Song #64 Santorini

 

CC image courtesy of Maggie Meng

SANTORINI

Santorini

Santorini

Santorini – we had such high hopes for you

They once called you Atlantis a long long time ago

We sailed into your darkness and came up against you -

You’re a jagged unforgiving land and you have lost your soul

You play with us like laughing clowns in a twisted carnival

 

Set ‘em up to knock them down

Get ready – easy pickings

Get ready - there are tourists in town

 

Get ‘em drunk – they’re gone tomorrow

They’re richer than their blue jeans show

They’re captives on this island

They’ll pay the price only locals know

 

La Bamba, Club Atlantis

You can dance down at the Lido,

Boppin’ young flesh down at the Rio

Nirvana in Acapulco

 

Meet Neptune at the Roxy

Get stoned – Marrakesh disco

Cocktails a la Adonis

ACDC rules Atlantis OK

 

Let ‘em stew ‘cos we don’t savvy

Their foreign ways and their weird lingo

There’s no need to scrape and smile

For like the wind they come and go

 

There’ll be more on the next boat

We don’t want them here anyhow

So let’s send them all a-packin’

Let’s have a real good row

 

And rip em’ off.

 

You’ve come to Greece , well here’s Led Zeppelin

A stairway to heaven

Ouzo, Metaxa, and retsina

Dionysus lets the good times roll

 

Apollo rocks with Aphrodite

Woodstock is at the Mars Bar

Get your rocks off at Paradiso

Copacabana

 

Santorini – we had such high hopes for you

They once called you Atlantis a long long time ago

We sailed into your darkness and came up against you

Santorini

Santorini

You’ve lost it.

 

(Michael Coghlan 1992)

COMMENTARY: a possible site of the mythical Atlantis legend, so much of Santorini truly was a big disappointment. Nightclubs and bars with stereotypical names to appeal to mindless young travellers – Lido, Paradiso, the Roxy, etc. But move out of the larger (spectacular!)  towns and you can find the peace and beauty typical of most Greek islands. It was a complicated song – lots of changes of pace – and I’ve almost completely forgotten how it went. Probably won’t try and resurrect it. It belongs to another life.

 

Song #63 Deep Creek

 

DEEP CREEK

(listen and watch HERE, or just listen HERE)

  When the wind comes up you'd better brace yourself
  It can catch you unprepared and sweep you down to the valley below
  Where your fears lie unprotected and your demons stalk too close
  You're gonna need a guide to help you that's never walked on a city street

  And as you look back up you no longer stand above
  All those fears you've been hiding lie awaiting round the next bend
  Of the creek that's deep and winding on its journey to the sea
  The water has gone before you and cut you out a path to see

  You're standing there with nothing but yourself and the water to show you
  The way you must go with those fears inside your head
  About those other people and what they might think of you
  You step into the icy water and it chills you to the soul

  You're losing all your history as you begin to start to know
  That you can't sink any lower so it's onward you must go

  Your eyes caress the mountains as you begin your slow sojourn
  It all looks so familar but you have lost control
  Of everything that's happened in that life on those city streets
  You get a taste of future wisdom as you go down Deep Creek

  You're gonna need a guide to help you that's never walked on those city streets
  You get a taste of future wisdom as you flow down Deep Creek
  Go down
  Flow down
  Go down

  (1992)

COMMENTARY: Deep Creek is a national park reserve south of Adelaide that is quite rugged, remote, and spectacular. This song is about facing demons and doubts and how the unfamiliar world of the bush (for a city boy) can either assist or trigger that process. It deserves a good recording ....)

Song #62 Once Around the Sun

 

ONCE AROUND THE SUN

 

Today I laid a demon to rest

And I fell in love with that lady again

It must be at least ten times this short year

That I’ve shed a fear

 

On our journey around the sun

With the wax on our wings still intact

We’ve been flying so high we’re getting further away

From the valley below

 

And as we lay in our bed at night

Listening to the Irish muse in flight

He takes us to places we’ve never seen

But we’re getting there

 

CHORUS

We’ve been through all the seasons

We’ve been through the heat and the cold

We’ve seen the age clock tick over

We’ve been once around

        once around

        once around the sun

 

And very night I just want to fall

Into her arms without a word

Travel again to that place of peace

Where no demons lay

 

But we keep them alive with our hours of talk

Touching on fears with a torrent of words

Keeping the passion alive and apart

Until we finally give in

 

And play in our bed at night

Listening to the Irish muse in flight

He takes us to places we’ve never seen

But we’re getting there

 

CHORUS

We’ve been through all the seasons

We’ve been through the heat and the cold

We’ve seen the age clock tick over

We’ve been once around

        once around

        once around the sun

 

© Michael Coghlan 1991

Commentary: think it's self-evident really :) The Irish muse referred to is Van Morrison.

