Home - Caroline Lee

some remarkable things

2010-06-01T13:30:42Z

~ walking to the theatre in Armidale. Along a dirt path. Really dark. Could see the stars. What a great way to get to work.

~ driving to Narrabri, we see white puffy stuff on the side of the road, lots of it, for kilometres and kilometres. We debate in the car: is it cotton or is it wool? Then we debate whether it just fell out of a truck or whether it came from the fields…’cos there was none to be seen in the fields. Finally we stop the car, get out and pick some up. It is cotton…and very fluffy, sort of like a cotton wool ball. And then a few kilometres further on we pass a field, all white…cotton, cotton everywhere.

~ being in Narrabri, where the streets are wide and empty and lead out into the cotton fields and the hills beyond. Quite surprisingly, a lot of people came to the theatre to see the show. They loved it, laughed, sighed, and one sweet lady down the front even spoke to us a few times she was so involved. It was fantastic. We stayed afterwards and spoke to people and there were all sorts of folk there, farmers, workers from a coal mine, students, teachers and others. Not many shows go to Narrabri apparently, and they were very grateful. One man said to me, “Oh I can see us all laughing about this together tomorrow…there were some great jokes!”

~ it is possible to: boil eggs very successfully in a kettle in a motel room; make espresso coffee by turning your iron upside down, wedging it with your towel and placing your little espresso machine upon it; steam vegetables in a sieve on top of your kettle.

~ going on a bush walk up Bald Rock, an amazing granite rock in Tenterfield, apparently the largest exposed granite rock in the Southern Hemisphere. Kind of like Uluru, only grey. Majestic and wonderful. Eating my mandarine, way up there, looking at the carpet of green all around. The only problem was some baby boomer was talking, far too loudly, on his mobile phone about his kitchen renovations. Mamma mia. If looks could kill I’d’ve been in a lot of trouble with the law.

~ the kangaroos featured in the pattern of the lace curtains in my motel room in Glen Innes.

~ how ugly your standard 3 and a half star motel room bedspread really is, and how crap it makes you feel.

~ the joy of arriving in Port Macquarie and being put up in beautiful apartments with kitchens and a pool and a sauna and a spa. Going for a pre-breakfast swim. Cooking up a storm: scrambled eggs on crumpets, coissants with jam, toast and avocado and tomato and basil, poached pears, minestrone. Watching the footy on a comfortable couch with a flat screen tv.

~ the sounds of audiences laughing and laughing and laughing.

~ the entire weekend in Quirindi. Started out inauspiciously with a general gloom about the motel, but there was karaoke, a family barbeque and the privilege of performing at the opening of the newly renovated theatre. The audience were SO EXCITED. They’d been preparing for weeks. They’d cooked up a storm. Many of them had worked very hard to make it all happen. One woman told me about which doors and walls she had painted! It was fabulous. And then they loved the play. They really listened, went on the journey with the characters and laughed and laughed. One man confessed to me that he laughed until he cried. “I had to wipe away the tears before anyone saw them,” he said.

~ and finally, one of my tour highlights so far was Bessie and I being invited out to the house and farm of Doug and Laurice McGilchrist just out of Wallabadah. The drive out there was fantastic, meeting cows and horses along the way. Then when we arrived at the house we walked along a track for a km or so to their “hut” where Doug had lit the fire and set billys on to boil and we had tea and a delicious orange and poppyseed cake which Laurice had made. It was still warm in the middle! Then we climbed into the back of the ute and stood up in the trailer and held on tight while Doug took us on a drive right up high to see a wonderful view of the hills and valleys all around. It was magnificent. Particularly as the sun was just starting to go down. There were all the blues and indigos of the sky and then the gold of the hills, and the grass and then all the different shapes and colours of eucalypts scattered everywhere. We also saw lots more cattle and calves and a mob of about twenty kangaroos. It was a real treat. Another example of wonderful country hospitality.

Sounds of touring

2010-05-11T09:56:17Z

So, we’ve started on the next stage of the tour. The tour de Cosi de Australie. The stage where we don’t get to go back home for a long time. There was certainly a little trepidation in my heart, and I’m sure the hearts of the others, as we set off. We may get to pop back to Melbourne after we perform in Darwin, but, if not, it will be about 11 weeks on the road. Quite an overwhelming prospect. Exciting too, of course!

Luckily our first stop was Echuca, and while the accommodation was nothing much to write home about, it was by no means the worst we have had. Equity (the actors’ union) stipulates that we have to be in minimum three and a half star accommodation, but we are discovering that there is quite a variation of quality in the three and a half star range. So, in the range of three and a half star accommodation, Echuca was about 5/10. The thing that was great about the motel was the location—it was very close to the Murray River and so there were lots of large, beautiful trees around and with them, masses of birds. There were huge flocks of galahs, cockatoos and other birds in the parrot family, as well as magpies, kookaburras and, I’m sure, lots of others. As well as heaps of ducks, ibis and other water birds. At dawn and in the evening the sound of the birds was overwhelming as they all flew around squawking and carrying on, getting settled for the night or getting ready for the day. (Possibly a little bit like us all descending on the motel reception to check in or check out…) The birds really made a racket, but it was a good racket. Also, at various intervals during the day, we heard the sounds of the whistles from the steam boats, which really evoke another era.

As a country town Echuca has a lot to recommend it. They have clearly done a lot to preserve and restore many of the heritage buildings still remaining in the town, and so it is very picturesque and also interesting. The history of the town is quite easy to imagine and access. There were some excellent second-hand bookshops and, close to my heart, some fabulous cafes, foodstores and restaurants. I had a wonderful brunch with my friend Fiona who had travelled up from Melbourne to see the show, and then the next night most of the cast got together and had a great meal at a lovely place called Oscar W’s, which is right on the river in the area of the old wharf. They had an amazing wine list and I had, together with other dishes, a mashed potato which rivalled the pure deliciousness of the mashed potato in Hamilton.

The soundscape continued to be a feature in Wangaratta, where there were beautiful sounds of church bells in the morning and evening, as well as more sounds of birds and also trains. The Wangaratta Performing Arts Centre is new and beautiful and was fantastic to work in, and we had a receptive and lovely audience. I was also thrilled to be able to see a touring exhibition of video art from ACCA, which featured works by Anastasia Klose, Shaun Gladwell, and David Rosetsky amongst others. I spent a very pleasant hour and a half in there.

Wagga Wagga was the next town we visited and it too had sounds of bells, which was great, but also the truly appalling, annoying and extremely irritating sound of a leaf-blower. Is there anyone, apart from the small minority of people who, bedecked with ear-muffs, operate such stupid, energy-inefficient and idiotic contraptions, who thinks they are a good idea? What is wrong, for heavens sake, with a broom? Especially early in the morning? At the Wagga Wagga accommodation, which was quite nice, they felt the need to blow the leaves about not just once, but twice a day. During the afternoon when one might, for example, be wanting to have a nap, and at about 10 am, when one might, for example, be wanting to sleep in. If, for example, one was a performer working at night.

The show went really well though, at Wagga, they managed to sell out a 500-seat theatre and had drinks and nibbles afterwards, which is always a great opportunity for us to meet the locals and get some feedback about the play. I also visited the Wagga Art Glass Gallery, which had some really stunning works in glass. I was excited by all the different techniques that are now used and that a lot of the works are sculptural and also conceptual. The main art gallery was also interesting, in particular an exhibition by Annabel Nowlan, entitled “bugger.” They were beautiful mixed media works, quite monochrome in green, grey and silver, using a lot of tarnished metal, etching, and even fabric. The work dealt with landscape, history, and the experience of rural life.

Then finally, there’s also the sounds of motels/hotels in general. The walls are often quite thin, so you hear the sounds of other people’s televisions, radios, sometimes even their conversations. Not to mention the ubiquitous sounds of other people in bed…which, apart from one snoring neighbour, I have not yet been subject to, for which I give thanks. But there’s also lots of other sounds: sounds of pipes, windows, the creaking of the building, cars, cleaners, air-conditioning. Every place is a new world, it smells new and strange, and sounds new and strange.

It’s all about the sky.

2010-04-22T16:26:42Z

One of the great and rather unexpected delights of this tour so far has been the sky. Particularly when we are driving from place to place, which is when we see a lot of it. It is so big and so beautiful. I don’t know whether it is the time of year, or luck, or just because I live in the city, but almost every time we do a long drive the sky and the clouds have been totally magnificent. We have seen storms approaching, quite a bit of rain, rainbows, sun showers, sunsets and all sorts of wild and amazing cloud formations and the most incredible combinations and shades of blue, indigo, violet, lavender, cream, white, grey, pink, rose, and many many others. It’s been fantastic.

