Drama Tuesday - Cyrano

Cyrano

Black Swan State Theatre Company presenting the Melbourne Theatre Company production for The Perth Festival. 

So many things to say about this version of Cyrano by Virginia Gay with a free hand on the original by Edmond Rostand. It is a stunning production. Successful on so many levels and loved by the Saturday afternoon audience.

Broken proscenium within proscenium 

The most immediate impression is the setting that we saw as we entered the theatre. Inside the wooden proscenium of the Heath Ledger, sits a seedy  theatre stage with traditional exposed brick back wall, scatter of props, a ghost light glowing. But one edge of the proscenium is broken, a literal breaking of the fourth wall. We see both the stage, with shell foot lights but at the same time, it is as if we are seeing the inner workings of theatre. 

This is a wonderful physical metaphor for what is described as a “love letter to theatre”. What is the “act” on stage? What is “real life”? And holding it all together is a dazzling array of words. This is very much a reminder that we are seeing  the play within the play.

Rostand’s play is, above all a river of words, of witty dialogue spoken at a scintillating pace. In “updating” or “adapting” the play for contemporary times, Gay has maintained the flow and force of words. There is true wit in the use of language. Cleverness. 

There’s a wonderful 3D visualisation at the MTC web site: https://www.mtc.com.au/discover-more/mtc-now/cyrano-set-design-virtual-tour/

 Role reversal

The heart of this interpretation is that Cyrano is a woman and her passionate love interest is Roxanne. As in the original, Cyrano provides the honeyed words for Roxanne’s suitor (here called Yan and played with swagger by Joel Jackson – a Pilbara God), and, as  in the original, her words sway Roxanne. But, in a step away from the original, Cyrano wins the heart of Roxanne. In the original, it is only years after, that Roxanne recognises that Cyrano was the true love.

In these more gender fluid times, there are different points being made about the nature of love denied. The portrayal of the vainglorious Yan is cutting. 

Not a prosthetic nose in sight 

So often, the preoccupation of audiences is the quality and effect of the prosthetic nose adopted for the production. It is after all, the defining feature of how others see Cyrano. 

So it is interesting that there is no attempt – beyond words – to endow Virginia Gay’s Cyrano with a physical prosthetic nose. 

We are invited to believe that her nose is legendary. Again, we are reminded that theatre is about the “willing suspension of disbelief” rather than the physical actuality. We are again reminded how distorting can be an obsession with “realism” (ironic when so much of realism in film and television is CGI).

What sets Cyrano apart is not the physical but the emotional and imagined impact of self and identity.

There are also enough theatrical surprises – steam bursts, light streaming through opening windows high on the stage wall, bursting explosions of streamers cascading on audiences.

Why do we keep telling the old stories

There is a poignant moment when Cyrano asks this question. It is also one that seems to be the through line question of this version. 

Why do we keep telling these old stories? What are the “new” stories? 

The chorus – 1/2/3

The blend of theatre types to flesh out the cast – the theatrical flourish ham/the wide eyed ingenue/the clichéd ennui – provides a clever backdrop to the action played out by the three main roles. 

In all there is a neat efficiency to the way the writing unfolds the action. 

Virtuoso Performance 

Cyrano is that peak of lead roles. Virginia Gay gives a stellar performance. Importantly though, the strong ensemble carries and supports the star. 

A most malleable and forgiving text

I found myself thinking through with this performance of Cyrano echoes of the original text. Open to interpretation and reinterpretation, the text is rich in language and ideas. 

This version jumped about in the sequence and played with us as audience. I did wonder a couple of times if you had to know the original (or versions of the original) to keep up with the dance being played in this version. 

There have certainly been plenty of other versions. I could hear the resonances.

Cyrano in Context

In a different century with students from Armadale SHS John Foreman Liz and I crafted  our own version of this malleable material. Cast as a 60s teen drama with appropriated pop songs, the material worked for 80s kids. Our Cyrano had a rougher texture. We liberally played with text but also stayed faithful to the shape. Particularly satisfying was the use of the Don McLean song “America Pie” to bridge to the final scene when Roxanne realised Cyrano’s role in her wooing. The poignant themes of the day the music died worked well for us and our actors and audiences. 