 

 

 

 

The Ajoona Guest House - Review

 

Bakehouse Theatre, Wed  1 Dec

Courtesy of some well-deserved grants and funded residencies Stephen House set himself the exciting and daunting task of writing a performance monologue for each of three different cities. He has completed and performed the works on life in Dublin and Paris, and now unveils the final part of the trilogy – the Ajoona Guest House. Set in a dingier part of Delhi, the tale has House sharing memories of a long association with the guesthouse – “a dump with oodles of charm” – and India.

The Ajoona Guest House is something of a refuge for those Westerners who were smitten and subsequently trapped in a strange world of mysticism, drugs, and ultimately desperation. House introduces us to some of the desperados who will never check out, and shares the unlikely joy he finds in the company of a neighbourhood child beggar.

Often bleak, even harrowing, the tale is a sad one but it’s the kind of sadness that accompanies an understanding of what life is truly like. Life may be full of broken souls but even they have created moments of great joy and beauty. The trick is to realise that the wheel turns, that joy and pleasure are just as ephemeral as pain and suffering, that nothing is forever, and you can only hope that if you ever reach this point of understanding you are still sufficiently whole to appreciate the past and present with gratitude, and have enough strength left to pull yourself away from the darkness.

It has been said before but Stephen House is a wonderful story teller. The Ajoona Guest House is perfectly paced. His economy with words, obviously well-honed by the poet side of his creative self, is very easy to listen to, and gradually draws you into an intriguing tale that soon has you experiencing something else below the narrative; that sensation of being there, in the story, and wondering what you would do? How would you feel?

Beautifully presented on an almost bare stage with few props, The Ajoona Guesthouse is both simple and profound, entertaining and instructive. Bravo Stephen House.

(This review also published on The Clothesline.)

 

Weligama - one of the greatest experiences of my life

I recently told a friend in Weligama, Sri Lanka, that my first visit there in 1981 was one of the greatest experiences of my life. He wrote back and asked me to explain why it was such a wonderful experience. These lyrics of a song I wrote at the time went some way to answering this question. Below are some further thoughts - not in any particular order.

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

I was absolutely amazed that almost complete strangers would take me in as their friend and share their lives with me.

It was my first experience of living in a place where people lived ‘hand to mouth’. Titus, Walter and others went fishing every morning, got money for the fish at the fish market, and took it home to their wives who went shopping, and made food for the family for the next 24 hours. And then the cycle began again the next day. It taught me a great deal about life, and how simple it can be. And I saw that poor people can live a happy life if they enough food and a place for sleep and shelter.

I became a much more confident swimmer often swimming out to Louise’s island:

I realised that my skills as a musician were really valued. I did so much singing in Weligama!

People would often dance when I played guitar and sang. I felt like a troubadour!

It was my first experience living in a non-Christian culture and I learnt a lot about Buddhism. Titus and I would sometimes talk about the difference between Christianity and Buddhism.

Playing karam on the beach at night with Titus while drinking arak. Magic!

The huge surprise when we came back to Weligama one day and Titus had built us a cadjan house!

Amazing parties out on Louse’s island:

Playing with the children each day in the sea: 

I learnt that I was extraordinarily privileged. As Titus told me, “You can come here anytime you want, but I will never see your country.” Though fishing families in Weligama had enough food and a place to sleep and shelter they had no real freedom to move out of that world. Having spare money – money left over after you have paid for your house and food – is a huge luxury.

Louise and I had a magical visit to ‘the Prince’s island’  - Taprobane. There really was a prince living there and he happily invited us in and treated us to tea and cake! 

Taprobane: the Prince's Island

I learned that people in places like Weligama people do not like to be alone. People would often watch me read, or write in my journal!

I learned that when you live right by the sea the world is never silent. Every night I would fall asleep to the sounds of the waves breaking on the shore

I learned that poor people can be incredibly generous.

In memory of our dear friend Titus. 

