Shakespeare’s Birthday (Again!)

As The Shakespeare’s Globe team in London remind us: Happy (459th) Birthday Shakespeare! (https://www.shakespearesglobe.com). Links suggested by John Foreman. 

 At one level we are reminded of the Shakespeare industry. There are many many editions of Shakespeare’s plays and the accompanying academic industry. Conservative curriculum in England still mandates Shakespeare as essential to the schooling of young minds. 

Stepping beyond those caveats, the richness and imaginative power of Shakespeare continues to weave a powerful web generation after generation.

What are your favourite quotations from the Bard?

Why do we continue to see new productions of his plays in new mediums? 

(The latest Macbeth directed by Joel Coen for ApplyTV, for example. Or, Romeo and Juliet filmed in an empty theatre, over seventeen days, during a global pandemic in 2021 and recently on ABC TV ins Australia.)

What is the relevance of Shakespeare to Australian students in 2022?

In1961 Jan Kott published Shakespeare Our Contemporary “finding in his analogies between Shakespearean situations and those in modern life and drama the seeds of vital new stage-conceptions”.

That’s a long time ago in another century, but is Shakespeare still resonating with Generation X/Y/Z? And why?

How will you celebrate Shakespeare?

IDEA DAY 2022

Julius Caesar - WAAPA Third Year Students at the Subiaco Theatre Centre

 The Pandemic has meant that I have seen this cohort of graduating WAAPA students less than previous ones. I was eager to see how this group of students were progressing

From the opening the production had a strongly stated sense of aggression – an animal spirit that manifested itself in the mob. The panther like movements towards the corpse of Caesar during Mark Antony’s speech worked with a kind of savage ferocity that worked well.  

As always with being an audience for young actors I ask myself key questions. How effectively was the meaning of the text interpreted and communicated? How well was the physicality of the character shown? 

This production revealed some excellent text interpretation that captured the nuance of meaning and was well-paced. Having noted that, particularly in the scenes between Brutus and Casca,  there were some sections that were less successful. Part of the issue for us, is that we know so many of the often-quoted speeches so well, that we spot missed opportunities more easily. It’s not easy to carry off lines like Cry “Havoc!” and let slip the dogs of war… or chart the nuances of shifting irony of the repetition of Brutus is an honourable man… But the play depends on them. 

There is a curious conundrum about this play. As is so often the case and also evident in this production, the title is abbreviated from the original: The Tragedy of Julius Caesar. How can this be a tragedy – in a classical sense – if the main character is dead by the beginning of Act 3 Scene 1? And what is Caesar's fatal flaw? Who are the real protagonists in this play? Brutus? Mark Antony? Casca and the Conspirators? One of the questions for this group of actors to answer: who do the audience most value as they leave the theatre? In this production I came away with a stronger sense of Brutus. I wonder if that was the director’s and actors’ intention.  

The animal imagery and savagery was evoked powerfully. Full blooded battle scenes were staged well. The costuming gave a vaguely stated sense of time and place. We have become used to cross-gender casting. Accepting the convention brings with it a blurring of expectations. But I was worried by some of the physicality choices in one cross gender role that relied heavily on contemporary gestures and body language from teen TikToc portrayals. The licking knives touches from schlock horror flicks also occasionally verged on the laughable. 

The simple setting of three broken columns and a simply raised dais evoked a sufficiently classical mood. Subtly through the action of the play, the broken columns changed lighting states, glowed from an inward lighting and, at the crucial moments of Caesar’s assassination, flowed with blood. Simple, but effective. 

The Subiaco Theatre Centre MainStage with its corner stage is a warm and forgiving performance space. It is kind on voices. The production made excellent use of the various entrances through the audience (though a couple of times, errant swords in hilts, might have been perilously close to those sitting in the aisle seats!).

As always, I am interested to see our forthcoming generation as they stand on the cusp of the profession. Overall, I was not disappointed by the promise shown. 

Drama Tuesday - The Empty Space is calling

In Western Australia Year 12 drama students complete a Practical Examination with four parts in 20 minutes. As the Examination Guidelines stipulate, “All examination rooms will be set up in a consistent manner in terms of lighting, access to power supply for sound equipment and the placement of the markers as shown in the diagram below. Candidates are required to work within the marked performance area.” ( Drama ATAR course Practical (performance) examination requirements).

It is important to prepare and inspire students for this challenge. 