I still see value in working with this text and young people. The romantic conceits resonate with adolescence and there are opportunities to play with language and theatricality. I would love to see this latest version published and made available for study in schools. It is accessible and fun. 

Drama Tuesday - Barracking for the Umpire

Black Swan State Theatre Company, Subiaco Theatre Centre 

It’s great to see Black Swan supporting new local writing. It’s wonderful to be back in the neglected Subiaco Theatre Centre. It’s important that the often unspoken issue of lingering impact of football injuries is aired with local resonance and heart. Recognisable characters in familiar settings. And, it’s funny. Genuinely funny. Audience erupting into laughter funny.   

The exposed brick, arches and vertical blinds set is on song. Like much of this production there is attention to detail. We begin with the twilight world of Doug (Steve Le Marquand), former footbal great for Donnybrook as his lifetime achievement is about to be celebrated , bringing about a family reunion. Footballer son, Ben (Ian Wilkes), journalist daughter, Mena (Ebony McGuire), and the daughter who stayed home, Charlene (Jo Morris). Holding it all together is Delveen (Pippa Grandison) holding to herself the secret of Doug’s condition (CTE Chronic Traumatic Encephalopathy). There is a strong trajectory for characters glued together by the toxic masculinity exhortations of the Coach (Joel Jackson) who magically appears from behind the exposed brick bar. Rounding out the cast is Charlene’s former husband, football tragic, (Michael Abercrombie). 

Images from program: https://blackswantheatre.com.au/assets/documents/BarrackingForTheUmpire-Program.pdf 

At one level, these “typical” Ocker names signal the comic chops of the play (a nod to Kath and Kim). But the play deftly navigates the journey from sit com to seriousness. The underlying violence of a culture is sharply focused. There is a thread of the Coach’s jaw clenched punching through the pain in Australian society that is deeper than football. It stains politics, work culture, relationships, broken dreams and families. Look beyond the fast and glib jokes. 

Interesting to see Black Swan performing at Subi. A warm and enfolding theatre space with a sense of human scale. I also noticed that unlike so many, maybe all, other plays in Perth over the last few years, the actors were not miked. Black Swan’s move out of the Heath Ledger and embrace of other venues such as the Octagon and The Mag, is worth watching as a trend.

The writing is confident and sure, though perhaps a couple of awkward moments that a film version would handle better. The jump cut generation may find the short “blue outs” and prop setting interruptions to the flow. In a couple of places – the long monologues and Delveen’s speech to the Toastmasters for Bunbury – it felt more like standup in flow and pace. A couple of curious lighting state choices, too, where the action downstage – the airport pick up and Del’s speech – seemed to have the main set in full light. I get the transition from the sitcom lighting (pioneered in the 1950’s by the I Love Lucy series) to the more subtle domestic lighting as the impact of Doug’s condition becomes apparent. Perhaps the lighting has yet to settle. 

A new writer to encourage. Well grounded characters. Firmly directed. Familiar and warmly explored territory. Relevance. Funny. 

What more can you ask for a good night at the theatre!

Drama Tuesday - The Tempest in contemporary times

A circular strand of white sand fills the stage when you enter the Octagon Theatre for the Black Swan State Theatre Company production of The Tempest (directed by Matt Edgerton). The familiar thrust stage has been expanded and reshaped. A crescent moon pit is slashed into the sand.

Cast members meet and greet the audience as they enter. They are skilfully collecting items from the audience to provide the props for the play – a jacket is borrowed to be Prospero’s magic cloak; a book for Prospero’s library; jewellery to be Miranda’s treasure (carefully buried in the sand; from the start the mood of audience participation is built.

The action starts with the audience invited to join the sea shanties being sung. An invitation taken up with gusto.