Titus was far from perfect but he taught me much about life, I only wish he could have lived long enough for me to tell him. And all of this happened because one day he just stopped a stranger on the streets of Weligama and started talking with them. Rest in peace dear friend. 

Titus and Lilian in 'our' new house

 

 

 

Song #61 Lady Spider

 

LADY SPIDER

(listen HERE. A clearer version coming soon.)

Finally the memory of my first love has gone

I have lived so long in the past – that road is long

Then I met my Lady Elizabeth

         I met my Lady Spider

 

Yes I had lived so long in the past not knowing if I could

Ever feel so in love again – I contemplate your smile

Your smile Lady Elizabeth

Your smile my Lady Spider

 

I’d given up all thoughts of joy of a woman’s charms

I found a gem who held me close – in her loving arms

And I’ll hold you Lady Elizabeth

       I’ll hold you my Lady Spider

 

I feel the wind that blows between our searching souls

It will carry us near and far until we’re old

When I’ll hold you Lady Elizabeth

           I’ll hold you my Lady Spider

 

Whatever I do, whatever I say

You owe me nothing - but I want for you to stay

When you come towards me how can I hold back

And pretend I don’t care?

 

When I love you Lady Elizabeth

           I love you my Lady Spider

 

© Michael Coghlan 1991

 

COMMENTARY: I knew I’d written this song years ago but I couldn’t find the words or the music until recently. Happily I found a muffled but heartfelt old recording and I have relearnt this beautiful song. I love it.

Song #60 Shadows and Sunshine

 

SHADOWS AND SUNSHINE

Life is hell, life is fine

And you’re free and you’re mine

And I fear nothing ‘cept a day

That you may say you’re leaving

 

CHORUS (1)

Shadows and sunshine leading me somewhere

Shadows and sunshine turning me on

 

To a life that is full

Of a place where I know nothing

But today will not end

If I get my way

 

CHORUS (2)

Shadows and sunshine teaching me something

Shadows and sunshine telling me hold on, let go

 

Of a life where you feel

A great joy – like a boy

For a change you’ve arrived

In a place where you’ve got something to lose

 

And it scares the hell out of me

That I would have to go on

Knowing if she were to go

It would be harder than ever before

 

To go on like before

All alone on the shore

Through a life that is fine

Where you’d have nothing to lose

 

CHORUS (1)

Shadows and sunshine leading me somewhere

Shadows and sunshine turning me on

 

© Michael Coghlan 1991

 

Commentary:

Coming to terms with being happy! And being in a relationship I wanted to last and fearing that it wouldn’t. And at the same time preparing myself for the worst should it be necessary! I remember being happy with this song but have no idea how it went.

 

Listening; Still Learning

 

I read recently that The Dalai Lama says the best thing one can do to improve the world, even if you can’t do anything else, is to listen. In the last year or so I have also being trying to live more in line with the dictum ‘you have two ears and one mouth so listen twice as much as you talk’ but it’s hard. Especially as you get older.

What I never understood is that if you are halfway intelligent and live 50 years or more you are likely to have learned quite a bit. You have taken in and processed vast amounts of information, seen countless movies, read hundreds of books and articles, participated in probably thousands of conversations, and simply observed people for half a century or more. You see patterns repeated; you’ve seen what works in situations, and what doesn’t. You have been mulling things over for at least 50 years, and ipso facto, you probably know more about life and human behaviours that someone who is 30 years old because you simply have much more data to base your conclusions on – more conversations, more perspectives, more concerts, more songs, more travelling, more heartaches. So you feel that you know more than people much younger than yourself. And you want to share what you know with them. But in one of life’s strange twists of irony, no one really wants to know, especially those much younger than yourself, for they are busy discovering their own path and realisations about the world. And so they must.

But what does the halfway intelligent older person then do with all this insight? Just listen???? Just learn some more??? Apparently so according to The Dalai Lama.

