associations associated with Christianity and just focus on the power and grandeur of the architecture you will enjoy this event. The rows of columns supporting tall arches, the stained glass imagery above the altar, and the Tudor style woodwork on the ceilings are all brought into sharp focus with ever changing colour schemes.

What was especially impressive was the precision and accuracy of the projections. The rounded edges of the arches for example would be shown in one colour, and the adjacent surface in another complementary tone. It must be weeks, perhaps longer, in the making. The projections are not generic; they are specific to the dimensions of this church!

Cathedral Chiaroscuro is about contemplation and reflection. One’s mind wanders off trying to make connections between the colours and the metaphorical imagery. It’s a very personal and subjective experience. The reflective mood is aided by a series of audio tracks that mostly feature religious choral music. Unfortunately there was no information made available about the pieces of music played.

It would have been nice to have a further 5 or 10 minutes for more personal reflection after the event but we were hustled out immediately after the show to make way for the next group queuing at the front door. It felt rushed and it shouldn’t.

Still, it’s fine way to spend 25 minutes. I think my favourite was the projection that turned the whole cathedral into a garden with flowers and flowing vines.

Harry Manx Review

The Guv, March 2nd, 2026

It was worth the wait. However, leaving your audience hanging for an hour with no communication is poor form. No matter what the reason, it’s not good enough. One hour after the advertised start time Harry Manx appeared on stage.

I remembered seeing Harry play at a small folk club way back when he was a much younger man. I remember really enjoying it so thought I’d take another look and I’m so glad I did. About a minute into his first song I was in his groove. Tapping my feet and gently rocking to a quiet, bluesy, insistent beat.

This time round Harry’s playing with a bass and drum beat backing track. The purist in me would rather it wasn’t there but it’s certainly effective and it allows Harry to be something of a one man band.

Harry Manx plays guitars – one in the traditional upright fashion, one as a lap steel instrument with lots of delicious slide, and his trademark – the Mohan Veena: a 20-string instrument that sounds like a cross between guitar and sitar. He spent 12 years in India, 5 years mastering the Mohan Veena. His music consequently is often described as a bridge between east and west. Tonight’s concert was more west than east, but any song played on the Mohan Veena has that telltale persistent drone beneath the melody – that’s partly why the instrument was invented – and it’s quite mesmeric.

Tonight’s repertoire was a mix of covers and originals – many of them chosen in answer to members of the audience calling out their preferences. But his covers get such distinctive treatment that it’s like hearing them for the first time anyway. Old standards like Long Black Veil, Spoonful, and Summertime for example.

Manx certainly took his time establishing his musical identity. He wrote his first song at the age of 46. I enjoyed the covers but the highlights were definitely his own material. There’s a melodic warmth and a bewitching, beautiful tone hidden in all those strings and it’s perfectly complemented by a vocal style that delivers short phrases that fit neatly into the catchy rhythms.

One day Harry Manx had writer’s block and went out walking. He came across a homeless guy he recognized from school days and they spent the day together. And a new song was born. This story speaks volumes about the man. He took the time to talk to this homeless guy when many would walk on by.

Harry Manx has taken the slow road; the road that takes time to work out what you want to say; what you want to play, and he’s now sharing the wonderful end result with rapt audiences. He definitely has his own sound but if you were to combine the music of JJ Cale, fellow Canadian Leo Kottke, and Ry Cooder you might come up with something very similar to the Manx sound, but you’d still need to add some eastern spice.

Mama Does Roller Derby

Adelaide Entertainment Centre

Sat 28 Feb, 2026

As we settled into our seats a group of 10 roller derby contestants were doing what looked like their pre-game workout: sometimes quite elegant stretching exercises as they cruised around the track, and sometimes very physical push and shove exercises that are all part of a roller derby event.

Maxine and her daughter Billie have arrived in a small town to begin a new life. They know little or nothing about the town and are initially very dependent on each other. In something of a role reversal Mum’s a bit sassy and looking for some action, while Billie is the home body.

