The Lipton Chai Latte Winter Festival will be returning to Bondi Beach this weekend, celebrating the winter season in true alpine style. This year's festival is set to be 'cooler' than ever before with a whole suite of exciting events appearing on and around the huge open air ice rink. A hot chocolate or glass of wine at the Alpine Ski Hut in front of a roaring fire provides the perfect way for skaters to warm up after their skating fun. The mulled European wine, Glühwein, is making an exclusive appearance on Australian shores, being sure to warm you from the inside out. Also on offer is a whole array of specialty European Alpine Cuisine as well as a large variety of live bands and DJ's for your entertainment. Two particular highlight events at the Bondi Winter Festival are the Sk80's Disco Night on this Saturday and the Skate of Origin on Wednesday 4th July. If skating to the catchy beats of the 80s whilst wearing fluorescent leg warmers or cheering the NSW Rugby team to victory whilst witnessing your own live Ice Hockey state of origin game tickles your fancy then book now before tickets run out! Tickets include a 45 minute ice rink session and a warm Lipton Chai Latte at the end of each session. Tickets are limited so get in quick to receive your dose of Winter magic. Click here to win tickets.
These are a few of my favourite things: markets, local artists, knitting groups, crafty delights, handmade treasures, prints for my walls, illustration, photography, zines, workshops, free stuff, little festivals and opportunities to meet new and inspiring creative people. All these things are at Creative Lane - a market on steroids by Sydney-based artists and designers at Gaffa Gallery. On this coming weekend, and the last Saturday of every month. Prospective stallholders can get in touch with Creative Lane on the web, or via suki@yessweetheart.com.au.
Established back in 2001 the Arab Film Festival attempts to celebrate and educate about the complex and diverse nature of Arab-speaking people. Using the medium of film the festival aims to address the misconceptions that exist in regard to Arab people and their customs throughout the world, through support of freedom, expression and information. This year the Arab Film Festival program will feature local and international filmmakers like Narjiss Nejjar of Morocco, Moustafa Zakaria of Egypt and Yahya Alabdallah of Libya, with films like The Last Friday, the story of one man's escape from isolation and restriction, No More Fear, a raw and passionate documentary telling the stories of Tunisian voluntaries, and Habibi, a story of forbidden love, passion and poetry. Still from film Habibi. https://youtube.com/watch?v=Rwl6lbl9bIY
Open Marrickville is a brand spanking new Council event, organised by the community, endeavouring to unlock communal and cultural creativity and talent. The event spans 10 days each one full of storytelling, music, dance, art, theatre, food and collating multiculturalism’s stories and celebrations through a series of mini cultural festivals. Kicking the affair off is Welcome, an event by Marrickville Metro Migrant Resource Centre. Highlights of the festival include an Open Day at the Portuguese Ethnographic Museum on 1 July, ‘Shot!’ the open Marrickville short film festival at Urchin Books on June 27 and 28 and (dis)position: Cigdem Aydemir's Chrissie Cotter Gallery show. Read the full program here. Royal Exchange roof photo by Newtown Graffiti.
This may sound strange: Sydney is not the known centre of the universe and all inspiration. Beyond Surry Hills’ terraces and Chippo’s artist-run galleries lie whole other brave worlds of culture and creativity. Wollongong is known more for its steel than its DIY paper mill production. This June however, the amaZINE Zine Market is coming to town with a bevy of homebrewed literary creations, heady with the smell of fresh wet ink and Clag glue. amaZINE is part of a fortnight-long festival, Unscene, dedicated to unveiling the Gong’s emerging and alternative art community. There’s a whole bunch of shows, parties and gigs in the wider program, but the local doco film night hosted by Music Farmers looks especially exciting for underground film buffs. They’re screening 90s film Steel Town Sound and the Occy Doco. Popcorn is provided but BYO drinks and a beanbag. Sounds like a cosy plan and the perfect brief excuse to escape Sydney. For stall details contact Emma-Lee at hello@milkthieves.com.au
Delving into the mysterious deep blue is a journey not all of us can take. It takes time, licences, money and, most of all, guts. If you want to know what it's like in the deep, deep ocean but don't actually want to venture deep, deep down, then the Australian Museum has the perfect exhibition for you. Deep Oceans explores and unveils the secrets of the world's largest habitat and gets up close to the extraordinary creatures it offers. Great for group hangs, taking your cousins out or just going on a solo expedition, Deep Oceans has a lot going on. Escaping anglerfish (like in Finding Nemo) seeing glow-in-the-dark sea creatures or a fathead found more than 1000m deep in the Tasman Sea. Even getting to look inside a Bathysphere replica, the first submersible to descend beyond light. Feel what it's like to experience enormous water pressure at deep ocean depths and play chicken with a five-metre model of a Giant Squid, the largest invertebrate on Earth. Image: Giant squid. Photo © Brian J Skerry/National Geographic Stock.
Watch this video. A young woman is walking through a park, purposefully. Slowing down, she sees a white note tagged on a sandstone monument. She pauses to detach the card, and peers down carefully at it. Her back slumps a little, she laughs to herself. She turns around suddenly, looking for the prankster responsible for the card. She continues turning then strides toward a man sitting on a bench nearby and introduces herself as Batman. Had she picked up a different card, she might have spoken in a robot voice or started the conversation with a line from a movie. It's the old game of Truth or Dare. The new incarnation started in New York City as a way to break down the barriers between people in public places. Those opting for the 'truth' side of the card these days tweet their responses using the appropriate hashtag. Now Truth or Dare is coming to Sydney, holding its first game at Jurassic Lounge, the nights that transform the Australian Museum into a grown-up playground of live music, drinks, games, comedy and performance. It's a great concept and an experiment in courage and goofiness. Here's hoping enough people have the guts to hug a stranger or quack loudly for 10 seconds or work the lyrics of Rick Astley's 'Never Gonna Give You Up' into their next conversation.
Is it a maze? Is it a board game? Is it a puzzle? Maybe. Arcade Assembly is whatever you make of it - an interactive art installation to explore how we communicate and connect with each other in this modern age. With pocket avatar in tow, players head through the maze encountering various games, performances and other players along the way, all the while picking up clues as to the identity of their own little companion. The team at Shopfront Arts and Performance have worked together with a diverse group of young people from Sydney, all of whom all have experienced exclusion in some way, to produce this exciting piece. Armed with cardboard, scissors and and their imaginations, these youthful folk have created an atmosphere reminiscent of the old amusement arcades and funfairs. They have then juxtaposed this against our modern world, to raise questions about how we interact with each other. The exhibition combines imaginative artworks, digital media and original music, the latter with support from DJ Meem and Heaps Decent. Places are limited and bookings are recommended by email or by phone (02) 9588 3948.
