Thursday, 30 July 2015
Wednesday, 29 July 2015
Tuesday, 28 July 2015
Saturday, 25 July 2015
Friday, 24 July 2015
Monday, 20 July 2015
Saturday, 18 July 2015
Thursday, 16 July 2015
Tuesday, 14 July 2015
Sunday, 28 June 2015
Sunday, 21 June 2015
Monday, 15 June 2015
Sunday, 14 June 2015
Saturday, 13 June 2015
Wednesday, 3 June 2015
Saturday, 30 May 2015
Friday, 22 May 2015
Wednesday, 13 May 2015
Monday, 11 May 2015
Saturday, 9 May 2015
Friday, 8 May 2015
Thursday, 7 May 2015
Wednesday, 6 May 2015
Tuesday, 5 May 2015
Friday, 1 May 2015
Thursday, 30 April 2015
Wednesday, 29 April 2015
Tuesday, 28 April 2015
Saturday, 25 April 2015
Wednesday, 22 April 2015
Monday, 20 April 2015
Sunday, 19 April 2015
Saturday, 18 April 2015
Friday, 17 April 2015
Thursday, 16 April 2015
Wednesday, 15 April 2015
Tuesday, 14 April 2015
Monday, 13 April 2015
Sunday, 12 April 2015
Saturday, 11 April 2015
Friday, 10 April 2015
Thursday, 9 April 2015
Wednesday, 8 April 2015
Tuesday, 7 April 2015
Monday, 6 April 2015
Sunday, 5 April 2015
Tango and Contemporary collide in a kaleidoscope of sensuality
Milonga is the hit tango show raising the roof at the Arts Centre
this week. The art of tango has
captivated the world with its sexuality, power and beauty for centuries, and
Milonga is a fascinating exploration of this traditional dance from a
contemporary perspective.
It is important to begin by explaining that Milonga celebrates Argentine tango (the
originator of the form), not ballroom tango which was developed later as the
dance was introduced to Europe and America.
Argentine tango is danced in an embrace that can vary from very open, in
which leader and follower connect at arms length, to very closed, in which the
connection is chest-to-chest, or anywhere in between. Argentine tango dancing relies heavily on
improvisation rather than precise, rehearsed structures.
The word milonga has three meanings. The first is that of one of the type of
music. Milonga is a musical genre that
originated in the RÃo de la Plata areas of Argentina and Uruguay. It was very
popular in the 1870s. It was derived from an earlier style of singing known as
the payada de contrapunto. The song was set to a lively 2/4 tempo, as are most
milongas. Milongas have been compared to an excited habanera.
Secondly, there is the dance.
Milonga dance incorporates the same basic elements as Tango but permits
a greater relaxation of legs and body. Movement is normally faster, and pauses
are less common. It is usually a kind of rhythmic walking without complicated
figures, with a more humorous and rustic style in contrast with the serious and
dramatic Tango.
Finally, milonga is a term for a place or an event where
tango is danced. The music played is
mainly tango, vals and milonga (as the musical genre). Most milongas are held
on a regular basis (usually weekly), and they often begin with dancing classes
and sometimes demonstration dances.
The show Milonga
embraces all three aspects of the word.
In that very passionate South American way, the story is a basic love
story. It takes place in a milonga,
where milonga is danced and played. The
twist, is that – also very much in the milonga tradition – the choreography is
a blend of tango and contemporary.
Tango is an art form that is very much danced with the lower
part of the body – sharp kicks and intertwined legs happening everywhere. Choreographer Sidi Larbi Cherkaoui was
interested in exploring a dynamic with the upper body as well. Working side by side with tango consultant
Nelida Rodriguez de Aure, they have created the most beautiful ensemble work
which retains all of the technical and emotional aspects of tango, yet explores
brave, new, beautiful worlds of movement and storytelling.
Cherkaoui - a Belgian choreographer known for his ability to
translate emotion into dance - has used
this wonderful dance form, which already speaks closely to relationships, to
redefine and expand on the layers of interactions between couples and
groups. Between friends and rivals. Between individuals and society.
Milonga consists of a cast of fifteen dancers and live musicians as
well.
Milonga respects the traditions of the tango whilst also drawing it
onto the twenty first century of movement.
As it says in the media release, ‘Lust made tangible. Movement breaking boundaries.’
Saturday, 4 April 2015
.JPG)
Friday, 3 April 2015
Thursday, 2 April 2015
Wednesday, 1 April 2015
Tuesday, 31 March 2015
Monday, 30 March 2015
Sunday, 29 March 2015
Saturday, 28 March 2015
Friday, 27 March 2015
Thursday, 26 March 2015
Wednesday, 25 March 2015
Monday, 23 March 2015
Saturday, 21 March 2015
Thursday, 19 March 2015
Wednesday, 18 March 2015
Tuesday, 17 March 2015
Monday, 16 March 2015
.JPG)
Thursday, 12 March 2015
Wednesday, 11 March 2015
Monday, 9 March 2015
Sunday, 8 March 2015
Psychopomp & Seething review
Barking Spider Visual Theatre presented a double bill at La Mama Theatre last week. Psychopomp was developed at the Monash University Student Theatre (MUST) last year and had retained its original cast for this remount. Seething is a new short work for voice and body.