Last week we were in Gippsland: Warrigal, Traralgon, Wonthaggi and Ringwood. One of the highlights was arriving in Wonthaggi at about 11.30am on a balmy Friday and then discovering the beach and a man-altered rock pool at Cape Paterson, which is about 10 mins out of Wonthaggi. We raced back to the motel, grabbed bathers and some lunch and then spent a wonderful couple of hours at the beach, swimming, playing and walking. The landscape is amazing there, quite wild and rugged, with cliffs and almost black rocks, and a steeply shelving beach which the waves pounded on, but there is also a more sheltered bay and the pool, and it was really quite warm, so very easy to while away the warm afternoon there.

It was especially nice for me because I hadn’t particularly enjoyed Traralgon: the motel wasn’t great and I felt a bit stuck, I couldn’t really find a way out of the feeling of a small, and somewhat unprepossessing, town even though I went out and had a swim, which definitely helped. So to get out of the motel early in Wonthaggi and see such beautiful landscape was fabulous. In fact, Wonthaggi, together with Bendigo, is my favourite town we have visited so far. It has a lovely feel to it. Laid back and easy, but also somehow open. I felt like I could live there. I don’t know, of course, if I actually could, but it felt possible, whereas living in Traralgon definitely did not feel possible!

This week, (Mooroopna, Swan Hill, and Benalla so far) we have had a gorgeous drive from Shepparton to Swan Hill, and then the bonus of a hotel up-grade because there was an error in the bookings…(thankyou very much!) We were in the Best Western Resort, which had an indoor and outdoor pool, nice light and clean rooms, a sauna, spa, gym and table tennis table. It was a lot of fun. I also squeezed in a beautiful two hour walk along the banks of the Murray, and saw lots of birds and large, happy trees. The river had SOME water in it, although not heaps because a lot has gone out down the irrigation channels, but that has made everyone very happy! Not so the locusts, which due to the unseasonably warm weather are in large numbers. Apparently this does not bode well for the Spring, because they lay their eggs now, the lie dormant and then spring out in Spring, all springy, and STARVING. They can eat a crop in a day.

Claire, our stage manager, filled my acting week with joy when she sorted out Ruth’s pills into colours (Ruth is my character and at a certain point in the play she distributes medication to the rest of the inmates of the asylum.) They looked so pretty in the pill-box, that Ruth has had a smile on her face all week. (Except when Doug is hassling her of course.)

One last thing I am just loving and really appreciating is the hospitality shown to us by various venues. For the most part the staff at the venues are really helpful, happy to see us, and very welcoming. Sometime there is a coffee/tea/biscuit station set up backstage, often we are offered drinks after the show, and we have even been given a box of Danish biscuits and last night we were given half a box of wine!!! It certainly makes us feel looked after and helps take the edge off the tiring nature of life on the road.

"Cosi" in the suburbs

2010-04-06T06:36:33Z

And so we arrive at the end of the first part of our tour…the suburbs of Melbourne and some. Over the past couple of weeks we have performed in Dandenong, Nunawading, St. Martins (South Yarra), Bendigo, Werribee, Moorabbin and Pakenham. Now we have a blessed break over Easter, and then we resume again, into regional Victoria. It’s like we’ve had a little taste of life on the road and now we have a rest, and then we begin in earnest. It has been fascinating, a bit confronting, and extremely interesting.

First, Dandenong. This was our first public outing of the play. Up until then we had been performing either just to Dennis, the director, or maybe to one or two of the producers. So we did a dress rehearsal in the lovely new Drum Theatre in Dandenong, to an audience of about 25, which was fantastic, they laughed a lot and were very responsive, so we got a TINY feel of what a real audience might feel like. But then the next night, our opening night, also in Dandenong, we had an audience of 550 people. This was astonishing and quite wonderful. I personally hadn’t played to an audience that big since I performed in the Playhouse in 1995, and I think some of the cast had never performed to an audience that size.

The fact that it was a full house was itself surprising given the nature of the place itself. On brief acquaintance Dandenong felt pretty bleak. The architecture was dull and not very pretty, and the main street is a four-lane highway. The barrenness was emphasised by the construction happening all along the main road, which meant it felt like there was NO life in the place, especially after 5pm. During the tech, I went to try and find a newspaper, (I didn’t find one…) to do get the crossword and the quiz, which has rapidly become one of our cast’s group activities. I ended up going into a horrible complex called The Plaza, in which I still couldn’t find a newsagency. I was in costume, Ruth’s bleak, brown clothes and as I walked past these two rather rough boys on of them said, “Oh yeah, I’d really like to FUCK that woman in the brown…” which made me feel quite uneasy and rather awful. I didn’t find a newsagency or a newspaper anywhere but in the end the VERY nice young man behind the bar in the theatre let me take the newspapers from the café, as well as making me a coffee when he really was actually closed. He was lovely. (This was, indeed, in marked contrast to the coffee maker at the café where we rehearsed, who was not a happy chappy. I was glad to see the end of HIM.)

One day I went out by train and Dandenong station is also very bleak. It’s not manned by any staff and the barriers were open for all to get through. It felt like a scary wasteland where it appeared that no-one gave a stuff what was going on. Near the station however is a strip of Indian restaurants and shops selling food and clothing and other imported stuff and I am sorry I didn’t get a chance to try out one of the Indian restaurants. They smelt fabulous. Clearly there is life in Dandenong, and a real interest in the arts, as was evidenced by our audience of 550, and I have heard that a new Aesop store has recently opened there and is going off, but it just wasn’t immediately apparent.

However, contrary to all expectations, the opening night with its full house was AMAZING. The audience LOVED the play, they completely got into it. We found out later that there were about 200 year 11 and 12 students because Cosi is on the school syllabus this year) and the rest were adults. They laughed, they cheered, they sighed, they clapped. The energy and excitement in the theatre was intoxicating, and it was so incredible to be in a theatre with that level of enthusiasm and joy. It was a gift. Denis, the director came back to the dressing rooms after the show and he had tears in his eyes! He said that he hadn’t experienced a night in the theatre like that for a long time, and then Nava, one of the producers came back and said it was like being at a rock concert. They were so excited and so proud. It was fantastic. For us it was wonderful to finally get reactions, and lots of them, to what we were doing on stage, to what we’d been working on for the previous five weeks in rehearsal.

The next few performances were at Nunawading. It felt weird going to new theatre for the first time, especially because we’d been at Dandenong all week and also because we’d had such a great show. But Nunawading turned out to be really lovely. The staff were fabulous and very interested in the show and welcomed us like kings and queens. There were chips, chocolates and tea and coffee and water in the dressing room! And a free drink at the bar afterwards. It was gorgeous hospitality, and made the transition to being on the road a lot easier. Also there was a ballet studio there, backstage of the theatre. It was fabulous to warm up in. The performances at Nunawading went really well, and the audiences seemed very happy. The only one who was not really happy was our cast dog, Jack, who belongs to Claire our stage manager, but who we have all taken to our hearts. He just couldn’t settle. We figured the theatre was probably haunted (as they mostly are) by someone who didn’t like dogs.

Then, at the beginning of the following week, we had our second opening night at St. Martins in South Yarra. Lots of us had friends, family and agents coming. It was a little bit weird at first being there, we were all still getting used to the whole new theatre thing. There is a different shape, space, feel and acoustic in every new theatre, as well as a whole new backstage and dressing room set up and it can be quite disorienting. But this second opening night also went really well. People laughed a lot but also seemed to appreciate the subtleties of the performance and the characters. It was really exciting and the foyer was abuzz afterwards. Then we had a series of matinees at St. Martins. These were great for getting the sense of the difference between performing to a mix of kids and adults and then just kids. My character Ruth, seems to be appreciated more when there is a mix of kids and adults. My final image from St. Martins is from the dressing rooms where the laminate on the bench tops had this groovy 50’s black and white pattern of aborigines.