The following notes are taken from a workshop developed by the Western
Australian Youth Theatre Company and then Artistic Director, Jenny Davis, to help students orient themselves to the task.

The practical workshop had four parts and included examples of performances from students who had completed this task in the previous year. It focused on helping students develop Part 1 of the Exam – Original Solo Performance.

To help students develop their Original solo Performance, we work through three exercises that are designed to help crystallise dramatic action in the specific format and limits of the exam.

Successful original solo productions are the result of a process of making effective choices.

They need:

• Dramatic action – drama tells stories but it is not storytelling. Nor is it standup comedy. Something happens to someone.

• Dramatic tension – driving the dramatic action is something at risk, some obstacle to overcome, some conflict to bring to a point of climax.

• Characters – people in a situation

• Characters on a journey – at a turning point in their lives, at a moment of transition or discovery, where things change

• Characters we as audience care about, are interested in, fascinated (or horrified or moved by or…); people for whom we feel emotion and identification

• Embodiment using space, time and energy; these characters in the situation create dramatic action through contrasts of movement and stillness, light and darkness, loud and soft, varying pace, getting faster and slower as the action unfolds.

In the workshop participants were asked to find physical ways of showing their ideas in images.

The next stage was to develop a Thesis Statement for their idea.

A thesis statement offers a concise summary of the main point of the Original Performance. It is usually expressed in one sentence. It contains the topic and the controlling idea.

The thesis statement is developed, supported, and explained through the Original Performance. Thesis statements help organise and develop the body of the piece. They let audiences know the writer/performer’s purpose..

Adapted from From Wikipedia 

These three activities were the focus of the workshop. Participants were sent away with other possible explorations:

Exploring character traits. They explored the physicalisation of the characters in their stories. They worked from direct large opposites – boisterous/quiet; kind/cruel; trusting/suspicious. They were then asked to use observational detail that specified actions and reactions. 

Finding form and style. Participants worked with the broad categorisations of Representational and Presentational drama. They are asked to work through their Original Solo Performance as if it is completely representational. In other words, to show the action as if it is actually happening. Then they work through their idea using presentational forms and styles: abstracting movement, reducing movements to minimal, challenge actor-audience relationships, etc. 

There is a space marked out on the floor approximately four metres wide and three metres deep. The question every Year 12 Drama student must answer:

How will I fill the empty space? 

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 

Drama Tuesday - Stepping into Process Drama

December 2020 Presentation by Robin Pascoe for 

The convenors of this conference also shared syllabus documents prepared for Romanian teachers.

Drama Tuesday - Stirring the embers

Part Two - where have all the flowers gone?

One other observation from all this sifting through the embers of a teaching career is to think deeply about what we need in order to be ready to teach drama. One of the necessary conditions is to have a swag bag of resources – a repertoire of practice to draw from.

Resources for teaching drama is one key.

Now, I have too many books. I know. A lifetime of collecting and learning and teaching.  And it is  a pain at this point in my life trying to wrangle them into some sort of order.

I will have to discard some of them. I am reminded about the old Jewish invocation against burning books. I also feel bad about consigning them to landfill and dust. But there is something to value in this collection.

There’s a Peter, Paul and Mary song from my adolescence:

Where have all the flowers gone?

Long time passing.

I am thinking about this as I write after spending a morning going through files that I have brought home from my office when I retired at Murdoch. I want to sing:

where have all the resources gone?

One of the unspoken pleasures of an inquisitive mind, is to stand at a bookshelf in a library or in a book store, and to just scan the titles available, looking for something new. It’s reassuring to reaffirm what you know is available, but also to discover new titles and writers. There is a physical pleasure of handling books. 

Maybe it tells something about me and my ways of engaging with knowledge. Knowing is a part of being (my epistemology is my ontology)

As I scanned former students’ annotated bibliographies I was reminded about how rich a vein of gold can be found in what has been written and published about teaching drama. Apart from dusty shelves like mine,  where are they all now? And how much impact have they had?

Part of me asks about all that history of drama teaching publishing: why isn’t there more evidence of impact in everyday schools? Part of me simply celebrates that there is knowledge shared. 

Anyone want to come and look at my bookshelves and share the knowledge there?

Drama Tuesday - Stirring the embers

Part One

TEACHING DRAMA

Why teach theatre? How can we afford not to teach theatre? Dramatic arts are among the most effective tools we have to teach our children to live, love and behave like decent human beings .. . We have an incredible opportunity to un-teach the numbing and de-humanizing lessons of popular culture.

