Cameron Woodhead August 7, 2019 — 2.11pm ★★★★ A cabaret set amid the horror and deprivation of Jewish ghettoes in World War II? You’d have to be crazy. Totally meshugah. Yet Galit Klas has created one of the most…
Wednesday, 24 July 2019 Lisa Gorton ★★★★ In this intelligent and unusual play, director Peta Hanrahan arranges Virginia Woolf’s great essay A Room of One’s Own into an hour-long play for four voices. Curiously, perhaps, it works so well as…
Monday 17 June Cameron Woodhead ★★★ Highbrow types won’t need reminding that Sunday was Bloomsday. Named after the central character in James Joyce’s Ulysses, it’s the date on which that towering monument of modernist fiction was set, and it has…
Saturday 8 June Alison Croggon Love and Shit, an exhilarating double bill by Patricia Cornelius at fortyfivedownstairs, expose the uncomfortable realities of Australia’s underclass. In doing so, these plays remind us how vital theatre can be. Sometimes, I really do…
Chris Boyd The Australian April 20, 2016 Here’s a production to rescue The Merry Wives of Windsor from the remainder pile of Shakespearean history. If you know the plot at all, chances are you picked it up from Verdi’s last…
THIS SHOW IS NOT FOR THE PRUDISH SO READ ON AT YOUR OWN RISK. The Room (Movie) has become a cult staple and is regarded as the Citizen Kane of sh*?@t movies. YOU’RE TEARING ME APARTMENT: THE ROOMSICAL, more a…
See article in its original context here.
Tennessee Williams is best known for a string of classic plays, such as Cat On A Hot Tin Roof, A Streetcar Named Desire and The Glass Menagerie that form part of a golden thread of twentieth century American drama.
Yet it is a lesser known work of Williams’, Vieux Carré, begun in the 1930s and not completed for more than 40 years, that will feature on the Melbourne stage from next week.
Opening on January 17, ITCH productions presents the Australian premiere of Vieux Carré – an exploration of interlinking themes, as always with Williams, of sex, art, creativity, anguish and social constraints that limit that very exploration.
Forming part of Midsumma 2013, the performance opens the year for fortyfivedownstairs with a humorous and very personal work, a ‘memory play’ that follows the period of artistic, social and sexual discovery of the young American.
See the article in its original context here.
ITCH Productions presents the Australian premiere of Vieux Carré by Tennessee Williams as a Midsumma 2013 premier event at fortyfivedownstairs. It is a rich and haunting drama set in Williams’ favourite backdrop – the French Quarter of New Orleans.
This is one of Williams’ lesser known plays which he began writing in 1938 but did not complete until nearly 40 years later. It is largely autobiographical and may be described as the beginning of Williams’ exploration of self as well as his development of mood, melodrama and ‘memory play’ technique which were to become his trademark in later, more recognizable works.
Review by Alison Croggon for Theatre Notes on 14 October. See here in it’s full context.
La beauté, “Beauty is difficult, Yeats” said Aubrey Beardsley
when Yeats asked why he drew horrors
or at least not Burne-Jones
and Beardsley knew he was dying and had to
make his hit quickly
Hence no more B-J in his product.
So very difficult, Yeats, beauty so difficult.
– Ezra Pound, Cantos
I left Whiteley’s Incredible Blue last night with Pound’s verse circling around my head. Barry Dickins’s new play, subtitled “an hallucination”, is almost an essay on the proposition of the difficulty and necessity of beauty, through the medium of the enfant terrible of Australian art, Brett Whiteley.
Review by Kate Herbert for The Herald Sun, October 14. See it in it's original context here. BRETT Whiteley, one of Australia's great painters, was a tortured artist - a self-indulgent, free spirit and heroin addict. In Barry Dickins' play,…
Nora and Torvald are cashed up and climbing: bespoke warehouse conversion, perfect children, and a shiny new job at a major bank for Torvald. Everything that Nora could want is due for Christmas. A classic play masterfully transposed to contemporary…
Interview and review by Christina Amphlett for Beat Magazine, see it in it’s full context here.
Forget those tired old burlesque dancers swooning on stage, all dolled up in sequins and feathers galore. The Burlesque Hour brings a far more surreal experience to the table, startling and exciting audiences through a rather whacky method of seduction. Feathers and all.
Under an ochre sky something happened at Mt. Ragged. The incident inspired celebrated bush poet Daniel Gartrell’s (John Wood) most analysed piece of verse ... a poem that’s final verse has never been published. Now an enigma, Gartrell lives as…
Urban Display Suite is a deliciously malicious musical satire on our national obsession with the property market. With Melbourne houses the most overvalued in the world, our city is awash with tandoori tanned real estate agents, tasteless architecture and boring…
Cafe Scheherazade and Arnold Zable featured in The Age: (melbourne) magazine Box Office, Friday 25 Feb
Café Scheherazade featured in The Age: Epicure on 22 February.
