Tuesday, February 18, 2020

Perth Festival: Thirteen Ways to Look at Birds ★★½

Paul Kelly, James Ledger, Alice Keath and Seraphim Trio
Perth Concert Hall
15 Feb, 2020

The cumulative effect of things being awry at the performance of James Ledger and Paul Kelly’s Thirteen Ways to Look at Birds made for a frustrating, disappointing evening.
The recording of the same name won the 2019 ARIA for best classical album, and the snatches of it I’d heard on ABC Classic FM certainly augured well for its live performance.
Kelly has been a significant rock songwriter and musician for decades and has maintained both his quality and his popularity  – as evidenced by the capacity crowd at the Perth Concert Hall – so expectations understandably ran high.
The concept of the piece, too, was promising: a baker’s dozen of songs and instrumental pieces inspired by and featuring the work of famous and lesser-known poets on the subject of birds.
So the wings were all there, but, sadly, it just didn’t fly.
There were missed opportunities in the presentation of the material (I’ll get to them later), but the main culprits were technical and staging-related.
For some reason, the sound quality was below par. Kelly’s vocals, so obviously the central factor in appreciation of the material, was other-roomly throughout, a deadly problem for a singer whose voice, while very well suited to his own material, doesn’t have much cut or penetration.
The instrumental mix, too, was less than adequate. Anna Goldsworthy’s piano was over-amplified, badly affecting the sound balance, a problem exacerbated by co-composer James Ledger’s reticent approach to his guitar playing. Ledger is an estimable composer and musician, and watching him approach his instrument with such apparent caution was mystifying and painful.
No such problems with cellist Tim Nankervis, because it was all but impossible to watch him at all, hidden as he was behind a gigantic music stand that obscured his face and gave the audience only peek-a-boo glimpses of his playing. Nankervis and his megastand also obscured our view of Goldsworthy.
At least Kelly, violinist Helen Ayres and multi-instrumentalist and vocalist Alice Keith were clearly visible, but the damage was done.
The overall impression was of a lack of care in staging and production, and a kind of introspection in performance that was a slight on its audience. I’m sure that wasn’t the intention, but it was hard not to feel it.
Though poems and songs are two different beasts, and great poets are often lousy songwriters and vice versa, there’s no denying the quality of the material enlisted for this project. When it was fit for purpose, as in Thomas Hardy’s The Darkling Thrush, Glen Harwood’s Barn Owl and, especially, Emily Dickinson’s tiny, gorgeous “Hope” is the Thing with Feathers and Denis Glover’s The Magpies, the concert rose above its problems.
A.D. Hope’s The Death of the Bird is no song, but it’s a powerful statement of mortality and the great circle of life, and Miroslav Holub’s pitch-black, hilariously framed The Fly (translated here by George Theiner) is a historical novel in 33 short lines you should make it your business to investigate.
These works, and some others, made me wonder whether the structure of the show might benefit from having the poems recited – perhaps over some light musical prelude – before they are performed as songs. Apart from making the work clearer to the audience, it might often free the compositions up to do more than rigidly follow the poems as written, making them more amenable to the rhythm of the music.
Not that Kelly et al are likely to be disposed to take advice from a grumpy old bastard like me

Monday, February 17, 2020

Perth Festival: Ancient Voices ★★★★½

The Gesualdoz Six, The Giovanni Consort, Voyces and William Barton
Winthrop Hall
14 Feb, 2020

