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See article in its original context here by Lucy Graham for Weekend Notes.

Savages is a play about men. Ordinary men, like those you know. Men who are capable of unthinkable savagery. The world premiere of Patricia Cornelius’s latest offering is brutal, compelling and honest with no holds barred.

In the underground theatre space, fortyfive downstairs, the audience is taken on a downward ethical spiral when the perceived sexual prowess and desirability of four middle-aged men is thwarted on a boys’ holiday away. The rejection Craze, Rabbit, George and Runt experience is so bound up in perceptions of intrinsic worth that they are propelled into violent and predatory behaviour. Heaven help a woman who rejects the advances of men in packs.

And if you think is the stuff of fiction, think again. Playwright Patricia Cornelius has cited the recent Australian case where a middle-aged mother died after being drugged and sexually assaulted by a group of men in a cabin on a cruise ship. Yet none of the men were convicted of any crime.

Savages suggests that the use of predatory language to talk about women can easily plummet into acts of manipulation and violence. The scenarios surrounding and sentiments about women are as familiar as the day is long. From infidelity to servitude, separation, intervention orders, distant fatherhood, threats to harm children to hurt a woman, attitudes to mothers, signals of a woman’s value and worth are all put under the microscope, and the outcome is far from comforting for anyone.

Performances by all four cast members Mark Tregonning (The UFO Show – Uncle Semolina), Lyall Brooks (Urban Display Suite – High Performance Company), James O’Connell (Danny and the Deep Blue Sea), and Luke Elliot (The Lower Depths – fortyfivedownstairs) are dynamic. Characters are well developed with poignant back stories gradually emerging throughout the play.

There are many instances where a decent dose of bloke-speak and humour lighten the load. But gee, isn’t it easy to get away with murder with a blokey slap on the back and an appeal to entitlement.

Set design is minimalist in this warehouse space. A sloping timber deck with trap door and limited railing is utilized well. Lighting is sinister with a spine chilling soundtrack to boot. Patrons are seated in tiered rises along two sides.

Savages is disturbing. If your initial response to the show relates to the construction of lilting poetic layers of dialogue, as it was for one man sitting near me, that too is disturbing. This is a play with important things to say. Things that are too often pushed aside.

See article in its original context here by Kate Herbert for Herald Sun.

IN her confronting and poetic play Savages, Patricia Cornelius unveils the machismo and misogyny of a group of mates celebrating the “trip of a lifetime”.

Four men, all 40ish and with troubled histories with women, embark on a cruise, vowing to leave behind their ordinary lives, dull jobs, bad divorces and unfulfilling relationships so they can enjoy their freedom to the full.

Very quickly, the pack mentality emerges when tough guy Craze (Mark Tregonning) asserts his position as top dog and the others (James O’Connell, Luke Elliot, Lyall Brooks) fall into line behind him.

Cornelius’ thoughtful and skilfully wrought script deals sensitively with the difficult subjects of escalating male violence and the dangerous side of mateship and peer pressure.

On their first day on board, the men investigate their surroundings like animals sniffing out territory, all the time discussing – but not dwelling on – their disappointing lives, dreams and failures, women, work and fitness.

Cornelius avoids naturalism by using stylised language, poetic repetition and monosyllabic dialogue that the men spit out like rapid-fire, automatic weapons.

Susie Dee’s taut direction creates a menacing atmosphere without using overt violence, and the opening moments, when the men appear out of the darkness as grotesque beasts, has an overwhelming sense of threat.

See article in its original context here by Chris Boyd for The Australian.

It’s not a man-hating exercise either, even if the basic question asked by playwright Patricia Cornelius is: why do men hate women? Why do Australian men, of a certain age and a certain class, feel so powerless, thwarted and angry in the face of emotions that women inspire in them?

