The timing could not be better for the world premiere season of Phar Lap: The Electro-Swing Musical.
We’re a week shy of the race that stops the nation and, in a world where news just keeps getting worse, we need something, anything, to make us smile. Enter, a new musical written by Steven Kramer and staged with chaotic joy by Sheridan Harbridge.
The timing could not be better. We know the story: an Australian racehorse trainer takes a chance on a gangly thoroughbred from New Zealand with a promising pedigree. The horse loses its first races but then, with all the drive of the 100-1 underdog, emerges as the greatest racehorse of the century. Against a backdrop of sharemarket chaos and grinding unemployment, Phar Lap gives the nation a reason to cheer.It’s the classic rags-to-riches story, perfect for an uplifting musical, except for one thing: how do you do the horses? The answer: by letting imaginations run wild. Phar Lap and his horsey mates all talk, sing, and dance, tap, jazz, ballet and modern. The stage is bounded by stable doors and straw bales , while zany costumes embrace 1920s racecourse chic. The races come to life in the faces of the crowd and breathless commentary from silver-tongued Manon Gunderson Briggs. As for the climactic moments in Phar Lap’s track career, the thunder of hooves becomes inspiration for a series of hilarious dance-offs . Then, of course, there are the horse gags. Kramer corrals every pun with impish delight, from Phar Lap’s stable mates 1-1 and 2-2 to the touchy subject of the glue factory. Justin Smith as trainer Harry Telford and Nat Jobe revel in the quickfire back chat, while Shay Debney and Amy Hack do silly voices that never stop being funny. It’s barmy, it’s whip smart clever and it’s all delivered with thrilling conviction.I challenge anyone not to fall in love with Joel Granger in his role as Phar Lap. He arrives on stage as a Kiwi ingenue, anxious to please but happy to stay in second place. Then, galvanised by a new jockey with an erotic bent – leather, anyone? – he turns into a champion, radiating Phar Lap’s inner fire. All this is conveyed with some high-speed hoofing and suitably big-hearted ballads. The score – a pre-record by a crack music team delivered and, with flawless sound production – is inspired by 1920s swing, full of blarey trumpets and driving rhythms. There’s barely space for sentimentality, but Harry and Phar Lap’s duetis everything you’d expect from the Hayes – irreverent, funny, slightly chaotic – but the elegant story-telling, lovable characters and electric performances take it to the next level. No long faces here.promises not only to thrill crowds but also to educate them on the expanding boundaries of the genre, if its opening night’s pairing of Hiromi’s jazz piano with the classical chops of New York’s PUBLIQuartet is anything to go by. Hiromi plays in both senses of the word – her virtuosic ability is never in question but she engages with her instrument not with reverence but as an extension of her restless, playful character. From her opening solo, with its nimble echoes ofto her rolling, repeating cadenzas – often standing up and reaching into the piano to pluck or buzz the strings – Hiromi takes technical accomplishment and literally jazzes it up.That use of the piano’s full capabilities beyond the keyboard, paired with the audible sighs and inhalations that punctuate her phrasing, recalls Keith Jarrett’s total-body immersion in the music, though Hiromi’s version feels more exuberant than his solemnity. The collaboration with PUBLIQuartet builds on that same physical energy: their classical discipline tempers her improvisational daring, each shaping the other in real time.whose four movements follow our collective journey from Isolation to, or perhaps through, Fortitude. It is a work that depends on, and allows, the Quartet to really shine. Jannina Norpoth’s chopping, deliberately niggling violin and Hamilton Berry’s mournful cello lines evoke the seemingly endless stasis we all endured, while Hiromi’s piano captures those flashes of unexpected joy among our sadness. Written in lockdown, it finds added meaning when performed in this sold-out, rafters-packed hall., the combination epitomising the night’s jazz-classical conversation with humour and grace. Hiromi solo can stray into weightlessness; with PUBLIQuartet beside her, she finds just enough gravity to turn exuberance into substance.hits that high note, featuring an exciting line-up of heavyweights: Stephen Page, William Barton, Rafael Bonachela, and the up-and-coming Tra Mi Dinh. Their artistic voices are distinct in style, but the gorgeous commonality is that each is artistically mature and can evoke a sophisticated, satisfying artistic vision.. It’s structured into five chapters, “each a vivid ‘spell’ that creates dance alchemy”, Bonachela explains.While the through-line between each segment is not always clear, the spinning athleticism of Bonachela’s aesthetic and SDC’s god-like dancers never disappoint. A highlight is the last ‘spell’, a duet for a male and female dancer, performed in a towering cone of red light and mist . Visually striking, it also packs a searing emotional punch., an exploration of the period between day and night, with the dancers dressed in a spectrum of dreamy, saturated blue shades ., Dinh has reworked this rendition for a larger ensemble. The result is intelligent and polished, with the choreography transitioning seamlessly between a robust, pulsing