Murray Whispers

Adelaide Ballet
ILA, Fri 15 Aug, 2025

Adelaide Ballet is a newly established dance company created to ‘fill a gap in the South Australian artistic landscape’. It has secured the Immersive Light and Art (ILA) venue as its home performance space on Hindmarsh Square. Murray Whispers is their first offering for season 2025, and it’s a stunner.

The interactive set cleverly recreates the feel of the Murray. Mist rises from the early morning river as we watch the natural world slowly waking up. Gradual stirrings in silhouette reveal creatures taking in the new day. Uncertain, careful, they gently expand into their day as the sun rises. They become the flowers, trees and animals of the riverbank. Sometimes they dance alone, sometimes joined together as one – a tree, an animal, a feeling. Guided by a gorgeous atmospheric musical score from Ashley Hribar it is at times breathtakingly beautiful. Yes mesmerising.

As the day grows longer projected scenes take us to another part of the Murray – cliffs, reeds, ancient tree trunks, rock pools – all carefully chosen to reflect the very essence of Australia’s greatest river. It was so easy to imagine yourself there sitting on the banks. The projected video images show trees and reeds swaying gently in the wind. Birds occasionally flit through the scene as dancers weave gracefully in and out of the landscape. And as the sun sets and dusk draws near we see birds returning to their homes in the trees, and our dancers slow down and once again become silhouettes in the fading light.

This reviewer lacks the credentials to assess the finer points of ballet technique but enjoyable as it was there were some minor imperfections: a few slight missteps when moving from one position to another, and an occasional lack of synchronicity with the soundtrack – but again very minor.

Tiered seating would improve the line of sight for those in the back rows – they would have missed much of the opening scene that took place at floor level. Nevertheless, a great debut offering from Adelaide Ballet that has whetted the appetite for what’s to come.

Choreography: Sarah Humeniuk and Rejane Garcia

This review also published on The Clothesline.

Adelaide's Algal Bloom

 

I have lived in Adelaide most of my life. Adelaide, like all Australian cities is on the coast - the sea is never far away. My first memory of the sea was travelling down Anzac Hwy as a kid in the family car. We used to have a competition to see who could see the sea first. ‘I can see the sea’.  ‘I can see the sea’ chants rang out from the back seat as the sea appeared as a thin sliver on the horizon.

 

The sea has always been synonymous with joy in my life: a place that meant fun, a celebration, coolness after a swim. My Adelaide beach has featured at every stage of my life: a place to make out with your teenage girlfriend,  to work on that suntan, do some exercise, lie in the shallows, collect sea creatures, watch the sunset, enjoy a leisurely stroll, and in later life simply a place to enjoy the natural beauty and a sense of peace.

 

Apart from early evenings on hot summer days Adelaide beaches are rarely crowded. They stretch from Port Noarlunga in the South to North Haven - some 30 to 40 kilometres. Fine, silky sand as good as you'll find anywhere in the world. Above all a place of respite and regeneration. You notice that people are rarely badly behaved at the beach. The sense of space and wind and the nature of the salt air seems to bring out the best in people. 

In January this year (2025) there were reports of people feeling sick after swimming in the waters of the southern Fleurieu. It was attributed to something called an algal bloom. This bloom slowly worked its way around to St Vincent's Gulf and by June had breached the entire Adelaide coastline. Dead marine life started appearing on our beaches: stingrays, sharks, seahorses, crabs, puffer fish... . the number of carcasses multiplied. Our beloved beaches had become places of death. Like an underwater bushfire the algal bloom wiped out most of the gulf's marine life. A place I had turned to all my life for peace and quiet became a constant horror show.

 

I can no longer walk along my beaches. I can walk near the sea as long as I can't see the dead creatures washed up on the sand. To walk along the sand now breaks my heart. Adelaide, the city between the hills and the sea, is now the city between the hills and a marine graveyard. People no longer go fishing or crabbing. My son can no longer go for his daily ‘sanity swim’. Thousands of Adelaideans now have to look elsewhere for that respite and regeneration.

 

Climate change has come home to roost on our doorstep with a vengeance. The warnings of environmental disaster have been clear and persistent for 50 years and we have done little to address the crisis.