Both pieces were written by Penelope Bartlau, the Artistic Director of Barking Spider. Barking Spider was established in 2006 and focusses on creating unique platforms for the sharing and telling of stories. It is a multi-art form company and has presented in museums, galleries, and schools, as well as theatres.
Jason Lehane, the director and designer of the two pieces asked Bartlau to write them after their successful collaboration in 2013 with Bedtime for One. Lehane is a long time member of Barking Spider and is also the Technical Manager at MUST so it is no surprise that Psychopomp was developed and first performed there last year.
The first of the two performances presented was Seething. Unlike traditional theatre where the audience enters the auditorium and takes their stationary seats, in this production we were ushered onto an enclosed mobile seating bank. Rather than just the usual metaphoric journey, we were going to experience a literal one!
Once seated, the front walls closed the audience into a black box of total sensory deprivation. Held in abeyance in that state for just long enough to engender a feeling of uncertainty, we then slowly heard the sounds of lapping water and then the seating bank started to move. There was a slight instability and a natural creak in the structure which, when combined with the sounds of waves and winds, allowed us to feel as if we had been transported to a massive galleon on the high seas Narnia style.
The waves and wind became more violent and turned into a raging (seething?) storm and we were spun around and around for what seemed like forever. Then things stilled. The sound settled and so did we.
We began to hear a poem being spoken and the front wall of the seating opened to reveal a woman (O'Neill) in a room upstage which resembled a sound booth. She was reading a poem on a music stand. The whole set up made me think of a radio studio.
A dancer (Brennan) then entered and took up the open, undefined space between us and the narrator. The dance was almost like that of a puppet having its strings pulled by the spoken words.
Having the two performers in different spaces, yet obviously connected in sense and meaning, emphasized a notion of disconnect between the brain and the body. Lehane apparently wanted the sense of a dream in these pieces and Bartlau has indeed given us nightmares.
Seething is about bodies and our love and hate of them. The voice disconnected from the body highlights the disconnect of our psyches as we let the world tell us how we feel about ourselves rather than allowing us to find what is lovable. Brennan never really finishes any sequence because the repetition and jittery rhythm of the poetry (which is just magnificent and mellifluous) stops her every time. In the end the body runs away and the speaker calmly packs up and leaves. The world has won. The individual has become an unbreechable chasm of cognitive dissonance and self hate.
The doors close once more, but this time we have light for our travels on the high seas. It is a diffuse, hazy light with no distinct source. It was as if we were travelling through a deep mist. The waters were not as violent as before, but there was a lingering sense of danger and uncertainty.
Eventually we came to rest again and the front opened to gently reveal four small boxes just big enough for a human to sit in. The four boxes made one large box and it was similar to watching a split screen broadcast. Now began Psychopomp.
Psychopomp is a Greek word meaning 'guide of the soul'. Psychopomps are creatures whose job it is to escort the recently dead to the afterlife. They do not judge, they merely provide safe passage.
In Psychopomp we met four of these souls who are on their journey. There was an owl (Murray), a horse (Templeton), a pink moth (Greer), and a dog (Cerche).
We didn't really understand what was happening at first. The piece began with the owl who talks about looking after her three chickadees. The design for this character and her world were phenomenal. Murray really did embody the owl in her nest and mastered the physicalities as well as the vocal and rhythmic patterns demanded by Bartlau's superlative writing.
Everything about the owl and her story was just perfectly balanced, performed, and presented. Unfortunately the rest of the cast and design didn't live up to this amazing beginning.
The pink moth (Grear) almost reached the heights of Murray. Once it was clear who she was - and it took a long time to figure it out - the whole show became clear.
The essential thing that all the characters have in common is that they don't understand that they are in transition. They are no longer a part of the story they are telling. They are beginning a new one.
Grear tells her story well and with just the right emotional balance, but she does not embody the moth with the same integrity as Murray. Better lighting would have helped the audience. It washed out the pink in the costume rather than enhancing it. This would have been a helpful clue for us.
For me, the two men were big disappointments. You could not distinguish either of their animals from any aspect of their performances. The only hint was that Templeton wore a headband with horse ears and Cerche sported a bushy beard.
Again, I think lighting could have helped. The dog box needed to reflect more of the fire, and the horse box could have been more shadowy, like the graveyard the text talks about. It is true that all of the answers lay in Bartlau's wonderful writing, but the writing was non-linear and repetitive and not designed to be self-revealing until the last possible moment.