Watch Ant (DJ/Producer Anthony Davis) and Slug (rapper Sean Daley) onstage during their first Australian appearance in three years. The Minneapolis, Minnesota duo are credited with first putting Twin Cities hip hop on the map 20 years ago. Since then, they have released eight albums and co-founded their own independent hip hop label, Rhymesayers Entertainment. Emotionally honest and socially mindful, Atompshere's music comes from a real and relatable place. Each track tells a story, each definitely worth hearing. https://youtube.com/watch?v=gbEwHJX95QE
Bearhug's first album has been hotly anticipated since they were featured on 2009's Spunk Singles Club. In 2010, they released their EP To Anything and have since landed supporting spots alongside the likes of Built to Spill and Broken Social Scene. With all of that initial work behind this Aussie group, it is finally time for Bearhug to perform their first album Bill, Dance, Shiner, which was released this March. Expect quirky, quality indie rock that vacillates between classic rock guitar and dreamy melodies. https://youtube.com/watch?v=rk9WOTwtUO8
The first lesson you will learn is to bring something to cover your hair when you lie down. To do otherwise is to ensure that you have a head full of charcoal and, no matter what the word around the playground is, that's not necessarily the best accessory for where you're going. Such is the life of a traveller at Performance Space's current season, Dimension Crossing: welcome to a state of being where you will be rained upon, whispered at and, for those who like to sit and watch, witness work between life, death and virtual reality. For those seeking charcoal in their hair — your first stop is Robyn Backen's Whisper Pitch, an installation that conjures up two brick "whispering walls" in the Carriageworks foyer. Guests are welcome to bring their own whispers into this space, but there is a rich experience to be had by listening to the recorded whispers that seep out of the walls. Multilingual, evocative of stories that never quite begin or end, these whispered snippets will quite easily coax listeners into lying on the floor for an extended period of attention. Just keep an eye out for that pesky charcoal. Not to worry, however, for if you do leave Whisper Pitch with a head like a pepper shaker, your salvation lies in the deluge of Michaela Gleave's Our Frozen Moment. Another installation, it is a cinematic experience that invites guests to stand in a never-ending rain shower while an unceasing strobe pulses strange images through the falling droplets. The effect is mesmerising — time need not be counted in this place, and soon your eyes will encourage you to stare at the white noise that manifests at intervals around you. If Whisper Pitch suggests a larger narrative, Our Frozen Moment seals all stories into a single point of soaking experience. Between these two points is a program of three, short-season works that navigate between realms. Yumi Umiumare's EnTrance opened the program with a butoh performance situated between the "near shore of life" and the "far shore of death", a polarity reflected both by concerns of life and death as well as through the contrast in style between Japanese traditions and contemporary Japanese city culture. Soon to come is Victoria Hunt's new solo dance work Copper Promises: Hinemihi Haka, which has grown out of Hunt's experiences in reconnecting with her family and Maori heritage. Like EnTrance, Hunt's work creates a conceptual landscape that charts a between-place: in this case a place that links Hunt over the gulf of time with her female ancestor, Hinemihi. The final work to be shown in Dimension Crossing is the hypermediated child of the 21st century, Computer Boy. Blessed with an LCD screen for a head, Computer Boy is perhaps a reversal of the Pinocchio tale — he is a puppet who, rather than wanting to become a real boy, presents a state where real children regularly slip into the virtual. Whether or not they need to be pulled back from this brink will be answered by the collaborative talents of Blood Policy and APHIDS. For individual season dates, see the full Dimension Crossing program at the Performance Space website.. Image from EnTrance by Yumi Umiumare by Garth Oriander
It's a pretty sensational time to be a Sydneysider. Over the last few years, we've had the privilege of unearthing some brilliant new underground bars, hole-in-the-wall restaurants, festivals, exhibitions and street art. While many of these developments have grown out of a fresh entrepreneurial spirit, we've got to give mad props to our local councils for providing cultural pioneers with opportunities to pursue their dreams (e.g. through the introduction of new licensing laws). Now, just weeks after Leichhardt mayor Darcy Byrne announced an ambitious proposal to reinvigorate Parramatta Road, the folks at City of Sydney Council are looking to open up a fresh conversation on Sydney's creative future. They're calling for cultural direction from every man, woman and child within reasonable distance of the Harbour Bridge, and kicking off the conversation with a forum around the topic 'What creative life do you want for Sydney?'. A free event running at the State Theatre on Wednesday, April 10, the forum will feature input from US 'community transformer' Carol Coletta as well as a panel featuring the who's who of Australia's cultural development sector. If you're invested in this city's creative future, or if you're just keen to see what Lord Mayor Clover Moore actually looks like in person, then head over here to grab your tickets right now.
>Much of your response to Therese Desqueyroux will depend on whether the words 'slow-burn, Audrey Tautou period piece' ring your alarm bells. In 1920s provincial France, unconventional Therese (Tautou as an anti-Amelie) weds a wealthy business owner pragmatically rather than for love. She realises the marriage is a trap lying in wait, a fact counterpointed by her stubborn sister-in-law's rash, passionate love affair with a poor, Jewish neighbour. Weighted with an unwanted pregnancy, Therese longs for an out, and when she discovers too much of her husband's medicine makes him ill, she makes an irreversible mistake. There are two portraits painted here: one of a woman's slow dawning that she has no control over her life, and one of the society that corners women and strips them of their choices. The challenge for the highly respected director Claude Miller is to bring freshness to a theme so thoroughly mined by other adapted novels like Anna Karenina and Portrait of a Lady. Perhaps something has been lost in the translation from novel to film. Perhaps Miller should have kept the book's original structure. Commencing with Therese's crime then stepping back to reveal the lead-up would have introduced some much-needed momentum and suspense. Whatever the misstep, the character of Therese, not unlike the film itself, remains a little out of reach. Where Miller aims for 'restraint', he more often hits 'dour' and the outcome is an austere, sombre character study. The film momentarily lifts off in a handful of beautifully shot dream sequences where Therese privately acts her inner violence, but these respites are not quite enough to shake the fog.
What is the nature of a place? A city? An idea? If you lay out your perceptions flat on paper, you can sometimes find hidden forms emerge from what seemed like noise inside your head. Artist Alexandra Lederman’s maps grow her inner monologue out from a pair of central circles, budding her thoughts out into ideas and things. This week, her Mind Mapping series will be spread out across the walls of the Tate. Her geometric forms are only out for a few days, so map a path to Glebe if you want to get a window into her mind. Mind Mapping launches at 6pm on Wednesday, April 3.
It was Michelle Pfeiffer who taught us that poetry is important. And not just about the rhyme. She taught us (and a group of lost homeboys) that poetry is inspiring. She taught us that poetry is everywhere. Poetry isn't just about bells tolling, and daffodils on a hill. Poetry is about expression. It's about letting loose. It's not just a random jumble of words but a spectacular outpouring of feeling. Rhymes optional. This year's Australian Poetry Slam will exhibit the best two poets from every state and territory. With only two minutes on stage to impress a panel of judges chosen from the audience, this evening will truly show poetry in motion. And the prize is well worth fighting for. This year's winner will be representing Australia on a writer's tour of Asia, including the Bookworm International Literary Festival tour of China, and will feature as part of the Ubud International Writers and Readers Festival in Bali and the Sydney Writers' Festival. Sydney Theatre is about to get slammed with some serious poet talent. So leave your rhyming dictionaries at home, open your ears and be ready to blow Wordsworth, Coleridge, and Thomas out of your minds.