energy danced in sneakers and smooth, spinning sequences danced barefoot. A scene from the dance work Unungkati Yantatja – one with the other, a multidisciplinary collaboration between choreographer Stephen Page and leading yidaki player William Barton. a multidisciplinary collaboration between choreographer Stephen Page and leading yidaki player William BartonBarton’s musicality and mere stage presence is nothing short of magnetic. A towering figure in a feathery cloak , his didgeridoo playing speaks with the command of an ancient, evocative voice talking from the edge of the human world. And when singing, he seems to be calling the very dancing into being. The combination – on just one stage – of Barton’s presence, Page’s masterful choreographic instincts, and the artistic excellence of the SDC dancers and Omega Ensemble is almost an embarrassment of riches.Two air hostesses, dressed in orange slacks and matching hats, unroll a line of tape across the stage of the Ensemble Theatre. It’s the line that marks the limits of where a woman can go in 1970s Australia.is the story of Deborah Lawrie, the first woman in Australia to become a commercial airline pilot. It’s a sprawling tale, part memoir, part courtroom drama, about the pitched battle between a talented 25-year-old pilot who happens to be a woman, and the rusted-on prejudice of pioneering businessman Sir Reg Ansett.In 1976 Lawrie, who has her first flying lesson at 15 and has 1600 flying hours under her belt, applies to join the pilot training program at Ansett. Despite impressing selectors at two interviews and passing the psychological test with flying colours, Lawrie is rejected. In 1978 she takes her case to the newly established Victorian Equal Opportunity Board and becomes the complainant in the Australia’s first sex discrimination in employment case.Playwrights Genevieve Hegney and Catherine Moore bring this epic tale to the Ensemble stage with humour, joy and just the right amount of bite. The action moves fast, in short scenes, cutting cinematically between Lawrie’s home and family, the control tower, the flying school, the courtroom and the economy cabin of a domestic flight. An airport flicker board suspended above the stage keeps track of where and when we are.Everything else – including over 50 characters – is up to the cast of five, directed with ingenuity by Janine Watson, aided by a stirring soundtrack and a treasure trove of 1970s costumes . Sex is delightfully irrelevant: Alex Kirwan doubles as Lawrie’s father, then Lawrie’s husband, but also dons a red wig and orange slacks to become Helen, the tearful 27-year-old Ansett hostie on her last flight before she ages out of the job. Meanwhile, and with delicious irony, Genevieve Hegney switches between a strutting Reg Ansett, a pregnant and therefore unemployed solicitor, and TV reporter Pamela Graham. Catherine Moore juggles hats, moustaches and lunch trays with aplomb and Emma Palmer is richly comedic as barrister John Dwyer. Through this all, newcomer Cleo Meinck creates a touching portrayal of the young Lawrie, passionate about flying and buffeted by prejudice.is a commission from Ensemble Theatre artistic director Mark Kilmurry who, after the success ofcontinues to tap the rich vein of nostalgia for iconic cultural moments. The script leans into the gloriously unselfconscious sexism of 1970s Australia, where women become “old boilers” after 21 and menstruation is a mental illness. But period observations aren’t just for laughs: the production builds in power across the second act, and as Lawrie’s fight plays out in court, we see the ripples of change coming for traditional female roles.Her claustrophobic kitchen with its florid wallpaper can barely contain the big personality that is Natalie Bassingthwaighte’s Shirley Valentine, a woman straining to break free.Within her cramped confines, and lubricated by a glass or three of riesling, the middle-aged Liverpool housewife overshares and wisecracks about her life, marriage, kids and clitoris. What happened to the adventurous Shirley Valentine she used to be before she became Mrs Joe Bradshaw? Will she have the guts to go to Greece for a holiday with the friend who has bought her a ticket? The answers are probably best known to audiences through the popular 1989 film adaptation with Pauline Collins. Bassingthwaighte is a firecracker of a Shirley in this one-woman touring show. She’s funny, capricious and insightful as she navigates her character’s transformation and the shifts from humour to pathos and back again. I saw the first London season of Willy Russell’s play in 1988. It was thrilling to see a story rooted in my home city that put the hopes and dreams of a mature working-class woman centre stage. She felt like our mothers, aunts, neighbours.What strikes me seeing the play again after so long is how, beneath the laughs – and there are many – are shards of a darker tale of coercive control than I recall.It’s this aspect that director Lee Lewis has teased out in her thoughtful production. We see Shirley’s jocular demeanour turn twitchy and anxious as she hears Joe arriving home. Her line about being beaten and battered is delivered with sufficient ambiguity to leave you questioning whether she’s not merely talking metaphorically. And when Shirley says she knows she’ll pay for running away to Greece when she returns, the sense of menace is inescapable. It’s clear that Shirley’s flagging confidence didn’t begin – or end – with marriage