Mothers - Review

Venue: Roxbury Hotel, 182 St John’s Rd, Glebe (on Friday 9th May at 8pm, Saturday afternoons 3rd & 10th May at 2:30pm; plus a special Mother’s Day finale at the TAP Gallery, 278 Palmer St, Darlinghurst on Sunday 11th May at 5.30pm)

Playwright: Produced by Joy Roberts with monologues written by Jane Cafarella, Chantal Harrison, Gillian Brennan, Julie Danilis, Kate Rotherham, Kate Toon, Kathryn Yuen, Michelle Wood, Neda, Vee Malnar, Serena Kirby and Peter Shelley

Director: Cheryl Pomering, Erin Gordon, Glen Pead, Kaye Lopez and Joy Roberts

Actors: Alannah Robertson, Charlotte Connor, Clare Tamas, Feda Dabbagh, Lisa Hanssens, Lynda Leavers, Rowena McNicol, Shabnam Tavakol and Shayne Francis

Images courtesy of Richard Farland - Farland Photography via Sirmai Arts Marketing

Theatre review
If you believe anything you see online, you’ll believe that motherhood is a fanciful, beautiful state of being, where the mother’s sole purpose is now for the child alone. It’s an Instagram post with a “lo-fi” filter, a Pinterest image tagged #inspirational. In short, it’s unrealistic.

But Mothers, a collection of new monologues, dedicated to motherhood, shows motherhood not from the rosy side of maternal bliss but from the real, raw and often times rough as guts angle. Produced by Joy Roberts, herself a mother, Mothers was created from a series of monologue submissions, and what we are given are brutally honest stories.

They are told through the eyes of nine main characters, all mothers, but different types of women. There’s the teenage mother, a young woman who tells us candidly, “I don’t resent her, I just wish it didn’t happen now”. There’s the immigrant mother, whose isolation and status as a mother also going through depression truly highlight what it’s like to be a stranger in a strange land (in every sense), and there’s the grieving mother coping with the loss of her child. There are so many elements in this production that it’s hard to pick a favourite, but one is sure to resonate with you.

The monologue that proved particularly telling was the one given by Shayne Francis, whose character finds that she is not as natural to the process of motherhood as she first thought. She talks of her frustrations over “mumtrepreneurs” and women who on surface look like they are doing well. She talks of the “Sisterhood”, who make motherhood look so easy. Perhaps this is a commentary on our view of mothers, and how we can’t simply see it from just the easier-to-digest angle, but that it should be looked at from a very realistic view.

Not that this play is meant to detract anyone from parenthood, or children, or families. But you will appreciate this very unguarded look at what nobody tells you in utmost honesty. That motherhood is hard. That there’s a notion around “motherhood” that makes is seem all Earth Mother, Wonder Woman, Super Mum. One character says, “I don’t hate my baby. It’s motherhood I don’t like”. It’s this exact sentiment that makes this production so valuable not just to current parents but also to any woman. You will begin to see that “motherhood” is about the journey women go from being women without children to then becoming responsible totally for the lives of their children, and how daunting, exhilarating and transformative this is.

High Windows Low Doorways - Review

Review originally posted at www.suzygoessee.com
Venue: TAP Gallery (Darlinghurst NSW), Jul 4 – 14, 2013
Playwrights: Jonathan Ari Lander, Noelle Janaczewska, Katie Pollock, Alison Rooke, Mark Langham, Ellana Costa, Melita Rowston
Director: Paul Gilchrist
Actors: Alice Keohavong, Helen Tonkin, Peter McAllum, Matt Butcher, Kit Bennett, Gavin Roach, Naomi Livingstone
Image by Zorica Purlija

Theatre review
Subtlenuance’s new production features seven monologues by seven different actors and seven different playwrights. The monologues are presented as a cohesive whole by director Paul Gilchrist, although it is always clear where each story begins and ends. The theme that binds them is the concept of spirituality, with a focus on the actors’ personal experiences, rather than their beliefs.

Common themes emerge. We hear revelations about family, religion and the metaphysical. We also see a sense of struggle that often comes into play in these reflections on spiritual lives. Naomi Livingstone’s piece starts in a space of hopelessness and pain. Her performance is heartfelt and sincere, with a powerful emotional quality that she tends to slightly over-indulge in. Nevertheless, the authenticity in her expression invites us in and helps us connect with her story. Ellana Costa’s interpretation of her story is well structured, and the imagery they create is vivid and uplifting. Gavin Roach’s style is vibrant and camp. The actor’s enjoyment of the stage and his eagerness in keeping his audience engaged, makes him the most entertaining of the group. Mark Langham’s script for Roach’s story is probably the most complex in the show, which helps the performer craft a segment that is more elaborate, physical and livelier than the others.

Matt Butcher’s piece about his grandmother is one of loss and longing. He craves an impossible meeting with her, and finds solace in his memories of their time together. Jonathan Ari Lander does a good job putting those recollections to words, and Butcher uses them to paint a bitter sweet picture of reminiscence and love. In a similar vein, Helen Tonkin recalls her father, further illustrating the link between family and spirituality. Assisted by Peter McAllum’s performance, their depiction of the father and daughter relationship tenderly demonstrates the depth at which childhood experiences affect our lives.

The trouble with monologues is that they are too often written without keeping in mind the other senses that an audience brings with it to the theatre. There must be a difference between reading a poem or a memoir on paper, and going to see a staged performance. There are instances in this production that feel as though the writing would have worked better in a book, but the personal nature of the material helps make the production feel earnest and accessible. There is a resonance that exists where people dig deep to tell personal stories, and in High Windows Low Doorways, the cast wants us to hear them, but the commonality of our experiences also makes us feel heard.
www.subtlenuance.com