An Unwasted Evening – The Genius of Tom Lehrer

 [CABARET/Comedy ~ WORLD PREMIERE ~ South Australia]

The Jade, Sun 19 Feb, 2023.

American Tom Lehrer was something of a child prodigy. He studied classical music from the age of 7, and was admitted to Harvard at the age of 15. He did eventually become a Maths professor and taught at Harvard and MIT but somewhere along the way he got distracted by musical theatre and started writing his own tunes.

Satire was his chosen genre and for 20 years from the mid-fifties onwards Lehrer’s songs were part of American popular culture. Nothing was off limits for Tom Lehrer – he poked fun at everything: war; religion, social mores, politics – and made people laugh in the process.

Adelaide’s own Dr H does a great job of bringing Tom Lehrer’s songs to life for Adelaide audiences. He is an accomplished pianist, and got the balance between telling the stories and playing the songs just right. Even though many of Lehrer’s songs are as much spoken as they are sung (they are chock full of clever lyrics) they do require a vocal dexterity that Dr H is quite at home with. The Elements, a song about the periodic table as its subject is a case in point!

Tom Lehrer wasn’t overly concerned with political correctness and his songs were often banned. His ilk would have even more trouble getting airtime these days. But it was great to hear gems like The Vatican Rag and National Brotherhood Week again. A song from 1954, I Got It From Agnes, gets a new lease of life if you replace the term VD with COVID, and could be a candidate for the anthem of the times!

A really enjoyable show. Though there is a plethora of tribute acts on the Fringe program again this year, if the story is worth telling and the songs are worth hearing, then it’s worth putting on shows like this for those who missed artists like Tom Lehrer the first time round. And for the many who know and love Lehrer’s work and want to hear it again – It was a full house. Lots of interaction and singing along available for those who wish to express themselves in the ‘safe space’ of The Jade!

We went all home happy after a rousing singalong ending of We Will All Go Together When We Go. (Yep – an end of the world ditty!)

(This review also published on The Clothesline.)

Mustard - a play review

 Mustard by Eve O’Connor: Theatre On The Edge ~ Adelaide Fringe 2023 Review                                           [Theatre and Physical Theatre/New Writing ~ AUSTRALIAN PREMIERE ~ IRE]

The Arch at Holden Street Theatres, Fri 17 Feb, 2023.

Mustard charts the trajectory of a relationship from the dizzying heights of bliss to the darkest depths of despair, and describes one person’s – perhaps just slightly unhinged – reaction to the attendant emotional roller coaster. Nothing much new there, but what sets Mustard apart is the incisive nature of the writing that delves into the human psyche with harrowing and exhilarating detail, and the mesmerising routine of an actor experiencing metaphorical baptism and rebirth.

The writing here is so tight; so delicately crafted. Descriptions of what it’s like to lie alongside the beautiful body of someone you love are deliciously detailed and intimate. And, similarly, the physical pain of ultimate rejection is visceral – you feel it and remember equivalent moments in your own life.

It’s a play of extremes – joy and despair, wisdom and madness, love and hate – that suggests that the distance between these polar opposites can be frighteningly close.

There are moments in Mustard where the integration of physical theatre with an unerring delivery of a script woven with passion and intensity, the integration of body and mind, is perfect.

Written and played by Eva O’Connor, she delivers a masterful performance. Extraordinary theatre that will take you to the edge.

4.5 stars

This review also published on The Clothesline.

Simply Brill - Adelaide Cabaret Festival Review

Photo credit: Claudio Raschella 

 Amelia Ryan, Michaela Burger and Michael Griffiths

[CABARET ~ WORLD PREMIERE & ADELAIDE EXCLUSIVE ~ AUS]

Banquet Room, Adelaide Festival Centre, Sat 11 Jun.