Next we travelled to Bendigo, where we stayed two nights and did three shows. The first taste of life on the road. We travel in two Tarragos, four of us in each. The set and crew go separately in a big truck. It was really lovely to see trees and hills and grass and sky. And, while the countryside was not luscious, it was quite green in parts and didn’t looked parched. We arrived sometime in the early afternoon and settled into our accommodation which were serviced apartments and very nice. There was a pool! The theatre was really beautiful, a grand building with columns out the front. Apparently it had originally belonged to the Masons. It had been renovated and restored and was really gorgeous. It was painted a beautiful red colour inside. It kind of glowed. There was a lot of backstage space which was a relief, it always makes all the costume changes and backstage business much easier to handle, although I did have a minor disaster with my last quick change. I have to change from my elaborate Cosi Fan Tutte costume into my ordinary Ruth clothes in about one minute. I have Claire to help me but it is still very quick. I have to change clothes AND take off all my makeup. I have these pretty green glistening beads which I wear for my Cosi Fan Tutte costume and which I like to wear on top of Ruth’s ordinary clothes in her final scene because it is a little sign of the changes that are taking place for her on account of having been involved in Cosi Fan Tutte. On the second night in Bendigo as I took my beads off and put them on the floor ready to put on again once I had Ruth’s day clothes on, I heard a weird sound and they had fallen down a little hole in the floor and were nowhere to be seen! Claire and I looked at each other aghast. She opened up the hole…it was a little trap door and there were the beads glinting up at us from about six feet below. No beads for Ruth’s final scene that night! Luckily they were able to rescue them when they did the bump out and apparently Jack the dog enjoyed wearing them for a few hours!

We were also treated to wonderful hospitality in Bendigo. After the first show (in which we got our first standing ovation!) we were invited to have drinks at a little café/bar next to the theatre called the Basement, which was really lovely, then the following afternoon, following the matinee, we had an excellent lunch at a place down the road from the theatre called Wine Bank. We went back there after the evening show because it had a great atmosphere, nice feed, great wine, good coffee and lovely people.

Bendigo is a very beautiful town. There is a lot of gorgeous period architecture and also some really fantastic contemporary buildings, like the Bendigo Bank building (BNV Architecture and Gray Puksand) and the new police station. There is a fabulous art gallery, a contemporary art gallery and even the swimming pool had a beautiful aspect and was fabulous to swim in. I think this really affects one’s state of mind and being. I felt really comfortable and happy there, excited about what we would find next.

And as it happened what we found next was brilliant. Jacob Allen, one of the actors in the show, has a wine wholesaling business and so he contacted one of his mates and thus the next day, on our way from Bendigo to Werribee, we stopped off at Bress Winery in Heathcote and were treated to a hilarious and very informative tour of the winery and the wine (in all stages of preparation) by the head Winemaker and Proprietor, Adam Marks. The wine was fabulous but Adam was even more fabulous, very funny, a real raconteur and an excellent host. So, a couple of hours later, with lots of sips of wine in our bellies and bottles in the car boots, we continued the trip down to Werribee.

How could the Werribee mall measure up? It didn’t. And things in general felt a bit bleak for a few hours, even in the theatre, which was really cold and barren in a sort of new, institutional way. Fortunately we had a reasonably large and very appreciative audience, and the added bonus of having finished a long week and being able to go home to our own beds for a couple of days rest.

Then we went to Moorabbin. It was crazy. We squeezed our set (minus a good couple of feet either side and from the front of the playing space!) and ourselves (masses of costumes, props and actors) into a tiny theatre, which sat about 97 people. It felt like a living room compared to what we’d been performing in. We had to spend a solid hour and a half in the theatre working out new blocking to accommodate the new space, which was not only smaller, but also a bit wider. But it was all worth it. The audience was packed, mainly with adults, and it went off, they loved it. I actually really enjoyed being able to be small and quiet for once, not having to really project, and knowing that all the detailed work would be seen by all the audience. Also Denis Moore, our director, came to see the show for the last time. It was great to get his feedback after a week or so of being on our own. Now it feels right for us to embark on the next part of this crazy journey.

Our last show before Easter was in Pakenham. It was a long drive, felt far away from the city, and indeed is quite a beautiful place, nestled at the southern end of the Dandenongs. The theatre was new and rather lovely, a great design, and had lots of backstage space, which was fantastic. The show, although not packed, went well, but we had our first backstage drama. During the show, towards the end, Bessie Holland, who plays Cherry, tripped over as she was exiting and fell very heavily down the prompt side stairs. She was very shaken and badly hurt her hand, wrist, and shoulder. There was lots of adrenalin and a small amount of chaos backstage, we were all shocked and worried, but she was fabulous, as were Claire and Jacob Williams, our backstage crew, who helped her and steadied her. She was able to make it through to the end of the show but then had to be taken to casualty. It wasn’t a great end to the week, but at least it was then the Easter break. Hopefully we will all have rested and recovered and be ready to continue with our crazy Cosi.

rehearsing "Cosi"

2010-03-08T22:17:29Z

I love rehearsing.

One way of considering the process of rehearsal is that it is about moving the written work from the page to the stage. Naturally the process will be very different depending on what sort of piece it is, and the people involved.

For me, a performer, the work starts even before rehearsal, when you research the piece, the writer, and the ideas. This is a wonderful time, liberating and opening the mind and the imagination about the world of the piece, filling in the gaps, finding the back story of your character, and it is amazing how much of this early thinking and dreaming finds its way into the finished work. This work is kind of like the cushion on which the work floats, on which all of the creative work is supported. There was a wonderful interview with Yvonne Kenny on Classic fm recently in which, amongst other things, she spoke of the work she does to prepare a character, and how pleasurable this process can be. She is very eloquent, and obviously still very excited by her work. It’s an inspiring interview.

So I am in the midst of rehearsing “Cosi” by Louis Nowra. My preparation has included reading other plays by Louis Nowra; two autobiographies; some essays by him; which were collected in a book called “Chihuahua’s, Women and Me,” which is a great read; seeing the film version of “Cosi”; watching a film version of “Cosi Fan Tutte” by Mozart, listening to the opera “Cosi Fan Tutte” by Mozart and studying the libretto; reading about Obsessive Compulsive Disorder; watching films about psychiatric institutions; reading about psychiatric institutions; speaking to specialists; reading about the Vietnam War; and then other bits and pieces relevant to the world of the play and the world of my character. It’s been fascinating and fun, as usual.

This process of reading and researching continues throughout the formal rehearsal period, which is when we “get on the floor”, that is, start rehearsing on our feet in a rehearsal room, finding the physicality of our characters, building the inner life of the characters, and discovering and learning the “blocking”, which is where the characters move on the set. It’s a combination of discussion, and work on our feet, trying things out, finding things, rejecting them…sort of like assembling a jigsaw puzzle, both individually and collectively. In this case we have the incredible luxury of five weeks full time rehearsal. This is because “Cosi” is a fairly substantial play, around two hours long, and there are 11 characters being played by 8 actors. It’s an ensemble piece, which means that for a lot of the time many, if not all, of us are on stage together, which requires a lot of careful orchestration. Also it is a comedy, so there is comedic business and quite a lot of props. All in all, a big piece.

We are just starting week five and are in a great place, having done our first full run though of the whole play at the end of last week “off the book”, (that is with lines learnt), and with most props, costumes, costume changes and set changes. Therefore this week, week five, we’ll do one or two runs each day, and some detailed work on any scenes or sections which feel sticky or aren’t working properly either internally or externally. At the beginning of next week, production week, we’ll transfer from the rehearsal room to the theatre, and will place all our work into the real set, and lights and sound will be added.

We play in a few different theatres around Melbourne and then the whole shebang gets loaded into a truck and we make our way throughout Victoria and then to Tasmania, New South Wales, Queensland, Northern Territory and Western Australia!

It’s been wonderful so far, and is just about to get even more interesting…

playing in nyc (two)

2009-11-08T03:49:42Z

Highlight 1: DIA Beacon: we went out of Manhattan on a train which runs along the Hudson. Even the train trip was beautiful because you are travelling right along the edge of the water and all you can see is this vast, beautiful water and then a large escarpment on the far side, hills, really, covered in trees starting to turn with the Autumn. Then you walk to the gallery from the station. The gallery, which opened to the public in 2003, occupies a former box-printing facility built in 1929 and it has “240,000 square feet of exhibition space illuminated by natural light.” Yes, it is huge, and also incredibly beautiful. So much money, vision and energy have gone into it. Artist Robert Irwin has designed the gardens which surround the gallery, and they too are amazing. Then, there is the art! I was particularly transported and delighted by the works by Richard Serra, in particular one absolutely enormous room, (the former railway depot for the building) in which four of Serra’s massive torqued steel ellipses are on display. There is also a wonderful collection of sculptures by Louise Bourgeoise, including one of her spiders, which are on display in a slightly secluded “attic” space lit only by natural light. These works, and the experience of them in the space, were completely compelling. I also particularly enjoyed the constructions made from string by the artist Fred Sandback, whose work I have not seen before. They were wonderful, and ideal for the vastness of the space. The whole project is utterly magnificent, and is a classic example of the truly amazing energy, drive and commitment of many Americans in relation to art and culture.

