Here is the next instalment in our series of reviews from Lisa the Festival Blogger. For this edition, she gives her thoughts on Run Lola Run at iiNet Films Afloat, Darling Harbour, Samsung Mobile Secret Shows, Fanfare Ciocarlia at the State Theatre, St Vincent at The Famous Spiegeltent and Kristin Hersh’s Paradoxical Undressing at the Bosco Theater.
“I like surprises. After Run Lola Run at Darling Harbour I was ready to run home but Franke Potente leaves you a bit breathless. The Bays – who apparently never rehearse – cruised out to the floating pontoon at Darling Harbour and settled in front of thousands. Using only a small laptop to reference the film, they relied on their trust and intuition to pull off what was an excellent result. You might have thought that such a large crowd’s attention would wane with German subtitles but no, The Bays collaborated to create tension and humour at all the right moments and the audience undulated with them.
So that was all a bit of surprise, but there was more to come. It’s a generous idea to program surprise shows at the Bosco Theater - it feeds into the spirit generated by the Festival and liberates us to take a punt and properly engage.
I got my first taste of the Gypsy Queens & Kings at a Samsung Mobile Secret Show and went to see them at the State Theatre the next night for Fanfare Ciocarlia. Flying in the face of pressure from the media to downsize and re-sculpt our bodies were two voluptuous flamenco dancers in their forties who oozed sensuality as they jiggled their boobs, wiggled their hips and did wonders for my self-esteem.
The gypsies made me think about the importance of tradition and how it helps tether us to the world and remind us what we belong to. In the isles of the State – from the minute they started playing – people celebrated being Serbian, Macedonian, Bosnian, Hungarian, French. Alive. A brass-heavy ensemble churned out gusty rhythms and was met by some crooners so consumed with passion they awakened souls (quite possibly all the way to Bankstown). Cocky trumpets were a garrulous focal point chasing notes across the stage and creating fountains of sound. Then we were all on our feet and the band was in the audience, taking a procession with them to the foyer like they were disappearing into the desert.
At the Spiegeltent, St Vincent came on stage like a dragonfly in an emerald green dress, all black curls, milky limbs, scarlet lipstick and patterned stockings. She reminded us of a young PJ Harvey as she stamped on her guitar pedals as if she was trying to squash a cockroach. ‘I’m a Libran, I don’t smoke and I love your country’ she cooed. Her drum machine was insubordinate and she joked that it if were human she’d fire it, but at least a machine can’t get drunk like most drummers. Charming, sardonic and super talented.
Kristin Hersh from Throwing Muse’s solo show is a glorious and quirky fusion of spoken word, music and multimedia. Her partner walked on-stage at the Bosco Theatre, placing her notes on the music stand, their young son shadowing each of his footsteps looking a little like Charlie Brown in his pillowy sneakers. They made their way to back of the tent and I watched them as much as I watched her. He absorbed her show as if he were hearing the stories for the first time, explaining some bits to his to keep his jet-lagged son awake. Unadulterated collaboration.
Hersh strummed her way through tales of performing gigs, of goths with knitting needles glinting in the lights at the back of gigs, lasers that might add to the theatricality of a show but have a negative neurological effect on performers, aliens yawning through sex (I’m not entirely certain I’ve remembered that correctly), wandering around songs. Lost. And how ambition is a boring tap dance to watch (which I’m certain I agree with).
Birthday Party guitarist Rowland S Howard’s partner offered encouragement from the stage fringes of the Bosco Theatre – ‘good thought’, ‘maybe not that one’, and she mouthed the words to every song. Another very real moment and yes, a Surprise Show.
Although it may sound trite, I do believe collaboration is what this life is all about and therapy is living in a culture where we connect. We see one another, know one another and – eventually – hope to understand each other. The artist on stage has a peculiar addiction to creativity. By saying what they need to say, or finding out what they are trying to say by saying it, it’s a passion that doesn’t diminish and for an audience it can be like an inoculation.“
“I like surprises. After Run Lola Run at Darling Harbour I was ready to run home but Franke Potente leaves you a bit breathless. The Bays – who apparently never rehearse – cruised out to the floating pontoon at Darling Harbour and settled in front of thousands. Using only a small laptop to reference the film, they relied on their trust and intuition to pull off what was an excellent result. You might have thought that such a large crowd’s attention would wane with German subtitles but no, The Bays collaborated to create tension and humour at all the right moments and the audience undulated with them.
So that was all a bit of surprise, but there was more to come. It’s a generous idea to program surprise shows at the Bosco Theater - it feeds into the spirit generated by the Festival and liberates us to take a punt and properly engage.
I got my first taste of the Gypsy Queens & Kings at a Samsung Mobile Secret Show and went to see them at the State Theatre the next night for Fanfare Ciocarlia. Flying in the face of pressure from the media to downsize and re-sculpt our bodies were two voluptuous flamenco dancers in their forties who oozed sensuality as they jiggled their boobs, wiggled their hips and did wonders for my self-esteem.
The gypsies made me think about the importance of tradition and how it helps tether us to the world and remind us what we belong to. In the isles of the State – from the minute they started playing – people celebrated being Serbian, Macedonian, Bosnian, Hungarian, French. Alive. A brass-heavy ensemble churned out gusty rhythms and was met by some crooners so consumed with passion they awakened souls (quite possibly all the way to Bankstown). Cocky trumpets were a garrulous focal point chasing notes across the stage and creating fountains of sound. Then we were all on our feet and the band was in the audience, taking a procession with them to the foyer like they were disappearing into the desert.
At the Spiegeltent, St Vincent came on stage like a dragonfly in an emerald green dress, all black curls, milky limbs, scarlet lipstick and patterned stockings. She reminded us of a young PJ Harvey as she stamped on her guitar pedals as if she was trying to squash a cockroach. ‘I’m a Libran, I don’t smoke and I love your country’ she cooed. Her drum machine was insubordinate and she joked that it if were human she’d fire it, but at least a machine can’t get drunk like most drummers. Charming, sardonic and super talented.
Kristin Hersh from Throwing Muse’s solo show is a glorious and quirky fusion of spoken word, music and multimedia. Her partner walked on-stage at the Bosco Theatre, placing her notes on the music stand, their young son shadowing each of his footsteps looking a little like Charlie Brown in his pillowy sneakers. They made their way to back of the tent and I watched them as much as I watched her. He absorbed her show as if he were hearing the stories for the first time, explaining some bits to his to keep his jet-lagged son awake. Unadulterated collaboration.
Hersh strummed her way through tales of performing gigs, of goths with knitting needles glinting in the lights at the back of gigs, lasers that might add to the theatricality of a show but have a negative neurological effect on performers, aliens yawning through sex (I’m not entirely certain I’ve remembered that correctly), wandering around songs. Lost. And how ambition is a boring tap dance to watch (which I’m certain I agree with).
Birthday Party guitarist Rowland S Howard’s partner offered encouragement from the stage fringes of the Bosco Theatre – ‘good thought’, ‘maybe not that one’, and she mouthed the words to every song. Another very real moment and yes, a Surprise Show.
Although it may sound trite, I do believe collaboration is what this life is all about and therapy is living in a culture where we connect. We see one another, know one another and – eventually – hope to understand each other. The artist on stage has a peculiar addiction to creativity. By saying what they need to say, or finding out what they are trying to say by saying it, it’s a passion that doesn’t diminish and for an audience it can be like an inoculation.“
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