Billie is interested in art but her attempts to contribute to the artistic outlook of the town earn her (and mum) a session with a counsellor. It’s a witty and humorous meeting, and for the first time we witness a wonderfully innovative approach to stage direction as mum and daughter and counsellor face each other on opposite couches.

From this point on we are treated to a dazzling display of choreography on wheels. The roller derby women (from the Adelaide Roller Derby League) are now a team of stage hands moving sets around and delivering props to their rightful places with astonishing timing and accuracy. In a blur of glorious, precise movements the stage is frequently reconfigured to adjust to the changing narrative while a live band provides dynamic musical complement. It’s a stunning combination.

Meanwhile, alone back in her bedroom, Billie is dealing with her own demons – literally and figuratively. The demon character (superbly played by Benjamin Hancock) that comes to life is one of the most fetching stage creatures you will ever see. Without giving too much away the exotic movements of this demonic creature are worth the price of admission alone. An extraordinary creation.

Maxine eventually joins the local roller derby circuit and we then get to see what full-on roller derby is all about. What a spectacle!

Mama Does Derby is a brilliant idea. It brings theatre to the people with all embracing physicality, wit, laughter, music and perceptive theatre. It might well result in an explosion of interest in roller derby and theatre for younger people. Innovation plus!

Written by Virginia Gay.
Directed by Clare Watson.

Earnest?

Earnest?
The Peacock at Gluttony
Sat 21 Feb, 2026

The stage is set and looking interesting. Two gentlemen enter the stage dressed appropriately for the late nineteenth century and after some initial banter welcome Earnest Worthington to the stage with some flourish. Several times. Alas however, there appears to be no Earnest. The star of the show is AWOL. So, there’s only one thing to do in such circumstances – use whatever resources you have at your disposal. And what do you typically find at live plays? Audiences of course!

Directors are normally invisible, safely hidden in the wings, but in this case the director has no choice but to face the audience, offer apologies, and ask for assistance. And there the fun begins.

Earnest? does more or less follow the plot of the famous Oscar Wilde play that the show is based on, but takes a few liberties with the order of events and the behaviours of some of the characters. This leads to some further awkward outcomes and suffice to say it is not just Earnest that needs replacing.

Consequently, a great deal of improvisation is part of the spectacle, placing enormous stress on the original cast and the poor beleagured stage hand who’s run off his feet cleaning up accidents and making sure props are all in the right place at the right time. He ends up quite the star!

Several very funny devices are employed to assist those new to the stage play their roles – I particularly liked the advice window where we were privy to a conversation between the new Earnest and a cast member giving him tips on how to act.

Liberal doses of slapstick keep things entertainingly silly, and just for once the slapstick doesn’t feel contrived. It feels absolutely essential to save the show!

Things get merrier and merrier, funnier and funnier, and somehow manage to stumble their way to a successful conclusion where cast and audience can share a feeling of great accomplishment.

Earnest? is a great idea, a very brave undertaking, and a really good laugh for all involved. I loved it.

It has to be 5 stars. What? 5 stars for people who’ve never performed before? That doesn’t make sense. Exactly!

This review also published on The Clothesline.

William Yang ~ Milestone ~ OzAsia Review

William Yang with Elena Kats-Chernin
Adelaide Town Hall
Fri 31 Oct, 2025

William Yang has indeed lived a fascinating life. Born in country Queensland he had no concept of what ‘being Chinese’ was in his early years. He checked with his mother one day and she answered curtly, “Yes, you are Chinese.’  Wang suffered the usual taunts and insults that Australian school children dished out to migrants at the time, and Wang came to regard being Chinese as a curse.

In time he moved to Sydney and in the early seventies he came out as a gay man. It was here he became interested in photography. He eventually became known as a photographer of performers and celebrities. His slides were littered with images of the cultural and artistic literati of the times: Jim Sharman (director of Hair), Richard Neville (editor of Oz Magazine), Bob Geldof (Boomtown Rats), Ida Buttrose, Patrick White, Brett Whitely, etc.