The strength of this production is in the ensemble.

The welcome to country is shared on the voices of the cast. A cohesive ensemble of actors and audience is reinforced as the audience are invited to join the cast in breathing deeply - a ritual three times – signalling the start of the play.  

From Teacher support notes

The action pitches immediately into the storm on board the ship cast into the storm by Prospero’s magic incantation. Immediately the strength of the ensemble work is evident with a skilfully evoked creation of the ship and the bodies in turmoil. Fluid, disciplined and powerful images created. Beautiful and strong. Set the action at a cracking pace. The whole production runs at just over 100 minutes without interval.

Into the exposition scenes – so much back story – handled with efficiency. Always a challenge but again the ensemble successfully created images using bodies to support. The level of ensemble was sustained throughout.

The other design element introduced from this point was the continual drizzling of sand from above the action, a fine thin drifting caught in the light beam – a metaphoric hour glass reminding us of the play’s themes.

The lighting of the production deserves special mention. It added significantly yet subtly to the unfolding action and shifting moods including the threatening and fantastical. It complemented the  neutral and sand coloured costuming adding to the sense of “found” objects. 

The music is created live (mostly) throughout the production incorporating the skills of the ensemble – the composer (Pavan Kumar Hari) playing a range of instruments - as well as a lithe Ariel – joined by Didge, tapping stick and haunting clarinet played by cast members. The vocal work was mostly strong and clear but there were some concerns. The strong vocal training shown by most of the cast needed to be evenly evident for all. Perhaps the super chilled theatre air conditioning was also playing havoc on some.

In tune with contemporary times, there was diversity in the casting. There are also gender/name changes. 

Seeing The Tempest again (it is such a familiar and memorable text for me) reminded me of some key points. Successful productions of The Tempest t hinge not so much on the plot – which is cartoon-esque. It relies on recognising the emotions at play. What drives Prospero must be a sense of anger and bitterness that shifts to forgiveness. The play must begin with his sense of outrage and pain driving him to fury the storm on his political opponents, to hold Ariel as captive, to imprison Miranda in ignorance, to punish and humiliate Callan so cruelly. His journey must show the recognition that anger is an insufficient emotional response. Forgiveness is necessary.

The handling of the always difficult opening of the fourth act – the Masque – is interesting and innovative. The cast sit and watch projected a series of vignettes from audience members in the foyer before the show (presumably they will be fresh each performance). There were loud guffaws from audience members as some are recognised, perhaps to the point that we lost what was being said. This inclusion of audience is not surprising – it is a hallmark of Black Swan under Artistic Director Clare Watson. It will be interesting to see how this innovation works for the rest of the season. There is an issue for me about this: the purpose of the Masque in the text is to signal the significant shift in Prospero’s attitude. He shows that he can find compassion for Miranda and Frederick and the cruelty of his punishing them. That, in turn, leads to his later forgiveness of those who plotted against him and landed him on this island. It extends to his freeing of Ariel.

For me The Tempest must hinge on the character journeys of each and we must sense the shifts in Prospero most of all. The triangular relationships between Miranda, Frederick and Caliban also need to be evident. Caliban is more than a threat to Miranda, he is a rival to Frederick. The insecurities of political life and intrigue – echoed in the comic characters – also need to be more than plot devices. The bed of vipers or politics need to be evil under the cloaks of civility. There needs to be productive tension and sense of threat underpinning the comedy of the drunkards plotting with Caliban. They could unhinge Prospero’s magic.

This is a production that drama teachers – and their students – should see. It is a wonderful example of ensemble. It presents interesting design, music and movement opportunities that should inspire. It is successful and enjoyable. It can bring our students into the under used Octagon theatre and remind them of the challenges of space and design. 

The other point of note, is that this production was staged by Black Swan following an invitation to audiences to nominate which Shakespearean play would conclude the season. It is a fitting and interesting choice in these times when there is so much clamour about “rigged elections”. 