The four men, around the 40 year old mark, are fascinating. Surprising, too. Each has his flaws, but is genuinely likable. Though the men resort to date rape at the end of a long and frustrated night, Cornelius wants to explore what makes marauding men so attractive to women too. (It’s surprising the men don’t pick up after their stupidly likable karaoke number: “When a man loves a woman”.)

Cornelius’s greatest achievement in Savages – and I rate it as her finest play to date – is the way she tackles the banter between the men. At first, the repetitions are aggravating, the “Heyyy! Maaate! Whaddya say?” opening greetings in particular. But the script quickly settles into a free-form verse with weird, overlapping, off-centre rhymes. It’s incredibly clever linguistically, but it works precisely because the language is heightened. The dialogue is like a cross between Steven Berkoff and Caryl Churchill, and I’d be hard pressed to name two more brilliant and original dramatists writing in English.

Savages isn’t just a remarkable piece of writing, it’s a powerful piece of theatre at every level. Wrangled and choreographed by director Susie Dee, Marg Horwell (set) and Andy Turner (lighting) make exceptionally good use of a difficult space. Kelly Ryall’s visceral, skin-crawling music reaches a kind of apotheosis in the disco scene when it lets loose some cawing and unbelievably creepy sax samples.

See article in its original context here by Theatre Alive. Multi award-winning playwright Patricia Cornelius is the author of numerous plays, screenplays and even a novel. But did you know she initially trained to be an actor? For this week's…

See article in its original context here by Liza Dezfouli for artsHub.

This stunning, stylised work by one of our most original writers, Patricia Cornelius (creator of the radiantly eloquent Do Not Go Gentle…) explores the world of the hyper-masculine, mateship and misogyny.

Four Australian men leave for the trip of a lifetime on board a cruise ship; long-time friends, they’re out to have the best time possible. Using the Dianne Brimblecase as a reference, Cornelius asks how it is that some men come to commit awful acts. She shows how the culture of masculinity underlying our society is sinister, dangerous, aggressive and exploitative, and how it allows a pack mentality to dominate groups of men.

Her characters are given distinct personalities and we are given enough details and individual backstories, with a subplot woven subtly underneath the main action, to see how each man has been damaged and will damage in turn. The story portrays the men’s need to conform to male stereotypes, to hide their vulnerability, to fit into to an unspoken hierarchy of power, and it gives them all believable and familiar reasons for doing so. Anyone who’s had anything to do with male prisoners will recognise the types and their narratives. But these are ‘ordinary blokes’ and one of the most powerful aspect of Savages is how it shows ordinary blokes supporting each other in reprehensible actions, believing in bonds of mateship even while they are exploiting and lying to each other.

Runt (Luke Elliot) is a small man, not attractive to women and lacking agency but the kindest of the men. He is put upon and used by Craze (a menacingly powerful Mark Tregonning), becoming a joke to the others. Rabbit (James O’Connell) is unable to move beyond meaningless sexual encounters to find a deeper, more connected life, and George (Lyall Brooks) can’t stand up to Craze, even though he wants to claim his solitude and nurture his growing attachment to his new girlfriend.

See article in its original context here by Tim Byrne for Time Out.

Poetry and brutal masculinity may make strange bedfellows, but aren’t mutually exclusive propositions under the pen of a great playwright. AndPatricia Cornelius is certainly one of our best. Her new play follows four mates as they embark on ‘the trip of a lifetime’ aboard an unnamed cruise liner, and it doesn’t take a lot of time for the audience to realise that we’re not on the Love Boat.

In fact, it doesn’t take any. The opening moments, as the men climb over the back railing of the ramped deck and stalk the stage like ravenous wolves, is simply terrifying. All the menace and machismo that informs the rest of the play is evidenced in that opening dumbshow. A bone-rattling sonic boom (which will cleverly become the ship’s horn moments later) reaches fever pitch, and one of the men snarls the others off the stage and stands in animalistic triumph. As a lesson in setting tone, it’s hard to beat.