Whilst the design and a more dynamic direction would have helped us, the biggest disappointment lay in the performances. Neither of the men really worked to develop vocal patterns referential to their animals, instead choosing to focus on the literalness of the text and the 'human' journey rather than the disembodiment of their Psychopomp journey. It is sad but true to say that Murray's brilliance did show up the lack in the other performers.
This all sounds very negative, but it really wasn't. Both Psychopomp and Seething are remarkable pieces of writing and the entire experience was sensorial, visceral, exciting, and engaging. I knew that Bartlau was an amazing theatre maker, but I had no idea she was such a brilliant writer.
Both pieces were written by Penelope Bartlau, the Artistic Director of Barking Spider. Barking Spider was established in 2006 and focusses on creating unique platforms for the sharing and telling of stories. It is a multi-art form company and has presented in museums, galleries, and schools, as well as theatres.
Jason Lehane, the director and designer of the two pieces asked Bartlau to write them after their successful collaboration in 2013 with Bedtime for One. Lehane is a long time member of Barking Spider and is also the Technical Manager at MUST so it is no surprise that Psychopomp was developed and first performed there last year.
The first of the two performances presented was Seething. Unlike traditional theatre where the audience enters the auditorium and takes their stationary seats, in this production we were ushered onto an enclosed mobile seating bank. Rather than just the usual metaphoric journey, we were going to experience a literal one!
Once seated, the front walls closed the audience into a black box of total sensory deprivation. Held in abeyance in that state for just long enough to engender a feeling of uncertainty, we then slowly heard the sounds of lapping water and then the seating bank started to move. There was a slight instability and a natural creak in the structure which, when combined with the sounds of waves and winds, allowed us to feel as if we had been transported to a massive galleon on the high seas Narnia style.
The waves and wind became more violent and turned into a raging (seething?) storm and we were spun around and around for what seemed like forever. Then things stilled. The sound settled and so did we.
We began to hear a poem being spoken and the front wall of the seating opened to reveal a woman (O'Neill) in a room upstage which resembled a sound booth. She was reading a poem on a music stand. The whole set up made me think of a radio studio.
A dancer (Brennan) then entered and took up the open, undefined space between us and the narrator. The dance was almost like that of a puppet having its strings pulled by the spoken words.
Having the two performers in different spaces, yet obviously connected in sense and meaning, emphasized a notion of disconnect between the brain and the body. Lehane apparently wanted the sense of a dream in these pieces and Bartlau has indeed given us nightmares.
Seething is about bodies and our love and hate of them. The voice disconnected from the body highlights the disconnect of our psyches as we let the world tell us how we feel about ourselves rather than allowing us to find what is lovable. Brennan never really finishes any sequence because the repetition and jittery rhythm of the poetry (which is just magnificent and mellifluous) stops her every time. In the end the body runs away and the speaker calmly packs up and leaves. The world has won. The individual has become an unbreechable chasm of cognitive dissonance and self hate.
The doors close once more, but this time we have light for our travels on the high seas. It is a diffuse, hazy light with no distinct source. It was as if we were travelling through a deep mist. The waters were not as violent as before, but there was a lingering sense of danger and uncertainty.
Eventually we came to rest again and the front opened to gently reveal four small boxes just big enough for a human to sit in. The four boxes made one large box and it was similar to watching a split screen broadcast. Now began Psychopomp.
Psychopomp is a Greek word meaning 'guide of the soul'. Psychopomps are creatures whose job it is to escort the recently dead to the afterlife. They do not judge, they merely provide safe passage.
In Psychopomp we met four of these souls who are on their journey. There was an owl (Murray), a horse (Templeton), a pink moth (Greer), and a dog (Cerche).
We didn't really understand what was happening at first. The piece began with the owl who talks about looking after her three chickadees. The design for this character and her world were phenomenal. Murray really did embody the owl in her nest and mastered the physicalities as well as the vocal and rhythmic patterns demanded by Bartlau's superlative writing.
Everything about the owl and her story was just perfectly balanced, performed, and presented. Unfortunately the rest of the cast and design didn't live up to this amazing beginning.
The pink moth (Grear) almost reached the heights of Murray. Once it was clear who she was - and it took a long time to figure it out - the whole show became clear.
The essential thing that all the characters have in common is that they don't understand that they are in transition. They are no longer a part of the story they are telling. They are beginning a new one.
Grear tells her story well and with just the right emotional balance, but she does not embody the moth with the same integrity as Murray. Better lighting would have helped the audience. It washed out the pink in the costume rather than enhancing it. This would have been a helpful clue for us.
For me, the two men were big disappointments. You could not distinguish either of their animals from any aspect of their performances. The only hint was that Templeton wore a headband with horse ears and Cerche sported a bushy beard.