When Marin Mersenne, the father of acoustics, observed the similarity between the popular instrument of the 17th century, the viola de gama, and les voix humaines, the comparison implicitly recognised that the human voice was the greatest of all musical instruments.
No other has its combination of range and tonal subtlety; no other has its emotional force. No other has tongues to speak.
All those qualities were in full display in UWA’s Winthrop Hall when the visiting Gesualdo Six joined two Perth choirs and the distinguished Kalkadunga performer William Barton in a concert of sublime musicianship and generosity.
The Six, countertenor Guy Williams, tenors Joseph Wicks and Josh Cooter, baritone Michael Craddock, bass Samuel Mitchell and bass and leader Owain Park performed alone an exemplary repertoire of ancient choral pieces from Thomas Tallis, William Byrd and Nicholas Gombert, with more recent work by Francis Poulenc and Max Reger, that would have left any lovers of precise harmony and meditative musicology more than satisfied.
They also gave impressive readings of contemporary work, by Cheryl Francies-Hoad, the Canadian composer Gerda Blok-Wilson, and, in an early highlight of the concert, David Bednall’s beautifully-formed telling of the “fishers of men” story, Put out into the deep.
But it was the introduction of our own choirs, The Giovanni Consort and Voyces that extended the performance’s opportunities and took it to new levels of excitement.
The choirs showed they could go toe-to-toe with international ensembles, and there was considerable delighted pride evident in the audience at the quality of their work.
Beginning with interesting pieces by Alison Wills where the voices created the sound of wind in the wires as a storm gathered and the young composer Owain Park, and continuing with Benjamin Britten’s A Hymn to the Virgin and the Perth Festival commission, the intricate, almost subliminal 40-part Ode to Ode by the WA composer Cara Zydor Fesjian that the Gesualdo Six plan to include in their repertoire, the combined choirs excelled in some often very technically demanding ensemble work.
And they featured in the evening’s two high points.
The first was a triumphant Tallis’s Spem in allum, the first time the Gesualdo Six had attempted perhaps the greatest achievement of English vocal music.
And towering over all that had come before was a performance of William Barton’s Kalkadunga Yurdu, with the combined choirs, conducted by Hugh Lydon, reaching enormous heights behind Barton’s singing and didgeridoo playing.
He transfixed the audience from the instant his disembodied voice was first heard before he entered the hall to the pulsating climax of the piece with the choirs in full voice (some singing in overtone, the vocal technique that is the basis of didgeridoo playing) behind him.
For me this was its crowning moment of an ecstatic week where Iain Grandage stood collaboration, indigenous culture and performance front and centre in the Festival spotlight.
I have seen and heard many unforgettable things in the grand old Winthrop Hall, right back to the Indian maestros Ravi Shankar and Ali Akbar Khan in 1972, but I have never seen its audience erupt like it did at the conclusion of Barton’s piece.


Wednesday, February 12, 2020

Perth Festival: Black Ties ★★★½

by John Harvey and Tainui Tukiwaho
Ilbijerri Theatre Company and Te Rehia Theatre
STC Studio
Feb 13 - 16

It doesn’t take long to get the idea. The opening tableau of Black Ties is a series of gorgeous panoramic bush sunrises, with a chorus of native birds singing along to Edvard Grieg’s Morning Mood.

Then we meet the loving couple at the centre of the play, handsome Kane Baker (Mark Coles Smith) and blushing Hera Tapuwera (Tuakoi Ohia).

No need to fasten our seatbelts. We are not in for a bumpy ride tonight.

Sure, the path to wedded bliss has the odd thorn sprinkled among the roses that strew it, but the happily ever afters aren’t likely to be ultimately denied our young lovers.

Chief among the thorny questions that provide most of the play’s humour and all of its tension is obvious; what will two proud families, one Aboriginal, one Maori, going to make of this union of star-crossed lovers? Will the kids be able to steer through to safe waters, or will their families go all Capulet and Montague on them? Who will be the wise heads, and who will be the hot ones?
Read my complete review in Seesaw

Tuesday, February 11, 2020

Perth Festival: Buŋgul ★★★★

pic: Toni Wilkinson
Geoffrey Gurrumul Yunupiŋu, Erkki Veltheim and Michael Hohnen
Skinnyfish Music and Perth Festival
Directed by Don Wininba Ganambarr and Nigel Jamieson
Perth Concert Hall
7 - 9 Feb, 2020