The play proper begins with a funny and telling meeting as the men prepare to board. In the script, Cornelius gives us an extended repetition of the greeting ‘Hey!’ Director Susie Dee has evinced a poetry of the inarticulate from her cast around this single, meaningless word, and the tone of jocular insincerity sets like concrete around us.

Before the mates are allowed to board, Craze [Mark Tregonning] insists they nominate something they intend to leave behind, a niggling discontentment in their lives that may prevent them from taking full advantage of the freedoms inherent in ocean travel. The dramatic irony at play here is the knowledge that whatever they nominate, they are incapable of abandoning their own natures. Any darkness they have is coming on board with them.

But while the brutality at the heart of men is the primal theme in Savages, the cast and the playwright manage to squeeze a lot of humour out of the scenario. One scene has the men setting up deckchairs and relaxing in the sun before the need to compare scars takes over them. Another finds great levity in the lack of room in the cabin. Conversely, the awful karaoke rendition of ‘When a Man Loves a Woman’ didn’t work for me, not least because bad Karaoke is excruciating even when it’s intentional, but also because it breaks tension precisely when it needs ratcheting up. The bad dancing in the ship’s nightclub works much better, and isn’t comic in the least.

Savages article in Geelong Advertiser on Saturday 17 August 2013.

See article in its original context here by Stephen A Russell for The Lowdownunder.

Stephen’s 2 Line Review – Savages – A Brutal, Yet Darkly Humorous Pick At The Scab Of Male Violence Against Women. A Searing Script is Commandingly Navigated By Deft Direction And Four Muscular Leads.

The stark, underground space of fortyfivedownstairs lends itself well to physically demanding theatre, given that actors have to manoeuvre a perpendicular audience, as well as four obstinate pillars, while delivering their performance.

Patricia Cornelius is no stranger to robust theatre, and her latest play, Savages, positively relishes the challenge. Directed by long-time collaborator Susie Dee, the text drips with a dark poetry that the four leads, Mark Tregonning, Lyall Brooks, James O’Connell and Luke Elliot, dance around with muscular charm and faultless timing.

As the play opens, hulking Craze (Tregonning), sex-addicted Rabbit (O’Connell), short-arse Runt (Elliot) and the elusive George (Brooks) embark on a cruse, hoping for the trip of a lifetime in order to cover up the barely concealed disappointment they keenly feel over their own personal lives.

An enormous sloped wooden deck crowned with railing dominates the tight stage, standing in for the cruise ship, with the four leads constantly pacing its decks. Whether boisterously working out, boxing, racing or dancing, somehow all four manage to overcome breathlessness to deliver each line pitch perfect in what is surely and arduous task.

While the audience is initially enticed by their bullish antics, tensions soon begin to boil, and it doesn’t take long for the facades to slip, allowing a distressing glimpse of deep-seated misogyny and a patriarchal pack mentality to creep out of the fissures. In these depressing political times, the resonance of Cornelius’ script is particularly charged.

Rabbit idolises his father as some kind of Superman, but his immediate example is to recall the time his dad hurled his mother across the room. Craze professes his love for his wife and kids, even as George points out he’s divorced and she got a restraining order against him. Runt lies compulsively to match up to his mates, and George, seemingly the quiet romantic, doesn’t resist when the men set out on a merciless prowl.

Drawn from the terrible events that led to the drug overdose death of Dianne Brimble on a cruise ship ten years ago, which led to no prosecutions, Cornelius cleverly avoids didacticism, instead initially beguiling the audience, drawing them into their larrikin stunts and bandying around a great deal of black humour, even as the wheels begin to fall off. Dee runs with the rich opportunities afforded, and the simple yet effective staging allows a mesmerising and simultaneously terrifying focus on the actors.

See article in its original context here by Joe Calleri on his blog.

See article in its original context here by Rosemary Neill for The Australian.

Eight years later, coroner Jacqueline Milledge made a formal finding that Brimble was “drugged by unscrupulous individuals who were intent on denigrating her for their own sexual gratification”. Despite a drawn-out court process, none of the men charged or investigated in relation to the Queensland mother’s death was jailed.