Again, I think lighting could have helped. The dog box needed to reflect more of the fire, and the horse box could have been more shadowy, like the graveyard the text talks about. It is true that all of the answers lay in Bartlau's wonderful writing, but the writing was non-linear and repetitive and not designed to be self-revealing until the last possible moment.
Whilst the design and a more dynamic direction would have helped us, the biggest disappointment lay in the performances. Neither of the men really worked to develop vocal patterns referential to their animals, instead choosing to focus on the literalness of the text and the 'human' journey rather than the disembodiment of their Psychopomp journey. It is sad but true to say that Murray's brilliance did show up the lack in the other performers.
This all sounds very negative, but it really wasn't. Both Psychopomp and Seething are remarkable pieces of writing and the entire experience was sensorial, visceral, exciting, and engaging. I knew that Bartlau was an amazing theatre maker, but I had no idea she was such a brilliant writer.
Saturday, 7 March 2015
Thursday, 5 March 2015
Wednesday, 4 March 2015
Tuesday, 3 March 2015
Sunday, 1 March 2015
Saturday, 28 February 2015
Friday, 27 February 2015
Thursday, 26 February 2015
Wednesday, 25 February 2015
Tuesday, 24 February 2015
Monday, 23 February 2015
Friday, 20 February 2015
Thursday, 19 February 2015
Wednesday, 18 February 2015
Sunday, 15 February 2015
Friday, 13 February 2015
Sunday, 8 February 2015
Thursday, 5 February 2015
Wednesday, 4 February 2015
Tuesday, 3 February 2015
Anton and Olaf, A Fruity Fairytale review
What:
Anton & Olaf, A Fruity Fairytale
When:
January 21 – February 1
Where:
La Mama Theatre
Written
and Directed by: Chris Molyneaux
Composed
by: Zenta Schubert
Performed
by: Jack Beeby, Chris Molyneaux, Russ Pirie, Zenta Schubert, and Annabel Warmington
Anton & Olaf, A Fruity
Fairytale has all the ingredients of a brilliant holiday
children’s puppet show. Playing at La
Mama these school holidays, this Fruity
Fairytale is an epic quest of mythic proportions.
The
show has all of the essential elements including feuding princes, a might
sword, a wise old sage, castles, mountains, rivers of silver and gold,
and...cups of tea? There is a story
teller and a bard, and excited children in the audience. How can it go wrong? And yet it does.
Molyneaux
has established the skeleton of a magical story – a tale of valour, endurance,
and wisdom – bet he seems to have forgotten to let the performers in on the
details. Most of the show is improvised
to no special effect.
Improvisation
is an advanced performance skill and even the best at the craft generally
create a strong architecture to work within.
I would have thought that, at the very least, the three great tasks the
Princes must complete would be clear.
Unfortunately, as Anton comments at one point, the Wise Warrior Isabella
(a great puppet, by the way!) “is making this up as she goes along. Hurry up!”
It
takes a half an hour to even begin the premise of the tale. Way to long for children. That first 30 minutes is spent with long,
tedious introductions to the location and the characters. Part of the reason for this is because
Molyneaux includes the children in the finishing of the puppets – giving them
faces. The problem is there is not
enough variety to make this interesting past the first one. An array of fruit to choose for the heads
would be funny. A whole bunch of eyes
and noses to choose from would be funny.
Instead there are two of each and there are only two puppets being made,
so after the first one there is no theatricality left.
Speaking
of theatricality, there is a strangely glaring flaw in this production which
has me completely boggled. Molyneaux is
an experienced designer and has created fabulous mountains and castles out of
cardboard coffee cups and toilet roles, etc – but the whole thing is in
brown! Even the puppets are brown
cardboard. This is a show created for 5
years and up and there is no colour?
Even the mighty sword is not shiny.
This
problem is mildly addressed when the puppeteers show up. Beeby and Pirie are in lovely bright colours
with great hats...but why would you have the puppeteers more interesting than
the puppets?
Schubert,
the show’s bard, plays the accordion at the start and the end of the show, but
no attempt has been made to use music to heighten the emotions in the play,
create sound effects or pick up the pace.
I had this strange sensation that this show was created like an xray,
with everything being the opposite of what it was supposed to be.
The
show is over an hour long and feels longer.
This is not helped by the fact that Warmington has obviously not been
given a script to work from. Anton & Olaf actually has a lot of
potential to be a great show, but right now it just isn’t.
Monday, 2 February 2015
Sunday, 1 February 2015
Wednesday, 28 January 2015
Monday, 26 January 2015
Saturday, 24 January 2015
Friday, 23 January 2015
Wednesday, 21 January 2015
Monday, 19 January 2015
Sunday, 18 January 2015
Saturday, 17 January 2015
Friday, 16 January 2015
Thursday, 15 January 2015
Wednesday, 14 January 2015
Tuesday, 13 January 2015
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)