 

For decades fruit growers and agriculturists have been using various chemicals and fertilisers to boost production in the fields and orchards alongside the Murray River.  In 2023 record floods along the Murray washed thousands of megalitres of river water into the sea at the Murray mouth. Occasionally in recent years our gulf waters have heated up sufficiently to prompt the onset of small algal blooms. A particularly long dry winter in 2024 didn't allow the gulf waters to cool and when that warmer water mixed with the tainted river water from the Murray the perfect conditions for the creation and spread of the algal bloom were present. So we now have this environmental disaster on our doorstep. The sea still sometimes looks gorgeous and blue and inviting from a distance but it is devoid of marine life. We have killed all our fish.

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.

Five Days in Berlin

Green van in the shadows for quick pick-up

Hearty tasty soup offered warmly

Comfort in a matching bed

Coffee ready to go

For a warm morning welcome kitchen

Newspapers and easy chat

Own key for easy escape            

To verdant forests everywhere

Left-handed guitar sought and found

For entry to another world

Of a stranger’s special occasion

Dance and theatre in celebration

Soccer with the young and a solemn visitation

Dinner and airport drop-off

Green van recedes back to the forest.

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.

Jacob Collier at Her Majesty's Theatre (7/6/25)

CC image courtesy of TED Conference

Jacob Collier is hailed by some as the greatest musician on the planet. Barefoot in bright baggy pants he would have looked quite at home in the Haight-Ashbury of the mid-60s. He’s a carefree spirit who’s a very physical performer. His dazzling piano technique is punctuated with bouncing and swinging legs; he sways and rocks and bends as he plays – his music is visual and aural.

A multi-instrumentalist, tonight Collier limits himself to piano, guitars and keyboard. He began at the piano playing a jazz derived version of Can’t Take My Eyes Off You that danced in and out of the recognised melody. As he did throughout the performance, he takes a song and pushes it to its outer limits – returning every now and then to a familiar lick or lyric that keeps you on track. He plays with timing so that things get sped up to quite frenetic levels, or slowed right down and sometimes with a sudden stop – often with a surprised glance towards the audience. He’ll take a vocal as high as a kite and then bring it back to a deep bass – he really has an extraordinary vocal range – and occasionally uses this as a point of humour to get people laughing.

Collier has fun with music; he mucks around with it. His boundless talent means he can take any piece of music anywhere he wants. He takes his audience on a fun ride with songs they know and love, and his adoring fans give him total license to do so. The ‘respect the melody’ school of thought may not be so forgiving.

A gorgeous original tune (Little Blue) showcases his exquisite dexterity on acoustic guitar, and at one point has Collier playing guitar with one hand and piano with the other – it sounded great.  On his five-string guitar version of The Beatles’ Norwegian Wood he takes what is already a sweet melody and makes it sweeter and more complex. Beautiful.

Back on the piano he extemporizes a version of Georgia On My Mind into unchartered territory – both with keys and voice – and it feels like this is where he is happiest: jazz like improvisations around a theme he loves exploring.

Then there’s the pub choir part of the show!! His audience know his schtick and as so many prefer to do these days they have come along to be part of the show and not just listen. At any given moment Collier will leap to his feet or put down the guitar and become the choir master!  Clearly many in the audience already know the drill, but even so it is remarkable how quickly he has almost everyone singing harmony together. It’s quite joyous and for the most part sounds pretty good as well.

He teased his way through an inventive version of Brown Eyed Girl (Van Morrison) and closed  with a rousing group vocal chorus on Queen’s classic Somebody to Love to adoring applause.

Jacob Collier is blessed with amazing musical skills and we’re fortunate that he shares his joy and talents in such performances. He is as much showman and entertainer as musician. And this was more than a concert – it was more like a community event.

However, the cross-legged on piano stool homily about the importance of music was a touch cringeworthy. And I’m reminded of Mozart’s critics who as much as they loved his music bemoaned the fact that he played too many notes! But these are minor quibbles in the overall wash-up – an astonishingly gifted musician with a desire to share his joy of the thing he loves.

This review also published on The Clothesline.