Showing posts with label Melbourne theatre. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Melbourne theatre. Show all posts

Friday, July 23, 2010

The Elephant in the Room


Had a wonderful evening at Theatreworks in St Kilda last night. I needed a social night! A colleague's husband, Bill starred in the play An Elephant in the Room. It is a good small piece, but surprisingly not a two hander as I had expected from the reviews. The two leads needed the support of the multi-role players to convey the plot and interpersonal relations which become the focus of the plot. I enjoyed seeing younger unrecognised (by me) actors on the stage. It is always heartening to see how many very talented professionals the Melbourne scene nurtures. What does dismay me, however, is that the big commercial companies seem to have a blind spot for using only a 'select' group of mature actors, therby excluding talent such as US trained Bill.

This is perhaps the actual metaphorical 'elephant' that is in my life at present, the inability of sheer, talent, guts and determination is not enough for mature workers. Despite continued rhetoric of skills shortages, elongated working lives, need for recognition of mature workers knowledges and experiences... and in the Academy a hysteria with respect to under-supply of qulaified staff, it remains networking and nepotism that ensures a painless transition into the workplace at an older age. I would hasten to add that the very nature of our workplace experience is a factor actually mobilised systemically to disciminate against our employment. Despite the EO legislation there is no way to ensure that systemic and attitudinal discrimination is not the determining factor of employability.

Why are there so many overseas-born, Australian trained newly qualified Doctors (PhDs) employed at our Universities? Is it that with youth comes an ignorance of reasonable workplace demands? Is it the awareness that passion, coupled with the fear (of the newly settled employee) that any requirement and expectation from the employer is unquestioningly complied with?

Is it the very work-life balance that mature workers seek which is the 'elephant' standing in the way of employment? Can knowledge and experience ever be valued equally with willingness to be exploited?

What is going on here. On the one hand we have a Federal governent investing heavily in local- based PhD candidates, then not ensuring the employers are 'encouraged' to utilise the human capital and investment of the previous three-four years? This is a call for positive discrimination in the direction of

a) older workers, to ease the social security burdon on the State in years to come as the boomer generation is disproportionatley represented in the 'retired' workforce.

b) Australian-trained PhDers into tagged early career positions tied to the University who received the benefits of the federal funds to train these post-graduates.

c) recognition that older women's academic careers have often been delayed/interrupted by child-rearing, or family carer duties more often than their male colleagues. Queensland Unis seem to be the only Instiututions that recognise this form of systemic discrimination by tagging Post DOC fellowships and Academic positions... what's wrong with Victorian Institutions?

d) Finally, an overseas-based fellowship targetted to these Aussie PhDers so we can take advantage of the of the globalised higher education industry.

So, the 'elephant in my room'... why beat myself up to finish the doctorate in a timely completion schedule when there is ZERO encouragement to pursue and academic career, after so many years of study, personal commitment and private debt? How can younger women and men (academics) from two-income families with extended family support networks ever be able to empathise with those of us from the lower socio-economic groups (usually due to carer responsibilities and isolation) ? How can the establishment ever recognise how the accepted practices are actually gatekeping mechanisms to maintain privilege and power.

Sunday, July 11, 2010

Sydney biennale and laying to rest the past.



Today has been a wonderful day, filled with sadness and extreme happiness. The day began with a sweet/sour goodbye to my dear friend N in Sydney as i boarded a plane to make it back to another dear friend's big day. My friend Kerry was to perform her one -woman show at a local theatre in front of selected guests and a camera crew from the ABC's Australian story. For Kerry, a great stand-up but no trained actor this was a major event, despite it being somefour months prior to her scheduled opening at a Melbourne Fringe venue. To have a film crew in the audience was something a seasoned pro would find daunting, especially given the script was still in workshop stage.

I am proud to say she nailed it. The material is so strong. Everyone is caught up in the moment; a friend doing the extraordinary. I am proud of her, just conquering the nerves and having the strength to face her demons publicly, especially considering her nearest and dearest were hearing events from her perspective for the very first time. Emotionally this was a momentous occasion for Kerry, her daughters and her ex-husband. There were tears shed in the auditorium as complete strangers were given a privileged insight into the Victorian justice system.

Even Kerry and her director, underestimate the potential power of this piece. As my friends know only too well, the acting teacher/director/performer and professional theatre reviewer still cannot sit inside a theatre auditorium and shut down the critics voice. Yet, today I became the dramaturg... another role I am comfortable in. However, this was not the role expected of me. I was to be the friend, caterer and general support crew.

I just find this impossible to do. I cannot switch off the producer/marketing head space. I know Kerry is sitting on a hit. Big time! It could do a national run easily.
But how do you speak to people so invested in a project? My dear friend asked my opinion as everyone (and that is literally everyone... oh yes except one regular theatre goer) gave Kerry such glowing feed back. We were all caught up in the emotion and success of the achievement.

