So when life gives you lemons, you’ve got a choice.
You can either sit there staring at the lemons wondering what it means to be given a lemon, or wishing it was different: a cumquat perhaps… perhaps a bicycle or a love letter…

OR

You can start making lemonade. Read more

Subtlenuance is one of those rare companies that continues to contribute to the landscape of Sydney’s independent theatre scene. Most companies start, produce and finish before a significant body of work or practice can be established. This is not the case of subtlenuance – and I can’t help but have the impression that there is a strong intention to continue making – and providing opportunities to young and emerging writers – opportunities that just don’t materialise outside of the tight machinery of larger institutions. And I can’t praise them enough for that – as I firmly believe that it takes an audience to make a writer. Read more

There’s much I owe to Benito Di Fonzo, who seems to be quite intent on educating me on ragged and ground breaking word obsessives of yesteryear. Previously I had not really known nor acknowledged Bob Dylan as a pivotal pirate of wordsmithery – that is until Di Fonzo landed in my face a production of extreme adventure: THE CHRONIC ILLS OF ROBERT ZIMMERMAN AKA BOB DYLAN (A LIE). Firmly claiming the corner of the market on re-imagined long-titled docu-plays on famous rapscallions, Di Fonzo has introduced me to Lenny Bruce via the velvet voice of Sam Haft and a syncopated slam of a three piece jazz orchestra. Read more

In 1796, Sydney’s first windmill was built on Observatory Hill. Over The historic cobblestones of the Rocks in Sydney have had an unveiling of an epic variety – a windmill. In a nod to the wild imagination only Cervantes rivaled – the Harbour Foreshore Authority has imagined, made and re-created a Windmill in the centre of a square in the rocks. Read more

Nearly two hundred years ago 21 year old Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein or The Modern Prometheus was published in France with an anonymous author. Now, across the other side of the world and reconfigured by playwright Nick Dear, Mark Kilmurry’s own creation came to life on the stage of the Sydney Opera House.

The story is well known – through its many corrupted representations – but perhaps the most powerful cautionary tale about the consequences of creation. Read more

It was in 2009 when I first saw Tahli Corin on the train. A city bound morning train on the Inner West Line… She writing in a note book on her way to her job in the city, me struggling to find a seat whilst carrying several folders and bags as I used to then. I was moderately shy of her then… that was a long time ago: before I invited her onto the 428 bus for Stories from the 428 and after I had my heart broken and swept up again by her Sydney debut Bumming With Jane… that was before I had witnessed Tahli’s “One For the Ugly Girls” during NovemberISM (2011) and that was before I had become obsessed with the voyeurism of public transport A View From Moving Windows and after I realised that Tahli Corin just might be the Hannie Rayson of my generation… Read more

One of the great misconceptions I had when I embarked on a career in the arts was the idea that there would be a linear and upwards trajectory of achievement. It was a misconception which assumed that there was a natural order, a natural progression to developing as an artist… one which I have since wholeheartedly thrown out.

I don’t necessarily believe that there is a natural pathway for artists… perhaps for some there may be the smooth and predictable progression from school-yard encouragement to formal education due to main stage success… but for me it’s been a very interesting, logistical challenge of following my curiosity into unknown caverns and daring to have at the heart of any strategy regarding my career or art making a few slices of advice from Shakespeare: “to thine own self be true, And it must follow, as the night the day, Thou canst not then be false to any man” and from Wilde: “One should never do anything that one cannot talk about after dinner…”

So armed with two quotes and not really much of a plan, but to let art inform, guide and inspire my life I’ve followed my curiosity… and here I am. Read more

My 2012 started with playing guitar on the riverbanks of a small NSW coastal town. No, not in public. Not even close to the public. A free barbeque area and the occasional fizz of an illegal backyard firework in the near distance, a few singlet-shirted boys (drunk and mouthy) were as close to “the public” as I got… I was sitting with two men, two guitars waiting for my year to begin. I thought of how my “year off” (2011) had failed – busier than ever, I had managed to mend my broken heart, direct too many shows, write, speak publicly about issues and ideas that keep me up late at night.

My start to 2012 was a lot like teenage love: naive, full of star gazing and fumbling about on guitars.

The start to 2013 found me gently sobbing to perfect voices soaring through Gale Edwards’ production of La Boheme at the Sydney Opera House. Thanks again to kind Mr Waites, who yet again, furthered my education in opera – we consumed all the canapés and drinks we could handle and rubbed shoulders with his contemporaries/my heroes of Australian theatre. As the sky exploded in splashes of ecstatic decadence – I was in awe of the contrast of the previous year.

My start to 2013 was a little more sophisticated, a little less naïve.

I have been absent from the Blogosphere – you’ve noticed? It’s been a necessary hiatus but now in revision. Read more

One of the many joys and privileges of being on the Board at Shopfront is the relationship I develop with the emerging artists and members who are a part of the Shopfront community. I have been a board member since 2009 – and currently hold the post as Board Secretary. Besides strategic planning and signing papers and nutting out the finer details of the business, I have the great pleasure of interviewing the artists for the Artslab residencies.

Artslab is a 6 month intense residency whereby 5 or so emerging artists are exposed to different methods of working to create a show. It’s brilliant. And confronting… if you could make anything at all, what would you make? A question worthy of writers block. Read more

I love riding on trains. Always have. That feeling of motion – moving forward always – the rush and squeal of metal on metal. Hundreds of strangers pushed together, sometimes in silence, sometimes asleep, sometimes overhearing the conversations for other lives, the sound tracks of other people’s minds. For me it was the primary means of transport around Sydney and in my first year of living in Sydney I would remark to myself how often it would be that I would find on one train more commuters than the total population of my home town. Read more