Melbourne playwright Patricia Cornelius says the case “had an incredible impact on me and was one of the reasons I wanted to write about men and their behaviour”. The result is Savages, a short, sharp, sometimes shocking play that, as the press release puts it, explores the dark side of mateship.

Cornelius stresses that although her play, which opens tomorrow at Melbourne’s fortyfivedownstairs theatre, was partly motivated by the Brimble tragedy, “it is not the story of Dianne Brimble. Yes, I was interested in a case that absolutely bruised the national pysche — I think we were appalled at how little justice appeared to have been done.

“This is an absolute investigation of men in packs and, whether they be on a boat or a footy trip or wherever they go, it’s about their impact on each other and the notion of no restraint.”

Savages is set on a cruise ship and features four male, 40-ish characters who want to let loose on a “journey of a lifetime”. As they ratchet up the hooning and testosterone-fuelled horseplay, the frustrations and disappointments of their daily lives are coaxed into sharp focus.

Cornelius uses a heightened realism — at certain points, her characters howl in unison — and a bleak humour runs through her script. The dramatist says of this: “I wanted to look at that behaviour that we’ve tolerated for so long, that we condone and are sometimes a bit bemused by — the larrikin, the naughty boy, all that stuff we forgive. I wanted to have a very unforgiving look at the sort of behaviour which, in the end, can only end in disaster.”

Brimble is not mentioned and no crime is depicted — the script relies for its impact on the audience’s prior knowledge of the case. Here, the dramatist took her cue from the Rowan Woods feature film The Boys, which references the Anita Cobby murder without depicting it. Referring to the film, Cornelius notes how “the audience knows the boys are going to abduct a woman, because they have been shown what they are capable of. I thought that was a really wonderful way of not sensationalising the terrible things that were done to someone. You don’t go there and you don’t need to, because the audience is totally in the know. So definitely I was influenced by that approach.”

See article in its original context here by Simon Plant for Herald Sun. CAN a woman write a tough play about modern Australian men? Patricia Cornelius has been asked that question during the writing of her latest play Savages. "Some people…

See article in its original context here by Stephen A. Russell for The Age.

Drawing on the death of Dianne Brimble on a P&O cruise ship more than 10 years ago, and the slew of sex scandals swirling around Australia’s football codes, award-winning playwright and novelist Patricia Cornelius explores the dark heart of man in her latest work, Savages.

Making its debut at fortyfivedownstairs next month, the play focuses on four mates, Rabbit, Runt, Craze and George, who embark on a holiday cruise of a lifetime that instead turns to tragedy. A cautionary tale, Savages explores what happens when men who cannot articulate personal disappointment behave appallingly, and the willingness of society to overlook or even condone this behaviour.

Cornelius says she wasn’t interested in lampooning these men, or engendering anti-male sentiment. ”I knew I had to seduce the audience with these bad fellows, otherwise why would you stay to the end?” she says. ”They’re not inherently evil. They’re sort of pathetic, and humorous. There’s a sweetness at times, not much, but you recognise these traits that we excuse in male behaviour, that larrikinism. The victim often becomes more victimised.”

Picking at the scab of exaggerated masculinity and entrenched misogyny, the play is delivered in a darkly poetic rhythm that electrifies, while positing the question: what happens when four men with pent-up frustrations are let loose on a ship, with too much booze and something to prove?

Cornelius extensively researched the Brimble case, in which the 42-year-old Brisbane mother of three died following an overdose of the date rape drug ”fantasy”. Her body was discovered on the floor of a cabin shared by four men, with a further four implicated, though none of the subsequent prosecutions ended in a jail term.

Taking cues from Rowan Woods’ 1998 film The Boys, Cornelius looks at just how easily mateship can lead to a pack mentality in the wrong circumstances.

