Sydney Dance Company. Her Majesty’s Theatre. 6 Aug 2015
De Novo (Latin): “from the beginning, afresh, anew”.
Sydney Dance Company’s new suite of three works, by three different choreographers, collectively embodies the essence of ‘De Novo’
With choreography by Artistic Director Rafael Bonachela, Larissa McGowan and Alexander Ekman, Sydney Dance Company gifts their audience with an evening of pure playtime for the curious of mind, romantically inclined, and pop culture enthusiast.
What it means to ‘emerge’, to reveal, grounds all three works. Topical subjects are played with afresh. How things are perceived to be is imagined anew.
The opening work, Bonachela’s Emergence, proves a rich experience in three phases.
Benjamin Cisterne’s lighting and Dion Lee’s costumes synchronise impressively with the subtle range in Bonachela’s choreography, which is centred on the body and emotive expression. The unified whole is beautiful and canny.
The first phase finds dancers wearing a striking mix of black and white, lit by thin mobile tubes of bright white. Classical form, lifts, and duets infuse the piece with a romantic air. Dancers are turned and lifted to the white side and back to the black in a series of passionate duets. One is enchanted as the svelte forms of dancers’ bodies are suddenly revealed and then hidden again. The gorgeously revealed human forms give both light and costume designs breath-taking purpose.
The costumes remain for phase two and it seems Lee’s design might constrict the choreography, but it is not so. The lighting shifts to warm yellow, and throws into relief both white and black; the dancers’ bodies are more fully revealed.
Choreographically, Bonachela moves to contemporary mode. The lighting change, combined with free flowing, warm and energetic glides, company tableaux and duets, offers a lovely sense of freedom and openness. The striking juxtaposition to the emotional intensity of phase one’s sense of “now you see it, now you don’t” is refreshing.
Bonachela’s third phase finds the company in black leotards with differing grey graphic designs. The previous phase had edged closer to a sense of full ‘revelation’. These more muted colours seem a reversion. Is it? There is a choreographic focus on strict adherence to line and form and turns draw one’s eyes to both the costume graphics and body shape, without really offering a sense of where the work’s journey has gone. Back to the beginning, perhaps?
McGowan’s Fanatic, a reimagining of cult sci-fi films Alien and Predator, is obviously a massive fan boy/girl audience moment given its enthusiastic reception.
Partnering with dramaturg Sam Haren, sound constructor Steve Mayhew, and lighting designer Benjamin Cisterne, McGowan throws down a gutsy, hard-core, comic 15 minutes of pure pop culture bliss.
Focussed on the character Ripley and pivotal film scenes, McGowan lovingly tears them apart and rebuilds them, bending character’s bodies using sharp, stop/start, angled moves cued to Mayhew’s sound effects and spoken lines. Cisterne’s sharp lighting references the movies’ darkest moments.
Fanatic has the audience with them. Haren’s contribution ensures a sharp and punchy dramatic structure, taking McGowan’s piece to another level entirely. The opening night audience is in thrall, accepting the work’s interpretation of the films as totally authentic. That is McGowan and team’s big achievement.
The final work, Ekman’s Cacti, roundly rails against how and why art is critically perceived. The choreography displays a tremendously bright, sharp and biting, cerebral sense of humour.
High art evaluation and criticism is mockingly examined in the nicest, most richly entertaining way. What better way to play with such ideas than to use a string quartet playing onstage?
Cacti has its roots more in music theatre than contemporary dance, though of course, it is the contemporary approach grounding the work.
Ekman co-designed the set with Thomas Visser. It consists of square blocks used as pedestals. On each pedestal crouches a dancer, costumed by Ekman in black coolie cap, body stocking and black coolie trousers.
His dancers make wonderful statues and film stars - not to mention a fantastic music theatre vaudeville hall dance corp, as the string quartet play around them.
The pedestal boxes come into their own as Cacti progresses; morphing from pedestal to painting canvas, to small screen to dressing box, to postmodern architectural construct.
Ekman and Visser combine to produce a work criticising the static nature of art perception which is lapped up by an appreciative, knowing audience.
David O’Brien
When: 6 to 8 Aug
Where: Her Majesty’s Theatre
Bookings: Closed
St Jude’s Players. St Jude's Hall. 7 Aug 2015
The bar heaters glow aloft in the St Jude's Hall. The audience sits well rugged up. It's a cold winter's night in Adelaide.
Onstage, it is yet colder. It is winter in New England. Windows on the set show scenes of snow outside.
The characters of Rhode Island playwright Tom Griffin's play, Einstein and the Polar Bear, stomp in through the door complaining about and endlessly discussing the oppressions and beauties of the white winter weather. Indeed, introductory premise of the play is girl seeking help and shelter when car breaks down in a blizzard in an isolated and snow-besieged village.
What she finds is the most wonderful bookshop. Floor-to-ceiling books and then more books in substantial expanse - or so it becomes under the design of director Dave Simms. This is one stunning set. It was created by a backstage cast of thousands and its substance and beauty stand as dividend to their loving labour. Books are real and books are painted. With lighting, perhaps just a little too low, they enfold the eye in a gently claustrophobic spirit of fusty, antiquarian book obsession.