Cabaret can be many things, but what cabaret does really well is tell stories. And if the stories are important and largely unknown, then all the better. Such is the story of New York’s Brill Building. Between 1958 and 1964 it churned out an astonishing number of smash hits that revolutionised popular music at the time. There were several reasons for this, but Simply Brill stresses one reason in particular: the fact that an extraordinary number of these hits were written by women. This show could be suitably sub-titled ‘Three Broads From Brooklyn’. Those broads being Carole King (the very same Carole King who became a megastar as a singer songwriter in the ‘70s), Cynthia Weil (The Locomotion, Blame It On The Bossa Nova etc.) and Ellie Greenwich (Be My Baby, Leader Of The Pack etc).

In a wonderfully slick show Michael Griffiths, Amelia Ryan, and Michaela Burger don’t miss a beat in this storytelling and nostalgic musical bonanza. Backed up with slides and a great local band, the narration is fast paced, funny, and with just enough information to set up an appreciation of the next song. Ryan and Burger take turns as the Brooklyn broads but share much of the vocal work. Griffith spends most of the show on piano adding to the storyline and occasional doo wops, and bom boms as required, but shows his front man skills in solo renditions of songs like We Gotta Get Out of This Place. Ryan and Burger groove and jive throughout in seductive harmony with the music to stunning visual effect.

All three shared the storytelling and singing duties in an intricate, seamless show of organic joy. They were clearly enjoying what they were doing, loving the songs they were singing, and revelling in each other’s company. It was indeed brill.

Kudos to the bass player who wore a smile throughout and contributed to the good vibes! And there were good vibes a plenty. You got a very real sense of the excitement of the times and thrill that those young songwriters must have felt when they landed another hit.

And just in case you had any lingering doubts about the value of the song writing teams that worked in the Brill Building, a stirring final medley of You’ve Lost That Loving Feeling, River Deep Mountain High, and Aretha Franklin’s Natural Woman sealed the deal.

Just wonderful!

(This review also posted on The Clothesline.)

The Picture of Dorian Gray - Review

 

Her Majesty’s Theatre, Mon 14 Mar.

The Picture Of Dorian Gray was my introduction to the world of literature and social commentary of Oscar Wilde. Originally published in 1890, it made an indelible impression on my young soul and I was excited to see how this adaptation by Kip Williams would work for the stage. The essential idea of Dorian Gray is that he is forever young and that he only ages in a portrait of him created by his artist friend Basil. This sense of eternal youth gives Dorian the freedom to follow his every hedonistic, immoral fancy. But in a message for both old and young there are grave consequences.

This production by the Sydney Theatre Company is simply superb. The ease with which Eryn Jean Norvill handles the multiple roles of Dorian, Basil, Lord Henry, various household staff, and several other characters is incredibly impressive. She steps in and out of these roles throughout with frequent costume and scene changes in a rapid and constantly moving parade.

On the staging side this production is a technical tour de force. I doubt whether many in the audience would have seen anything quite like this. I certainly haven’t. The use of multimedia and live video has been creeping into theatre for some years but when bigger budgets allow bigger crews on big stages to work in tandem with people with big ideas this is what can be achieved.

The opening scenes of Basil talking to Lord Henry take place at the very back of the stage and are filmed live. For most of the audience the scene is best viewed on a large screen hanging from the front of the stage, though those towards the front could view the live scene if they chose. This is often the case throughout – many scenes are both recorded live and beamed on to large screens.

On other occasions Norvill (as Dorian) is talking live to Lord Henry but Lord Henry’s contribution to the conversation has been pre-recorded and Norvill is conversing with a recording of his part of the dialogue. This device is often employed and should, you would think, seem strange and stilted. But it is seamless, barely noticeable. On multiple occasions Norvill is relating to other characters speaking pre-recorded versions of conversations that she has also recorded so she is effectively talking to herself. Not to mention the fact that so much of her performance here is talking to camera, not to another person or character, and yet must appear as if she is in deep connection with another character. Like combining the skills of live theatre with acting for screen I guess and it is simply brilliant.

In a chilling conclusion that sadly has acute relevance for the narcissistic trend permeating contemporary Western culture, Dorian Gray ultimately pays a heavy price. This play is full of the wit, wisdom and eloquence characteristic of all Oscar Wilde’s work. You will wait a long time to see an individual performance as good as Norvill offers here, and the technical wizardry achieved by a team of black-clad ghostly wraiths floating in and out of view is initially a little distracting but becomes strangely and appropriately symbolic of a hidden world that only Dorian knew.