(D. Berkson, fall 2001, Teaching Theatre, vol. 13, number 1)

Do I need to say more? These few words could be my plea in favour of teaching art, any art, in schools, community centres, refuges, mental institutions, nursing homes, jails, etc. Art has no borders, no age or social status. Art learning-teaching is multidimensional: physical, sensorial, social, cognitive, moral, emotional, creative and aesthetic. Some forms are more individual-focused than others; visual art can be a more solitary practice than theatre (in general). Bμt all, at some point in time, deal with an audience. Therefore, art touches people at two levels: 'making art' and 'sharing art'. Again, I am digressing from drama to art in general; it always will be, because art is a way of life. It is a 'discipline', more than a subject. Once it is inscribed in the cells of your body, your being and your expression are artistic. Naturally, you might have a gift or a talent in one particular area; but it is the way you look at the world and deal with it that is different: humane, respectful and visionary.

First question: why teach drama? In my eyes, dramatic art is the closest to daily life. At first sight, it is an art form that does not require too many skills (at least, it appears like this). A musician, or a dancer, needs a regular and long training; actors always seem more 'dilettante'. It is a medium close to our mundane reality; it uses 'natural' body moves and gestures, words, emotions and situations, one performs every day or nearly. It does not frighten people, as dance could. As drama uses spoken words, people find in their memories and life an endless source of inspiration, which they can communicate easily. Once the first step towards theatre is made, it does not take long to realise that there is more to it than merely copying reality. Taught at its best, participants understand that through the magnifier of theatre, they create a 'new' reality, powerful, magic and empowering. Some incredulous pessimists would argue the ethics and the worth of theatre; but no one can deny the healing aspect of theatre, since the beginnings of time. In fact, it was the very function of theatre, because it is the expression of the deepest aspirations of humankind. And even in the most tortured or dark plays, somewhere it addresses the sublime side of humanity. It is a reverse illustration of the paradox: '1he brighter the light, the darker the shadow''.

Therefore, in the light of all what was said before, teaching drama is taking people on a journey of discovery about themselves and about others; or rather, revealing the others dwelling in oneself. It is accessing a world of meanings, symbols and beauty. Beyond the context (the content of the play), teaching drama is exposing the students to new situations, new lives. It is opening the doors of a deeper and more meaningful reality. Teaching drama is constructing and deconstructing many different worlds, to educate, heal and empower its participants, actors and spectators. Theatre is a powerful medium, which brings change in oneself and a community, by widening one's worldviews. It is a social and political tool. Teaching drama can be a revolutionary act. One day, I scribbled on a piece of paper, a quote read somewhere: The Art of a period is the revolution of the collective soul of its time; when in fact, it should have read: The Art of a period is the revelation of the collective soul of its time. Certainly, the last quote makes more sense; but I did like the first one! For all these reasons, I agree with David Berkson, we cannot afford not to teach ,theatre.

Second question: what kind of teacher do I want to be? Out of my heart, my answer is: inspirational. You need to take students, participants and audiences, willingly, on a journey, the best drive is admiration. We all have our 'star', our role model, for some it is Gandhi, for some it is Adolf Hitler. The choice relies on life experiences, meeting with charismatic people and 'what is inscribed on your slate' at birth. The journey of life is about ·'change'; hopefully towards 'light' and not 'darkness'. It is the role of the artist and the teacher to inspire and educate. Both come from a different angle, essentially, the artist delivers art, and the teacher delivers education. It sounds obvious, but sometimes you wonder if art teachers realise there are two words in their title: 'art' and 'teacher'. More than once, in my life, I left a class or a workshop, crying for Art. An 'inspirational' art teacher is one who practices and reflects about art; and is really good at it. Easy to write, it takes a lifetime to realise it. In that sense, teachers are forever learners.

My next point is trust. As a teacher, you need to create a space where the students feel comfortable to explore and express any subjects and situations. I find that the strategy of teacher-in-role is a good one, as you are not putting yourself as an outsider, watching; but sharing the experience with the students. You have to engage and take risk, like them. Sometimes ago, Jenny de Reuck gave her students an article: Drama in Education and TIE: a comparison, written by Gavin Bolton. He mentioned that at a workshop lead by a theatre company, about a sensitive subject (AIDS), the students asked the drama teachers to leave. I can understand fully the position of the students: but, on the other hand, it was a bit sad that they felt limited in the presence of the drama teacher.