The Teacher Support Notes for the production are again wonderful and useful.

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https://www.uwa.edu.au/theatres/-/media/University-Theatres/Docs/Octagon-Theatre/Octagon-Theatre-information-pack.pdf 

Postscript

With a little flutter of the heart I recognise that it is 50 years since The Octagon was opened and around that amount of time since I was a student sitting in first year lectures in this space. The passing parade of lecturers –two sessions early and late – are somehow etched into the walls (though the seats have been renovated from the utilitarian hard padded benches. 

We watched in fascination as the floor of the stage creaked as Dorothy Hewett paced her lectures (while her partner Merv Lilly sat in the back row as a grim reminder to any would-be interjections). Dorothy always put on a good show – opening her Ibsen lecture with the actress Pat Skevington emerging from the wings with pistol.

The history of how a University on this side of the world in what is still sometimes called the most isolated capital city int he world, came to have a theatre designed by the famous Tyrone Guthrie is often told. There was a time when the University of Western Australia was ground breaking for drama and theatre education. It should not be forgotten that The New Fortune Theatre which sits inside the courtyard of the Arts Building is a full-scale replica of the Fortune Theatre from London. 

In all there are five full theatre venues on this campus: The Octagon, The New Fortune, The Dolphin, the Sunken Garden, Winthrop Hall (not forgetting The Somerville now used for Festival Films but originally for performances). What drama courses are taught at UWA in 2021? What has been lost in the world of the contemporary academy? Too much. 

The Octagon is still a warm and inviting performance space, vastly under-utilised for purpose.

York - evoking our shared past.

Held over from the COVID-19 cancelled Black Swan season, York finally is on stage at the State Theatre Centre.

https://bsstc.com.au/learn/resources 

The curtain rises on a monumental multi-level set in weathered and faded greys rising in layers from the stage floor. 

A tree changer couple are moving into the old building – the reputedly haunted former Hospital in the rural town of York over the escarpment from Perth. As one of the partners is left alone to unpack, the house starts to assert a ghostly presence on her life. Flickering lights and power surges. Ghostly  aboriginal child wandering through the space. 

Scene changes to 1985 and the arrival of a troop of scouts led by whistle blasting mums (fond of sitting on the verandah with cask wine after the kids are sent to their dorm for the night to tell scary stories and scare the younger ones. This part of the play draws on memes of jolly good fun Enid Blyton adventure stories from a childhood in another century morphing into RL Styne Goosebumps story for another. The characters are larger than life caricatures, played for comic effect, evoking generations of campfire stories to scare the whatsits from children. 

My son Ben, born 1992, reminded me of his Year 4 camp to  the Old Hospital and the scary stories shared after lights out. A rich source of collective Western Australian memory. The people behind me in interval reminisced about being in the scouts and the Gang Show. 

There was plenty of deft stage trickery and work for the Stage Crew with faulty electricity. Radios crackling to life. Jugs that fly off the bench. Ghost-like figures materialising then disappearing. Lighting effects. Sound effects. Short scenes, more reminiscent perhaps of a film script (you can see the likely film slated already). A StageManger’s nightmare or dream!

Act 2 moves further back in time to when the hospital housed returned soldiers suffering flashbacks to WW1 trenches and the story of the Matron who, against police as policies of the times, treated gave aid to an aboriginal child suffering the Influenza pandemic. Neat touch for these pandemic times. The Matron is, of course, the ghostly figure from Act 1. The demise of the Matron was somewhat arbitrary and I felt that the storyline truncated. The straight line plotting from Point A to Point B is unashamedly obvious.

The next part goes to the days of first settlement, when early settlers and First Nations people come into contact. Initial feelings of fear and distrust, early attempts to build relationships, senseless killings and retribution. The eventual hunting of the fugitive. This section is played on the apron of the stage in front of the set. The actors stand arrayed narrating directly to the audience. When you think about it, this is consistent with Nyoongar traditions of Yarning and storytelling (but I couldn’t help think it was straight from the playbook of R.S. Breen, Chamber Theatre and Northwestern, with a dash of Brecht thrown in.) This story of first contact and disillusionment lies at the heart of the sadness driving this play. Told with simplicity and a moving lack of sentimentality, the darker history of place and culture are brought into focus.  