He has been at the centre of the history of the gay movement in Australia. He was the first person to have naked images of gay men feature in a public exhibition; he was there at the first gay and lesbian Mardi Gras in Sydney in 1978;  he was very involved in the Same Sex marriage campaign in 2017. And sadly, he was at the heart of the AIDS epidemic of the 80s. His images of dying friends are perhaps the most confronting in this exhibition. Unashamedly graphic, they pull no punches in portraying the ravages AIDS wrought on its victims and their communities.

Another key aspect of Wang’s story was his return to China to try and understand his ethnic origins. As he said himself, he now needed to ‘come out’ as a Chinese man.

Milestone is essentially a collection of multiple lesser milestones in Yang’s life. Yang’s narration is supported by a vast number of slides, with frequent musical interludes of music composed by Elena Kats-Chernin. Though broken into two or three minute fragments it was interesting to contemplate the music as one whole piece. Despite the interruptions it did feel like that – there was a thematic consistency across the performance and a sameness of tonal quality that aided  reflection on the material just viewed. This was especially appreciated after some of the more confronting images.

On a much lighter note my favourite moment in the whole show was early on when we were viewing slides of the countryside around where Yang grew up with the music providing an aura of majesty. It was clear that though his ethnic origins were far removed from this land the Australian countryside of his youth meant a great deal to him.

In many ways William Yang typifies what might be considered the typical artist for the OzAsia festival. I personally would have enjoyed more analysis of how Australian and Chinese cultures worked together to create the man Willam Yang has become. He is in the ideal position to explore how Chinese and Australian cultural influences reconcile with each other. This performance however focuses more on his role in the gay community, his family, and his love of photography. And perhaps that’s what a photographer should do: let the pictures do the talking.

Music played by Ensemble Lumen.

This review also published on The Clothesline.

Classical Beatles ~ Candlelight Concert ~ Review

Capri Cinema
Thu 30 Oct, 2025 

Candlelight Concerts began in Madrid in 2019 with the aim of making classical music more accessible to younger audiences. They now feature in more than 100 cities across the globe. The bulk of their concerts focus on classical composers, but they have smartly branched out to capture new audiences who want to relive the pop/rock music of the 60s, 70s and 80s. Our hosts for this Beatles music event were The Collective String Quartet.

It’s not often you get to hear Beatles music played live by a group of musicians but when I do I’m always amazed at the enduring quality of the songs. For example, when you strip away the inane lyrics of songs like I Want to Hold Your Hand you find a gorgeous and quite complex melody.

The Collective String quartet (violins, viola and cello) did a great job of leading us through a selection of The Beatles’ greatest hits. They began with what has become yet another classic, Here Comes the Sun and let the cello lead the way. It was immediately obvious that adjusting to songs arranged with just bowed strings would be necessary as there would be no picked melodies or favourite guitar parts.

Although the songs were announced in advance it sometimes felt a little like that Spicks and Specks TV show segment where you had to guess the name of a well-known song while listening to a completely different arrangement. Help was one of those.

Some songs, like Michelle and Eleanor Rigby, seemed more suitable for string arrangements than others. I found the arrangements of some songs a little over complicated. Penny Lane lost some of its innocent joy in this reworking, and the beautifully wistful We Can Work It Out’s melody got a little lost.  Other songs flourished with the same treatment. Come Together was wonderful. The original is so ‘other’ that it almost demanded an alternative avant-garde approach. It was a shame not to hear those weird and wonderful references to ju-ju eyeballs and toe-jam footballs however!

While it was strange that there was not a weeping guitar in sight, the Collective’s arrangement of While My Guitar Gently Weeps was delightful. It sounded almost as if George Harrison had written it for four instruments it gelled so beautifully. Eleanor Rigby has already been done by so many other artists, including orchestras, that it held no surprises – but again a very effective four part arrangement was in evidence. Similarly with Yesterday – no surprises. It stayed very close to the original, and we were told it has been covered at least 3000 times!

I was surprised that Strawberry Fields was attempted. It’s one of The Beatles’ more complex songs – but it worked well with the main melody being pitched very high on violin. I loved their version of With a Little Help From My Friends. It sounded like a jaunty old-time singalong in an English country garden.