My Name is Rachel Corrie
November 4 – 14, 2010
For those who have followed the ongoing Israel-Palestine conflict the name Rachel Corrie may well ring a bell, for others the name will be as meaningless as Joe Bloggs and Paula Brown. However, this one-woman production compiled by Alan Rickman (of Harry Potter fame) and Katharine Viner (deputy editor of The Guardian) is ensuring that Corrie’s legacy is not forgotten. On January 22nd 2003, the 23 year old American student flew to Israel to work as a volunteer for International Solidarity Movement, the pacifist Palestinian protest organisation. Less than two months later, Corrie was killed in the name of her cause when an Israeli bulldozer crushed her to death as she defended a Palestinian home.
This article about My Name is Rachel Corrie was written by Liza Power and published in The Age on Saturday 30 October 2010. See it in its original context here. An idealistic life remembered Liza Power October 30, 2010 Image:…
This review of Carnival of Mysteries was written by Christine Hill and published on Oz Baby Boomers on Saturday 16 October 2010. See it in its original context here.
The Carnival of Mysteries, created and directed by Moira Finucane & Jackie Smith
fortyfivedownstairs, Melbourne | Until 30 October
Step right up folks. Be amazed, be surprised, be thoroughly entertained by this extraordinary spectacle, created and directed by Moira Finucane and Jackie Smith, and brought to you by the Melbourne International Arts Festival and fortyfive downstairs.
Finucane and Smith’s trademark mix of provocation and entertainment starts in the theatre lobby where, on arrival, everyone is rubber stamped, issued a ‘passport’, and given 30,000 carnival dollars. A suitably sleazy spruiker (David Pidd) explains the rules to the bemused but eager audience-in-waiting before we troop down the stairs to enter the world of the Carnival.
It’s crazy, camp, kitsch experimentalism. You can shut your eyes to Garçon Gigolo, but he will not stop staring at you no matter how hard you might wish him to stop. Welcome to the uncomfortable weirdness that is the Carnival of Mysteries.
I was always susceptible to liking Mari Lourey’s new play, Bare Witness. What with an interest in areas of conflict; that I’d just re-read Hare & Brent’s Pravda and an equally scathing depiction of journalism in a friend’s new play that is the glorious bastard child of Hare, Brent, Stoppard and Beckett; I was almost certain to be provoked. But where BW differs is that its focus is the corruption of the image, not words. Whereas the latter can be nimble and conjure the trick of “truth” in front of eyes — hearing how it’s done behind the by-line would deflate anyone insistent on objectivity — an image is supposed to be bare A camera is a witness, a machine that doesn’t need to decipher right from wrong. But this is not true either.
The camera makes everyone a tourist in other people’s reality, and eventually in one’s own. – Susan Sontag
A rare collaboration between two of Melbourne’s most important creative spaces, Mari Lourey’s Bare Witness is a joint presentation by La Mama Theatre and fortyfivedownstairs, in the latter organisation’s bunker-like venue beneath Flinders Lane. The space suits the work admirably, for Bare Witness is an expressionistic exploration of the experiences of a diverse group of photojournalists in three different war zones: Bosnia in the early 1990s, Timor Leste in the dark days before its independence from Indonesia, and contemporary Iraq.
The audience’s introduction to this blood, developing fluid and adrenaline-soaked world is Australian photographer Dani Hill (Daniela Farinacci), who in a short space of time goes from snapping hats and frocks at Flemington race course to photographing corpses and grieving widows in the Balkans. Years later, Dani looks back through her old photographs, recalling the stories behind the 11 most powerful shots; stories which are then played out for the audience, counting down slowly to the traumatic revelation behind the final, heartbreaking photograph.
When you see pictures of the casualties of war on the television news or in the newspapers, do you ever wonder about the person who took them? This special La Mama Theatre presentation in conjunction with fortyfive downstairs is about that person.
Bare Witness is an amazing dramatic collage describing the exhilaration, the horror, the outrage, the anguish and the dread hopelessness of combat-zone photography, fusing a compelling life story, expressive choreography, poetic visual effects, a complex moral dilemma and the best sound design of any production seen in Melbourne this year. It’s written by Mari Lourey and directed by Nadja Kostich, and it’s showing now at Melbourne’s Fortyfivedownstairs.
Without realising I pass into the zone of a dangerous place…
‘…to see truth, to capture it, to wing it home…landing on my doorstep wrapped in newsprint…tripping into the lounge room through the screen…No-one remembers how it works’
(Excerpt from The Aerodynamics of Death, Robyn Rowland)
Bare Witness by Mari Lourey explores this very idea by scrutinising and paying homage to the experiences of a group of photojournalists seen through the eyes of Australian correspondent Dani in the warzones of the Balkans, East Timor and Iraq. The story follows Dani from her beginnings in the field through to the aforementioned countries. She sets out to ‘capture the perfect image’ but it eventually all becomes too much for her and she realises she has to face the humanity staring at her through the lens. As Lourey states in the program notes she found herself asking why these people place themselves in such extraordinary and often dangerous situations for the sake of maybe one published image.
I’m loath to say this, for several reasons, but nevertheless: sometimes you have to point out the obvious. (In Ms TN’s case, pointing out the obvious is my raison d’etre). The City at Red Stitch and La Mama’s Bare Witness at Fortyfivedownstairs are productions which demonstrate that our indie women directors can be as ambitious, imaginative, intelligent, out-there theatrical and aesthetically tough as any man.