Back to Back

The last few days have been a total whirlwind of sporting, musical, theatrical and political activity.

First and foremost, England pulled their finger out and beat Slovenia to go through into the next deciding round. As much as I feared for the English nation as I watched the match with heart in mouth, I also feared for the loss of my Australian nationality as I find myself utterly consumed by GO ENGLAND fervour.


The heat at the moment is a welcome change but it does remind me how ill equipped London infrastructure is for anything hotter than 18 celcius. This was evident on Tuesday night when I sweltered along with thousands of others at the otherwise excellent Brixton Academy for the Scissor Sisters concert. Jake and Ana's return to the stage was a triumph. Hot as we all were, their music and theatrics compelled us all to jump up and down for hours, complete with jazz hands and many ironic, bouffant hairstyles:


Back to Back Theatre have been on my radar for years. Based in Geelong, Australia, they provide a performance platform for actors with disabilities. Their show Food Court debuted in London at the Barbican last night. I'd been wanting to see see them for years so my expectations had built up accordingly. What a bummer it was then, when they all came crashing down. What to say? The piece seemed unfinished, as if the collective had workshopped it to a point and then ran out of time. The actors themselves were fantastic but the tempo and structure of the play let them down.

Note to dramaturg - no need to bludgeon the audience. We Get It. How about some humour? Even people with disabilties like to laugh.


As much as I've assimilated into being a Brit, I was relieved to find my inner Aussie was still very much alive on news that Julia Gillard was our new Prime Minister. And a red head at that!


On hearing the news I was shocked. Logging online, I quickly consulted the speediest news format available to me from Australia. Facebook. A cursory glance at the updates of all my Australian friends confirmed this swift reshuffle of the ALP leadership. There was nothing in the British news about this much apart from that fact that Julia was born in Wales.

Shame on you Murdoch. And you being an Australian too.

A new day has dawned in my (other)home country and the debate that is following fills me with hope. The inertia that surrounds politics seems to have been shaken off for now. A fervour lit by a Redhead is taking hold. Let's see what happens....

Pina Bausch

Pina Bausch changed my understanding of dance forever. When I first clapped eyes on her choreography, I was a teenager who was sick of tendus and plies but didn't know how to get past the strictures of classicism, nor the abstractions of contemporary. Pina stripped back the pretensions of form and showed that dancers could be individuals; nuanced and real. That dancers need not be dancing lines in the air but characters that speak, fart or fall down onstage. Her work was poignant, dark, wicked and funny. It influences me to this day.

For all the impact that she had on me, I'd never seen her work live. That drought came to an end when I scored tickets to Kontakthof at the Barbican. The piece was to be performed by two casts; one group aged 65+ and the other, teenagers. I plumbed for the oldies because how often do you get to see a group of pensioners in a major dance work?


Kontakthof, trans. - a place to make contact, to meet, was simply that. A dancehall where a group of people had assembled to play out all the games we humans play with each other. Taking my seat, I was afraid that up close, Pina's work would fall flat of my (sky-high) expectations.



I needn't have worried. The piece drew from me a range of responses. I laughed till I snorted. I wondered what the hell was going on. I wanted to know more about those people onstage. I felt uncomfortable by some of what I saw. I thought it was too long. I loved, loved, loved that the dancers were 65 and over. It gave me hope.

I walked out still a grateful fan and aware even more of her influence on my dance education.

RIP Pina. Thank you for the moves.

'Tis the Silly Season

Since I moved to London, I’ve come to experience the months leading up to Christmas as being high pitched and action packed. In anticipation of the holidays and perhaps in an effort to stave off the dark gloom of winter, the sheer amount of social and cultural activities for everyone seem to quadruple as does the desire to attend every single thing possible. It’s a marathon few months run at break neck pace. By Christmas, we are all exhausted and fall down post Xmas in a crumpled, sodden heap.