Highlight 2: Two home-cooked meals: the first at our friend Maria Porter’s house. She and her gorgeous family invited us to come out to their place in upstate New York and have a meal, so four of us caught the train up there…again, along the gorgeous Hudson, and then we went for a walk in a park, something like Hampstead Heath in feel, donated to the county by the Rockefeller family, and then we had a delicious meal and provocative dinner-table conversation. Another night Jacob and Sarah had us all around to their apartment and we had a feast with the centrepieces being roasted vegies and mind-blowingly good ice-cream.

Now to other important discoveries: Eating: taim falafel and smoothie bar, 222 Waverly place at 7th avenue. The best falafels I think I have ever eaten. The anyway bar, E 2nd, between 2nd and 3rd avenues. They make their own vodka infusions and the lychee martini rivals the lychee martini at double happiness in Melbourne. They also make amazing wild mushroom pelmeni. Rice, a wonderful restaurant at the top of Elizabeth st. near Bleeker. Excellent, fresh, healthy food and many varieties of delicious rice to eat it with.

Shopping: Muji, Unico, Strand books

Architecture: well, just everything really, but particularly the old tenement buildings in the Lower East, the New Museum on Bowery, the old bank building on Bowery, the lofts and cobbles in Soho, the Rockefeller building.

Walking: the utter pleasure of walking everywhere.

Curiosities: Bottom-enhancing undies.

playing in nyc (one)

2009-11-04T05:48:04Z

So yes, late on the Wednesday afternoon, as we were doing the technical rehearsal for the show, (the show was opening the next night, Thursday) a critical piece of the set broke. It was one of the hinges of the mirror. At first I was not deeply concerned because this bit had broken before and had been able to be fixed, but as time went on it seemed clear that it was broken and it was quite seriously broken, and that if it was not fixed then we were in trouble. (The play is set on a dressing table, and during the course of the play we put the mirror of the dressing table in place and then we turn the mirror on its hinges, quite furiously, and then in the last part of the play the mirror needs to be held in place so the audience gets images of us in the mirror.) Sarah phoned the wonderful Eduardo, who had helped us out already with a new string for Rhoda, my puppet, whose leg string had broken, and he came into the theatre to see what he could do. He suggested glueing the piece together, or, failing that, we could weld it on the weekend when his friend could do it for us. So Sarah got the glue and glued the hinge and set it to dry overnight.

The next morning we got into the theatre at about 11am. We had an appointment with the photographer at 12noon, to do a dress rehearsal of the play and for him to take photographs. But the glue had not worked and the set was still broken and we could not proceed. Not only could we not proceed but if it does not get fixed we will not be able to actually do the play on opening night. Panic, worry, upset…not hysteria…but certainly fear. It’s New York! Eduardo came over again to help and he got La Mama’s head technician, Mark, into the theatre to help us. Mark listened, looked, thought, and took the parts away, saying he thinks he’ll be able to do something. The photographer came at 12, there was still no set, so we couldn’t do the dress rehearsal, but he took some photos. THEN at about 1pm, Mark came back, and just like that the mirror was all fixed! And what did he fix it with? Bolts that hold the toilet seat to the toilet! Apparently he had looked at the hinge and had thought…I know this, this is reminding me of something…I have seen this…and then he went to the hardware shop and that’s what they were!

So, at last it was fixed, everything was ready and at 5pm we did a dress rehearsal of the play. We had a little rest, and then, we opened. The opening night performance went well. The audience was very appreciative and very supportive and afterwards we got some very lovely feedback. Puppets are so magical…if it is working they really transport the audience, and that is what seemed to happen…the audience were delighted and amused and then taken by surprise…so much stuff comes out of the dresser. The world of the play is transformed from a delicate, controlled, formal space into a wild, chaotic, messy space. And the audience, every night, is coming on that journey with us. We’ve done four shows now and they’ve all been different, of course, but in each the play works and the audience comes for the ride. It is satisfying and really, really fun.

aqp in nyc

2009-10-31T04:36:15Z

Of course you know it’s all about the food. (And the culture, and the idiom, and the shopping.) Especially in production week, when we are working frantically to get our production of A Quarreling Pair ready for its New York debut. And let me tell you we have eaten very, very well. I mean we are staying in the East Village (4th St. between 2nd and Bowery)…the perfect place to eat well. So, on the first night our hosts here from the New York La MaMa, Denise and Federico, took us to a fabulous restaurant called The Organic Grill on First Avenue, between 5th and 6th. I had this grilled tofu sandwich thing, which was delicious. It had been pouring with rain since the moment we’d got off the plane, but that didn’t deter us…in fact it was probably a perfect antidote to the stale air we had been breathing for the previous thirty hours in transit. (Although I must just add here that we flew Qantas and were MIRACULOUSLY upgraded to Premium Economy seats on the Sydney/Los Angeles leg of the flight…the thirteen hour bit…and it made a huge difference and was so comfortable and amazing!)

The next day was Sunday, which was a recovery day so we went to the Wholefoods market on East Houston and bought lots of supplies ready for breakfasts and lunches for the week ahead when we would be spending pretty much all day in the theatre. We wandered through a gorgeous neighbourhood garden which has been lovingly constructed on a narrow site perched on East Houston. But once you’re inside you’d never know it was on a busy road…it was magic. Then Denise and Federico met us and took us to have coffee at Think Coffee on Bowery, just around the corner from the theatre. The coffee was great and it is a lovely place. (I went back there early one morning and took shelter while I waited for the day to warm up and wake up. I had risen early to call home and when I returned to my building found the front door blocked by a bike, some gear and two bodies wrapped tightly and cosily in their blankets…I had used another door to get out but couldn’t get back in that way…it was early and cold and I really couldn’t bear to disturb them so took myself round the corner to Think Coffee. I had a toasted raisin bagel and an excellent latte which the barista drew a Halloween pumpkin face on…pretty cool!)

That afternoon we saw the puppet show which preceded us at La MaMa in this mini festival of puppetry we are part of. It was an interpretation of Women of Troy, which had been intertwined with stories of inspiring contemporary women activists. I found it quite problematic, mainly because I didn’t really understand why they had chosen to tell this story with puppets and not with actors, and then also because I didn’t feel the interweaving of the stories was very skilful or did any of the stories much justice…even though they remained very interesting stories in themselves. Nonetheless is was great to get a sense of La MaMa and the context in which we were going to be working. That night we ate minestrone which I cooked on one hot plate upstairs in our little kitchen, then went to see a band play in Brooklyn at a cool space with pools of water called Galapagos.

On Monday we started work in our theatre, which is the first floor theatre at La MaMa. I’m pretty sure it is the original theatre although they now have a number of other spaces. We met Jack, our tech and lighting operator, and Mark, who is the head technician, and started work putting up lights, patching them and doing a rough focus.

The set of A Quarreling Pair consists of a dressing table with a mirror and side mirrors, a stool, and a bramble which hovers over everything like a cloud of twisted thoughts. Jacob Williams, who is the partner of Sarah Kriegler, the other performer in the play, has done an utterly amazing job of reconstructing the set, exactly like the original, except in a form that can be totally dismantled and packed into a suitcase. I know!! We carried the whole set and the props with us in our luggage! The bramble, however, does not fit into a suitcase…and could have presented difficulties with customs, so we had a frame for the bramble, but not the actual bramble. So while the lights were being rigged Cynthia Troup, one of the writers of A Quarreling Pair, and Margaret Cameron, the director, went on a hunt for materials to make a bramble…and after a lot of effort and a run-in with a New York cabbie who threatened Cynthia with the police, discovered the flower district and a lovely wholesale florist and some willow and this twisty stuff called walking stick which Sarah then made into a beautiful bramble. I can’t really remember what I did but I’m sure I was useful.