See article in its original context here by Rohan Shearn for Australian Arts Review.               Queen Provocateur Moira Finucane and her boudoir of seductive chanteuses have returned to the underbelly of Melbourne’s forty-five downstairs presenting the…

See article in its original context here by Benjamin Starr for Visual News. Stephen Nova’s paintings look like the work of an architect gone wild. Classic cottages sit perched atop unnervingly tall scaffolding and impossible (and often treacherous) landscapes. This…

See article in its original context here by Jacqueline Bublitz on Broadway World.

I will admit that I am not a fan of modern burlesque. The renaissance of this art form in recent years, and its subsequent rise in popularity with global audiences has somewhat confounded me. Beautiful and talented though burlesque performers may be, it still seems to me a rather limited expression of the female experience. As women we are so often sold the concept that bodies are an art form in and of themselves, yet we remain the only naked ones in the room. Burlesque as I’ve seen it tends to play into this theme. No, the women don’t technically get naked, but they perform and tease as if this is the ultimate goal – and coy or commanding, they are always playing to the fully clothed.

Enter Moira Finucane and Jackie Smith, the creators and directors of GLORY BOX: PARADISE, who take this art form and turn it on its head. And then set it gloriously, deliriously spinning. For Finucane and Smith, nakedness is not a device or a promise; it is not an offering to an expectant audience. Rather each performer owns their nakedness on stage, a nakedness that is itself presented as an essential fact. Women have bodies. And yes, they can be beautiful to behold. But not just in the constrictive, passive way beauty is so often presented to us. This is not beauty designed soley for the gaze.

Deep? You betcha. I’ve seen an earlier incarnation from the GLORY BOX team, and had some time to consider their art and effect – and I’m still thinking about it now. At the beginning of this performance Finucane, the sinewy master of these ceremonies, quips that three elements are required for art and its audience – passion, liquor and unrealistic expectation. There is no doubt my expectations are high after the revelation that was their 2012 Melbourne show. But it is dry(ish) July for this reviewer, so I’m approaching this new show with said expectation and passion, only.

To my sober(ish) delight, Finucane and her troupe of women don’t disappoint. The same wit and humour is present, as are the impressive tricks with hula hoops (the dynamite Jess Love) and handkerchiefs (um, how does Ursula Martinez do that last part?!). Holly Durant, Lily Paskas and Yumi Umiumare are all terrific, engaging dancers, and there are winks and nods to traditional burlesque through-out (feathers and glitter and tassels all make appearance). But each is a leaping off point to something deeper, something far more interesting. Sometimes the leap is into a darker humour, sometimes it is into the unknown. When Finucane shivers and jolts through “A Sunny Afternoon” the audience is given the unique opportunity to follow the performance through to their own conclusion. Vulnerable, defiant, desperate? The decision remains ours to make.

                  Paul Newcombe featured in Jetstar magazine. See article online here.

                              Paul Newcombe featured in July edition of Time Out. Click here to article online.

                              Paul Newcombe featured in Melbourne Review, July 2013 edition. Click here to view online.

See article in its original context here by Liza Dezfouli for artsHub.

The latest extravaganza from the much-awarded Finucane and Smith is every bit as subversive, erotically charged and hilarious as its predecessors. A loyal congregation in Melbourne attend The Burlesque Hour and Glory Box ‘church’ at fortyfivedownstairs each winter to be surprised, outraged, affirmed and delighted by the ideas and challenges thrown at them by a range of unique performers and guest artists.

Glory Box is perfectly at home here, the singular theatre environment adding to the Alice Through the Looking Glass experience of the night. Much red lushness provides the backdrop of Glory Box: Paradise, a gothic ‘burlesque macabre’ of a show which is many things, pure entertainment being one of them.

A special treat in this year’s line-up is Yana Alana (aka Sarah Ward, one of Melbourne’s much-revered cabaret performers) with her deliciously outrageous ‘Pussy’ song. ‘Candy’ sees Finucane shirtless, in rock anthem mode, duetting with the glamorous Alana – Finucane lean, demanding, unfettered and frenetic against Ward’s luscious, silky diva. An intriguing contrast: which woman do you watch?