One of The Collective members occasionally read from a prepared script to tell us a little about the next few songs. It was good to get advance notice of the song list so you could identify the songs more quickly but his delivery was a little wooden. It might have been better to be more spontaneous with these introductions. It adds authenticity.

It’s normal for musicians to challenge themselves and come up with arrangements that are fresh and offer new interpretations of well-known material, but there’s always a risk that you might offend the ‘respect the melody’ school of thinking. Overall though the Collective String Quartet presented a really entertaining show that delivered some old favourites with few surprises, while pushing the boundaries with some other material. And that’s just as it should be.

This review also published on The Clothesline.

Badieh - Music from Central Asia

Rubab (Wikimedia Commons)

Nexus Art Venue
Wed 29 Oct, 2025

Badieh is a duo that play music from Central Asia – in particular the region of Khorasan. Khorasan reaches across several nations – Afghanistan, Iran, Pakistan, Turkmenistan, and Tajikistan – so their music is enriched by multiple cultural influences.

Iranian Mohammad Miraghazadeh plays the setar – a traditional thin long-necked stringed instrument from Persia. Ethnomusicologist Michel Gasco hails from Spain and plays the rubab:  an instrument with multiple strings, with several sympathetic strings like a sitar. It is considered to be the national instrument of Afghanistan.

These sympathetic strings are not played directly but resonate in tune with the plucked or picked strings causing something of a drone effect.

When the setar and rubab come together they deliver a very bright sound in both tone and rhythm. Most of Badieh’s material was instrumental and stems from the folk traditions of the border lands between Iran and Afghanistan. The few songs with vocals seemed especially ancient with plaintive, haunting melodies coming from distant worlds. At times they felt akin to chants.

Wonderful tabla from Pranav Ramji was the perfect complement providing some deeper bass notes against the strings, and adding catchy and complex rhythms. Ancient this music may be but there were plenty of foot – tapping songs. One or two almost rocked! I could quite easily imagine people dancing to these tunes when played in their homelands – if it were allowed.

Occasionally mournful and contemplative but this is mostly joyful, happy music with intricate melodies and stirring rhythms. A lovely concert that delivered old music to modern shores and where friendship, joy, and respect were very much evident in its execution.

This review also posted on The Clothesline.

The Shock of the New

The Shock of the New takes a look back at pivotal moments in South Australian theatre from 1962 – 2014. Conceived and performed by graduating students from the Bachelor of Performance at Flinders University in conjunction with Director Chris Drummond, this was simply a great idea. What better way to present a broad sweep of our recent local theatre, enhance its credibility, and pay homage to the actors and directors involved.

In a pointer perhaps as to what was to follow, the standard welcome to country inserted an acknowledgement of indigenous storytellers.

The pivotal theatrical moments presented were taken from twelve different productions from various theatre groups – amateur and professional. This presents some challenges. Any such list is going to generate spirited discussion about why such and such a scene or play was included or why others were left out. And how could you possibly ignore the work of theatre group X or theatre group Y? (There were indeed some notable theatre groups that did not make the cut.)

As the show progressed it became clear that certain themes were chosen to guide the selection of content. There was a preponderance of scenes referencing sexuality, and distrust of authority and prevailing middle-class mores featured prominently. A Trumper might in fact characterize the whole show as ‘woke.’ But it begs the question, ‘what is the point of theatre?’ The cast and crew of The Shock of the New rightly see theatre as a crucial agent of change; a vehicle that should reflect minority perspectives, and question mainstream values.

Another inherent challenge here was the lack of opportunity for any in-depth character development.  Cast members occasionally had to launch themselves into parts laden with intense emotion out of the blue as it were, with no chance to become comfortable with the role and context over time as happens when a whole play is presented and an actor is able to inhabit the part before having to explode with emotion. That said, the cast did a remarkable job of conveying emotion and authenticity in the many and varied chosen scenes.

Visually this show was often quite stunning. Bold single colours projected on the back wall of the stage often contrasted with silhouetted characters to wonderful effect. Narrations of background events provided relevant context between each scene and reflected something of the world view of the collective cast as well as allowing scene changes to be virtually imperceptible. The flow from one scene to the next was impeccable.