Stupid me. I managed to avoid giving feedback at the venue when I discovered her director had very set opinions about the style the piece should take. In one sense she is correct, especially if Kerry is the 'talent'. However, I know this is bigger than that and needs a professional hand guiding the tiller. How can you discuss a project objectively when everybody ibvolved is too invested (and amateur).

Later when all the 'normal' people, the non-theatre people had returned home to their comfy suburban existence, Kerry and I sat together toasting a successful event.

I state again here that I am so proud of her accomplishement.


But then I made the mistake of being honest when she asked for my input. I was very cautious, trying to explain my point of view, but the moment I even hinted that the piece needed a dramaturg and professional actor.... well I lost my friend. The whole ownership issue and creative products is a fraught issue. Only the most successful palywrights (like Joanne Murray-Smith) know that for the piece to 'fly' the mother has to let go.

Only then in workshop can the writer see just what a gem she has created. How many great works falter at this first hurdle because writers/performers think that they alone can make the work 'fly'. I would say this is true at every level of the Industry, from Melbourne fringe to Hollywood blockbusters.

I guess this is why I no longer work as a theatre critic. I have made too many enemies by trying to be faithful to the potential of the work rather than the individuals involved.

I learned many years ago that no matter how good I thought I was, there was always someone better than me.... even with my own stories. I have learned the skill of letting go. It is painful but a necessary severing for the art to happen.

I want this piece to make its presence felt nationally, but I do not want my friend hurt or feeling inadequate. I am so conflicted. It really is none of my business... but basically I am still the woman prepared to mortgage her house to option a script, as I did in the eighties. I was defeated then... (Neil Armfield did the film, and unsuccessfully in box-office terms) but am too timid to take on the heartache again.

I guess I value my friendship with Kerry more... does that mean I am finally growing up?

Thursday, April 29, 2010

Ah how calm it is...


Does anyone remember The Honeymooners? If so I would have started with that old Jackie Gleason catch phrase "How sweeet it is!"

Yep, today was another small step on my journey to full wellness. I had my first hypnotherapy session. It was fantastic. The best description is like a very calming guided meditation session. I can actually remember most of the salient points, and suggestions. The idea is that we (Dr Caroline Llyod and I) are attempting to bridge that gulf between the rational logical conscious mind, which knows everything I SHOULD be doing, and the unconscious mind, which seems controlled by impulsivity and instantaneous gratfication.

If this is successful it will be the nearest I can conceptualize to magic. No matter how much Cognitive Behavioural Therapy I attempt, and being able to identify the irrational thoughts, negative self-talk and highly charged emotions hidden beneath these words, I seem unable (unwilling?) to completely counter the negativity. It must be so safe in that space where sabotage can claim victory over success. Why else choose to dwell there?

We actually had to lay-out up front the whole bag of issues. I am/was fat because it deters the opposite sex from coming near me (which means I can't get hurt).

It also means that people have lower expectations of me. I am perceived as a lazy fat slob who gutses Maccas and chocolate every moment of the day. When people see that that isn't me, and whilst I can enjoy chocolate like most people, I do actually have a more savoury palate, leaning naturally towards fruit, vegetables and spices. My laziness is simply a complete lack of motivation and ability to fight the depressive episodes and self-destructive behaviours, not general 'who cares laziness'.

Also, when I first turned 50 I noticed that being fat rendered me invisible 'as a woman'. This was good. There was no pressure of expectations BUT along came the "obesity epidemic" and fat people were suddenly the new social outcasts, much in the same way smokers still are. It was suddenly deemed appropriate for total strangers to make comments on my body shape!

Bye, bye invisibility and anonymity.

So, today was also all about laying-out these root causes of my weight gain, and to look at the hypothetical situation (hopefully eventual) of me being thin and how that will impact on my behaviour, self-perception and my interpersonal relationships.

Just all of life's biggies, huh?


I reassured Dr Caroline that thinness will not be a magic bullet. I will be the same screwed up goofball, destined to repeat the same mistakes and problematic learned behaviours... just hopefully THIS TIME with my support crew (Caroline, Dr John, Dr Bill, Scottie, Julie, Felicity, Birgit, Angela and Dave) I can make actual progress like a 'normal' person. [See how many people are putting effort into me... and that's not counting my friends, and own self-commitment].

It is huge journey and with the PhD alongside it is quite draining and energy sapping. I never knew how hard it would be just to become healthy... but I am past the give-up-stage FOREVER.

As you can tell I am still on the positive axis (+2... that seems well balanced) and as a reward Glenice and I went to see The Warf Review (Pennies from Kevin) at the Whitehorse Centre, matinee.

Wow! To think that the brilliant Phil Scott, Jonathon Biggins, Drew Forsythe have written their ninth Review for the STC.

