Coraline

Coraline è arrivata in una serata fredda. Fredda ma sorprendentemente leggera. Una di quelle sere uguali a se stesse, nella solitudine di ogni giorno e di ogni notte. Però contrappuntata da inusuali risatine solitarie nel silenzio. Risatine leggere e sciocche, da messaggi pungenti di amici lontani. Coraline è arrivata come una di quelle macchine del … Continue reading Coraline →

The room where it happens

When theatres reopened, I could no longer go. My Saturdays were taken from me by somebody else and here we are, months of prison later with nowhere to go to feel safe and alive and hopeful. I managed to sneak out only twice - or was it three times? - since March last year. I … Continue reading The room where it happens →

Locked-on

In my head I have written at least a dozen posts during this lockdown hell. Words never made it to the screen. Days flooded with trillions of chores, urgent needs, giving, preparing, tidying, cleaning, holding, reassuring, videocalling, crying, working, crying, texting, organising, surviving, medicating, providing, pretending, entertaining, worrying, crying, clinging on. Nothing much has changed. … Continue reading Locked-on →

À bientôt, Kabaret.

I went to get kicked in the heart again. I was prepared this time, though. And yet, I felt it all the same. I just had the chance to appreciate more fully the pauses and the crescendos and the half breaths at each punch. I saw the touring production of Cabaret the musical for the … Continue reading À bientôt, Kabaret. →

Back, at last!

I have thought long and hard about whether or not I should, or even could, write this. The thing is when one tries to say anything about Tim Minchin, brain goes into Tim-proof mode. As if my writing had to stand up to his personal scrutiny. Which is laughable, really. And paralysing. So, screw it, … Continue reading Back, at last! →

“Felicia, where the f*ck are we?”

I have been waiting to write this for about a month. My less-than-competent theatre reviews are the posts I have the most fun with. So, when I went to see a preview of the stage version of Priscilla Queen of the desert a month ago, I knew I had to see it again before I … Continue reading “Felicia, where the f*ck are we?” →

Sempre libera

Felicia stands on top of Priscilla, the queen bus sailing through the desert. A silver frock and eyelashes to die for. Violetta sings through her and the back of my neck tingles. I become the walls of the Orchard theatre, the red rocks of the Australian outback, the dust under the blue sky. I am … Continue reading Sempre libera →

‘In progress’

I suspect this is going to be one of those flood, 'intense' posts that make no sense no matter how hard you try. Still. Last night I went to see Nick Hayes performing solo in that cosy little gem that is the Crazy Coqs at Zedel and my heart is so full it's going to … Continue reading ‘In progress’ →

Shugyo

Today is when we see whether you really work. Today I take a hit again, a nice gift of meanness that hurts sharp and neat, that undermines and makes one quiver. So now you, beloved curtain, will have to embrace and pulverise this rage somehow. And on my way to find you, we'll see if … Continue reading Shugyo →

Microconnections

One year ago, this happened to me. For two hours my heart danced a crazy dance. The master of words, Tim-frickin-Minchin, liked my words. He liked MY words. I had not written anything in about a decade. It felt so amazing to be inspired again. It felt absolutely unreal that the source of inspiration would … Continue reading Microconnections →