Something else happens the longer you live: your standards creep imperceptibly higher. If you’ve heard 10 songs, watched 10 plays and 10 movies the chances of you coming across another song, play or movie that is better than these 10 is very high. If you have heard 1000 songs, seen a 1000 plays and movies, those chances are much smaller. Through long term exposure to many fields of human endeavour you develop a keen awareness of what constitutes excellence – quality of life, of relationships, of artefacts of entertainment, of a sunset, of a view, and in a very real sense you become spoiled. You have recognised magnificence in life – of architecture, of art, of writing - and learned that it is rare. So I can go along and listen to a band and I will enjoy it, but I can’t help but subconsciously compare it with the music I have heard in years gone by and it is way less likely, though not impossible, to be as enjoyable as music heard at concerts in the past because my standards have crept up. I am now harder to please. It is harder to be moved by music, by the spoken word, by a spectacular view – because you have already experienced true magnificence in these aspects of life, and know how unlikely it is that you will experience better.

 I guess one of the keys to a successful older life is, despite all the wonderful things you may have enjoyed in the past, to treat every day and every new experience as if it could be as good as anything you’ve ever enjoyed. To go into each new moment unfettered by expectations based on past experiences. And listen 😊

Song #59 There Was A Night

(Listen HERE)

So who are you? I long to be with you
You breezed in from the past
Thirteen years ago have gone so fast
There was a night when I came home

Thirteen years ago - we made our choices
We've felt and caused some pain. Now here we are again
Will there be one night at home?

We've had children and needs
Sorrows and want
And still we both smile through it all
I would like one night at home

In the shadows of the evening you can't decide
Come play with me in the morning sun and we will ride

On for thirteen years - ah but who are you?
You breezed in from the past
Left me with a memory
Of a night when I came home

(Copyright M Coghlan, 1990)

Commentary

Elizabeth and I had met 13 years before and almost got together. Happily we found our way back to each other. Our song.

Song #58 Someone Dressed in Red

 

SOMEONE DRESSED IN RED

 

You have lived a long time

And you like the way you are

You’ve enjoyed your precious life

Though you never were a star

 

You had reached the point of knowing

That it could never be

You were in it for the long run

Lonely and free

 

So you go to another party

That will be like all the others

So many people out of reach

But there’s someone dressed in red

 

Your heart begins to wander

Like a traveller in a cold dawn

And you dare

To tempt the light of day

 

So you decide to follow

Another dangling thread

She seems so pleased to see you

But you do not fill your head

 

With dreams of how it could be

If you had not given up

And she says that she is thinking

Of never going away

 

And your eyes turn to water

Like a stream in wet winter

And you fall

Into the joy of it all

 

 

© M Coghlan 1991

 

COMMENTARY

This is exactly how I felt before I met Elizabeth. I had given up looking for love. And then hey presto Elizabeth turned up at this party in a church hall in Maylands wearing a red dress and the rest is history 😊

 

Destinations - Belle Chen

 

Her Majesty’s Theatre, Thu 21 Oct, 2021.

We have entered a world where one person, with the aid of musical technology, can sound like an ensemble. A solo performer, playing the role of technician as much as musician, can manipulate loops and sampled sounds of multiple different instruments with buttons, sliders and dials to create layers of sound of almost infinite variety.

In this work from Belle Chen, what looks like a grand piano – and occasionally sounds like one – but also functions as a synthesiser, organ, bell ringer, Theremin, and bass guitar. Add a layer of various sounds from nature (birds, water) and you have a luscious soundscape with many guises – soft and delicate, loud and dramatic, ambient and meditative – that feels very much like an exploration into the inner workings of the artist’s consciousness as they lead us through an unchartered path.

Chen’s touch on the piano is gorgeous. Her classical background was often in evidence but when her left hand keeps playing a gentle rhythm on the keys while the right hand adjusts the volume or unleashes the next effect that’s another thing altogether. At times she leans over the keys to hammer or pluck the strings under the lid, or uses the African kalimba to generate melodies and percussive patterns.

Projections that are displayed from floor to ceiling canvases either side of the artist and offer clues to Chen’s Destinations. Many of the images are abstract and allow the audience to build their own connections between image and sound, but other images of the natural world are intriguing and sometimes sadly poignant. I’d suggest that the visual impact of the projections may have been more impressive towards the back of the theatre.

Destinations is a performance of many textures; on offer was a multi-modal experience of contemplation and reflection; a celebration of the creative powers of an accomplished artist. Or one could just as easily close your eyes and simply listen to a bold composition that dares to be exploratory and expose the vulnerability of the artist and the creative process.

(This review also published in The Clothesline.)