This is a show that you could definitely see a second or even a third time. Sometimes five stars are just not enough!

5+ stars 

(This review also published on The Clothesline.)

Tom Waits for No One - Review

 

The Garage International @ Adelaide Town Hall, Sat 5 Mar.

Tom Waits’ trademarks were a rasping vocal style from somewhere deep down in the bowels of the soul, semi-spoken rambling narratives put to music detailing the life of the down and out, a close to the edge desperation that you felt could break at any moment, and an uncanny ability to cram these earthy guttural outpourings into an exquisite melody. On top of that every sinew in his body would ooze emotion in an artistry that was mesmerising. So any attempt to cover Tom Waits songs is a huge gamble!

Wisely Stewart D’Arrietta doesn’t try to be Tom Waits although he does a little character acting in the patter and jokes between songs. D’Arrietta on piano, supported by double bass and drums, did a fine job of presenting material from the Waits catalogue and got better and better as he went. Singing in any way that approximates Waits’ growling vocal style can’t be good for you and it was as if he needed to warm up before he felt totally comfortable.  He worked his way through many classics – the autobiographical Kentucky Avenue, the poignant Christmas Card From A Hooker In Minneapolis, the beautifully tender Martha, the rocky Goin’ Out West, and what he flagged as one of the best songs ever written, An Invitation To The Blues.

D’Arrietta broke character before the final song to take a pot shot at political correctness and mourn the passing of Shane Warne and offered up the gut-wrenching Waits version of Waltzing Matilda as a tribute to a larrikin. It was a sad, beautiful final few moments that was totally appropriate. You see Tom Waits could do that – he could break your heart as you listened, and Stewart D’Arietta took us out in that same fine tradition.

(This review also published in The Clothesline.)

Venus in Fur by David Ives - Review

The Arch at Holden Street Theatres, Fri 4 Mar.

She’s late for the audition. The writer/director is leaving. She insists on auditioning. He tries to leave. She changes into period costume for ’18-whatever’ and becomes the character she is auditioning for. He can’t leave now. And he may never leave. The die is cast. The show has begun. She is perfect for the part… except she doesn’t seem to understand the play. She keeps wanting to subvert it and analyse all these hidden issues which he says are not relevant. He says they’re not there. She says they are.

They argue, dance and parry as they work their way through the script. She thinks he, the writer/director, should be in the play. He resists. Initially. Both are issuing instructions to the other. The sexual tension is palpable. Lines start blurring between the personal and professional as the emotional stakes get higher with each new scene.

VENUS IN FUR was the title of a novel from the 19^th Century that gave rise to the term masochism and is a constant theme throughout the play. But who is to dominate who?

This adaptation for the stage by David Ives is powerful and provocative. Wil King and Bridget Gao-Hollitt are simply magnificent as they tease and taunt each other. Gao-Hollitt’s ability in particular to step in and out of character from the present day to the nineteenth century and back is just so impressive; it’s really quite remarkable. Wil King’s portrayal of a director gradually losing control over his script (and perhaps his life) is also beautifully played.

Engaging writing with multiple layers of complex issues to digest, and totally compelling performances from two seasoned actors combine to create this gripping piece of theatre.

4.5 stars

(This review also published in The Clothesline.)

San Ureshi and Friends - Review

This is not San Ureshi but an old man playing the
erhu in a park in Beijing.

 Nexus Arts at West Village, Sat 26 Feb.

Sometimes listening to great music induces a feeling of total serenity. And when that occurs listening to music from cultures other than your own the experience can border on mystical. The San Ureshi ensemble’s concert at Nexus Arts offered such moments. Listening to this beautifully arranged music from East Asia was like enjoying your own intimate WOMADelaide festival. This collaboration of Chinese and Japanese musical traditions seemed all the more poignant in the current geopolitical climate.