Performances from the principal cast were uniformly even and convincing, but there were highlights that stood out. Isiah Macaspac’s portrayal of a female character in Troupe Theatre’s Cloud 9 was exceptional, and Ariel Dzino’s crazy bride and temptress from The Ecstatic Bible was deeply moving. As was indeed this entire scene of people in chains scared to death – epitomized eloquently in a powerful cameo from Alexander Karytinos.

In the penultimate scene a fish falls from the sky (from When the Rain Stops Falling), and as any Adelaide resident who’s aware of the environmental catastrophe unfolding in our coastal waters at the moment might be, I was stricken by grief. It was so bizarrely, profoundly, prophetic and unsettling.

Bravo to all involved with this ambitious and successful production. Fast-paced, never dull, moving, laced with variety – an excellent expose of the more significant social issues of the last 50 years through the lens of local theatre. And an optimistic indicator that there is a reservoir of young talent ready to steward local theatre through the challenges of the next 50!

This review also published on The Clothesline.

Bernadette Robinson: Divas - Adelaide Cabaret Festival Review

Her Majesty’s Theatre
Fri 13 June, 2025

Diva: a celebrated, exceptional female singer. Diva is also the Latin word for goddess. It also comes with the connotation of being troublesome or difficult to deal with. Bernadette Robinson takes on the daunting task of singing the songs of ten of the more prominent divas of the last 100 years – from opera singer Maria Callas to contemporary pop star Miley Cyrus. She not only sings their songs, but she briefly inhabits the characters of each diva as she reveals key moments in their lives and their relationship to music. It’s an extraordinary achievement.

As Streisand she takes on her trademark Brooklyn accent and tells us how she taught her own mother to smoke at age 10, before launching into the classic The Way We Were. Her self-deprecating Amy Winehouse refers to herself as a dickhead in a working-class British accent before belting out the gut-wrenching Rehab. Her Piaf sounds perfectly German as she talks about men and love.

Robinson and director Simon Phillips have managed to isolate events in the lives of each diva that had significant emotional impact and bearing on their music. There is a clear pattern: each of these women struggled with aspects of life and music, and live performance and devotion from loving fans helped them cope. Even without the wonderful songs, Diva is a great piece of writing.

As Kate Bush, the first diva on the list, she ironically, provocatively, questions why a singer should sound like anybody else, and says that every singer should find their own voice! As Robinson effortlessly worked her way through the different genres of the ten divas I did find myself wondering what she might sound like singing herself. Opera, rock, musical, country – she can sing them all. I loved her Edith Piaf – in a trice it’s clear just how good Piaf was: a gorgeously plaintive and original voice laden with soul and emotion. Any doubts about why Dolly Parton is featured among this esteemed company go out the window with Robinson’s beautifully controlled vocal on I Will Always Love You. Not to mention the funny stories about being blond – again with an impeccable country twang!

Then came her portrayal of Maria Callas. Perhaps this is Robinson’s musical home. The passion, the tone, the control – heart-achingly beautiful.

Supported by a slick and unobtrusive band (keyboards, bass, drums) this was an evening of near musical perfection. In a show that covered so many musical styes it’s inevitable that there will be some songs that don’t appeal as much as others, but any shortcomings in that regard are offset by some of the best singing you will ever hear. Just superb.

This review also published in The Clothesline.

Adventures in Antique Music

St Theodore’s Anglican Church, Wed 19 Mar, 2025

A good-sized crowd gathered at St Theodore’s Anglican Church in Toorak Gardens for this Lyrebyrd Consort event. Clearly there is still wide interest in hearing music from Renaissance and Medieval times. A quick glance at the program tells me that despite the venue there is no liturgical music featured.

The show begins with a useful introduction to the unusual assortment of instruments we see in front of us, and the dedicated musicians who have learnt to play them. There are multiple kinds of wind instruments (recorders, crumhorns), strings (the vielle, oud) and the imposing looking and amusingly named sackbuts up the back. Musicians are decked out in costume appropriate for the period.