The Laramie Project - Review

The Laramie Project

Holden Street Theatres, Fri 22 Oct

Long term Adelaide residents will immediately recognise the eerie similarity between the Laramie Project and our own equivalent moment of shame when Adelaide University Law Lecturer George Duncan was drowned in the Torrens in 1972. In 1998 a young gay man was brutally bashed and left to die outside the town of Laramie, Wyoming. “The skies are so blue here.” “It’s such a great community.”  “People are happy to live here.” “Here we let people live and let live.” “We don’t raise our children like that around here.” The people of Laramie struggled to accept that one of their own could be responsible for this appalling crime.

The Laramie Project is based on material gathered by a New York based Theatre group from 200 interviews with the people of Laramie. It’s an ingenious way to gather the raw material for a play and it works brilliantly. Each member of the wonderful cast takes on multiple roles of the townspeople: friends, barman, parents, staff and students from the local university, church figures, police, and doctors in a fast-moving parade of opinions and facts that essentially casts the audience in the role of jurors.

The first act does an excellent job of helping us get to know the victim, Matthew Shepard, and gives the audience an opportunity to establish their own personal connection with him. We learn that Matthew was a good guy and was universally liked throughout the town. The second act deals with the crime itself and the town’s subsequent shock and disbelief. A media circus invades the town and contributes to a shift in attitude in some of the locals. Sympathy gives way to cynicism and confusion: so we’re the centre of mass media attention because Matthew was gay? Was his life more important than that of a local cop who died around the same time?

Laramie clerics start using Matthew’s story to instruct their parishes. The Catholic priest wonders if the town should be grateful to Matthew for helping the town realise that hate and intolerance exist in Laramie and need to be addressed. The Baptist Pastor, Fred Phelps, took to campaigning against homosexuality. Invoking the authority of the Bible he insinuates that Matthew’s gay lifestyle had brought this upon himself. The final act deals with the court hearings, the ever-increasing debate around hate crimes and the rise of the Angel Action protest movement to counter the rantings of the likes of Fred Phelps. The courtroom apology of one of the perpetrators to Matthew’s parents was really moving, and the electronic candlelight vigil was a nice touch.

This is really fine theatre. The first-hand accounts of the townspeople lend authenticity and the cast really do a great job at managing multiple roles and costume changes and for once the American accents ALL sounded authentic – to my Australian ear anyway! I found the tendency to perhaps eke out more emotion from the situation than was warranted in the way that American dramas are wont to do a little bothersome but that’s the way the play is written, and not the fault of the cast.

George Duncan’s death here in 1972 led to South Australia becoming the first state in Australia to decriminalise homosexuality. Despite the worldwide media attention, sadly not one piece of legislation has ever been passed in Wyoming to address the kind of prejudicial hatred that resulted in the death of Matthew Shepard.

(This review also published on The Clothesline.)

OzAsia Festival - White Pearl

Sydney Theatre Company and Riverside’s National Theatre of Parramatta, Wed 20 Oct, 2021.

The set reveals a modern business office in Singapore. Lots of clean shiny straight lines and floor to ceiling windows. An advertisement for Clearday cosmetics loops continuously above the stage – just like the 24/7 screen assault one experiences wandering around modern Asian cities.

The five Clearday employees all hail from different parts of Asia and are over the moon at the success of their newest product. When a video that casts the company in a somewhat different light goes viral on social media the mood changes and they move into damage control. An electronic hit counter tracking the viral video ticks away ominously and relentlessly as cracks emerge in the social fabric of this young company.

Many of these cracks revolve around racism. Is it okay to trade in questionable cultural stereotypes for races that have a minimal presence in Asian countries? Can personal relationships overcome the negative intra-Asian cultural assumptions made about people from Japan, Taiwan or Korea? The dynamics of office politics and the power balance between genders are also put under the spotlight. A strong and even cast deliver an often sassy dialogue with a class and style that forces quieter personalities to conduct their conversations in other surprising locations outside the office.

Plenty of humour ensures the mood never stays too heavy for long – led by the local Singaporean employee (played by Cheryl Ho) who seems lost in an American rap style time warp. Kristy Best as Priya the Indian office boss is suitably commanding, while Nicole Milinkovic as a Thai American has a lot of fun (mostly) exploiting the Thai girl stereotype.

Provocative and confronting, White Pearl is an entertaining analysis of modern business ethics, cultural assumptions, and the role of social media in contemporary Asia and raises many important questions. But we may have to wait for a sequel to find the answers!