The core ensemble consists of Zhao Lieng (originally from Singapore) on guzheng or Chinese harp; David Dai (Taiwan) on erhu or Chinese violin; and Satomi Ohnishi (Japan) on percussion. One of the early pieces drew inspiration from 12^th century Japan with what sounded like the drums of battle underpinning the beautiful contrasts of the plucked harp against the bowed notes of the erhu. A cello joined the ensemble and the interplay between cello and erhu was at times exquisite. Chinese traditional singer, Cindy Fan, delivered songs in the distinctive high pitched vocal style characteristic of much Chinese folk music and transported us into the mountains of northern China.

Extra violins in the second half of the program added depth and texture to the arrangements. Behind all of these wonderful pieces was a variety of percussion sounds that were sometimes quite forceful and at other times quietly delicate: I heard horses racing across the plains, and the falling of a gentle rain. At other times rhythms were subtle and implied – quite masterful! And watching the elegant hands of Zhao Lieng pluck the strings of her harp was akin to watching the hands of a Balinese dancer.

Satomi Ohnishi’s lighthearted and often humorous introductions to each piece was the perfect counterpoint to some seriously beautiful music. It’s hard not to imagine that this group are headed for bigger and better things. Being at this concert just felt like a very special privilege.

(This review also published in The Clothesline)

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.)

 

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/)

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.)

Lit Up Inside - Selected Lyrics of Van Morrison

 (I have no idea if this review was ever published anywhere. Found it today in the archives so thought I'd put it on the record. Written early 2015.)

Lit Up Inside
Selected Lyrics of Van Morrison
Edited by Eamonn Hughes

(Faber & Faber, 2014, 208 pp, RRP $27.99

I wasn’t sure why someone would want to publish a book of lyrics these days. Lyric sites abound on the net and you can turn up the lyrics of any song you care to name for free in a matter of seconds. And initially I wasn’t sure either why someone would publish a book of lyrics of Van Morrison songs in particular. I don’t think of Van Morrison primarily as a lyricist. He’s a singer, and one of the finest of his generation. He changed the sound of much contemporary music forever with his unique brand of white soul. But he’s an emotional singer that relies very much on painting moods, and these moods are painted with words.

Before I opened the cover of Lit Up Inside I randomly chose a few of my favourite Van Morrison songs to see if they were included – Moondance, Tupelo Honey, Into the Mystic, Brown Eyed Girl, Wavelength - they’re all there. In fact, one third of all the songs he’s ever written are included. I started to remember beautifully sung phrases:

“Well it’s a marvellous night for a moondance
A fantabulous night to make romance” (Moondance)

‘“You can take all the tea in China
Put it in a big brown bag for me” (Tupelo Honey)

And then they just kept coming:

“I want to go to another country that operates along completely different lines”

 “What you lose on the hobby horses you gain on the swings”

“Chopping wood; carry water
What’s the sound of one hand clapping?
Enlightenment – I don’t know what it is” (Enlightenment)

So I’m changing my mind now. I’d forgotten how many fine lyrical moments of his had permanently lodged in my memory and become part of my lexicon.

A foreward from Ian Rankin tells us that there were often ‘stories in the music’ of Van Morrison with characters and commentary, and many of his songs reveal a “search for the spiritual in the commonplace.” Indeed, you don’t listen to Van Morrison for very long before hearing evidence of his preoccupation of things spiritual. But it is not a religious preoccupation in the sense of having a set of beliefs he wants to share. It is more to do with exploring the uncertain nature of existence in the everyday. And he names those places of the everyday, and they are often in his hometown of Belfast. He was one of the first pop/rock writers to name local streets and bars and towns in song the way popular American songwriters have always done. He saw the value of his own place – “even somewhere as unpromising as industrial east Belfast…..can be offered as a place of potential spiritual wonder”. It didn’t need to be Chicago, or San Francisco, or Belfast for that matter. As Morrison sings of his life in Belfast I see and remember the streets and pubs and haunts here in my city that played the same role in my life. By naming parts of Belfast in his songs, he actually legitimised the local experience of people listening to his tales wherever they lived.

So the lyrics of Van Morrison can be studied. There are clear recurring themes – the metaphysical, the imagery associated with radio, rivers, and railways - and to trace the development of these themes it is handy to have them all in one place in a printed volume that can be held in the hand.