Finally, I should like to be a creative teacher, one who shares experiences and takes risks with the students; and with whom it is fun to work. Also, I would provide many opportunities for the students to perform in front of an audience, or share with others, Besides the normal avenues of school's production, there are so many ways to interact with audience: festivals, specific events, national days, etc.

'Education is about power'. Coscientization: awareness and commitment which gives people grounds for ACTION. (Paulo Freire)

Drama Tuesday - Taking Risks! Playing Safe?

When did teachers – English teachers, drama teachers, all teachers – lose their nerve?

Mediating on the content of what we teach in drama (and English)

I am prompted to ask this question following a conversation with a very experienced English teacher friend about the recently published novel Honeybee, by Craig Silvey. We agreed that this was another thought-provoking narrative that is well-written and engaging. But, he went on to add: of course, I couldn’t use this in my school.

Of course, there are questions I want to ask him about Honeybee. Why?

But it is important to look beyond this specific novel and to think about the broader narrowing of curriculum choice and the mood of self-censorship in our schools.  

As a refugee from the “hippie 70’s” when there was a more revolutionary spirit shaking up schools and curriculum, I am more attuned to a more liberal and open-ended approach. So much of becoming a teacher in that period was about breaking free of the shackles of a limited vision for education. Curriculum opened up. Teaching practice changed to be more inclusive and more focused on dialogue and giving voice and agency to students. The world of education became more liberal and free flowing. But I recognise how the times have changed. As recent international events in the USA have shown, words like liberal are terms of abuse and contempt. 

There has been a long term campaign of inculcating fear amongst teachers. 

The tabloid media rant about corrupting young minds urged on by the rising tide of religious extremism. The swings and roundabouts of time set off cycles of action and reaction (and as drama educators, we should know about action and reaction!). But, what are the forces that give hegemony to particular views at any moment?

It goes without saying that I am more likely to think more openly about the content of the plays and novels that we use in schools. Or perhaps, I am less likely to nervously twitch about content. What we can see and hear on television and film is now so much more liberated from other times. In case teachers have not noticed - what our children watch and see and hear on Netflix and in rap songs and online, is no longer as safe and as  sanitised as some like to believe. 

But I do wonder about the accepted curriculum itself. Look closely at the given cannon of texts. (For an interesting historical perspective on the curriculum cannon in english teaching see, Yiannakis, 2014).

Think about some of the topics of the accepted cannon.

• Romeo and Juliet is about illicit infatuation and coupling in a climate of inter-family warring that results in teen suicide.

• Othello involves extremes of jealousy and interpersonal rivalry and inter-racial marriage resulting in death and despair.

• Equus by Peter Schaefer focuses on the disfigurement of horses by a psychotic ally disturbed adolescent.

• Lord of the Flies – I have always been amused that Lord of the Flies is a much used school text (maybe less so now) that has not a single swear word but look at the undertow of its themes: the descent into savagery, the undercurrent of sexuality, the violence. Not forgetting the biblical references to the Beast and the pig.

And I could go on listing texts on required or recommended reading lists that handle difficult and challenging subjects. It seems that we teach some texts without batting a proverbial eyelid, but balk at others. 

Drama – and literature – spring from human experience.

Therefore, we should expect that a broad range of experiences are included – and that we can imaginatively and emotionally enter into these worlds through vicarious experiences. I do not have to be a serial killer to play the role of one in the safety of the fiction we create in drama (not that I’m advocating that we make all drama lessons about becoming serial killers). 

The role of drama and literature is to transport us into worlds that we might not know and through the imaginative experience to better understand and come to know the wider world. 

What is going on at this moment in time? Are the uncertainties of the Pandemic situation surfacing? Is there a sense of fear and a desperate need for reassuringly safe teaching?

What do you think?

What particular topics and subjects triggers the curriculum twitchers?

• Is it sex and sexuality?

• Is it language? (That horse has long bolted!)

• Is it themes such as witchcraft? Satanism? Or similar taboos?

• Or is it the undermining of status quo stereotypes or apple pie and wholesomeness?

Is any topic suitable for teaching?

There is a misplaced nostalgia (if that is the right word for it) for a world that is safe, unthreatening, not complex and frightening. But not all school literature can be a sanitised and hygienic safety net.

Is this a time for bravery? A time for finding our risk taking mojo?

It will take courage. 

Bibliography

Yiannakis, J. (2014). A possible literary canon in upper school English literature in various Australian states, 1945-2005. Issues in Educational Research, 24(1), 98. 

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.