Julie Delpy has a particular writing style. You might call it The Hangover for the high brow. It's full of cursing and smoking weed and laughing at words that sound like 'cunnilingus', and getting caught in webs of awkwardness after you tell your uptight neighbour to stop riding you because you're dying of cancer when you're not. And yet her audience is more Dendy than Hoyts. Teen boys don't aspire to live out Delpy scenes at schoolies. 2 Days in New York finds her character, Marion, broken up with her 2 Days in Paris boyfriend, Jack, not long after the birth of their son. Because that's the kind of thing that happens under Delpy's watch: not all relationships are forever. And figuring out this commitment thing is part of the story here. Her relationship with her new de facto, Mingus (Chris Rock), is about to be tested as Marion's family comes for a visit from Paris. The couple, who met while working at the Village Voice, have their typically NY neuroses stretched beyond cute. Marion's rotund father, Jeannot (Albert Delpy, Julie Delpy's real life dad), has tried to smuggle in several sausages upon his person; her sister, Rose (Alexia Landeau), has no affinity with American puritanism; and her sister's boyfriend, Manu (Alexandre Nahon), thinks Mingus will be cool with him doing a drug deal in the flat because he's black. Delpy's mother, Marie Pillet, who was a delight as Marion's mother Anna in 2 Days in Paris, has since died, and in 2 days in New York, as in life, her daughter is still trying to accept her death. Some people find the Delpy aesthetic grating and as thin as the gross-out comedies alluded to earlier. And while it may be true that this film is 'about nothing' and sometimes blithely scrappy, it's also blinkered to think that Delpy's quirks don't matter. Quirks isn't even the right word, attached as it currently is to a whimsy and cutesiness that bear no relation to the 2 Days In universe. She somehow gets to make un-Hollywood films that reach a large-ish audience, and that's an incredibly refreshing thing to see. Because apart from bawdy and untraditional, funny and generous, the other thing Two Days in Paris is, is internationalist. In Delpy's world, main characters don't all come from the same country, speak the same language, or share the same culture. Their differences may be the engine of humour, but everyone is shown respect and understanding that goes beyond stereotype. The set-up is a reality many people live but somehow rarely see on screen. There's one very telling early scene: Mingus takes Marion's father, who speaks no English unless it's to say something inappropriate, to his regular Thai massage centre to help him loosen up after the trans-Atlantic flight. We all sink down in our seats, but the worst does not happen. Far from it. Mingus emerges after his massage to see Jeannot sharing a cup of tea with the owners, with whom he has been conversing in scraps of Vietnamese. It turns out the owners are actually from Saigon, a city in which Jeannot also spent his childhood. The man might not understand Americans, but his experience has given him a worldliness that is beautifully acknowledged. https://youtube.com/watch?v=Q1HDAOlPDzA
In a season two episode of the iconic Flight of the Conchords, Jemaine asks his comedic comrade Bret, "What expression is on your face?" To which a deadpan Bret answers, "Um. Guilty expression. What expression is on your face?" Now Two Little Boys sees Bret McKenzie as Nige: mullet-haired, potty-mouthed and totally guilt-ridden upon accidentally killing a backpacker while cruising the bleak streets of Invercargill. Those used to the pokerfaced prankster on FotC take note: this is a blacker, bitterer Bret — plagued with demons and incessantly panicky — but, like toasted sandwiches and beer, it works. Two Little Boys is a deliciously dark screwball comedy about "what it means to really be dead" and, in turn, what it means to be alive. Nige has had a falling out with his best friend since childhood, Deano (Hamish Blake), with whom he'd shared beers, boner jokes, and a bedroom since adolescence. Nige, on sensing there might be more to life than mischief and piss-ups, moved in with his new mate Gav (Maaka Pohatu), who is fond of poetry, pot, and piety. It all goes pakaru when Nige hits the Norwegian tourist in the wee hours one night and finds himself with a hot meat pie in his lap and a corpse on his hands. He turns to the jilted Deano, whose manic-eyed monstrousness quickly becomes apparent when he steps in to help his beloved buddy get out of trouble. The bromance-gone-bad elements are all, devilishly, in place: the well-adjusted new mate, the angry ex-girlfriend, the strewn-about reminders of their goodtime past. Blake is brilliant as the obscene Deano, bringing a crazy-eyed sanguinariness to Deano's unwavering loyalty. Set against the magnificence of New Zealand's South Island, the duo's road-trip to discreetly dump the deceased in the Catlins is as disturbing as it is cartoonishly comical. Blake and McKenzie are a dangerously funny pair; their Anzac-like brethren is a fine motif of our two southerly countries' camaraderie. Expect lots of trackpants, swear words, and toasted sandwiches. Folks from the South Island might recognise a face or two, with 100 extras chosen from around the area. Enjoy the immature giggle you get out of telling the cinema teller you would like to see 'two little boys' — this is a flick about the joy of juvenility and the occasional freakishness of undying fidelity.
In the small space of six months Deep Sea Arcade have almost doubled the asking price for a ticket to one of their gigs, while simultaneously proving that they're more than justified in doing so. Before they lock themselves away to record the highly anticipated follow-up album to March's Outlands the five-piece are playing a string of shows through all the major Australian cities. Sydney's leg will see them land at the Metro Theatre at the end of this month, where their reverberated '60s psych-pop will find itself in good company with the '60s goth rock of The Preatures and the oceanic electronic beats of Fishing (who hail from the deep green inland sea known as the Blue Mountains). Catch the infectious five-piece on the 30th before their meteoric rise bumps the cost of a ticket up yet another price bracket. https://youtube.com/watch?v=XeZs1rW5OTQ
Beware, child. Beyond the village walls lies the Forest of the Strange. Its weaving paths pass tree roots and the shadows sing queer tunes, the whispers of which will bewitch the ordinary and whisk poor fools away. This is the eternal home of the Bohemian Masquerade Ball. In a society saturated with spectacle, to the point where we have no option but to be a voyeur everyday, the fey children of the BMB offer a vision with some soul. Blending burlesque, gypsy, circus, jazz and trip-hop — amongst many other varied forms — the mad travellers from Bohemia bring disparate cultures together to find a unity in the moment of performance. Now touring in its third year, the BMB is more than a sumptuous excuse to revel in debauchery; it is a lifestyle choice. The members of the company embrace certain practices, from environmental sustainability to a fervent humanism buoyed by a quest for the spiritual. Any guest to their Ball, therefore, will have the opportunity to step beyond the everyday and into the in-between, the place of dreams and memories from before the womb. Wear a mask. Become someone else. Dance to great music. Make love with every sense. And then bring a slice of the bizarre back to your village, to cherish forevermore. Video by Being Films. https://youtube.com/watch?v=rYz570m2o_Q
If we sat down and analysed the main components of the Night Noodle Markets at Hyde Park, there would surely be very few who would not be desirous to attend. Firstly, you have noodles. Find me a person who does not like noodles and I will show you someone who has hitherto not known the juicy pleasures contained in those lovely white boxes. The plethora of available noodles of every shape and size, flavoured with the sauces and toppings of a multitude of Asian nations has my mouth watering just thinking about it. Secondly, it's night. Who doesn't like a mid-week outing, particularly in the spectacularly fairy-lit Hyde Park in springtime? What more perfect way to entertain your date, or to impress your friends? Promising to be bigger and better than ever, the Night Noodle Markets will take place in the second and third weeks of October and will transport you to another land. A land of wonderful spring evenings spent with friends out under the stars. Oh, how I do love noodles. The Night Noodle Markets are on from 5 to 9.30pm weeknights.