That evening David Young, the Artistic Director of Aphids (the company producing the show) arrived from Melbourne, and so we met up with some other friends and supporters of Aphids who happen to be in New York, Eugene Schlusser and Margaret Leggatt, and Ian Britain, and we all went off to John’s Restaurant on East 12th St. and had a fabulous old school Italian meal. The waiter was wonderful and so was the food. I ate a kind of home-made cannelloni-type dish filled with the softest, most delicate ricotta in the world, and topped with sweet mozzarella and napoli…oh it was heavenly. After that we all needed to walk, so even though it was after 11pm we set off looking for gelati, but the shop was closed so we ended up at Café Gitane in Mott St. and had a bottle of Sauternes and some Lillet. Quote of the day from the waiter at John’s who wasn't able to remember something, “I’m spacing the name of it.”

On Tuesday and Wednesday we continued to plot lights and sound and started to run the play. (All this still suffering from jet lag…please see previous post for an example of my state of mind.) Amongst this we managed another visit to The Organic Grill, a couple of samplings of pierogi (the East Village has a Polish thing going on...as well as everything else), a fantastic vegan meal at Angelika on East 12th and, at 7pm, a very interesting and thought-provoking piece of theatre entitled Idiot Savant, directed by Richard Foreman of the Ontological-Hysteric Theatre Company, and featuring Willem Defoe in the title role. I’ll probably write more about Idiot Savant later. It was the first piece of Richard Foreman’s I have seen and I really enjoyed it, unlike some other members of the audience. Quote of the day from another woman in the audience, “Well I was having a great night until 7 o’clock.”

Then came Thursday, yesterday, the day A Quarreling Pair made its debut in New York City. It went really well…but the full story will have to wait…

jed(i)-lag

2009-10-27T03:02:58Z

g’night she had hands like a duck bridges were everywhere, they stretched in all directions it was hot then it was cold then it was raining it was spring and then it was autumn I am trying to get downtown not uptown a man hassles me on the subway upside down I don’t need help I say please I don’t need help! it’s a dream it’s new york it’s jetlag it’s so hot it is not permitted to make minestrone the fire department will come great big rats will come we are not allowed to drink the demons will come it’s halloween.

They could get me in my brand spanking new Martha Graham sheets that would be Stewart Martha Stewart sheets we got our breakfast option in premium economy although the people in row 36 didn’t there was room to look out the window and sleep I dream of minestrone take a right just up there on the left man! oh miss, I mean miss he had eyes like a ferret forty different types of yoghurt and easy cheese no mess no fuss no fire department.

In my dream I am suffocating or was it merely snoring it’s really hot in here we see a band with pheramones definitely one of the best theremin players in the world Pamela x ray that pig nothing to see except a baby hole and a patched ear puppetry can be dodgy the world over look it’s not really a puppet play more a piece of theatre with puppets? oh it's another day some coffeee and some bagels and some minestrone later it's a jedi-day. g’day.

transit

2009-08-20T19:07:56Z

Highlights, images and thoughts from Transit VI. (this list is necessarily subjective and also not entirely representative, because there were some excellent things which I missed out on seeing; either due to us arriving in the middle of the festival, jet-lag, being completely overloaded, preparing for our performance or a combination of all four!)

~ the tour around Odin Theatre with Ana Woolf. Odin (I think this is right) began in the mid 60s with one primary building in which there is the White Room, a foyer, a room full of videos of Odin's work and the work of other interesting theatre practitioners, a kitchen, a music room, a workshop and a series of bedrooms upstairs. And then other wings and building were added as needed: two more large workshop/theatre spaces, the Black and Red rooms; more kitchens, bedrooms, laundry, library, storage etc. etc. Everywhere we went and looked there were posters, theatrical artefacts, masks of all descriptions, photographs, books, models of sets. It is a vast, rich, full world. There were even apple trees, plum trees and roses. Just wonderous.

~ the snow show, '79 Fjord by Teatret Om, from Denmark. It was our first night. We had arrived in Holstebro at about 6.30pm after that crazy drive with Liz and LLoyd, put our bags down, eaten a bit of dinner and then were bustled into a huge igloo shaped theatre space in which Teatret Om performed this really interesting (and apparently quite famous in those parts) story of the Danish Expedition to north-east Greenland in 1907. The story was told with great humour, using masks, puppets, shadow work and lots of movement. It was evocative and interesting and the masks were fabulous. I'm pretty sure they were made by Deborah Hunt, who is a really terrific puppeteer and puppet-maker and teacher who was there at Transit.

~ indeed another highlight was a showing of a workshop which some of the participants did with Deborah and Parvarthy Baul, (Parvarthy's own show Bengali Women in Baul Songs, which was songs acompanied by her playing ...was also fantastic. She transported me into a gentle, playful, spiritual, timeless world of 'stories from the village.' ) The workshop showing involved members of the group each doing a short demonstration of their puppet in its world, then a song, then the puppets dancing to the song, and then finally a beautiful sequence where all the members of the group had different bits of one puppet on long sticks and at a certain point all the parts came together and made the one puppet, so you had ten or so people all concentrating on the creation of this one little creature. The concentration, dedication and intensity was mesmerising. There is something so compelling about good puppeteering... I think it is partly this quality of deep, devoted attention, and also that the puppeteer is transformed, they have left themselves (and their ego) behind. As it happens here in London I have just seen a wonderful show called War Horse which is a National Theatre production, and it tells the story of the First World War from the perspective of a horse. Each horse was puppeteered by up to three puppeteers, and it is remarkable work. This quite unexpected contact with puppets and puppeteering has been really serendipitous because now I feel even more inspired and excited about the upcoming adventure of taking A Quarelling Pair to New York.

~ the journey through the forest and the heathland to the sea. We were all transported, about 80 of us, in two buses to the edge of the woods. Commanded and controlled by an over-abundance of instructions we went on an over-long walk stopping now and again to see another episode in Teatro Natura's show Danzo Danzo. The work wasn't really my thing, and there were a number of other rather problematic issues, but the opportunity to walk through all that fabulous nature was brilliant. .

~ talking and meeting various actors, performers, directors, academics and teachers. Sharing ideas, asking questions, getting a sense of what people are doing out there in other parts of the world.

~ being confronted with the issue of getting old in art. This thinking was with me before I left Melbourne and indeed was really provoked by seeing two films in the Melbourne Film Festival: a documentary about Louise Bougeoise and also a recent film by Agnes Varda about Agnes Varda called The Beachjes of Agnes, which is a really great piece of work. So, I have been thinking about what it means to get old in your art, how does it manifest? Particularly for women artists, whose work is so often on a perifery. What are the difficulties of this age and what are the advantages? It seems to me that issues of handing on knowledge and experience were very potent at Transit, as well as the need to keep oneself available, alive and, most importantly, in the present. This is crucial. If the body stagnates and the connection of the body to the world goes stale, then the work, too, fades.

~ doing one of the morning trainings with Cristina Castrillo. Cristina is a very interesting teacher and performer. It was great to do the training, to work and move in a room with others and to consider the notion of being ready, like a cat, for anything...to do and receive whatever may happen.

~ getting out one morning and having a run along some of the fabulous bike paths which they have even in a small town like Holstebro. It had rained during the night but was a sunny morning and everything glistened and gleamed and there were vibrant greens everywhere...including a poor, sweet, green frog which lay still on the path as I jogged past.

~ an adaptation of hansel and gretel, called h.g. byTrickster Teatro of Switzerland. A very elaborate and wonderfully handled installation into which we entered one by one. Scary, beautiful, great soundscape.

~ the work of a company called Fase 3 from Brazil, who are working with older women performers.

~ a piece directed by Jill Greenhalgh called The Acts-Vigia which was a totally beautiful choreographed work with no language about the incidence of young women being brutalised and often murdered near the Mexican border. I loved this piece.

~ bumping in and re-making and performing Care Instructions. More to say here, but basically it was an incredibly stressful and difficult day, but with the help of two marvellous technicians, Hans and Angelo, we made our laundry, our world of washing, and then performed and could make the piece sing. It was hard, but very satisfying.

So much fabulous stuff, so much food for thought and discussion and work. So many connections. I feel very fortunate and grateful to have been a part of it, to have had this intense, incredible experience.

new worlds

2009-08-14T16:05:24Z

Up very early in the morning to grab my place at a dinosaur computer. I am at Transit VI with Aphids and Care Instructions. (The touring party of Care Instructions is Margaret Cameron: Director, Cynthia Troup: Writer, Jane Bayly, Liz Jones, Caroline Lee: Performers.) Transit VI is an international festival and conference which is a product of the Magdalena Project, and has been curated and organised by Julia Varley. The theme is Women - On The Periphery. It is being held at the Odin Theatre in Holstebro in Denmark and it is truly incredible.