How privileged I was to sit and watch it in Vic, although I do miss that magnificent vista from the Warf bar looking out over the darkened harbour. The other exceptioanlly talented satirist and vocalist was actor Virginia Gay (ex-All Saints). She was terrific, particularly her cruel caricature of Amanda Vanstone, and the decidedly different character Penny K.D.Wong in Constant Cave-ins and of course her delicious Hermione Gillard in Kevin Potter and the Lower Chamber of Secrets. Other stand outs... Biggin's Pope, and Dumblegough; Forsythe's House Elf - Godwyn Gretch and his Canberra's Got Talent Nick Xenophon. The same sketch was superb with Biggins Bob Brown and his version of "Tell It To-ooo-oo Ya"

Haven't laughed so much in ages. And how great to sit where the entire show requires intellect to 'get the gags' and not performers simply relying on cheap slapstick laughs (although the Michelle Obama Motown Medley was a tad too Priscilla for my liking).

The one thing I am learning is when University is placed in its rightful position as ONLY ONE element in my life and only 38 hours a week maximum, there are so many opportunities to stop and simply enjoy living.

And yes, Jackie "How Swee-eet It Is".

Wednesday, April 7, 2010

Yesterday

A dear friend called and offered me a ticket to see Mamma Mia at the dear old 'Maj'. I knew that laughter would be the best possible medicine for me to lift my mood scales. I just had to get there. Amazing how once dressed and in the car the energy seemed to return like magic. As the torrential rain subsided and the sun made its presence felt I knew that the day would work out for the best, as I had successfully donned 'my outside world' face. This is the look that says, self-confident, don't f with me, and ready to take on anything. It brings sparkling eyes, fast repartee and an attitude of 'bring it on'. (all very +3) Very similar to manic-phase but only a temporary phenomenon with a major cost to pay on the down afterwards. (-2)

How challenging to enter the Maj after so long. I couldn't even remember the last time (I hate to think that it may have been 42nd Street, oh so long ago... but then maybe it was). I have been that disconnected geographically and economically from the Melbourne Theatre scene. What was once to painful to contemplate, buying a ticket and revisiting the scenes of my early hopes and dreams, was yesterday okay. I allowed the nostalgia to flow but not become debillitating or maudlin.

I knew I would be sitting in an audience watching a generation of performers (predominantly) that were strangers to me. That distance and strangeness, was at first disconcerting until I saw the caricatures in the bar! So many faces from the old days. Actual people I used to be on speaking terms with, and now I am a forgotten member of the (then) in crowd.

I always knew that live theatre is the playground of the affluent middle classes but that was certainly brought home with a vengeance yesterday. All those mothers who were able to afford children's tickets at nearly $100 per head for 3 hours entertainment! These were the Sorrento/Blairgowrie tourist-folk at play in town. The ones I avoid down here on holidays. How far I have become removed from the old lifestyle (and expenditure). Not necessarily a bad thing but quite a shock to the manic side of my personality. Oh for those shoes, clothes and regular city outings! Glad I wasn't in mania as I had checked out the hotel deals in town ($150 at Windsor would you believe?), and managed (dutifully) to pay my bills instead. I AM GETTING WELL... or at least able to approximate sensible thinking occasionally.

Loved the show despite its obvious limitations. Would have adored it more at night when only the grown ups were out to play. Mothers dancing in aisles with ten year olds just didn't drag me to my feet... Other fifties who had lived the seventies and the lycra.. now that's a different story. I was one of the first on my feet at Priscilla!

I miss the theatre so much, especially with the Comedy festival on and knowing that many of my old friends and acquaintances have the benefit of the 'pink dollar' and can just go beserk. It was so much a part of who I was.

On the downward drop this morning, it is more depressing that everything which could ensure my personal mental wellbeing has a dollar value attached, and that it is threatened by returning solely to disability pension. Private Health Insurance must stay, but so too must roof over head costs and car payments. Food less of an issue nowadays ;-). How great it would be to not have to think twice about planning for and budgeting for Fernwood, Yoga, Day Spa, Massage, even 'art therapy, my style... galleries and theatres, let alone social dinners out? Ah days gone by now sadly.

I am beginning to feel caged again. Caged inside my house unable to get out to the world. Sure I can walk down the shop 1 kilometre each way and splurge on a coffee but it is not same alone. I can no longer sit and read the daily broadsheet as I feel self-conscious that I am on my own and taking up table space (and 'wasting time').

I guess over the coming weeks and months there will be a lot of time to 'waste' as I am unable to work in a normal manner. My supervisor just tugged on my electronic (email) strings pointing out that I had been off the radar for six weeks (well yeah... that's the minimum hospitalisation time for breakdowns). I am now expected to just jump back up on the PhD horse and 'pull my proverbial finger out'... as if it were that easy... If only...