I missed TINA last year because I was frightened of travel that's more than a walk but less than a plane flight, and it was a bad choice: People there were all going to lovely parties and meeting young arts types from other states and going to afterparties with them on the astroturfed rooftops of houses that had pet rats named Sorbet. Well, fine, that was only one specific house, but you get the picture. Adventure to Newcastle, utopian tent city of good times, etc. This Is Not Art is a festival that's actually five festivals, bringing together acts and panels and talks and fairs and workshops and installations and gigs from emerging and innovative culture-makers from around the nation in a celebration of all things young, creative and experimental. There's the Crack Theatre Festival for the dramatically inclined, Critical Animals for Theory kids both institutional and indie, Electrofringe for all that stuff with technology and stuff, the Sound Summit for musical adventurers and the Young Writers' Festival for, well, you get it. And actually all of it is for everyone, with the festival being geared toward introducing people to what's new across the arts as well as facilitating community and collaboration amongst practitioners.
I have to admit that I was partially distracted during this film by the bedroom of the main character, Olive (Emma Stone). It was spectacular. How come teenagers in American films always seem to have awesome bedrooms that have huge, beautiful French windows looking out onto manicured lawns? And large desks and double beds? Don't get me wrong, the film was not so boring that I was too distracted by decor to know what was going on, far from it in fact. Loosely based on the classic novel The Scarlet Letter, Easy A explores the issues of puritanical public opinion judging the lives of others on the basis of rumours without ever asking for the truth. Olive has told a small white lie about having a weekend fling and losing her virginity to a college boy, with the rumour soon spreading around school. To add to her new reputation, a collection of sorrowful nerds ask her to repeat the favour, telling lies about their own small indiscretions with the witty redhead in order to gain a modicum of popularity. As the rumours grow and take on lives of their own, Olive begins to be persecuted by her fellow students, particularly the school's young Christian group, who have all promised to save themselves till marriage. So, back to the bedroom. It was so unrealistic. No teenager ever had such an astounding living space. And only in American teen films and television series are parents as witty, cool and laidback with their incredibly verbose children. But despite all these little qualms, this film is a serious laugh. The cinema was filled with raucous laughter despite the majority of the audience almost assuredly not being part of the target audience of 16-year-olds. Stanley Tucci and Patricia Clarkson are perfectly matched as Olive's parents, letting their comic sides run wild. Amanda Bynes is actually not a bad little actor, despite some of her less-than-impressive previous film dalliances. And of course, this is the first movie I've ever seen where there's a character called Rhiannon. The bad guys don't really learn anything, the good guys get what they want and it all ends nice and happily, but you really can forgive any of those cliches as it is a truly funny film that promises to impress even the most decor-distracted in the audience.
Like cake, pass-the-parcel and herpes, some things were just made to share. Lucky for borrowed boyfriend sweaters everywhere, Bonds is an understanding little go-between. With an awesomely slouchy and '90s-esque line of classic boy/girl pieces, the Aussie clothing crew's latest made2share range seeks to stretch the idea of the 'must-have' monochrome tee/jersey/slacks piece across both femme et homme wardrobes and celebrate the tendency to borrow clothes or lurk in the clothing department of your significant other. To commemorate these multigender babies hitting shelves, the undie monarchs have teamed up with gin-soaked shindig trash-talkers Vice for a photographic exhibition of unisexual sorts, as a bunch of modish contemporary guy/girl duos in the realms of music, fashion, art, film and photography grabbed a camera and developed a dynamic series of self-portraits for a night of perusal pleasure at Luxe Studios. Dolling up the wall will be the likes of fashion designers Alex and Georgie Cleary, photographers Daniel Boud and Cybele Malinowski, film director Ben Briand and designer Brenda Harvey, contemporary artists Pat Foster and Jen Berean, film director Chris Hill, and fashion designer Stephanie Downey and musicians Tim Harvey and Lani Somers. My my, dynamic duos are surely best served in selfies. With a special musicofashionable accompaniment from electric Victorian m/f duo Metals, this evening of genderbending, his-and-her creative cooperation and general matching-towel slickness is sure to prove daring wearing, and emblematic that sharing is caring. https://youtube.com/watch?v=2AoXh3YkQuU
A swaggering hero with something to prove and an aloof maiden for the winning are good, solid elements of a ballad, and as 'The Ballad of Leila and Lee', Yellow Moon has these down in it's 17-year-old 'Stag' Lee (John Shrimpton) and Silent Leila (Layla Estasy). There's adventure and romance and obstacles to overcome, there are repeated refrains, there's a fairly loose representation of time, and there's a focus on storytelling that sees the actions reimagined rather than taking place. The four actors shift between describing and performing the characters, both retrospectively, and they get to intervene, to depict a scene and then, effectively, take it back. "But of course that's not what happened,” the audience hears after some of the scenes where the characters seem to be making the most progress, until, finally, a “that's exactly how it was.” It's self-conscious and melodramatic, but then, people are. Especially teenagers. The love story, filtered through Leila's self-harming fixation with tabloid glamour and Lee's awkward sexual bravado, holds together an episodic plot based around horribly bad choices and timing, through a world whose adult inhabitants (played by Danielle Cormack and Kenneth Moraleda in several roles each) aren't doing much to help them. The alternations between lyrical, choreographed passages of exposition and fairly straight-up depictions of key events and conversations can be a little jarring, and there wasn't much tension to the suspense, but the performances were credible and engaging and the play managed to tell a story and explore characters and experiment with form, which is really quite a lot to do.
Going the Distance may not exactly rock the conventions of the rom-com, but it is a refreshingly vibrant addition to the genre. So while the meet-cute, montages and requisite emotional rollercoaster (or are dodgem cars a better metaphor?) follow a route as familiar as the one our couple criss-cross between New York and San Francisco, the saving grace is chemistry. It can't necessarily have been a given that real life on-and-off again couple Drew Barrymore and Justin Long would be able to spice up the silver screen, and yet admirably and oftentimes hilariously, they manage to do so. Playing [insert your suitably yuppie professions here], Erin and Garrett share a delightfully drunken one-night stand before agreeing to casually keep seeing each other for Erin's final six weeks in the Big Apple. No points for guessing what happens next, but here's where credit must go to debut screenwriter Geoff LaTulippe and especially director Nanette Burstein (American Teen), for keeping up the pace and mixing the many phone montages with a solid supporting cast. Christina Applegate is a great addition as Erin's protective sister Corinne. The character may be derivative of Leslie Mann's turn in Knocked Up, yet she and Barrymore share some of the film's funniest scenes, filled with raunchy girl talk. In fact, one of the most delightful aspects of Going the Distance is the (all too rare) eclectic array of blue, silly, witty comedy the script gives the women to bash around. As Burstein's first foray into feature filmmaking, Going the Distance benefits from her documentary background. Bearing a light touch and a fine ability to juggle an ensemble, she has succeeded in injecting new vigour into an increasingly desperate genre. And regardless of whether or not Barrymore and Long make it off-screen, their youthful frivolity and rapid-fire repartee are skilfully wedded together on film. https://youtube.com/watch?v=BU4ZXwVvgBg
If Willy Wonka were a typographer, this would be his chocolate factory. His waterfall would not be made of chocolate but of ampersands, his cups would be full of T's, not tea, and the oompa loompas would be handcrafting tildas, umlauts and interrobangs. Naturally, he would do all his shopping at the Pop Up Alphabet Co-Op. Open for a single weekend, this Surry Hills pop-up has gathered art from graphic, furniture and jewellery designers, plus craftspeople from across Australia and Asia. Everything to re-design your home will be available; including prints and knits, postcards and pillows featuring fonts both classics and new from Arial to Zeta Bold. Like the edible toadstools and chocolate stream, literally, everything around the store could be yours to own — there are even prices on the pricetags, both of which promise to be affordable. The Pop-Up launch will also be celebrating the opening of Stereotyped: Sound and Typography, an exhibition exploring how sound and type create meaning simultaneously in our lives. So find your golden ticket and have your fill of all things number, word and phrase this weekend.