Gurrumul Yunipiŋu, the blind, clear-sighted songwriter and musician with an unforgettable voice, died in 2017, leaving behind a saddened nation.
He left us a final gift, an album of songs that combined his own musical heritage and that of the western world, Djarimirri (Child of the Rainbow).
His kinsmen from the Yolŋu country of East Arnhem Land, and his collaborators on the album, the producer Michael Hohnen and the musical director Erkki Velthiem, have brought that album to the stage in an ecstatic union of music, dance, setting, technological wizardry and imagery called Buŋgul, and the result is simply a revelation.
The live performance, directed by Don Wininba Ganambarr and Nigel Jamieson and delivered by traditional voices and instruments and the West Australian Symphony Orchestra under Velthiem’s baton, seamlessly dovetailed with Yunipiŋu’s recorded vocals, reveals the music's full beauty and power.
Add to that some extraordinary visuals, the work of cinematographer Paul Shakeshaft and artists of Yolŋu country, designed by Mic Gruchy and played over Jack Nash’s landscape of a set, all lit by the magnificent illuminations of Mark Howett and you have an overwhelming environment for the music, and the dancers of the Yolŋu.
The performance begins with Bäru, the Wagnarian songline of the crocodile, with the dancers lying in a circle of sand, being painted for ceremony around a smoking mound that, seen from above in a projected image, is sharply reminiscent of JMW Turner’s explosive suns.
The live dance is mirrored in Shakeshaft’s films of the same dancers in Country, and the vivid colours and lushness of bush and seas makes their deep attachment to it axiomatic.
The music continues, reaching phenomenal heights in tracks like the pulsating title track, with its passages of exuberant tintinnabulation (John Adams comes to mind) and the glorious glissando of Gapu (Tuna Swimming), Shakeshaft’s camera skimming along the surface of the water, sometimes diving beneath, sometimes leaping above.
In my mind’s eye I could see Peter Gabriel with these songs and this setting. It was a perfect fit.  
The sun sets, red and glowing, in Djäpana. Octopuses glide through the water, the sails of the traders from Sulawesi appear on the horizon as they have for half a millennia, all caught in sights and sounds and the rhythm of the dance.
Finally, dark clouds gather in Wulminda, and the image of them pulls slowly back to reveal the face of Gurrumul in Guy Maestri’s Archibald Award-winning portrait, and his sightless eyes miss nothing.
If I have a reservation about Buŋgul, it’s simply that it has an embarrassment of riches. There’s occasionally a redundancy of sensation, in particular between the live and filmed dancers, which robbed a little from each, especially as these traditional dances are full of nuance and deep meaning rather than spectacle and variety.
Surround that with the wonderful imagery, the lighting, the orchestra, and you often didn’t quite know where to look.
But if that’s its problem, all but the greatest productions would love to have it.

Monday, February 10, 2020

Perth Festival: Hecate ★★★★

Adapted and translated from William Shakespeare’s Macbeth
by Kylie Bracknell and Dr Clint Bracknell
Yirra Yaakin Theatre Company
in association with Bell Shakespeare
Directed by Kylie Bracknell
Set and costume designer Zoë Atkinson
Lighting designer Mark Howett
Composer, musical director and sound designer Dr Clint Bracknell
Dramaturg Kate Mulvany
Subiaco Arts Centre until 16 Feb

One fell swoop (pic Dana Weeks)

Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.