to her controlling husband, who expects his egg and chips on a plate the moment he walks through the door. There was the headmistress who predicted Shirley would never go far. There’s the grown-up daughter who returns home expecting Shirley to again tend her every need.The polymath Russell threads lively tales of other women in Shirley’s life, including of her neighbour Gillian, one of several minor character Bassingthwaighte convincingly creates.The shorter second half is set in Greece, in which Simone Romaniuk’s set uses the entire stage, and is sunnier in tone and appearance. Nearly four decades on, a stay-at-home housewife is a less common figure than she once was, and jetting off to Greece a lot less daring. Nonetheless, it’s impossible not to cheer as this spirited Shirley discovers the world beyond her walls.There are nights in the Blue Mountains when you gaze at the night sky with all the wonder of a child’s eyes. Hearing the Bill Frisell Trio is like that. A deep sense of mystery pervades the music, with notes from Frisell’s guitar flaring, glittering and then fading, to be replaced by fresh improbabilities. Jazz guitarist Bill Frisell with the other members of his trio, drummer Rudy Royston and bassist Thomas Morgan .Rudy Royston’s drumming is no less mysterious. Few people have played the instrument with a musicality so complete that he could solo with brushes on a slow ballad, and have at least as much of substance and relevance to say as Frisell or that master of understatement, bassist Thomas Morgan. Many others, from Pharoah Sanders all the way to Arvo Part, have made mysterious music, but few, aside from the late trumpeter Lester Bowie, combined that quality with such goofy playfulness. There were times during this concert when it was like watching three children utterly absorbed in the same sandpit. This is among the great jazz bands in its combination of personalities, sounds, ideas and interaction. They second-guess and surprise each other in equal measure, while often playing with candlelit intimacy, as if we’re eavesdropping on conversations that are no less private for being musical. There’s astonishing detail in the crafting of sounds and precision in the blending of them. Whereas last time they were here, in 2019, they played songs from the screen-music-orientedalbum, they were closer to the art of the miniaturist, and the exceptional sound mixing allowed you to catch the infinite subtleties emanating from all three instruments. They opened with flurries of arrhythmic notes, that, like random filings suddenly being attracted to a magnet, solidified into a blues: Frisell’s Thelonious Monk-influenced title track from. His playing was typically idiosyncratic in its sweet and sour harmonies, while Royston had the drums and cymbals singing, and Morgan growled and prowled around the lurching, swinging groove with the minimum of notes. The compositions segued into one another, whether blurring where one stopped and another started, or with bold leaps of contrast. The commonality was seemingly infinite options, from the gentleness and naivety of a nursery rhyme, to howling guitar against a jolting backbeat. Always the music was in flux – ranging all the way to Johnny Mercer’s, which they played with contagious fun. But, as with Burt Bacharach’s, there was no hint of satire; rather a celebration of these songs’ innate beauty, which somehow came into sharper focus without the distraction of lyrics. Constants were Frisell’s marriage of childlike innocence and sonic sophistication, Royston’s superlative command of timbre and dynamics, and Morgans’s ability to make each note precious and telling. A dream gig.has written about music and theatre since 1981 in more than 30 publications, including for Fairfax Media since 1993. He is also a playwright, author, poet, librettist, drummer and winner of the 2017 Walkley Arts Journalism Awardis a theatre critic for The Sydney Morning Herald. She is a former arts editor and writer of the SMH and also an author.
Australia Latest News, Australia Headlines
Similar News:You can also read news stories similar to this one that we have collected from other news sources.
‘Past doesn’t matter’: England desperate to rid of Aussie scars after Ashes humiliationCricket: Alyssa Healy is set to miss Australia’s Women’s Cricket World Cup match with England due to a calf injury.
Read more ”
‘Piece of automotive art’: McLaren’s fastest ever supercar to hit Aussie shoresBritish supercar brand McLaren is set to launch its fastest car in Australia – attached with an eyewatering price tag and jaw dropping top speed.
Read more ”
‘Frustrating’: Aussie star running out of chances as reality of World Cup squeeze sinks inCricket: Mitch Marsh was the key man with the bat as Australia win rain interrupted first match of ODI series against India
Read more ”
Aussie World Cup allrounders shatter England’s spirit in six-wicket routA glorious unbeaten century partnership between Annabel Sutherland and Ash Gardner has steered Australia to another World Cup triumph.
Read more ”
Aussie World Cup allrounders shatter England’s spirit in six-wicket routA glorious unbeaten century partnership between Annabel Sutherland and Ash Gardner has steered Australia to another World Cup triumph.
Read more ”
Kiwi stars shoulder ‘heavy burden’ as Aussie completes ‘daylight robbery’: Netball Talking PointsNetball: The Diamonds have produced a second half masterclass to take a 2-0 lead over New Zealand.
Read more “