There's a desk or two, a couch and a big leather wing chair in which poor old Andy snoozes the days away in a mysterious stroke-affected otherworld. The one thing he remembers is meeting Einstein in a Rhode Island coffee shop when he was a young man in a blue suit. In snatches of consciousness, he reiterates this fragmented memory. It is thematic to the play.
It is his son Bill's bookshop. He's a famous writer who has become a recluse, no longer writing but occasionally selling rare books online. His human world now consists of dad, the affable local postman plus an ice-fishing local mechanic and his seemingly naive wife.
Then urbane Diane Ashe steps out of the blizzard and into the shop looking for help.
There follows an engaging dance of new acquaintance in which stories are exchanged and a certain chemistry is aroused. Offers of a place for her to sleep elsewhere are rejected. She stays with Bill.
The postman, the mechanic and the wife come and go knocking on the door, letting it stand open way longer than anyone in a real New England winter would permit and, indeed, wearing much lighter winter clothing than anyone in New England would countenance.
Dad is ever-present, if not in his chair, ringing a bell from another room. He is loved but endured by his son. It's a fatalistic interdependence. He understands more than he indicates. He obeys requests to make hot chocolate or change his clothes. Norm Caddick depicts this old man's twilight world and his periodic announcements about Einstein. It is one of those exquisite occasions in which a small role's significance is made large through performance. In this case, it is the actor's compassionate understanding, underplay and outreach beyond the fourth wall. It is a sublime performance which will long linger in the mind.
Allison Scharber gives fine balance to Diane, breezy and confident and yet somehow shadowy. One does not understand why until the denouement. Adam Tuominen has never given a bad performance. His voice and poise always find the mark of the character to hand. He is an interesting and moving Bill.
Andrew Horwood, on the other hand, gives a spirited characterisation of the mechanic Bobby, but seems way too old to be the reluctant rake of the script. Shelley Hampton flits sweetly as the child-like wife. And handsome Peter Davies, as the town busybody of a postman, sports an accent and inflection so original it takes a while for the audience to tune in.
It's here director Simms needs to make a change or two, bring the actor forward more often. He needs to puff up the costumes to convince that it is really New England out there. And he needs to bring the lighting up.
This is the Australian premiere of Einstein and the Polar Bear and yes, there is a polar bear.
It is not a great work of theatre but it is an interesting work. The characters are well-defined and complex. There are threads of symbolism and dashes of humour. It is well-rounded.
It niggles in the mind that it must have been inspired by J.D. Salinger who was, indeed, a famous writer recluse in that very neck of the woods, but there is no mention or reference in either the play or the programme notes.
Either way, this show is a decent way to find shelter on a cold Adelaide night.
Samela Harris
When: 7 to 15 Aug
Where: St Jude's Hall, Brighton
Bookings: trybooing.com
State Theatre Company. Dunstan Playhouse. 28 Jul 2015
Centred on three characters; Emma, a woman caught between a husband and a lover; Jerry, a successful writer’s agent, and Robert, Emma’s husband cuckolded by Jerry, Harold Pinter’s Betrayal is an enthralling piece of theatre which explores the emotional intricacies of three relatively mundane individuals.
Arguably one of Pinter’s most interesting plays, Betrayal employs reverse chronology as a fundamental device which puts the audience in the same ‘knowing’ position as the characters. With knowledge of what has come the audience can make estimations on what went before, making the trademark Pinter silences all the more powerful. The play is packed with layers of meaning and subtext that, as a result of this device, can be read by even the most unperceptive viewer.
Geoff Cobham (Design and Lighting) has set the production on a revolve which Geordie Brookman (Direction) uses to great effect. The circular stage is bounded by a rotating clothes rack which, on the surface, is used to facilitate lightening quick set and costume changes. However, as the play unfolds, the unconventional set represents so much more; like bare bones, the exposed wardrobe reflects what is unravelling on stage, a sequence of events normally closeted and hidden is played out in front of the audience. The dirty secrets of a long, incestuous love affair hang in the air like the clothes on their rack.
Jason Sweeney (Sound Design) subtly brings life to the otherwise bare settings with a cleverly employed soundscape that punctuates the silences. Startling scene changes have us jumping from our seats with their stark juxtaposition. Pinter’s play is not about locations, rather the interactions and emotions of his characters. The basic, yet visually appealing set and sound scape complement this.
It is the players that take this production to the next level, however. Pinter's characters are complex and flawed and Alison Bell, Nathan O’Keefe, Mark Saturno and John Maurice deliver considered and generous performances. The play’s limited dialogue is no foil for the actors who play the subtext brilliantly.
Saturno is the perfect sadist. Using his knowledge of Emma’s affair with Jerry (O’Keefe) he berates and belittles her with delicious scorn and absolute contempt. His vain attempt to console her after Jerry leaves on the promise of a squash game speaks volumes. Saturno wonderfully carries his character's repressed rage and viperous sarcasm, only very occasionally letting it get away from him. How they ever stayed together so long remains a mystery.