Cynthia, Jane and I arrived in Denmark early on Monday morning after the 29 hour journey from Melbourne. I did something I've never done before and had a massage at Bangkok airport which was totally wonderful, not the least because I had to take off my tired plane clothes and get into some clean pajamas and lie on a bed IN A HORIZONTAL POSITION. And then came the massage...It was so great and I returned to the next leg of the flight feeling much more prepared for it. We got a taxi to our hotel and spent the rest of the day walking the streets of Copenhagen. The furniture and homewares were amazing, as were some of the clothes. We also went to an area of the city area called Christiania which was completely fascinating. It was originally some kind of abandoned military land and was taken over by hippies and students in the 70s and they lived there and built new houses and vegetable gardens and there is a market there and all sorts of different areas, and they lived there for years. A few years ago the government tried to force them out but were unsuccessful and so now they are still there and it is really wild. It's large, and free and chaotic and beautiful and there were signs everywhere saying not to take photos and people just hanging out and drinking and then round the next corner people drumming and round the next corner someone doing their laundry. Bikes everywhere. It was extraordinary to find such a place in the middle of ordered, clean, quiet Copenhagen.

On Tuesday, after a second breakfast of coffee and cake from the organic bakery down the road, we drove to Holstebro with Liz and Lloyd (Liz's husband) who had arrived in Copenhagen the night before. It was an eventful and hilarious journey, with a few wrong turns and a few scary moments negotiating the verge of the road and the correct side of the road. We arrived in Holstebro safe and sound about 6.30pm with sore stomachs and glad hearts. And then the real madness began.

Every day there is breakfast from 8 to 9am. Then there is a training with a different person every day, from 9 to 10am. Then from 10.30 to lunch there are one or two demonstrations of work and lectures. After lunch the performances begin. Usually two or three before dinner and two after dinner. In between there are other shorter performances running concurrently that you fit in around these times. Also there are chores to fit in everyday, which is great because it means that it is very clean here and also there is a great sense of working collectively, even on that level.

So there has, already, been the most intense, wonderful, incredible amount of input and ideas and thoughts and contact and dialogue. I will write more detail about this, probably next week, but in brief it feels like a great privilege to be here in this world, both the world of the Odin Theatre, which is steeped in the most incredible theatrical history, knowledge and experience, and the world of the Magdalena Project. It is a wonderful world and I am delighted and inspired to have discovered it and be floating in it for this brief moment.

Today we prepare to perform Care Instructions in this world. Luckily we can take most of the day in the theatre...and so we shall see what we can make and what will happen. I hope, and it seems possible, that we can re-form the work and perform it in a way that will speak to this wonderful collection of minds and hearts.

Dry clean only. Do not wash, wring, spin or tumble dry. Ha ha ha ha ha!!!

care instructions

2009-07-20T15:55:04Z

Just about to start the last week of performances of Care Instructions at the Malthouse. It is Monday, our day off. I love having Mondays off, they feel luxurious and slightly wicked. The play has been going well. For the most part I think audiences are really enjoying it, even those who don't quite find their way in to the music of the piece. As far as reviews go there was a lovely one in The Australian by Alison Croggon which can also be found in her wonderful blog Theatre Notes. Chris Boyd gave us an unenthusiastic review in The Herald-Sun. I am certainly having a good time performing it, finding delight in the detail, making discoveries in the text or the image, being truly alive in the moment as much as possible, trying to be generous, open-hearted, courageous.

It is surprising how tiring it is. Although not really. We had just one week to re-rehearse, where many decisions were tested and re-tested, discussed, argued, worried over. That was tough work. Then we had the week where we prepared for opening night, added lights, sound, music and audience, and continued to test and re-test and question and try to perfect the rhythm and the music and the form. Not to mention the performance of the form. Last week was slightly easier, we became more settled, more confident, more relaxed in the form and the piece started to sing. I should have been able to relax but instead also worked three shifts at the bakery. Hard, and not so smart. By last night I was exhausted and pretty wrung out.

Have not been good for much today, did a few errands and some washing and have been lying around lazily for much of the afternoon reading The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini which is a wonderful book and is making me cry. There are many more errands to be done, jobs around the house and garden, as well as admin, but I am trying to remember that resting is important and helpful. The garlic will wait, the pansies and the peas, the little piles of dust and the dishes.

Gentle handwash. Do not soak, wring, bleach or tumble dry. Carefully spread out in winter sunshine to recover.

"What you did was wrong, Amir jan, but do not forget that you were a boy when it happened. A troubled little boy. You were too hard on yourself then, and you still are—I saw it in your eyes in Peshawar. But I hope you will heed this: Aman who has no conscience, no goodness, does not suffer." The Kite Runner, p.276

lovely wet and cold days

2009-06-10T11:42:07Z

Let us be clear, I am a true Melbournian. I keep an eye on the weather, I look up the weather and dam levels on the internet, I don't really like it when it's too hot and especially if I'm not near water, I love to talk about the weather, I delight in the weather. And I am so delighted with the weather in the last few days. It's incredibly beautiful, for one. Very dramatic. Lots of Turner-esque visuals to delight the eyes. And then there's the rain!!! As for the cold, it is so brutal that it changes things and I like that too. Can't actually do the garden, even though I want to because it's too wet and totally freezing. Perfect weather for reading, writing, dancing, knitting, cooking, eating and yoga.

Perfect time too for researching, contemplating, and gathering, which is what I realised (in a breakthrough moment last week) I am doing right now in relation to my latest project, tentatively entitled Behind Every Good Man. Pretty much all year I've been giving myself a hard time about this. My inner tormentor has been castigating me at every turn..."What! haven't you written anything yet? Is that all you've written? Stop wasting time! Call yourself a writer/artist/interesting person? Ha! Come on, time's running out!" But finally I remembered that both of the other major projects I have created since I got back from drama school, the three interiors of Lola Strong and my novel, Stripped, have each taken me about five or six years to make. This was a great relief. Now I can give myself permission to take my time and do my work. Write, read, think, contemplate, brood.

The other reason I was applying panic and pressure to myself is that I've known for a while that I will be very busy in the second half of this year, and so I won't have much extra time for my own work. But that all feels okay now and actually, ironically, the easing of pressure allows for more productivity and a calmness about finding space and time in amongst all the bustle.

So what is the bustle?

Care Instructions, which I performed in at the end of last year, produced by Aphids, has been picked up by the Malthouse and will be in in the Tower Theatre from July 7th-26th. Then Care Instructions is touring to the Transit VI festival in Denmark in August. TRANSIT is an international theatre festival and meeting organised at Odin Teatret, Holstebro, Denmark, directed by Julia Varley, one of the founders of The Magdalena Project, a network of women in contemporary theatre that has existed since 1986. The theme of this year's festival is Theatre—Women—On The Periphery so this should be a provocative and very stimulating event, which we are very proud and excited to be attending.

Then A Quarelling Pair, the puppet show for adults, also produced by Aphids, which we've performed a number of times in Melbourne and on tour, has been invited to do a season at New York's La MaMa theatre as part of a puppet festival, which we are also totally thrilled about, not just because it's an amazing opportunity to travel to and perform in New York, but also because the Jane Bowles puppet play A Quarelling Pair, which is part of our triptych of plays of the same name and indeed was the inspiration for the whole project, premiered in New York at an incredible bohemian night club called Miss Spivy's. Also, our production premiered at the Melbourne La Mama. It is a fabulous and fascinating set of connections.

When I get home, I will immediately embark on rehearsals for The Flood, a beautiful Australian Gothic play written by Jackie Smith, of Finucane and Smith, famous for their incredible cabaret and burlesque shows. The Flood will be performed at La Mama (Carlton!) in December this year.

In the meantime I lovingly look at the sky and listen to the rain, read about politics and psychology and think about idealism and murder.

autumn

2009-03-12T21:33:12Z

A lot of people say that autumn is their favourite time of year in Melbourne, and indeed it is often really beautiful, with the temperature becoming more manageable, rain softening the sky and the earth, and soft, long evenings in which the sky glows a deep, intense blue. This year, after our dramatic and apocalyptic hot days and the trauma of terrible bushfires, the gentle calmness of autumn has been even more wonderful.