Yumi Umiumare’s commandingly physical performances take you elsewhere altogether as she deconstructs images of the Oriental and the mystical with some unforgettable visuals. Ursula Martinez’s infamous ‘Hanky Panky’ act is astonishing. The drag king elements are hugely amusing, Quick Change Sex Change being one of the rudest things you’ll see on stage this year. Her Majesty the Dairy Queen is a staple of The Burlesque Hour and still outrageous, while Jess Love’s jaded hula hoop dancer is a turn-up for the books.

See article in its original context here by Dione Joseph for Australian Stage.

On a miserable Melbourne winter night when public transport fails, puddles lurk for the unsuspecting pedestrian and the skies are determined to weep; there seems little choice but to find solace amidst scarlet lanterns. Luckily, Finucane & Smith’s fan-furling stiletto strutting magic concocting troupe do more than just provide solace – they create a mesmerizing world of cabaret at its best.

The atmosphere at fortyfivedownstairs was the perfect combination of glamour, music and pulsating sex appeal; and considering the show is titled Glory Box…Paradise, this seems reasonably appropriate.

A night of cabaret by experienced performers and provocateurs replete with circus tricks, dramatic monologues, fantastical costumes and some excellent choreography, made the collective whole orchestrated byFinucane & Smith a very entertaining night.

Moira Finucane is to be lauded for the charismatic dynamo that she is. Unwavering in her commitment to expose and exude raw femininity she has remarkable stage presence, a valuable skill especially as on the night sound problems meant much of the words were garbled. Sultry and sexy her variety of work reveals an expansive repertoire with some iconic classic performances including the grand milk smattering finale.

Tokyo Terawatt Yumi Umiumare only performs two solo pieces but they are exceptionally crafted with detail to attention and pace that creates riveting performance. While the show is jam-packed with unforgettable moments there are clearly some acts that are better than other’s. Ursula Martinez’s superficial red handkerchief show is formulaic and unfortunately while Jess Love’s circus tricks are deft and skilful, they seem to be shyly clichéd in comparison with the grotesque and macabre extravaganza set out by the creators.

The music and visuals are a feast for the senses. There seems to be a little of everything from underground Japanese techno beats to disco and rock-n-roll to music hall; and while each performer’s strengths vary, it is a perfectly arranged collection of work to stimulate, titillate (let’s be honest) but also to engage. Sarah Ward is an absolute knock-out and her incredible rendition of Hot Stuff is the perfect party-pumping anthem to end the night.

See article in its original context here by Kate Herbert for Herald Sun.

Finucane & Smith’s Glory Box: Paradise is so sexy and contemporary it’ll set your bouffant hair on fire.

                                                    The Australian, Monday 15 July 2013.

                      The Age, Monday 15 July 2013. View online version here.

"In short, you will laugh, you will be inspired, you will think, and things will get messy..." Myron My, Theatre Press. See full article here.

See article in its original context here by Anne-Marie Peard for Aussie Theatre.

Patricia Cornelius is a playwright, novelist, film writer, writing teacher and dramaturge, a founding member of Melbourne Workers Theatre, and a mentor to many emerging playwrights.

Her many awards include the 2012 Patrick White Fellowship, the 2011 Victorian and NSW Premier’s literary awards, the 2003 Wal Cherry Award and 10 Awgies (from the Australian Writers Guild).

Her next play is Savages, which runs at fortyfivedownstairs from 16 August to 8 September. It’s also produced by fortyfivedownstairs.

Patricia is working with her long-time collabor, director Susie Dee, on Savages, which is about a group of men and masculinity, misogyny and the dark side of mateship. She talks with Anne-Marie Peard about the inequity of male and female characters, writing for actors and reminds writers to see lots of theatre and read lots of plays.