In any other profession an avalanche of heart surgery, cocaine addictions, extramarital relations, divorce and alcoholism would be enough to warrant throwing in the towel and considering a serious life change. A stand-up comedian, however, couldn't ask for better material. Robin Williams is no stage spring chicken, with his prestigious presence seeing three decades, four Oscar nominations, one Oscar win, two Emmy awards, four Grammys, six Golden Globes, one Mork and one Mindy. Weapons of Self Destruction is a grand old return to the sex/politics/global warming/elderly/drugs wit that fans have come to dote upon, as November will see the man's first-ever stand up tour to wash up on Australian shores. At almost 60, it's about flipping time you visited, Mrs Doubtfire. After testing new material to the sound of roaring raves from UK and US audiences last year, Williams' energetically classic comedy has certainly proved the test of time, with Disneyfied children hardly having to mourn the decline of their Genie. With his notorious use of assorted accents and performative smarts, this scathing and often uncouth 59-year-old comedic wit holds one skill over many of his younger contemporary stand-ups (despite a disturbing fondness Viagra skits) that raises his show to something of a must-see: the man can actually act. Williams is notorious for his attentive research of locale, with every country he swoops upon receiving personalised treatment and detailed local criticism. God help us when he discovers Tony Abbott.
Collaboration is an art Melburnian musicians really manage to nail. Joining the likes of soulsters the Bamboos and the Ray Mann Three super group (two distinct words in an un-Jack-Whitian sense), talented trio Electric Empire got up offa that thang and made some damn fine music for show and tell. Harnessing and caressing the power of Stevie Wonder, Curtis Mayfield and Donny Hathaway with one fell bass swoop and a series of handclaps, this Melbournian threesome bring a raw contemporary approach to soul that proves Aussies actually know how to use a flanger and a horn section. As the production/songwriting/performing brainchild of Dennis Dowlut (founding member of electronic R'n'B ARIA-nabbing duo Disco Montego), the man's persistence in crafting music with such feel and sincerity is wonderfully admirable given the loss of brother and musical partner Darren to cancer in 2005. With a new sound, a new scene and a newly soulful lease on life, Electric Empire is certainly the sunshine after the rain, and my my what rays it casts. With schmick production, a live explosion of horns and clavs and an alleged hand-picked invite to perform at Baz Luhrmann's Christmas party last year, the fresh crew features jazz-laden keys from Aaron Mendoza and the Motown snaps of percussionist Jason Heerah to create one smooth ride of a soul machine. With a debut album independently recorded, produced and promoted on the trio's own label Electric Empire Music, the bass is workin' and the Moogs are pulsin' as single 'Baby Your Lovin' lights up the deep rhythmic scene of Australia's more recent seventies throwdown. Behold ladies and gentlefolk — a new Empire has arisen. https://youtube.com/watch?v=3hCa5OYGLy4
Does the future bother you? Does the prospect of things to come fill you with an unspecified sense of dread and foreboding? Or do you look at the future rather with a sense of optimism and easy anticipation? Whatever your untold horror of the coming world, the Performance Space's Uneasy Futures season of forward-looking work takes all of these things to heart, regarding the future with a circumspect, eager eye. Spanning the duration of the season, Awfully Wonderful is an experimental exhibition which brings you regular in-exhibit performance art and random inhabitants, as well as offering regular speakers, performers and film slipped into the Performance Space's regular Clubhouse program. Briwyant is a dance piece that crosses Yolngu dreaming with the domesticity of the Inner West, while Dean Walsh's Fathom juxtaposes dance with the environment's future while utilising his scuba-diving past life, live on stage. The season's drama offering is The Disappearances Project, a collaboration with Version 1.0 fresh from Bathurst. A play which plays on life without loved ones, and what life is like when you're the one searching for a missing person.
In Busted, artist Shannon Field continues his investigation of gender and what it is to be cast amongst that most problematic and misunderstood of tribes, the Australian heterosexual male. Using multiple mediums and a direct visual style akin to Outsider or Naïve artists, in Busted Field reconstructs the visages of a number of key characters from our colonial past and questions what role this past has played in the construction of the contemporary Australian masculine identity. Alongside a number of convict first-fleeters are well known figures such as Elizabeth Macquarie and Burke and Wills. That dynamic duo seems a particularly appropriate choice in a discussion of Australian masculinity. Nothing says ‘she’ll be right’ or ‘no worries’ like an impromptu trip from Melbourne to the Gulf of Carpentaria led by someone with little to no skills in exploration. The resulting images are by turns visceral, alarming and wryly humorous. The nature of masculinity is a fraught topic to take on, and those of us who have zero ability to produce a rugged crop of facial hair in the time between breakfast and smoko should go just to thank Field for his efforts and concerns for our plight. Everyone else should just go for the art. Image: Shannon Field, Lydia Munro 2011
Berlin-based New Zealand artist Michael Stevenson's artworks seem to come at you from every angle, and not only in the literal sense. His sculptures, like The Gift which is a raft made from, among other things, bamboo, a World War II parachute and National Geographic magazines, are wild and multilayered and his video works, which combine allegories via audio over rhythmic visual motion, are insightful, funny, confusing and mesmerising. Stevenson's going to confuse and mesmerise us even more with his new retrospective over two layers at the MCA. While the show will present a range of work from over the past 10 years, Stevenson also considered the space itself an installation and he's taken to carving up the museum's precious walls. The skeleton of the MCA, parts that were hidden until now, will be revealed and co-exist with the rest of his artwork in an unusual intermingling of seen and unseen, planned and unplanned. https://youtube.com/watch?v=je0ue-o_ZtY
The esteemed anthropologist David Harvey believes, "the freedom to make and remake our cities and ourselves is … one of the most precious yet most neglected of our human rights". He called on all social groups to assert their 'right to the city', and curators Lee Stickells and Zanny Begg are doing just that with the upcoming Tin Sheds exhibition, symposium and publishing project. But it's not just the 'right' to the city they're interesting in, but how to get out of the concrete jungle, i.e. the escape plan. From the whimsical to the serious, and with social connectivity and sustainability in mind, artists, artist collectives, architects and engineers come together in The Right to the City to present real or invented ways to 'remake' the city. Australian artists Claire Healy and Sean Cordeiro consider public and private space; New Zealand artist-engineer DV Rogers will construct and occupy a relief shelter for the show; UK-based Sophie Warren and Jonathan Mosley, artist and architect, construct situations and imagined architecture; Milkcrate Urbanism, an artist collective from Sydney, aims to engage with the people that actually inhabit the spaces in which they work; and Temporary Services from the USA will show Public Phenomena, their 10-year research into inventions people make in public. The Right to the City symposium runs 10 – 6, Saturday 9 April at the University of Sydney Faculty of Architecture, Design and Planning. https://youtube.com/watch?v=UhqD3az9cZ4 Image: Sophie Warren and Jonathan Mosley, Beyond Utopia
There are some things you can hear about, some things you can ken from a tv tube, pair of pc speakers or a sharply printed word. And then there's Fantine Pritoula's voice. Named after the mother of the better-known Cosette in the great humanist epic Les Miserables, Fantine has all the soul, all the fire, all the ever-present vocal power that her namesake lacks in fiction. It's hard to think of her as an emerging artist, but Fantine still hasn't had some of the high-profile exposure of other local acts. Wednesday night that changes, as she launches her first single, 'Rubber Room', by showcasing her talent at Goodgod Small Club. Fantine grew up in Russia, the Dominican Republic (a Spanish-speaking country on the same island as Haiti) and Perth. All these cultures, and more, mix in with her songs, her covers and her style. It's a surprise that she's only now producing her first single, after so much musical work around town. She's been promoting this show on the streets of Sydney, Mariachi-style. But don't be fooled, her shows won't stay this small for long. Get a listen in, while it's still possible to do it on a whim. Tickets will be on sale at the door on the night. Photo by Luke David Kellett https://youtube.com/watch?v=n5wgd-nOhaQ