Autumn often also signals the beginning of more concentrated work. The work year has of course well and truly started, but as the weather cools down it is almost as if concentration intensifies, and one settles down to the really important work of the year.

And lately that has been writing. I had an end of February deadline to rework the central section of my novel, which I did and it was very satisfying, and next I am going to try and bash out a rough first draft of a new work by sometime in June, which may be a one-woman show, about idealism in politics. I also recently recorded (as a talking book) The Reformed Vampire Support Group by Catherine Jinks, which is a fantastic young adult novel describing the unglamorous and very humorous side of being a reformed vampire and the adventures and misadventures of their group. It’s a really great read.

As far as performing is concerned I am making some brief and small cameo/guest appearances in The Salon De Dance by Moira Finucane and Jackie Smith, which opened last night at La Mama…not quite sure exactly when, but they will be some time in the next two weeks. Yes, I shall be dancing. The next definite things I have on (although who knows what will come up in the interim) are a return season of Care Instructions at the Malthouse in the first three weeks of July, a possible tour of Care Instructions to Denmark, a tour of A Quarelling Pair to La MaMa in New York in November (oh boy oh boy oh boy!) and then a performance of The Flood with Finucane and Smith in December. So yes, a busy second half of the year.

In the meantime, I am trying to enjoy my relative leisure: writing, catching up with friends, swimming, going to the theatre, reading lots of books, getting on top of admin, playing in the garden, (where my eggplants are looking amazing) and having fun with Connie, my new and adorable Burmese cat. Yes, she is the cutest and most adorable cat in the world; yes, she is incredibly intelligent; yes, she is perfect; yes, she is hilarious; yes, she has changed my life.

As Garry says in Small Metal Objects, “Pets bring out the love in people.”

bogan pride etc.

2008-10-03T18:44:37Z

Oh it’s already the start of October (birthday month of many loved ones and Melbourne Festival time…sweeeeet…) and lots has been happening.

On Monday 6th, on SBS at 9pm, Bogan Pride starts screening. Bogan Pride is a comedy musical (!) television series written by and starring Rebel Wilson. Rebel, Tony Ayres and Michael McMahon produced, it was directed by Peter Templeman and the DOP was Brent Crockett. Tony Bartuccio choreographed the dance sequences. They were an amazing and wonderful team. Rebel plays Jennie Cragg, a bogan whose mother has got so fat she can’t extract herself out of her recliner-rocker, meaning that Jennie needs to find $10,000 for her mother’s stomach stapling operation. I play Erin La Mont, who is the (slightly demonic) leader of a Christian girls youth group and thus, together with my assistant Gaylene, the spiritual guide of Jennie and her two bf’s Amy-Lee Lee and Nigella.

It was a fantastic piece to work on, the main cast got on really well, I loved the opportunity to play in a comedy and also really loved the singing and the dancing (because there are two musical numbers in every episode…) Tony Bartuccio was just fantastic to work with. We had a screening at ACMI last week of the first two episodes, which was quite nerve-wracking and intense: seeing yourself for the first time, up on a big screen, with about 500 other people…but it seemed to go well…people laughed a lot and said some lovely things afterwards…notwithstanding the fact that those comments were accompanied by liberal doses of champagne. So it goes to air publicly this coming Monday, and then I guess I’ll find out what everyone else thinks…unfortunately probably without the champagne.

Also, in case you missed this lovely bit of news, my novel, Stripped, is being published in parts in the literary journal Meanjin, which has also been very exciting and nerve-wracking. Sophie Cunningham has taken over the editorship of Meanjin and is doing a brilliant job of re-invigorating it, both in terms of form and content. My novel starts with the prologue, entitled The End, which is published in Volume 67, no. 2, June 2008; and the next part, which covers something like the next three chapters, is in Volume 67, no. 3, September 2008; and the next part is due to come out in December. It is possible to subscribe to Meanjin, so then you get each new instalment of my novel, together with lots of really wonderful other writing, delivered to you…and it’s also cheaper that way! And it’s also in lots of libraries.

Finally, I’m just about to start rehearsing a beautiful play called Care Instructions, which will be on at the Courthouse in Carlton, Nov. 19-29. The play is a “post-Beckettian tour-de-force set in a laundromat. Who remembers the thirteenth godmother from Sleeping Beauty: the uninvited guest by whose curse the princess fell asleep for a hundred years? Now she washes, waiting for her chance to ‘make another better wish.’ Care Instructions wrings every drop of polyphony from the scripted language; Marguerite Duras meets Gertrude Stein on a perfect drying day.” It’s written by Cynthia Troup, directed by Margaret Cameron and is performed by Liz Jones, Jane Bayley and myself. I can’t wait.

a watery week

2008-07-23T21:03:51Z

So yes, did the guest role in Satisfaction, which was a great experience, and I got to work with some fabulous people, although it was pretty gruelling emotionally...it took me a few days to fully recover my equilibrium after the long day, a good couple of hours of which were spent sobbing in character.

I've also been recording (onto talking book) a wonderful young adult title called Mahtab's Story by Libby Gleeson, which tells the story of a young Afghani girl and her family fleeing Afghanistan and making the long, long journey to Australia. It made me cry when I read it at home, and in the studio.

And then I saw Mamma Mia; it was great, but Meryl Streep is absolutely AMAZING! She was fabulous all the way through, had so much depth and yet lightness at the same time, and never got flippant or dismissive. And then she sang 'The Winner Takes it All,' oh my god...it was incredible. She wrang those words out her soul, with bitterness and love and tenderness and regret. I was a very wet wreck. She's always been an inspiration to me, one of a handful of high profile actors who I admired and aspired to emulate from an early age...and I still do. What a woman!

Finally there has been definite progress on my novel, Stripped. After a few months of concentrated effort, and quite a lot of angst (the novel is about death, after all...and sex...but mostly death)I gave Sophie Cunningham, the editor of Meanjin, a completed draft of the entire novel and that felt pretty satisfying and quite significant. Just to hold the whole printed manuscript in my hand was much more of a buzz than I had expected. There is of course more work to be done, but the end is near and it is great to imagine that story, which I began in 2002 (I think) being completed and out of my head. Space for new things...wow...

Oh and one more thing. I finally planted the quince tree, guerrilla gardening style, in the nature strip directly over the road from my front door. I've had the quince tree for about a month, but had to plan my strategy quite carefully, gathering all the correct equipment...stakes, council-style ties to stake the tree, council-style mulch (taken from a convenient pile just down the road,) a new bag of dirt, compost, seaweed emulsion, tacks, scissors, hammer and instructions from the Gardening Australia website. Finally everything was collected. A friend had cancelled a coffee date with me, so then I had the perfect lazy mid-morning opportunity. I'd also planned the outfit, being a true actress, and so donned my boiler suit (a full set of overalls) so as to look innocuously council-like (although the bright red french gardening shoes just might have been a giveaway...as is my propensity to run when happy...a group of serious-looking workers spied me as I was running back to the garden to collect something I'd forgotten and made comments about jogging and exercise...NOT very council-like on-the-job activities...) I hastily carried all equipment to the site, dug the hole, planted our beautiful, public fruit tree, and then watered it in well. Just water though, no tears.

somewhere else, close to home

2008-06-27T18:19:37Z

A couple of days ago I went, for the first time, to Central City Studios for a rehearsal and wardrobe call for a guest role in a television series which I’m doing in a few weeks. These film and television studios are in Docklands and, as if the name Central City Studios wasn’t glamorous and other-sounding enough, the location is incredible. Almost as soon as I passed under the railway lines which divide the old city from the new, and passed by Telstra Dome, I felt like I was in an new and unknown place. It was exciting. I drove through a landscape of high-rise buildings, palm trees, trams and asphalt, all of it encircled by the Bolte Bridge.

Once security let me in to the site, I could see there were a number of huge buildings, kind of like aeroplane hangars, and these are the studios. As I wandered around, trying to work out where I was going, I caught various different and beautiful angles of the in-construction Melbourne Eye. Don’t know if anyone will ever go on it, but it is an oddly humanising element amongst all the industria. So was the sight of a lone bicyclist, riding along the bike path down there next to the water, hundreds of cars and trucks roaring through the sky behind him.

There must have been a film shot there very recently which was set in a forest, because I kept coming across skips filled with tree trunks, large stumps lying against the buildings, and lots of branches everywhere. And so much activity! Trucks and cranes and all sorts of equipment coming and going, it was fabulous.