Through this section, I wished that some stage magic had been invoked and the looming presence of the set been softened in someway. Perhaps a scrim or lighting effect. At the end of the section, there was a sense of relief when with sound and projected imagery, the set was flooded with images of ghost gums. This use of imagery earlier would have been a stronger way of suggesting how the building imposed on the land cannot overpower the potency of the land itself. The land is ever present. This could have been usefully strengthened in all the previous scenes. It would have softened the suggested reality of a filmic approach with an appropriate theatricality.

The play calls forth stories of boodja (country or land in Nyoongar language). In one sense there is recognition that the house and the land have a timelessness – they are not in one time but in all times. The past is present in the land. All experiences of the land are palimpsest of what has gone before - faded images drawn over what happened before. 

 Every act before sends a shockwave through the land, like ripples in a river of time, and it shakes the buildings where we live and shifts the earth on which we stand. Irene, Act

 Recently I’ve been revisiting some writing from 1992 and re-working it (for my own enjoyment, nothing more). A line from what I wrote then still resonates with me is that time is not an arrow. In this play, the sense of a straight line connection – ghostly Matron to living Matron, for example – feels a little bit obvious as if the writers don’t trust the audience to get it. The layers of the play are clearly stratified, perhaps a little too obviously. The final section of the play gives some  feel for that multi layering of time, returning to the opening couple and the reminder of another deaths in custody incident – the open wound of an unresolved history of settlement and reconciliation.

A strong production which will resonate with Western Australian audiences that reinforces the power of theatre to put our contemporary lives into perspective.

A side conversation to be had about the title York. It feels a little prosaic. Accurate geographically, true. Like so many places in colonial Western Australia, the names of other places are superimposed on country with no regard for the long imprint of time. A title with more sense of multi-layered ambiguity would work better for me.

Interesting that this is announced as a co production of Black Swan and WAYTCO. I am not sure what the connection is – could the younger characters be played by youth actors. That is not to say that the likeable performers don’t successfully sketch in the younger ones. This could have been an opportunity to bring together generations. (Though those of us in the long game will note that Ben Mortley was himself a member of LYT/WAYTCO a while back). It would be great to see this play included for study by drama and history students. 

The Black Swan Resources for this production are outstanding. 

https://bsstc.com.au/learn/resources 

Black Swan State Theatre Company - The Cherry Orchard

 It’s wonderful to see Black Swan return to site specific productions in iconic Western Australian landmarks. The production of The Cherry Orchard at Sunset joins the fondly remembered production of The Mysteries in and around the University of Western Australia. And, the production of Tourmaline at PICA with a young Marcus Graham on a hot sweaty Festival of Perth night. 

This Cherry Orchard production starts in the main hall (remember a Troupe touring show in there). In Act 2 we move to the breezy outlook overlooking the Swan River at sunset (artfully evoked in the lighting)  After interval with Russian food from a van and iced vodka cocktails, we are at a party in the courtyard. The final act moves into the hall where the seats are now draped with dust sheets and there are a few packing boxes (with a final melancholic reveal of Firs to top the show). 

The decaying ambiance of Sunset evokes the sense of decadent decline of the family. The flaking paint and rusted roofing iron are successful in foregrounding that melancholic Chekhov ennui. In particular, the final act with the bare vast open space of the hall finally managed to give me a sense of loss that I didn’t find in the first act. 

There’s a whole thesis to be written about translating the location and time period of classic plays. At one level, all contemporary productions are transformational, reinterpreting texts for present day audiences. And we can’t forget that we are always working with Chekhov in translation – language and culture. In the first act, the overlay of Chekhov to Manimup in the 1980s seemed forced. The deliberately Kitsch fluffy bedspreads and electric fluoro outfits, the overt hints about sex, drugs and rock and roll and the music, seemed a little calculated and obviously signalled. The first act seemed cluttered. By contrast the sparseness of the final act, resonated  more. Less is more. 