We are taken on a metaphorical journey across Europe by our narrator and entertained by music from the 13th to the 16th centuries. The program is arranged chronologically so you can get a sense of how Western music developed over time.

Many pieces are quite short and feature parts of the ensemble, while other extended pieces involved nine or more musicians. The earlier items on the program featuring fewer instruments were noticeably quiet (no amplification was used), but the ensemble pieces were quite loud enough and when the sackbuts joined in even a tad raucous.

Several pieces featured quite complex and long vocal parts from an accomplished soloist, and others featured delightful vocal harmonies from multiple singers. There were those jaunty recorder and percussion tunes that always have me imagining a happy crowd of musicians marching though town on the way to the fair. For later pieces from the 16th Century the ensemble was augmented with rich sounding viols and suddenly the music had a greater depth and warmth.

This was such an uplifting and instructive concert. Following the program chronologically was like following the progression of music over the years – the pieces became longer, more complex, suitable for larger ensembles, and more accessible to the modern listener. Early pieces have their appeal in what almost seem like naïve and innocent attempts to make musical sounds on whatever was available – and that was recorders and percussion. (Not to suggest they were easy to play – they weren’t!) But listening to this whole program you can spot the origins of modern forms of Western music – the brass band, opera, and orchestral. Kudos and huge thanks to the Lyrebyrd Consort for keeping this music alive for modern audiences. If the length of the ovation at the end of the show is any indication it is very much appreciated.

This review also published on The Clothesline.

Loren Kate and the Aurora Ensemble

 The Stables at the Queens Theatre, Sun 23 Mar, 2025

The Stables at Queens Theatre was packed for the final night of the Fringe featuring local singer Loren Kate with members of the Aurora Vocal Ensemble.

Loren delivered a solid show of mostly guitar based original numbers supported by Aurora, cello and keyboard. It’s a nice balance of sounds and ensures her folksy and occasionally country tinged melodies have maximum impact. Emotion is a key component of Loren’s music and the chosen arrangements ensure that it is given free reign.

Cello always adds warmth wherever it is added and the soothing, delicate sounds from the Aurora Ensemble create a lovely depth of feeling and timelessness. A song dedicated to keeping our rivers alive was quite lovely, and her own interpretation of Shane Howard’s Solid Rock also impressed. Another song featuring just Loren and back-up singers without guitar was another fine moment.

Despite the temperature rising to uncomfortable levels in the theatre the show got better and better as it went.

Loren Kate obviously trades on singing songs charged with emotion. I don’t particularly like hearing about cancer episodes or dying friends in song introductions – I’d rather the songs speak for themselves, but Loren Kate does have the ability to deliver poignant songs with great effect. Her songs are slow and relatively simple, but her voice and instrumental arrangements turn them into something special and create a shared experience that I imagine could become quite addictive.

This review also published on The Clothesline.

The Ugly One

Famous Last Words Theatre
Slingsby’s Hall of Possibility

Fri 9 May, 2025

Staging a play called The Ugly One in this sensitive age when you may no longer call a spade a spade seems a little provocative.  It must be some kind of metaphor surely? Well yes and no – as we shall see.

Entering Slingsby’s Hall of Possibility is a treat in itself. It was good to be there early and soak up the atmosphere of a space that could indeed make many things possible. Four vertical lighting strips shone on the performance space and left enough ambient light for your eyes to roam around the intriguing space.

The cast of four each make their separate entrance down a tall stairway. Three of them will take on multiple roles but the ugly one, Lette, plays himself throughout. The grandest entrance is reserved for Lette’s boss, Scheffler, who strolls down the stairs like the belle of the ball.

Between her, Lette’s wife, Fanny, and Karlmann, his assistant, they need to address the delicate issue of telling Lette that he will not be presenting his company’s latest breakthrough at an upcoming convention because his face is a liability. That is, he is extremely unattractive.