Listening to the dreamy soundscapes of Beach House is a little like sitting in clouds of cotton wool. As if in a Gondry film, the world slows down, frustrations become gentler, the objects of your focus transform into something unique, kitsch, precious. It will be a singular pleasure then, to experience their cinematic sounds in the Hyde Park Barracks — a venue quite well suited to Gondry-style transformation. It's also convenient that Sydney is home to Parades, with their own form of meandering, glittering pop. The band should be almost as in demand as the headliners, considering their unfortunately canceled tour at the end of last year. Image: Beach House, courtesy of Sydney Festival
Are you a reality television fan? Did you mourn the loss of Big Brother when it left the airwaves? Are you a sucker for a good home reno show? Then you know that the best reality television isn't necessarily based on reality, it is that which revolves around the most heightened reality of drama. Dutch theatre makers, Kassys, knew this when they put together their production, Good Cop Bad Cop. Using physical comedy and playing with the most absurd aspects of that which is purported to be reality television, this production will leave you delighted and have you questioning everything you thought you knew about those popular shows on the goggle box. Most importantly, you will laugh at the false drama set up by the large personalities living in 'the house'. One of the best things about the Sydney Festival, other than simply the sheer number of events you can go to, is the exposure to creators, artists and ideas that you'd never normally see. So take advantage of the opportunity to see world class theatre, get your square eyes ready, and work out exactly which cop you'd rather be when you head to the Seymour Centre this week.
Ok now, what is it with Christian Bale starving himself for roles? Playing a crack addict ex-boxer, he's not quite as emaciated as he was in The Machinist, but not far off. Then again, he's just taken home the Golden Globe, so he must be doing something right. Sharing this golden glory is a very deserving Melissa Leo, who plays the ferocious matriarch Alice Ward in this true story that was simply made for the silver screen. With big hair and broad accents, the working class Ward/Eklund clan of nine (!) lay all their hopes at the feet of boxing half-brothers Dicky Ecklund (Bale) and Micky Ward (Mark Wahlberg). As the erstwhile town hero, the 'Pride of Lowell,' who once went toe-to-toe with the Sugar Ray Leonard, Dicky may be the aforementioned skeletal shadow of his former self, but that doesn't mean he's done hogging the spotlight. On the contrary, this larger than life character sucks all the oxygen from the room as his younger brother struggles to make his own way in the brutal world of boxing. Their inevitable fraternal falling out is helped along by Micky's strident, scrappy girlfriend Charlene (Amy Adams), yet Micky must ultimately decide who he wants in his corner for his world title bout. As a boxing film and family drama, The Fighter doles out just what the doctor ordered. It's astutely crafted, superbly acted and surprisingly funny alongside the requisite training montages and thickly applied themes. In fact in many ways, the film is akin to its lead actor Wahlberg: solid, committed and with just enough spark to ward off the blandness. It's Bale who brings all the bells and whistles to the film with his obnoxiously over the top performance, while Leo quietly steals her scenes out from under him. Adams is somewhere on the sidelines, furiously attempting to rough up her peaches-and-cream persona, and mostly succeeding. And though The Fighter is obviously a passion project for Wahlberg — himself one of nine children and a long time friend of Ward's — he wisely doesn't compete with Bale's pyrotechnics, focusing instead on getting ripped and getting thumped. Similarly, director David O'Russell (Three Kings, I Heart Huckabees) seems to have reigned himself in. This is his third collaboration with Wahlberg and yet he too appears to be playing second fiddle to this compelling true, albeit largely overwritten, story. But despite the fact that most of the edges have been buffed out — even with the presence of a crack addict &3151 The Fighter still has enough grunt make it a hefty cinematic contender. https://youtube.com/watch?v=Hwv7kT9P0mg
Is the program blurb not quite cutting it? What you've just seen not quite coming together yet? Or perhaps you'd just like to dig a bit deeper? Let's face it, art is not always the most transparent stuff. Occasionally, it takes a little more reflection - and perhaps a little extra reference material. With this in mind, Sydney Festival has Caroline Baum on board to take us between the lines. In this Microscope series, Baum will converse with some of the festival's key artists to get behind the processes and ideas at play. Those involved include Patrick Nolan, director of Legs On The Wall extravaganza My Bicycle Loves You, Grayson Millwood and Gavin Webber, the co-directors of the unconventional Food Chain, and Wayne McGregor, artistic director of Random Dance and responsible for the cutting edge work, Entity. The best part is that all these discussions are free! Check out the dates to make sure you don't miss out. Image: photo by Jamie Williams
Short film meets the sea for another year with the 20th annual Flickerfest, and this time they're boasting a pithy tagline: May the Shorts Be With You! Yes, pack a Star Wars inspired pun or two for your trip to Bondi Pavilion and get in amongst the creative force of the world's premiere short filmmakers. Whittled down from a record 1793 entries, this year's 100 strong programme looks set to be a stunning way to kick off your cinematic new year. Amongst the Australian entries for the Academy Award accredited festival is the World Premiere of The Telegraph Man. This World War II drama stars Jack Thompson, Gary Sweet and Sigrid Thornton and takes the similar point of view as the recent American tale The Messenger. Brendan Cowell fronts another World Premiere film, Bee Sting, about a father and son falling for the same woman, while audience will get the chance to experience Ariel Kleinman's superb submarine drama Deeper Than Yesterday, which won prizes at both Cannes and the Sydney Film Festival. Another prize-winner at Cannes, Serge Avedikian's animated Chienne d'Histoire is part of the an impressive international line up, which also includes the recently Academy Award shortlisted Ana's Playground and the Sundance selected Echo. Magnus von Horn's Echo — about two boys facing the consequences of their crime — is screening as part of the festival's Spotlight on Poland, which includes Bartek Kulas' Polish vision of a character from a Nick Cave ballad, Millhaven. Other programme highlights include a selection of environmentally conscious shorts screening as part of GreenFlicks, as well as documentaries, comedy shorts, the Flicker Kids specials and of course the Star Wars Tribute. The 1977 classic spoof Hardware Wars is a must-see (it's even George Lucas' favourite), while another affectionate tribute, Star Wars Retold, lets someone who has never seen the film take a crack at recounting the saga. As ever, Bondi is only the first stop in Flickerfest's national tour, so this great selection of shorts will be with us for quite a while after all. https://youtube.com/watch?v=ea0Cz-rSLi8
Mike Birbiglia is one of the recurring features of eclectic Chicago radio show This American Life (also often home to the assasination-loving and super-hero voicing Sarah Vowell, theatre-filling author David Sedaris and Pulizer owner Michael Chabon). He's been on Letterman and also makes regular appearances in the nerve-racking storytelling series the Moth. Birbiglia started his career doing straight stand-up, but over time he unwound his routine to revolve around longer stories. The stories are funny, unwind slowly and, like his Sydney Festival show My Girlfriend's Boyfriend, they're all about him. Birbiglia's tales are very personal. In his earlier tour, Sleepwalk with Me, Birbiglia explained how he sleep-jumped through a second-story hotel window while he was touring the show before. My Girlfriend's Boyfriend is named after one of his first high-school relationships, which included one extra boyfriend, who may or may not have been him. Previous performances of the show have inspired marriage and though Birbiglia doesn't guarantee you'll find yourself a soul-mate at every show, the pain in your sides leaving the Seymour Centre should be company enough.