But putting rock or pop lyrics on a printed page devoid of their musical context has always been problematic. Lyrics become words stripped of some of their power. And repeated phrases like ‘ya radio, ya radio’ (at the end of Wavelength) written 12 times just doesn’t read well. And what to make of choruses like “Sha la la la la la” etc  from Brown Eyed Girl on the printed page? It helps to read the lyrics as streams of consciousness. You then get a sense of the connection between these lyrics and the poetry of the Beat Generation, and particularly with Allen Ginsberg’s Howl from 1955.

Van Morrison buffs will clearly appreciate this compendium of his lyrics, as will those who wish to study his contribution to rock writing. And it helped me understand why it is that I have enjoyed his music so much over the years. So I’m sold. On balance the words of his songs do have sufficient substance to justify being printed as a book.

“Rave on John Donne; rave on.”

(Photo courtesy of Tom Collins)

 

 

Acoustic Tull's First Review

After going live 9 months ago Acoustic Tull finally have our first independent review – 4 stars from The Upside Review. Quite pleasing actually. I’d been thinking that if I was reviewing our show I’d give us 4 stars!

It’s been a wonderful musical ride thus far. There are many wonderful moments but I think for me it’s when I hear that flute fluttering at the beginning of The Witches Promise or that signature melodic motif in Thick as a Brick I just feel a smile inside in recognition of how good it sounds and feels. These wonderful flute sounds are courtesy of Kerryn Schofield – how lucky we were to find her!

You can read more about the group and how it came about over at our website. There are some videos there as well. There’s also an interview I did that talks more about who we are. There are a few photos on our Facebook site but if you search HERE you should find several photos of us performing.

We have about 30 songs in our repertoire now. Our next gig with our full repertoire will be at current ‘home’ – the Duke of Brunswick hotel on May 23rd.

We have just concluded two sell out shows at the AdelaideFringe – quite an achievement as many shows/venues are reporting lower attendance figures this year. Our Fringe show was much shorter (75 mins) and included some cabaret style elements to make it more Fringe suitable.

Jethro Tull have often included mythical characters in their songs and live performances and we decided to feature one of our own for our Fringe show. We had a friend dressed as an old homeless guy wander through the crowd as we played Aqualung and sit himself down on a bench in front of the stage and read the Thick as a Brick album cover (newspaper) as we played our version of this classic..

The idea was for this old Aqualung character to be totally anonymous and unacknowledged, as homeless people often are, and so we completely ignored him and played on as if he wasn’t there. It seemed this little theatrical cameo was a successful complement to our show but it did raise interesting questions about why we did it.

The questions that were asked with brief answers:

W here did this idea come from?

Tull has a history of using mythical characters in song, on stage and in videos. Reference to the vulnerable and disenfranchised is a recurring theme in Ian Anderson's writing. So the old man character was to reflect what Tull have done for years.

·         Is it merely for visual accompaniment to the song? NO

·         Is it meant to confront the audience with their own prejudices and stereotype notions of the homeless and destitute? YES

·         Is is designed to elicit emotions of sympathy - YES

·         Do you want the audience to be chuckling and sniggering, or squirming in their seats with discomfort?- NEITHER; JUST WONDERING WHY

·         How many of the audience I wonder would have gone away with a different (sympathetic) attitude to the homeless? MOST HOPEFULLY

·         Would the song be better served by a shocking slide show that portrays the injustice of the poor and abandoned? NO. THAT WAS NOT TULL’S WAY. TOO DIDACTIC

·         Was this just playing a practical joke at the expense of the disenfranchised? DEFINITELY NO

Greg Champion Review

Perhaps Greg Champion’s biggest claim to fame is being part of an ABC radio show that has been running for 40 years - the Coodabeen Champions. Author of one of many contenders for what couldabeen the national anthem – I Made A 100 In The Backyard At Mum’s – he’s a very funny man. Raised on the Hectorville tablelands (que?), he left Adelaide sometime in the distant past to seek fame and fortune with Adelaide band The Fabulaires, but somehow stumbled into the growing new field of musical sport comedy and has been there ever since. Or actually, he might have invented it!