Found where I was going eventually and spoke to wardrobe and then rehearsed the scene with the other actor, the director and the line producer. We had nearly two hours and when we were done I felt like I knew the scene, what was going to happen and also had established a bit of rapport with the director and the other actor. That was great because the scene involves a kiss, amongst other things, and obviously that level of intimacy can be awkward with a stranger!

Then today we had a read-through of the whole episode with most of the cast, and so I got to drive down there and see that beautiful foreign landscape all over again. Today I really wished I’d thought to take my camera. And who knows when I’ll see it again, because the scene is being shot on location, not at the studios. The read-through was fun, partly because there’s a number of people I’ve worked with before in the cast, so it was great to catch up with them, and also because people laughed at our scenes but also found them moving. Which is how they're meant to be. It's great writing.

Returned home after a detour via Prahran for a casting for a commercial, and had a brief rest on the couch in the afternoon sun, feeling like I’d come back from a quick little trip to somewhere else.

seed(ling)s

2008-05-26T06:45:59Z

This week I planted an apple tree in my garden. It is a wonderful apple tree which has two different sorts of apples grafted onto the one tree, a greeny/yellow apple and a red one. This will join the white nectarine I already have growing. I also planted a blood plum tree, a clematis and some bulbs: irises, tulips and freesias. I have always wanted to have my own little orchard, but was further inspired by a website www.fallenfruit.org It’s a start, and I have my eye on the nature strip over the road from me. The fruit trees will flower in the Spring and will produce fruit in Summer. The bulbs will flower in the Spring.

In the mail, I received a copy of the latest Meanjin (a literary journal), in which the prologue of my novel has been printed. I was proud. I am working hard on the novel and it may be that more of it will be published, either in Meanjin or elsewhere.

I finished work on a television series and also recording a talking book, The Forgotten Garden, by Kate Morton (I had previously recorded Kate’s first book The Shifting Fog) both of which were very satisfying projects. Met some new and wonderful people and had a lot of fun.

Right now, here in Melbourne on a sunny day, everything is fresh and clear, the leaves have turned and are falling, there is more space. Nature is becoming dormant (the work situation not so much) but there are lots of lovely things brewing, bubbling away, settling in the ground. I love this time of year, it can be a bit melancholy, but it’s beautiful and full of promise.

if you need someone to pour your gravy

2008-03-21T08:12:27Z

I love my job.

During the last two days I have been shooting an ad, for television, and it has been exhausting and challenging, but also lots of fun. After both days of shooting I got home feeling really satisfied about having done a good day's work. This may sound strange, for after all it was an ad, but what happened was a really strong sense of working together with a team of great people, all of whom are very skilled at their jobs, creating a tiny gem which tells a story in words and pictures. I think I was lucky, because this ad was probably more atmospheric, moody and perhaps film-like than a lot of other ads, and the director, Glendyn Ivin, and his producer Jane Liscombe were fantastic (and indeed are now going on to work on Glendyn's first feature.)

Making an ad presents a lot of challenges for everyone concerned, this is primarily because it is expensive and so there's a lot of pressure to get everything right in a very short time. This ad was for a product related to the kitchen and cooking and the story and style of the ad was that it was a documentary, and so they were filming me but the film crew were present behind the camera. The first day's shooting was of me and the second day's shooting was of the product.

So, during the first day we told the story of Stephanie in her house and in her kitchen, all revolving around the product. At the start of the day, 7.30 am, there were still a couple of unresolved issues about the character's clothing. As you can imagine issues about the look of an ad are always critical. The slightly tricky thing is that there is constant negotiation, on set, for the duration of the shoot, between the client, who is representing the product; the agency, who is the intermediary between the client and the creative team; and the producer and director. In this instance that was about seven or eight people, all of whom had an opinion. So this negotiation began with the outfit, on which finally a compromise was reached, and kept happening, particularly on the more complex shots. So we would do maybe 17 or 18 takes of a shot, or I think even once we did 21, to satisfy everyone's concerns. It was quite gruelling and required a great deal of concentration and stamina and calm. But the thing was we absolutely got there in the end, got the shots we wanted and they wanted, and also had some fun and kept buoyant, and that's what made it satisfying.

The second day was easier in a way, because I was only being a hand which poured gravy on food, and so it required no acting. However it held its own challenges. The selection of me to do this job was arbitrary really, because if they had needed a very beautiful hand they would have used a hand model, but they didn't and so offered the work to me. The crazy thing was that it turned out that in fact I was very good at this job, which entailed pouring gravy in a very, very specific manner onto different types of food. It was extremely nerve-wracking, as again it was a collaborative affair (where exactly the gravy had to fall, how it had to fall etc etc), and also because there were a limited amount of dishes of food available, and if I had messed it up too many times it could have been terrible: expensive, time-consuming and very tense.

It went like this: I had to pour at the correct speed (each gravy being a bit different) beginning from an exact point between the potatoes and the end of the meat (for example) and then follow the line of the steak or the curve of the chicken legs, just allowing a sexy dollop to fall between the two legs of chicken (!) and then finishing up at the end with another dollop, but not too big and not too small and then place the packet down in the exact same spot every time with no drip and no wobble and keeping everything in frame and at the right angle. While it was silent and twenty people were watching. Again huge concentration required, nerves of steel and a pedantic and precise character (which fortunately I have.) And again, it was pretty satisfying. Not as much fun as the day before, but still surprisingly fine.

So there we are: more good acting experience, working with some lovely people and the discovery of a new skill; if you need someone to pour your gravy you know where to find me.

home

2008-02-10T06:17:24Z

As it happened, the weather was very beautiful on my last morning in Vancouver. It had kept snowing through the night, so again I had that wonderful thing where I woke up and the world was highlighted with white. It felt really special, like a final glimpse of the gorgeousness of the northern winter before returning to the other side of the world. The sky cleared early and as we walked to the bus stop the sun was shining and everything was gleaming and crisp. There were glorious views of the mountains to the north (including Grouse Mountain) which were peeking above low-lying mist and cloud.

All the mornings activities went pretty much to plan, although I was very teary after saying goodbye to Sarah, and I found myself happily checked in and ready at Vancouver airport with plenty of time to spare. There was even time for a few phone calls, including one to Mum and Dad, which was very lovely, as I hadn't spoken to them for ages. As the flight took off there was a great view of Vancouver Island, the Gulf Islands, the Inside Passage up towards Alaska, and all the other little islands down the coast.

Los Angeles airport, LAX, was its usual purgatorial self. It is just horrible, isn't it? Huge, confusing, unkempt and not particularly safe. Unlike major airports in Asia, for example. So at LAX, as is often the case, we were confined to a tiny section of the airport with fairly primitive facilities and opportunities for retail amusement. We're talking one tiny combined sandwich/coffee/snack/bar shop thing, one newsagent and one tiny duty free outlet. To make matters worse they are actually in the process of "upgrading" the little section from which the Qantas flight was departing, so there were patches of bare concrete, lots of hanging cables and it was cold and badly lit. And I had five hours there.

Fortunately I was reasonably prepared and so settled down in a quiet spot with a cup of truly disgusting sweet syrupy stuff, which was had never come even close to being the vanilla cappuccino it was supposed to be, and absorbed myself in learning lines and the oh-so-boring-but-oh-so-appropriate job of organising, sorting and trashing emails.

The fifteen hour trip from Los Angeles to Melbourne was as fine as these long trips in economy class can be, although the subsequent queuing at customs, waiting for bags and then the long, long wait to declare the tea in my suitcase nearly pushed me over the edge. I kept having to remind myself to breathe.

However when I finally got through and was walking towards the glass doors to the taxi rank and the outside world, I suddenly got a whiff of air from outside and it totally overwhelmed me...it smelt so deeply familiar: sweet and summery and clean and light and open. It was really unexpected, but I totally knew I was home.

So the plan now is to settle back in Melbourne for a while, enjoying being at home while also holding on to the happiness and calmness of the trip, and see what happens. I'm juggling a few options for work right now, and within the next few weeks should know better what the shape of the next six months will be. I probably won't write this blog so frequently, much as I have loved it; rather I am going to try to use the morning writing time routine, which has solidified while I've been away, to work on other writing projects which need my energy. It has been a great delight though, writing it, and lots of my pleasure comes from the knowledge that there's a bunch of people who have been reading it regularly and enjoying it. Thank you, and we shall speak again soon.