It does not do Philip Glass justice to simply call him accomplished. Since the mid-1960s he has consistently pushed and redeveloped himself, moving from early minimalist experimentation into thoroughly modern renderings of baroque and romantic sounds. This sense of reinvention has seen Glass applauded by both the art music scene and mainstream Hollywood audiences. An Evening... is the rare gift of hearing some of Glass' latest work played by virtuoso cellist, Wendy Sutter, for whom much of it was written. There is a promise of a strange intimacy here, with the chamber duo matching recent, personal works such as Songs & Poems and Piano Etudes to Glass' earlier compositions for theatre. Expect a fight for tickets, as this is only an evening, but if you do want more Philip Glass be sure to watch as he performs his score for the film Dracula.
Arthur Wigram Allen was a photographic Pepys, chronicling his life and that of the city around him in the years before World War I. His collection — most of which is previously unpublished — is now on exhibition at the Museum of Sydney. Joining Allen's memories are artworks from Rupert Bunny, Ethel Carrick Fox, Arthur Streeton and Grace Cossington Smith, as well as numerous examples of fashion and technical objects, all of which help to form a patchwork record of Edwardian Sydney. It is hard to imagine a photographic archive of Sydney that doesn't include gangland murders, but here is proof that Sydney has seen gentler times. An avid lover of the theatre, boating and that new toy, the motor vehicle, Allen captures Sydneysiders living an exciting, joyous life upon the threshold of the 20th century. Image by Arthur Wigram Allen
Begone rain, clouds and generally cool conditions! It seems safe to say that summer is almost, finally, here. Time for all those warm adventures that Sydney has missed for so long: surf, sand and ice cold beverages. But if you're not quite ready to tackle those reddened backpackers at Bondi just yet, perhaps you'd prefer a more relaxed, evening option? The institution that is Moonlight Cinema, held in Sydney's thankfully protected Centennial Parklands, might be a more viable choice. This season's line up includes more than a few gems — the usual formula of summer blockbusters meets well-oiled classics. Highlights include the mind-bender Inception, biopic of Time's recently named Person Of The Year, The Social Network, and indie cult classic Donnie Darko. There's exclusive previews, including Denzel Washington in a runaway train thriller and the final film of the Millennium trilogy. And, of course, Breakfast at Tiffany's makes an appearance. You'd be wise to snap up tickets fast, before those Gold Grass seats disappear.
Science fiction doesn't always like engaging with death. Source Code director Duncan Jones doesn't have that problem. Jake Gyllenhall's Coulter, who seems at first like a drone pilot back from Afghanistan, finds himself suddenly on a double-decker train to Chicago, and seemingly in someone else's body. Coulter struggles to find a bomb on the train in a series of jumps into the past where he relives the same eight minutes over and over. But he's also trying to discover where he is in a bald present full of military technicians who don't feel like answering any of his questions. Jumping back and forth between sci-fi [spoilers] and the hazy surreality of dream, Source Code feels a bit like an acting exercise, constantly improvising a new version of the same scene. A lot of its essential parts involve people who won't talk about the past, but unlike Jones' previous Moon this makes getting into the characters a bit more difficult. Towards the end though, the film makes a brief crash through the territory of Alejandro González Iñárritu's crushing Biutiful, and brushes quite well through the same themes of fathers and children, imminent death and sober reflections on mortality. Reliving the same moment over and over has been played out many times, most nimbly in Star Trek and Groundhog Day. Films like the Matrix used to be consumed in piercing these apparently illusionary worlds and escaping closer to the real world, but since September 11 they've become more interested in the dream and dreamer, and less interested in the waking up. The zeitgeist is beginning to find reality unappealing to return to. Source Code owes a lot to the Matrix (one promo story [spoilers] in particular), and its biggest strength is its biggest weakness: uncertain ground under what is real, and what is dream. https://youtube.com/watch?v=_3QkJ_a1nlw
It's easy to forget Jack Nicholson is safe and well sometimes, and the reason is a classic 70s film by Italian director Michelangelo Antonioni called The Passenger. It oozes gloom and foreboding the way others flicks leak detonations or kisses. As a film, or even the inspired Iggy Pop song, it's a title that crams itself with coming menace. Sydney performance group the Deconvertors — who have brought you Aussie kitch as part of Loading Zone at the 2009 This Is Not Art festival, and The Hideous Demise of Detective Slate at last year's Sydney Fringe — are offering you a unique mobile dramatic experience, and just to lighten the mood they've named it The Passenger. It's not often a play asks you to accept a disclaimer before booking your tickets. The Passenger does this. It takes place in a real moving vehicle, picking you up near the old Glebe Town Hall before the actors drive you through the story, Sydney's backstreets and take you to the mysterious 'destination'. Driving carefully, the Deconvertors want you to live. But they may not want you to feel good about it. The only way to know for sure is book a ticket, stand on a quiet corner and wait for your ride. The Passenger offers four performances a night on Wednesday the 27th and Friday the 29th of April. Booking is essential.
Shakspeare's comedies can be a little confusing. As You Like It disguises its women as men, banishes dukes, romps in the forest and has quite a lot of sheep and their shepherds. Siren Theatre's production of the play starts slowly, but soon finds it's momentum. It accumulates comedy pat by pat, as much as the actors cake on makeup as the play rolls on. The cast start dressed in more sober 1940s gear. Getting deeper into the play, and deeper into the forest, the actors' faces become more dolled and more clown-like. The make up exaggerates and deepens their expressions, and red noses become a feature of the production. Shauntelle Benjamin's Rosalind, in drag, becomes a grinning extra from Deadwood, and Julian Curtis' Orlando gets messy attacks of David Tennant hair. In the background for most of the play is a trio of musicians. Ali Hughes sings, David Manuel percusses and Daryl Wallis plays piano. Music flows behind this prodcution — it's surprisingly well-fit. Unwinding awkwardly at first, but soon making a cool counterpoint to the action on the stage with songs echoing jazz or Kurt Weil. Other moments are deftly spanned by spare percussion. The three musicians barely enter the play, but as it progresses they become the soil on which the other action spreads. As usual in Shakespeare's comedies, the juiciest roles are the funniest ones. Kate Worsley and Alice Cooper are particularly good as shepherds Phoebe and Silvius. Cooper overflows with a thousand dorky points as the unhappy lover, and Worsley is perfectly broad-voiced, expressive and ungrateful. Anthony Weir has something of the Fisher King's Perry in him, swaying enjoyably from melancholy to wit as the sad-faced Jacques. Nick Meenahan is extra comfortable with his Elizabethan lines, delivering an effortless Touchstone the fool, with a fit and functional ocker accent.