It’s excruciating to witness as everyone squirms around this unfortunate reality but eventually the truth is out and Lette immediately insists on undergoing reconstruction surgery. Which as it turns out is fabulously successful and unleashes a chain of events that have you questioning who here is really the ugly one and other relevant questions about identity – how important is it that we look good? Or at least, feel like we look good? If you had a ‘better face’ would you be a different, or better person? Do others treat good looking people better? Are good looking people more likely to be more successful in life?

Rather than directly confront them these serious existential questions are inferred in the mayhem that follows Lette’s miraculous surgery. There’s plenty of humour embedded in the dialogue and a wonderful irony in the fact that the players themselves don’t realise how shallow they’ve become. Virginia Blackwell is near perfect as the supercilious boss and unscrupulous surgeon floating around on an air of superiority completely oblivious to things like ethics and feelings.   James Starbuck does a great job of playing a Lette who is initially hooked on the idea of being beautiful but undergoes something of a redemption as he comes to realise there may be other more important things in life. And his sexy presentation on connector plugs was hilarious!

The play skips along at a good pace. I really enjoyed the simulated surgery scenes. They managed to be brutal, humorous, artistic and elegant all at once. Just one example of some clever direction from James Watson.

So yes – ugly can be seen as a metaphor here, and that it’s not just something we see on the outside of a person. And while some may be gorgeous to look at, perhaps the old cliché is true that beauty really is only skin deep.

A fine piece of thoughtful, entertaining theatre in a great venue.   

This review also published in The Clothesline.

 

Housework: The Hard Work of Democracy

CC image courtesy of Nigel Paine

Housework
Dunstan Playhouse
State Theatre Company
Tue 11 Feb, 2025

It was a little unnerving to watch a show trashing the inner workings of democracy just as the world’s foremost democratic state across the Pacific is busy dismantling theirs. The timing is exquisite.

So too is the timing of the pacy dialogue between the six cast members of Housework. Set changes are marked by a loud military style drum beat and a ticking clock. The pressure is relentless and the need to get your message out quickly is paramount. When not firing messages at each other MPs and their staffers are racing down the corridors of power to the next confrontation.

A wonderfully cold, hard, and grand set design facilitates these multiple movements and adds a gravitas that belies the petty intentions of the building’s inhabitants. One may enter politics with grand delusions about making the world a better place but any optimism is quickly worn down by a realistic pragmatism. Cynicism trumps naivete as negotiations become a process of conniving, backstabbing, tit-for-tat I’ll scratch your back if you scratch mine. This is the sad, but at the same time hilariously funny, source of humour for plays like Housework.

We’ve seen it before in TV shows like Yes Minister and Utopia – political absurdity is a rich vein of humour that never seems to tire, but at some point, beyond the laughs, one wonders whether this kind of democracy is very productive. It’s convoluted, slow going, and spits out professional and personal casualties.

Shannon Rush’s smart direction and an innovative set manages to convey the impression that there are crowds of people in the house: MPs, staffers, ministers, protesters, cleaners – all buzzing about taking care of business.

Emily Taheny is simply wonderful as the Chief of Staff for a federal MP as she controls all movements and narratives around her boss with perfect grasp of tone and manner. She pays attention to every little detail as a senior staffer, and consummate performer. She’s a joy to watch. Franca Lafosse is excellent as the hapless junior staffer and her excitement at being at the coalface of politics is endearing and infectious. She quickly learns the game – perhaps too quickly – and pays the price for crossing boundaries.

Susie Youssef as the MP shows great comic timing with several funny one-liners, and it was a nice touch to have Sunitra Martinelli play the part of both cleaner and Prime Minister. After all, someone has to “clean up all this shit”!

Despite all the wheeling and dealing, the blame and accusations, the conniving and backstabbing, the characters seem ultimately to care for each other somewhere. There appears to be tacit recognition that they are trapped in a system that brings out the worst in people and underneath it all that they might actually have some respect for each other.

And what’s it all for ultimately? The love of democracy? The good of the country? To make people’s lives better? The final scene provides the answer with brilliant simplicity!

Great theatre –  superbly functional set, humour in spades, and a witty and insightful play perfectly executed by a first rate cast who didn’t miss a beat.

(This review also published on The Clothesline.)