Adaptations and translations are always an irresistible lure for directors. (Having inflicted on audiences a 1960’s Cyrano I can admit the fascination!). It will be interesting to see how audiences react to this adaptation. On opening night I overheard younger audience members enthusiastic about it as they left. 

One of the memorable lessons of visiting Disneyland and seeing how they stage arena outdoor productions is the skill in directing our attention in the moment to moment focus. No matter where the next action or scene was to take place, the audience was directed by action, music, sound and lighting. You knew instinctively where to look, anticipated for you by the direction. More could have been made of that skill in this production. 

The hard working cast handled the spaces well and carried off the fashion crimes of the times. They often had huge spaces to cover with entrances and exits. The hybrid language – sometimes awkwardly caught between Aussie vernacular and Chekhov – was managed though sometimes it grated. Also the improvised scenes (playing with the Casiotone while the audience joined the BBQ outdoors, for example) sit awkwardly alongside the “text”. There needs to be a fine balance between the tone of the original text and modern interpolations. 

In the end, none of the characters were truly likeable – and that bothered me. The familiar bumbling comic work of Sam Longley was sustained throughout. The “victory” speech in Act 3 by the nouveau rich Lopakhin, strongly delivered by Ben Mortley, worked hard to convey a judgement on the hopeless decadence and myopia of the landowner family. The final act farewells finally managed to draw out of me some sense of their loss.  

The use of music to establish mood, time and place was a nostalgia trip for some of the audience. There’s skill in the choices made by directors and how those choices progress characterisation and plot development. Couple of times, particularly in the party scene, the music felt like it padded the action (I know in Chekhov, we are frequently waiting for action through inaction, but sometimes, it felt like truly nothing was happening). Music does more than summon up nostalgia.   

Curiously, in Act 1, the actors were miked but not in Acts 3 and 4. I can understand why it is important to amplify the voices in the outdoor BBQ scene, but in Act 1, the reverb and distortion were off-putting.

As an aside: It was amusing  during the outdoor BBQ scene  at sunset, to see in the distance behind the action a group of kids playing – and then realising that there was something happening in their space. They scuttled off after pointing up the hill to the actors and audience. 

This production sees Black Swan back on song with staging and a strong presence in the Perth Festival. We need more reminders of this thread in the woven DNA of Black Swan.

Encore - March 20, 2021

It’s rare to have the opportunity to see both opening performance and closing night. 

Being at Sunset for Black Swan’s The Cherry Orchard on closing night gives an insight into how performances grow and mature over a season’s run.  Or maybe it could be that my ear had attuned to the vibe of the script. 

The performances are fuller and have more nuanced substance. We see and hear more - or is it just me feeling more comfortable with the construct. 

The kitchiness of 1980s memorabilia still looks tokenistic. But there is a strong recognition factor for. See some in the audience who pause to comment on the placemats. 

Sound amplification in Act 1 better. But I still wonder if it was necessary. 

This time the BBQ scene looking over the river was enlivened by the 7:00pm fireworks over Melville Water.  

There’s still the jarring moments when the wittering small talk about Casiotone whatever kicks into Chekhov. But there is still a question about the interpolated ‘Good on ta Bondy!” And the interjected ’clusterfuck’! I know that we always view Chekhov through the filter of translation, but something is lost not gained. 

The party scene in the Vodka courtyard still has padding – manic dancing to music had attack and verve from the actors but is essentially dead air space in terms of dramatic action. 

The final act in the ruined crumbling house is still powerful in draped dust sheets. 

This time I purposefully chose to see the play from differing perspectives – and it does make a difference in terms of where the action is focused (see my earlier comments about the Disney phenomenon of managing points of focus). 

Seeing a play a second time does allow for closer analysis.