A day and a half into October, near midnight, the people in the Mexican town of Patzcuaro take boats across the lake to the island and talk to the dead by candlelight. In Madagascar, people traditionally take ancestral bodies from tombs, wrap them in new clothes and dance with them. In Sydney you used to take a special train to Rookwood Necropolis, near Lidcombe station, and have a picnic there among the graves. Nowadays the bus gets you closer and Rookwood's custodians want the cemetery to fill with the living again, as well as the dead. To that end Hidden is on, mixing local artists' sculpture in among the sepulture and gardens of one of the world's largest cities of the dead. Hidden brings together over thirty artists in the grounds of the cemetery and in the chapel, inviting the public to wander amongst them. It's hard to talk about death, and one of the exhibition's sponsors is a non-profit who would like you to be able to do just that. But if you find you can't, let the art speak for you. Print a map, and get out among it. Image by mickou.
It would be deceptive to characterise So What? as a typical student theatre company. Rather than 'shy', 'brave' would perhaps be the best word. Despite limited years, they are unmistakably ambitious. Having tackled Shakespeare (a production of Macbeth is already under their belts), this company has moved on to another incredibly complex work. Adapted from Robert Dessaix's novel of the same name, Night Letters follows the escape to Europe of a dying man desperate to understand his own history. Rather than comprehending his story, however, he becomes entangled in the histories of others: both those who surround him and those who have inhabited the same place before him. Presenting this play as part of Mardi Gras foregrounds the fact that it pays attention to marginalised individuals, those who are otherwise excluded from the pages of the past. It is a surprisingly joyous act of celebrating their existence, while it inevitably mourns their tragedies. The strength of this production lies in what may initially appear to be its weaknesses. More eager to extend themselves than display skills mastered, more willing to tackle difficult scripts than stick to safe options, the members of this company expose themselves to dangerous risks. Taking this path, however, opens up the space to create a performance that is dynamic, playful and unpredictable. Potentially dull moments are infected with the actors' irresistible charms, while extensive scenes are stretched into absurdity, only to be poignantly pulled back into the immediate. Entrances and exits — a typical pitfall of student theatre — are managed seamlessly. Above all, the emotion of the script is carefully managed by director Christopher Hay to sidestep the issue of age and still deliver on the demands of the plot. In short, Night Letters is one to watch, and so is the company behind it. Image: Charlotte Green, Eleni Schumacher and Christopher Hay in Night Letters, 2011. Photograph by James Pang.
As far as boy-meets-girl films go, this one is a keeper. Not only does this film tart up the rather tired romance genre with an inspired thriller twist, but the chemistry between leads Matt Damon and Emily Blunt is downright electrifying. Add to mix a Phillip K. Dick adapted story which conspires to allow them to 'meet cute' on multiple occasions, and The Adjustment Bureau might just be the perfect date movie. Writer George Nolfi (The Bourne Ultimatum, Oceans 12) makes a confident directorial debut with his main man Damon playing feisty up-and-coming politician David Norris, who is set to shake up the US Senate if he stops sabotaging himself with youthful antics. On election night, David is mesmerised by the beautiful dancer Elise (Blunt), but 'the powers that be' – literally - get in the way to keep David on track. In a marvellous advertisement for Moleskines, David's fate is mapped out in a notebook and monitored by a band of mysterious, besuited men who all sport fedoras like they've stepped out of a film noir. Fans of The Matrix or Alex Proyas' superb neo-noir Dark City will be in familiar (if watered down) territory here, as David discovers the truth behind his 'fate' and is then forced to fight for his own free will. Damon is very well cast, with his effortless likeability and everyman quality, as well as the commanding presence necessary to carry the film. Blunt is given decidedly less to do; barring one lovely dance sequence, she is fairly firmly relegated to the sidelines, though sheer force of will sees her manage to make Elise three dimensional in spite of the annoyingly passive writing. Mad Men's John Slattery steps smoothly into his fedora-wearing role alongside a believably conflicted Anthony Mackie, while Terence Stamp is another piece of genius casting, playing fate's ominous enforcer. Great actors, an engaging, brain bending story and a series of clever chase sequences through New York City all point to the bright cinematic future of The Adjustment Bureau. However much like David's plan, this all goes terribly off course during the film's dénouement, when Nolfi decides to slather on his moral message so thickly it's almost suffocating. This atrociously trite conclusion threatens to ruin the entire film, but perhaps if we can just get a hold of the right Moleskine, we can make some adjustments, and it'll be like that ending never happened… https://youtube.com/watch?v=wZJ0TP4nTaE
The Imperial Panda Festival does strange art, performance and some general fringe. It emerged from the tail end of Lanfranchi's Memorial Discotheque and ran two packed small festivals in 2008 and 2009. Returning from a fallow year last year, the Festival is landing on Sydney in a bigger and better-funded incarnation. A new festival headquarters is being provided by the SMAC-winning Goodgod Small Club, giving this year's Festival a beating heart and an underground home. For two weeks in March, the Imperial Panda Festival inflates Sydney's regular creative miasma into a maelstrom of art and entertainment. Regulars return, like The Suitcase Royale (in part and in whole) and various incarnations of artist collective Cab Sav. But this year's festival is also home to the Campfire Collective's Moth-like storytelling evening, the Hanson-baiting Pauline Pantsdown and an edifying show explaining What Is Soil Erosion? Not to mention a series of free talks and some bartering art in the form of an Unwanted Music Swap and the mysterious Stock Exchange project — which matches strange bargains with stranger counter-offers. What more could you want, actual pandas aside? *Tickets for most events are on sale on the door of the venue on the night.
When he moved to Paris, US street artist Above went from the literal to the figurative and started signing his name with an arrow. Having started his career tagging trains in California, he began sticking up pointed wooden mobiles instead. A few years ago, he checked out Latin America's street art, where for a while he worked in paint instead of woodwork. In Europe, he hung his two-sided wooden arrows off edifices across the continent, decorated the Vatican, and put up arrows in every one of Paris' many arrondissements. Thursday night, he'll be putting on his first official Australian show, called Here Today, Gone Tomorrow at the Lo Fi Collective. The gallery show here in Sydney is pretty brief and unusual. Above travels on a budget and enjoys the social side of his artistic life much more than the financial. Potential buyers of his work have been asked to fill in detailed questionnaires on their lives and loves before he was happy to sell to them, and he's pretty uncomplimentary about what adding money to art does for the artist. Barring any surprise installations, this may be your only chance to get close to his work here for quite a while.