O’Keefe plays on Pinter’s menace whilst striking an interesting balance between salaciousness and insecurity. His Jerry is completely selfish, until he finally bares it all in a drunken expulsion of emotion and an outpouring of love.
Alison Bell is rarely given a chance to play Emma with any sense of joy. The joyous moments are just so and we relish in them, but hers is the performance that defines the title. Bell is the betrayed and the betrayer. Her Emma is heavy with guilt, manipulated by power and seeking love and affection.
Brookman’s Betrayal truly is ‘a ruthless exploration of the human heart’ and one that could cut close to the bone for some audience members. For fans of Pinter and newcomers alike this is a highly recommended production.
Paul Rodda
When: 24 Jul to 15 Aug
Where: Dunstan Playhouse
Bookings: bass.net.au
Something on Saturday. Emma Knights Productions. The Banquet Room. 25 Jul 2015
The Festival Centre’s Something On Saturday programme is as popular as ever. This year Emma Knights has, along with Director Curtis Shipley, brought together a team of some of Adelaide’s finest improvisational actors to present a play made up on the spot with inspiration taken directly from the suggestions of the young audience.
At an hour long, one might expect the attention of the 2 to 10 year olds to wane by half way, but it is not the case. Like an episode of playschool, the actors keep the kids constantly engaged without being condescending.
Starring Curtis Shipley, Eden Trebilco, Kirsty Wigg, Jarrad Parker, Sam Griffin and with Emma Knights on the keyboard, the group are even brave enough to improvise musical numbers with adlibbed lyrics to a randomised tune.
Whilst improv purists might pick flaws and the occasional broken rule, the kids don’t care at all. For them the hour simply flies by. The conclusion of the show doesn’t hail the end of the fun, as the kids make their way to the foyer for more creativity in the form of cutting, colouring, arts and crafts.
It might not have the highest of production values, and audiences shouldn’t expect any strong take-away themes or learnings, but it is light hearted entertainment for the little ones. A pleasant way to spend an hour on a rainy weekend.
Paul Rodda
When: Closed
Where: The Banquet Room
Bookings: Closed
Bakehouse Theatre. Adapt Productions. 25 Jul 2015
It's good to have a dose of David Williamson from time to time, just to dip into the styles and mores of yesterday's Australia. So much has changed and yet so little.
The Perfectionist retains its currency by depicting a 70s academic couple in a highly competitive marriage. They are both obsessed with their PhDs and a delusional sense of the importance of it all. They also are being very progressive, experimenting with open marriage. The play begins in Denmark where the wife, Barbara, is hiring a male babysitter for the unseen children - a charming bleeding heart leftie called Erik. Husband Stuart, a smug and unimaginative man, has a good academic post and is endlessly engaged on a PhD in which he seeks unattainable perfection. After nine years and three sons, it is still not done. Barbara thinks it's time she had a turn to get hers done. And thus, as the couple returns to Australia, are the roles reversed.
In my memory, it's a fairly sharp and pithy play about some pretty awful people, a classic old Williamson streaked with ironic wit. This revival does not quite match up with the pace and edginess of remembered productions, though it may tighten up as the run progresses at the Bakehouse.
While Cheryl Douglas holds the mood and character of the play well as Barbara, ironically it is the director Ross Vosvotekas casting himself as the male lead which is the key problem. He is not the right actor for that role and his delivery comes across rather like a reading. He loosens only in final scenes. Chris Knight makes a fair fist of Erik with a very interesting accent while Kim York and Rick Mills work well as the long-suffering, flawed old parents.
Amanda Jane Bell clearly has had fun with the 70s costumes. Stuart's flares seem to have been arduously added to modern strides. Erik's wide trews are floppy long. Barbara and Shirley have some terrific floaty outfits and clearly everyone has tried hard.
The set is another story. It starts in 70s orange. Very orange. Barbara is wearing a matching orange gown as well. Oddly, when the family moves to Sydney, they have a dramatic decline in aesthetic taste. The paintings are screamingly atrocious in this broad living room set.
By accident or by design, Adapt has presented the audience with some interesting challenges to carry them through possible lacklustre moments. One is a hanging chess game played into a head-spinningly impossible position which one can't help but keep trying to solve. Another is wondering why Barbara appears to be reading the same book for about a year. Another is pondering why the parents take their champagne from dessert dishes. Yet another is contemplating why the academic's domestic roster looks as if it has been done by a 12-year-old.
These mysteries, along with a veritable hit parade of 70s music blasted out merrily amid the myriad scene changes, give the show another strand of entertainment value. And the play itself, of course.
The Perfectionist remains an interesting and engaging play which still, with issues such as open marriage and parenting, provides substance for a pleasantly provocative winter's night out.
Samela Harris
When: 24 Jul to 8 Aug
Where: Bakehouse Theatre
Bookings: bakehousetheatre.com