(This review also published in The Clothesline at https://theclothesline.com.au/white-pearl-ozasia-festival-2021-review/)

Song #57 Out on the Ocean

 

 

OUT ON THE OCEAN

 

There’s a wind out on the ocean

There’s a breeze that comes from far away

And ‘cos we live here in Australia

We know the air is fit to breathe

 

CHORUS

And what are you gonna do?

To make sure it stays that way?

What are you gonna do?

 

There’s a land across the ocean

Where people suffer and stand in line

Wait their turn just to come here

For they’ve heard this land is golden

 

CHORUS

 

But you gotta have love in your heart

There’s gotta be someone to hold

But you gotta have love in your heart

There’s gotta be someone to hold

 

What if you knew that out on the ocean

There’s someone coming here for you

She’s got brown skin and she’s from your dreams

She loves your child and wants to hold you

 

What are you gonna do?

To make sure that she will stay?

What are you gonna do?

 

(M Coghlan 1990)

 

Commentary

I don’t know what promoted this song. But with the current sad reality of offshore detention centres and temporary protection visas it seems eerily prescient. I don’t remember how it went either. Perhaps it’s waiting for a new tune …..

Song #56 Far Away Gone

 

FAR AWAY GONE

(Listen HERE)

Pack up your things and walk out that door

Just don’t expect me to follow no more

No don’t expect me

To be here in the morning

 

I think I feel that’s the sun’s gonna shine

I didn’t notice that I’d lost my mind

So don’t expect me

To be here tomorrow

 

‘Cos I’ll be gone – far away gone

         I’ll be gone – far away gone

 

I think I feel like going alone

Without that constant moan and groan

So don’t expect me to be here in the morning

 

I’m tired of listening to you

I’m tired of following you

 

It seems to be time when I tell the truth

Being the nice guy let you stay aloof

So don’t expect me

To be here if you return

 

‘Cos I’ll be gone – far away gone

         I’ll be gone – far away gone

 

© Michael Coghlan 1990

Commentary

Circling back to the break-up with Joti's mother several years later. Getting rid of more anger. Assisted by some wonderful clarinet from Sean Mangan.

Song #55 Arizona

 

CC Image courtesy of azmichelle

ARIZONA

 

You chose a road, a road you knew was long

And you found it hard, as hard as hell

Yes, you knew somewhere that you should not go

That you had no call to leave alone

It’s a long way to the USA

 

I’m sittin’ in Tuscon, Arizona

Remember how they said ‘Get Back’?

That’s exactly what I want to do now

Get out on the track that takes me home

 

I discovered I’d been living in a dreamtime

And I had to see the songs I’ve sung

I had to see those towns as they really are

And I came across Tonopah – and it’s a hole!

But they’ve blue skies in Arizona

And they’ve got a desert that goes on forever

        to Mexico         

 

Ain’t you been north lately?

Walked in your own backyard lately?

Checked out your own desert lately?

No.

 

Some will tell you don’t waste your money boy

They’ll tell you it’s just too far

Some will tell you you gotta travel boy

They’ll tell you you gotta travel far

You know it’s hard to please everyone

 

Some will tell you that it’s all right here

They may be right but still I go

I discovered

They’ve got a desert that goes on forever

                                                              to Mexico    

 

They’ll tell you don’t waste your talents boy

They’ll tell you don’t abuse your charms

You chose a road, a road you knew was long

And you found it hard, as hard as hell

But it’s a long long way to the grave

 

(© M Coghlan 1990)

 

Commentary

I remember waiting to check in for the flight out to the US and for the first time in my life being afraid of what might happen while I was off travelling far away. Why? Because I now had a child and I felt guilty leaving him. I felt like I was shirking my responsibilities, and that I shouldn't put myself in risky situations beyond my control. And as the lyrics tell, I spent much of the time wishing I was home. But I'm glad I went!

4000 Miles - Amy Herzog

4000 Miles
University of Adelaide Theatre Guild, Little Theatre, Sat 9 Oct 

Amy Herzog’s Pulitzer Prize winning 4000 Miles covers a lot of territory. It skips across multiple social and political issues affecting the contemporary American landscape. Ageism, dementia, the generation gap, incest, blended families, communism, gender balance in relationships, the importance of real communication, the role of therapy, alienation and loneliness to name a few. And yet not for one minute does it get bogged down in polemics or virtuous lecturing. Indeed, these are all side issues neatly woven into the basic tale of a young man trying to reconnect with family via his grandmother after an exhilarating and heartbreaking bicycle journey across America.