What made you want to write this play?
I have written a number of plays that take on the issue of gender. Most of them have concentrated on young women but there have been so many dire incidents with groups of men in teams and on tours and on trips in the news that I wanted to take them on. I wanted to make sense of these men individually and in a pack. Many of the real incidents in the news have made an indelible bruise on our national psyche. They were powerful and called out to be explored.

How long did it take you to write it?
I’ve lost sight of how long. It takes such a long time now to get a work on that the process of workshopping and rewrites and tinkering go on for it seems an age.

Savages is a story about men written and directed by woman; do you expect anyone to comment on this?
I do expect some reaction but I can’t be bothered with it really. Men’s business is solely the domain of male artists? Why should it be? I think that male and female artists should look at both genders in their work. Part of the problem with too many plays is that female characters are poorly represented and all playwrights need to address this inequity.

You’ve worked a lot with director Susie Dee? Tell us something about working with her? Who wins if you disagree?
Susie Dee is a fine director and she’s also a friend. The friendship means we’ve had the luxury of talking about theatre for decades. We argue of course but we agree about the essential elements that make great theatre. We both love actors and she is great at enabling them to take the material into terrific and powerful and funny territory. She likes text and can make it sing. She’s unafraid of going deep and will try everything to make a scene work. Neither of us is sentimental which means we like to cut to the chase.

See article in its original context here by Cameron Woodhead for The Age.

Musical theatre whiz Dean Bryant has created a string of successful cabaret shows based on the lives of famous pop stars.

In Sweet Dreams, it’s Annie Lennox who gets the treatment. Unlike Bryant’s previous subjects Britney Spears and Madonna, Lennox has obvious soul and the songs – from her time as half of the synthpop duo the Eurythmics to her solo work from the early ’90s – are of equally evident genius.

That frees collaborator Michael Griffiths to channel the Scottish songstress in a relaxed and charismatic act of manifestation, and Bryant to weld the music to biographical material without striving for satire.

It’s an affectionate homage that embodies Lennox’s androgyny and reserve, her modesty and the direct expression of emotion through her music without resorting to cliche.

Interview 3: Mary Lou & Greg Ades. from fortyfivedownstairs on Vimeo.

Interview 2: Mary Lou & Greg Ades. from fortyfivedownstairs on Vimeo.

See article in its original context here by Mandi J on her blog:  That Book You Like.

It’s been a little while since I last attended an art exhibition, and even longer since I’ve been to one of my favourite Melbourne venues, Fortyfive Downstairs. Last time I visited 45 Flinders Lane, it was to see one of my heros, Samual Johnson in a three-person play The Haunting of Daniel Gartell. It was a fantastic evening, and I’ve been looking forward to a chance to visit the venue again.

This week I had that chance, and this time it was to share in an experience; a raw, beautiful and moving experience. Tuesday night was the opening of Lisa Sewards’ first solo exhibition, White Parachute. This stunning show, featuring works on paper, paintings, objects and installations explores the memories of the artist’s mother who, after having spent five years of her young life in a displaced persons camp in northern Germany shares her experiences of uncertainty, loss and hope.

It jars at first to hear “I”, “me” and “my” from his lips – not only for documented facts, but also for personal feelings and thoughts – when describing such a well-known star, who is not only female but also very much alive to tell her own tale. But this discomfort soon fades as the songs and storyline take the main focus.

A remarkable performer himself, Griffiths not only has a fullsome voice and total mastery of the keyboard, but he plays with heart-rending passion that breathes new life into the songs that have entranced millions of fans for more than three decades.

And if you think you know all the Lennox songs and don’t want to her a wannabe pretender, think again; some of the subtle and sensitive arrangements that Griffiths plays highlight aspects of even her better-known works that are missed in more complex electronic forms.

How about Love is a Stranger in a ragtime beat? While Who’s That Girl was sung with such jealous rage that the floorboards quaked. Plus Griffiths includes a number of lesser-known solo songs, such as Little Bird and Walking on Broken Glass.