Perhaps the greatest passage in all of Shakespeare, ‘Tomorrow, and tomorrow and tomorrow’ is the radioactive core burning in the heart of the nuclear reaction that is Macbeth.
I reproduce it in full for the sheer marvel of its genius: ‘To the last syllable of recorded time’, with its intimations of galaxies and eternities in seven words, never fails to astound me.
Leave aside its bleak part in the rise and downfall of the homicidal king, its withering insight into his character and psychology, or the opportunities (and histrionic perils) it gives to the actor performing it, these ten lines stand as one of the most powerful and formative achievements of the English language.
And it is language, more than plot, or character, or even performance, that makes Hecate, a skilfully reconstructed but essentially faithful retelling of Shakespeare’s tragedy entirely in the Noongar language of South-Western Australia, so remarkable.
Both these plays mark a critical moment in the histories of their respective languages. In Macbeth’s case, it comes at the apogee of the decade from 1597 to 1607 – from Henry IV to Antony and Cleopatra – when Shakespeare unleashed the full potential of the English language; in the case of Hecate, at the point where the ancient Noongar language rises back from near-obliteration to demonstrate its emotional power and continuing viability.
For this much credit is due to a band of senior Noongar people who kept their language alive (the Hecate programme notes that of the 30,000 people who identify as Noongar, only two per cent speak the language at home, although that number is rising).
In the context of this production, the grand endeavour of the former artistic director of Yirra Yaakin, Kyle Morrison, who, eight years ago, conceived the “Noongar Shakespeare project” that has already taken translations of the sonnets to the Globe Theatre in London, cannot be praised enough.
High among his greatest achievements is his willingness to gift the realisation of his dream on to others, to the director Kylie Bracknell, who, with her husband Clint, also adapted and translated Shakespeare’s text, and, finally (I understand), the role of Macbeth to the distinguished Noongar actor Maitland Schnaars.
Morrison’s reward, which he celebrated so exuberantly at the end of the opening night’s performance, was to see his work come to reality (and also, it should be noted, his own magnetic performance in a number of supporting roles in the production).
Now to the play (which, after all, is the thing).
One of the defining ideas of this interpretation of Macbeth is the elevation of Hecate to its title role. In the original, Hecate (in Greek mythology the Goddess of magic and witchcraft; in Shakespeare the sovereign of the ‘weird sisters’ who trigger Macbeth’s downfall) only appears very briefly – indeed there’s compelling technical evidence that Shakespeare may not have written the character, that may have been inserted later by another hand.
Here she (Della Rae Morrison) is the observer of all that befalls, a seer and a spirit protector of boodjar – the land, a comforter of the distressed.
Her witches are replaced by an ensemble of ‘mischief-makers’, played at one time or another by all the rest of the nine-member cast.
These changes by Bracknell and the dramaturg Kate Mulvany (my God, that woman must sleep no more!) give the narrative and staged action a fluidity and vigour in which Shakespeare’s original characters, Macbeth, Lady Macbeth (Bobbi Henry), Banquo (Rubeun Yorkshire) Macduff (Ian Wilkes) Malcolm (Mark Nannup) and Duncan (Trevor Ryan) live and die.
Their names are the only words in English – I lie, I think there’s one English phrase slipped mischievously into the script, like the single upside-down panel in an otherwise perfectly symmetrical Japanese temple frieze. 
And be prepared: there are no subtitles, and a plan I believe was once in place to provide a plot summary in English before each act was replaced by a synopsis in the programme. Bravo, I say!
Apart from those structural changes, the familiar storyline is told with little deviation from the original; Banquo’s ghastly appearance at Macbeth’s banquet is there, as are the murderers’ fell swoop on Macduff’s wife and pretty ones, the woods closing in on Macbeth and, in the end, Macduff’s revenge in a brutal fight to the death with hands shaped as daggers, superbly choreographed by Yorkshire and performed – danced really – by Schnaars and Wilkes.
The creative team for Hecate deliver outstanding results: Zoë Atkinson’s cascading set of rough panels, screens and abysses frames the action brilliantly, while lighting designer Mark Howett continues his triumphant Perth festival (his work on Buŋgul is simply amazing) with blood-red and ice-blue washes of dark colour across the set, faces and forms etched against the blackness behind.
I left Hecate with a selfish reservation. For many Noongar people, their language is in the process of rediscovery, and, unavoidably, its expression is a conscious effort that showed in sometimes-laboured delivery of the text.
After the show, though, in the wonderful gathering place created as an adjunct to the play in the Subiaco Arts Centre gardens (which, incidentally, I think of as my own boodjar, around which my children were born and schooled, my family lived worked and played), I listened to Bracknell and Morrison speak of their deep reverence for Shakespeare, of their love of their own language and the long challenge for it to return to that unconscious, natural fluency and eloquence it would once have had.
Hecate is one imperfect, sometimes halting, but courageous and ultimately triumphant step towards that goal, while we wait for a Noongar Shakespeare to emerge to unleash its full potential.

Saturday, January 18, 2020


Here we go again! Welcome to Turnstile's run-down of the shows we've seen at Fringe World 2020. 
These spot reviews will often link to full pieces either on Turnstiles or Seesaw Magazine. Shows that you can still see come first, those whose runs have finished follow.
I hope that all makes sense, and that what you're reading here helps you make some of those tricky "will-I-or-won't-I" fringe choices. 

Thunderstruck ★★★
Girl's School until Feb 16.
Whether of not you like that bruising caterwaul of an instrument, the Great Highland Bagpipe, you'll love David Colvin's semi-autobiographical story of a boy who grew up in its thrall, and the flawed genius who inspired him. Comes complete with a deliciously obscene Princess Di story.
Link here to my review in Seesaw

30 Day Free Trial ★★★½
Blue Room Theatre until Feb 8
Porn is everywhere, and it was only a matter of time and opportunity before indie darlings Charlotte Ottons and Andrew Sutherland tried their hand at it. Sort of. The result is slick, sexy and nowhere near as shallow and dehumanising as ts subject.
Link here to my review in Seesaw

A Special Day ★★★½
Girl's School until Feb 16.
May 8, 1938 is a special day for the occupants of an apartment building in Rome as Adolf Hitler rolls into town to meet Benito Mussolini. It will be a special hour for you if you see this lovely, superbly performed and inventive play from Mexico.
Link here to my review in Seesaw  

Bernie Dieter's Little Death Club ★★★★½
WA Spiegeltent until Feb 16.