The dual challenges of writing and acting are brought sharply into focus. Staying balanced on the continuum of role/character/caricature – the slippery slope between farce and tragedy – is difficult for writers and actors. How do you make the indolent toy boy more than supernumerary? How do you give even a touch of humanity to that role? And how do you make  the obviously farcical brother or neighbour less shallow and obvious? How do you take the former serf beyond simple resentment translated into revenge? This is a writing problem first. 

Did our opinion or response to Ranevskaya change? In complex characters (as Chekhov showed us) we look for the points in the action where the character’s journey changes, shifts, moves. The trajectory of Ranevskaya in this production seemed to move inevitably in one direction only. Did my emotional response to her predicament shift or change? I said after the first viewing of the production that I didn’t like any these characters and I think maybe I have worked out why.

The art of dramatic writing still goes back to the adage: show me, don;t tell me! In this version we are more often told about things – the loss of her first husband and child. Were we emotionally connected to them symbolically and emotionally? Or were we glossed past them as plot points? This is a writing issue.

It is still wonderful to see Black Swan performing at Sunset. The concept of staging a play around the site is exciting and invigorating (as much as I love going into the velvet hush of the theatre!). Let’s continue to bring excitement into our theatregoing. 

Drama Thursday - Restoring beauty and interest in things that have been neglected

 The buzz of anticipation in a theatre audience is palpable. 

I am sitting in the Octagon Theatre on the campus of the University of Western Australia. It’s the first time i have been in a theatre since March. We have been through the long Winter drought of theatre as our society has grappled with the Coronavirus COVID-19 pandemic. I am here because Black Swan State Theatre Company is launching its 2021 season. 

Always hopeful to hear the new season, particularly after the year of no theatre that we have in this plague year. And the program from Black Swan looks interesting:

• a localised Cherry Orchard set in Manjimup and playing in and around the remnants of the Sunset Home on the banks of the Swan River; act 2 in the dying embers of sunset in summer.

• a new production about the relationships between Australian colonial settlement and indigenous people. York.

• a pick up from a Blue Room production.

• a year long quest to find the Shakespeare play that will conclude the season; Black Swan audiences asked to vote on which of the plays of Shakespeare will be performed. The director is named but everything else – actors, creatives – are up in the air.

• a celebration of 30 years of Black Swan as a company that was born out of the success of Bran New Day.

There’s much to look forward to. The Artistic Director, Clare Watson outlined the exciting season of productions for 2021 (not forgetting the Oklahoma production that will be what is left of the 2020 season that was pandemic struck). Revisiting the founding vision of the Company and an embedding of local stories and indigenous spirit.

But, in particular, I was struck by the words of Rick Heath, appointed as Executive Director just eight months ago and immediately before the pandemic shutdown. Describing himself as a pragmatic idealist and that “extraordinariness is for everyone if you choose to lean into it” Rick explored how “logic makes you think; emotion makes you act”.  

We are living in a time when our emotions are important. They are critical to our ell-being, our families and our neighbours, our lovers and relationships, our businesses and communities. Proust said that art is a mechanism that can restore beauty and interest in things that have been neglected – unfairly neglect. He also said that we can learn arts great lessons – to re-examine our relationship with the world

Rick went on to observe that theatre is a service industry – plumbers in better suits. He explored the idea that as curators of theatre we remember that that curators are “ones responsible for the care of souls”. and he moved towards his conclusion reminding us that the measure of success for a theatre company is twofold. Is what the company does great art? And how has the company shaped the circumstances put in place to make that art great?

Of course, the focus of any theatre company is not on any one person, let alone the executive director. But I found it refreshing that any executive director could and would share and shape thoughts in this way.

Looking forward to the year after a plague year. Looking forward to restoring beauty and interest in things that have been neglected. 

You can check out the whole launch as well as what Rick and Claire had say at the live stream of the event: https://www.facebook.com/watch/live/?v=413042723397048&ref=watch_permalink