His grandmother, Vera, is in her 80s and lives alone. Though she is struggling with the old age curse of forgetfulness, she is still sharp enough to surprise her grandson with insights about politics and her past. Vera is wonderfully played by Julie Quick. You are immediately drawn into her increasingly lonely world and share her childlike excitement when her grandson Leo, played by Jackson Barnard, decides to stay awhile with her in her New York apartment. Barnard does a good job of playing the confused young man who slowly learns to relate to his grandma who chatters way incessantly while the young Leo struggles to get a word in. It’s endearing to watch their relationship grow and a shared rooftop joint ironically cements the connection!

Two strong, self-assured performances by two of Leo’s love interests complete the cast line-up. Naomi Gomez is gorgeous and beguiling as Amanda, the ditzy young thing whose language skills don’t appear to extend much further than the ubiquitous ‘oh my god’. Leo brings Amanda home to grandma’s apartment and this delightful comedic scene adds an unexpected element to the ongoing theme of communism.

Director Erik Strauts’ direction is unintrusive and suitably uncomplicated. Excellent use is made of the Little Theatre’s split levels and multiple entry and exit points. Slightly longer than usual interludes between scenes gave the audience opportunity to enjoy Emma Knight’s original piano pieces written specifically for this production, and reflect on what they had just seen.

Really entertaining theatre. Easy to enjoy, plenty to think about if you want to go deeper and in the delightful space that is the Little Theatre, everyone is close to the action.

(This review also published on The Clothesline.)

Song #54 The Sea is Rising

THE SEA IS RISING

(listen HERE)

It's the sea that makes me feel
Feel like this - so young and free
Yes this is me; down by the sea

From across the sea we all came
To live in this land, so far away
From where culture calls home

I'm a man so I could be wrong
I've got white skin so I'm probably wrong
I was raised a Catholic so I'm definitely wrong
But I'm not guilty here down by the sea

Now look at the sea, it's slowly rising
As the ice caps melt; oh how young I felt
Down by the sea

Men and women all so we could be wrong
We've all got white skin so we're probably wrong
All raised by parents so we're definitely wrong
No need to feel guilty; what's all the fuss
This is us - down by the sea

And now I hear there's a hole in the sky
If I want dark skin I might be young when I die
Feelin' older as I stroll on the sand
The sea is rising

What I'm trying to say is there's a lot of things wrong
There's been a lot of blamin' about who done it wrong
No one of us did it; we're all part of a throng
And the sea is rising
And the sea is rising
And the sea is rising

(Copyright M Coghlan 1990)

Commentary

Continuing an extraordinary rush of new songs over a couple of years, here is another contribution to the gathering clamour around climate change. 31 years ago - the song could be still as an anthem for the cause. With a few sideways digs at those who wish to believe that white men and Catholics were responsible for all the ills of the world :) (Things were only going to get much much worse on this front.) 

Song #53 A Hug for the Borderguard

 

A HUG FOR THE BORDERGUARD (listen)

Last night they opened up THE WALL
A source of wonder to us all
Now those who live on the other side
Can walk in peace that great divide
And go on home again

The world is changing

Cold War - what was it anyway?
I was born too late to have a say
That wall - I touched and I gazed at it
And wondered at the why of it
Last night they tore the damn thing down
No man's land became a place for clowns

A hug for the borderguard

As I watch the tears and joy of all those who
Can't quite believe it's OK to go through
Makes me think that I would like to be there too
As they pull the whole thing down
No man's land becomes a place for clowns
Berlin becomes a reunited town

Is the Cold War over?
 
If it happened there it can happen anywhere
A source of hope for the unfree everywhere

Last night they opened up the wall
A source of wonder to us all
No man's land became a place for clowns
Berlin became a reunited town

Is the madness over?
A hug for the borderguard
The world is changing

(Copyright  Michael Coghlan 1989)

Commentary

Like millions of others I watched the TV in awe as vision showed cars and pedestrians moving freely out of East Berlin into the west. I remember seeing a car stop. A woman got out and gave the soldier at the border post a huge long hug. It was one of the more powerful images I'd ever seen. I've never forgotten it. This is my celebration of the Berlin Wall coming down.