The lead up this year has been no exception, crammed full with catch-ups with friends, parties and shows galore. London at any time offers a veritable feast of rich pickings and in the last few weeks I’ve been to several shows. Here is a snapshot of each:

Michael Clarke Company

With Kate Moss as a patron, Michael Clarke Company is well situated in positing itself as the cool, hip kid on the block of contemporary dance. Presenting a revival of his 1986 classic, Swamp, together with a medley of pieces set to music by Iggy Pop, Lou Reed and David Bowie, Clarke had his unitard clad dancers performing gymnastic, Cunningham-influenced choreography that reminded me of moves executed by the Chinese gymnasts in Cirque du Soleil. Clarke’s ascetic, constrained style may appeal to some but I prefer my dancers with a little more expression even if it means a little less épaulement.



The Blind Boys from Alabama

I have always wanted to attend a Gospel revival and on a cold, winter’s night at the Barbican, I got my wish. The Blind Boys bounced onstage in their sharp white suits and showed us the meaning of puttin’ on a show. Slightly diminished in number (one had died the week before and another had been waylaid in transit), they nonetheless raised the roof with their rich, booming voices which resulted in a concert unlike no other. By the end the entire, and I mean entire audience were on its feet dancing, shouting, clapping, hooting and singing. If I could've bottled the atmosphere there that night, I think I would have captured the essence of joy. Eau de Joy courtesy of the Bad Boys. Hallelujah Amen!

Cat on a Hot Tin Roof

When the husband told me that we had tickets to go see Tennessee Williams’ classic play, I wasn’t sold. Unlike him I am not a sci-fi geek so the thought of James Earl Jones (voice of Darth Vader) starring as Big Daddy did not make my head turn. But there are worse ways to spend a Friday night so I went along. The minute the Big Man strolled onstage in Scene Two, a quicker reversal of opinion you never saw. His rich, mellifluous voice delivered line after gorgeous line which combined with a dynamite stage presence and solid, assured acting held me in thrall. Mid scene his stage prowess was in full flight; tearing up the boards and eating Adrian Lester for breakfast. His relative absence in Scene Three left a huge belly-shaped hole in the acting which made me want to shout out, Come back Daddy Darth! Show these youngsters how it’s done! James Earls Jones. The man’s got acting in his bones.



Susie Orbach and Marin Alsop

My friend Cassandra and I went along to Southbank last night to hear Susie Orbach and Marin Alsop talk about women in leadership. In 2007 Marin was appointed director of the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra and was the first woman to be appointed as such in America. Susie is a psychoanalyst, lecturer and well–known author, with the phenomenal anti-dieting treatiseFat is a Feminist Issue under her belt as well as the more recent, Bodies. She is also the co-originator of the Dove Campaign for Real Beauty and convenor of the website AnyBody. To cap it off, Shami Chakrabarti, director of the human rights organisation, Liberty chaired the event. In the presence of such luminaries we expected interesting discussion and we were not disappointed. Marin spoke about the complexities of being in a leadership role where she found herself a female role model simply because of the sheer lack of any others in her field. Susie was more keen to examine the psycho-social reasons why women still do not 100% feel they can grab hold of the brass ring. And that when they do, why their leadership style has to emulate that of men to be deemed as “real” leadership. After all, she said, Women have been leaders for centuries as guardians of the home but that intimate, complex style of leadership is not regarded as valid. Why? The night ended far too soon and we walked out, our heads filled with questions and a brightness of purpose that being inspired will do to you.

They say there is no rest for the wicked and that's true in my case as the week ahead brings me to see the sexy man of dance Carlos Acosta showcasing Apollo & Other Works at Sadlers Wells and also to hear the great Ranulph Fiennes, explorer extraordinaire talking about his adventures at the Royal Geographic Society.

I'm knackered but I can't wait.

The London Korean Film Festival 2009

A friend of mine works for a Korean animation company which amongst other projects is well known for Pucca, as in pucca up and give me one! Here is the little starlet:



The company have just sold a new animation called DreamKix which is about about footballing furries to French television. My mate has been kept busy with meetings in Paree and attending French film festivals. What a slog. Ooh la la!

Back in London, she is attending the London Korean Film Festival at the Barbican this weekend as DreamKix features in the program. Also featured is the opening gala of Park Chan-wook’s vampire flick, Thirst which apparently kicks some Twilight ass. I'm dying to see it (did you get that, dying to see it. Oh never mind)


If you are free you should get down there and see what those crazy Koreans are up to. After Old Boy, what could possibly be next?