40 years of live performance on radio and stage has yielded a performer very much in command of his quirky genre. His forte is writing satirical lyrics to well-known tunes – whether it be poking fun at Port Adelaide fans (something he does quite a lot of!), or the clichés coaches use in talks to their players. Another odd but considerable talent is the ability to play with the sounds of language in song – tongue-twisting Australian place names for example, or stringing together French words and phrases stolen by English.

Though he’s been living in Victoria for decades he says he still calls South Australia home and of course he has a song about it! Lots of wonderful local content that wouldabeen useless performing in any other state. He draws material from some of the more whacky listeners to Coodabeen Champions over the years that sometimes have better memories of songs he has done in the past than he does, and have also provided snippets of wisdom that occasionally made sense, or even if they didn’t were funny anyway.

This was a delightful show. Despite what he said, there were several people in the audience under 85 and we all laughed a lot. I don’t know why there weren’t more people there – there shouldabeen. Maybe they’re too old to get out? Or dead? Perhaps the audience for someone who makes jokes about football is too small? No matter – their loss.

And besides, it’s not just about football. The finale featuring several alternative versions of the National Anthem didn’t mention football once and was still hilarious. No couldabeen about it, he’s a comic champion.

(This review also published on The Clothesline)

Bordertown

Holden Street Theatres – The Studio, Fri 5 Apr.

Bordertown is a convenient half way marker on road trips between Adelaide and Melbourne. Apparently Bob Hawke was also born there. He spent most of his childhood in Perth but a trip back to the town as an adult and a chance visit to a local hairdresser was enough to generate the urban myth that Bob’s silver bodgie hairstyle was born in Bordertown.

This is important to Patricia Barnes, the local hairdresser. In fact hair in general is important. It has to be or she has nothing. She complements her empty life with the inane trivia of celebrities because they matter. They’re successful. And she decides that her daughter must escape to Hollywood where people find success.

Chris Asimos as Emilio Sanchez bursts on to the stage and regales us with his charisma and de rigeur larger than life star behaviour. He’s funny, and genuine, and he falls completely for that girl from somewhere near the border. The scene where he and Felicity (Kim Fox) flirt with each other on first meeting is beautifully choreographed and exudes romantic chemistry.

Dennis the taxi driver doesn’t really go for this celebrity stuff. Although he has a tendency to fall under the thumb of the women in his life, in his own yokel way he’s become his own man. His quirky manner provides a glimpse of the Australian psyche that provides a telling contrast to the Hollywood way. It’s a lovely and endearing performance from Brendan Cooney.

Bordertown is an entertaining and funny show, with strong and convincing performances all round. Katie O’Reilly’s portrayal of Patricia is wonderful. But beneath the humour is the sad fact that many of us seem to need this link with the lives of celebrities to make our own lives more palatable. People’s lives become more important if they’ve had a chance meeting with a celebrity, or they know someone who is a cousin of a famous actor, etc etc. It’s really quite pathetic.

But that is Patricia’s reality. You have to find that connection with fame, and it matters not if it’s true or otherwise. What matters is that people believe it happened, that you’ll be remembered and talked about for years after, because you knew someone famous. And you cared about your hair!

(This review also published on The Clothesline.)

What then, are our responsibilities, as elders, in this world which carries the scent and spoor of our youthful enthusiasms?

A colleague on the TALO email list (yes there are some still) posed this question in regard to our collective role in promoting use of the internet before it all went wrong. I felt compelled to answer: 

I don’t know if this was a serious question but I’m going to assume it was. Because this has been on my mind. Where the Internet and social media has led us has me worried. And when Tim Berners-Lee says much the same I feel my concerns are well founded.

I’m trying to reconcile my own part in all of this. Like many on this list I was an enthusiastic advocate for teaching and learning online. I don’t know if I was an advocate of the Internet in particular. I was certainly fascinated by its potential, and what it might do to our lives. But I don’t think I was an advocate per se in the way that people like Mark Pesce may have been. I remember Pesce boasting unashamedly that ‘the Internet is coming and I am a pusher!”

I still stand by the Internet’s potential to improve education, in the hands of experienced and wise facilitators. But there are still so few of them. But after 22 years of watching its impact I am worried about what the internet and mobile technologies have done to our lives.

I am feeling a sense of professional embarrassment. How can I/we not have seen this coming? For me it’s connected with the election of Trump. That stunned me. I was one of those who thought it would never happen. Don’t laugh, but I thought humanity was evolving to a point where trogladytes like Trump would be left behind.  It was as if his election snapped me out of a naïve dream.

Similarly I knew the potential of social media to spread evil, but like all good fairytales I thought good would prevail. And it still might. But with all the good it has done, it has connected all those with a message of hate and division. It fosters unrest based on lies and misinformation in Ukraine, genocide in Myanmar, subverts democratic processes, and provides a platform for murderers, racists and child pornographers to peddle their wares.

And I do think it’s time to call a spade a spade and declare as T Bone Burnett has done that it is stealing our culture on the basis of some flimsy pretext like ‘all knowledge wants to be free’.

So I do feel like making a public apology quite honestly, where I can admit that I was naive about a lot of things. That may absolve my conscience but do I/we who were at the vanguard of the changes have a responsibility to try now and fix up the mess and redress some of the mistakes?

Joan Armatrading in Adelaide

Apologies for the blur. I was interrupted by 'security' as I was taking
the shot (no pix allowed) and was not allowed to reshoot.

Joan Armatrading

The Gov, Sun Dec 7

Joan Armatrading burst on to the music scene in the mid seventies as a black woman who didn't sound like a typical black singer. She had a unique sense of melody and phrasing that was all her own. Born in the West Indies, she moved to Birmingham in the UK at the age of 7. I, like millions of others, was smitten by her self-titled breakthrough album in 1976, and after her performance at The Gov here in Adelaide, I'm still smitten.

Her music crosses an extraordinary range of styles - folk, pop, rock, blues, jazz - and while she is equally at home in all of them, she doesn't actually belong in any of them. Joan Armatrading is one of those rare artists who simply sounds like herself. Whatever style she is experimenting with, she dances on the edges of it. So you get her interpretation of blues; her interpretation of jazz. Except perhaps for rock. When she veers down the rock path she, surprisingly, is a classic rocker. A couple of guitar solos sounded quite Hendrix-esque. And then she's just as likely to follow that up with a soft melodic ballad on piano.

Armatrading took us through a representative sample of a musical canon that spans four decades. There were plenty of her best known numbers - Me Myself I, Drop the Pilot, Love and Affection, All the Way from America _- and a selection of songs from her more recent forays into jazz and blues influenced offerings.

From the outset she was gracious and witty. I loved the way she paused at the conclusion of each song long enough to allow us to show our appreciation, and for us to see her smile warmly in enjoyment of the moment. Quite endearing.

Midway through her performance we were treated to a slide show of her career highlights - musical and personal. It felt like we were in her lounge room at home sharing precious memories. It was a nice touch.

Several songs featured pre-recorded parts to fill out the sound. At times this worked really well. It allowed her to play nifty jazz lead parts on songs like Stepping Out, and have us enjoy the brass embellishment on the classic Love and Affection. She told us she's played this song in every concert she's ever played, and you can see why. It is indeed a classic. ("Sing me another love song but this time with a little dedication.") On other songs like the reggae influenced Rosie I found the extra overlay intrusive.

Drop the Pilot was very funky, and Me Myself I once again revealed Joan the rocker. She finished with the gentle Willow, and invited the audience to join in. We all sent ourselves home singing in unison as Joan sat, smiling again, at the keyboard.

It was a privilege to finally see Joan Armatrading in person. She's still pushing boundaries and her voice still sounds as rich and mellifluous as it ever did. Like 'massage for the brain' someone commented. Swapping seamlessly between electric guitar, piano and her trademark 12 string Ovation, she generously shared forty years of original music and few were disappointed. Most in fact were rapt.

(Also published on The Clothesline)

Footnote:

7 years later I was rapt to find this review featured on Joan Armatrading's own website!