Since an infamous night in 2013 when Bernie Dieter aka Bernadette Byrne aka Jennifer Byrne from Koln via London via Warrandyte (it's true - she's just a suburban girl!) sat on my lap in a spiegeltent and  crooned something torchy in my reddening ear, I've been a helpless acolyte, drawn like a moth to the flame of her fabulous showvampship.
This new show is the apotheosis of her talent, as a performer, and as an empressario. Unlike the previous, gloriously filthy but a little rag-tag LDC, this show is as tight as a drag queen's leopard-skin cheongsam. (the drag queen in question is Art Simone, the RuPaul Drag Con "Performer of the Year", one of four guest artistes only unmemorable because of the company they kept). 
There's a funky four-piece, all the production bells and whistles but it's all Madame Dieter, swallowing the spotlight whole with her impossible eyes, her jagged mouth, her daring original songs and her fabulous ability to turn an audience into cats confronted by cream. Jesus she's good at it!
We're lucky this year to have Meow Meow in town, Amanda Palmer (the artist most like Dieter in stance and talent) too when the grown-ups festival rolls into Perth. 
Do not, under any circumstances, miss any of them.

The Gods The Gods The Gods ★★★
De Parel Spiegeltent until Feb 9
Ragnarokkr ★★½
The Blue Room  until Feb 8
Two shows based on ancient mythology, both from companies with strings of hits behind them. One, from the Greeks is another bobbydazzler; the other, from the Vikings, not so much.
Link here to my omnibus review of both shows in Seesaw 

 On Stage Dating ★★★½
The Library at Girl's School until Feb 16.
Bron Batten is a dating machine, Ryan the accountant from the audience made all the right moves, and it all made for a swipe right night.
Link here to my review in Seesaw

Eurydice ★★★★
Shambles at the Pleasure Garden until Feb 9
Ye Gods –they've done it again! The gang who brought you the triumphant Orpheus last year are back with the other side of the great Greek myth.
Link here to my review in Seesaw

Amateur Hour ★★★★
The Rechabite Sundays Jan 26 – Feb 16
The South African duo Jemma Kahn and Glen Biderman Pam are bringing their wonderful The Epicene Butcher back to the Fringe this year (see below), but their late-night show is far from a throwaway. A deep dark take on talent shows, it’s terribly funny and more than a little savage. It'll be a hard ticket to get.

Franz Kafka’s 1917 short story, A Report to an Kafka’s Ape ★★★★½
Franz Kafka’s 1917 short story, A Report to an Academy, is made for the stage, and the resulting adaptation by Phala O. Phala (who also directs) of Ian Johnston’s translation is both true to the original and revelatory.
The story, a parable of the absorption of the outsider into the dominant culture, and the emptiness it results in, is given dramatic force and a fascinating horror because the outsider of the play is an ape (Tony Bonani Miyambo) who survives and escapes captivity by literally becoming a man. What he gains, though, is not freedom but merely escape, a way out. A free ape becomes a prisoner without chains, but with a great emptiness in his heart.
By all reports, Kafka’s story is an allegory of the “westernization” of Jews in Europe, but Phila and Miyambo have transposed it to the African experience. It’s an uncomfortable experience to see a black man playing an ape (Australian audiences will be drawn inexorably to the vilification of Adam Goodes in this context) but Miyambo’s performance has such dignity and self-respect that the insight and rare beauty of Kafka’s language is a joy to experience.
It’s a marvelous performance, full of technical quality and humour (a mild "beware the front row" warning is appropriate, unless you have fleas) and a must-see opener for the Fringe.

Body Rights ★★★½
Isn’t it a marvel that one of the most eagerly-awaited productions at this year’s Fringe World should be from the WA Youth Theatre Company!
 It’s all due, of course, to their spellbinding and brilliantly executed Rest, the winner of the Martin Sims award at last year’s festival.
While Body Rights doesn’t reach the heights of Rest, the strengths and sense of purpose of WAYTCO is on show once again with these four short plays about bodies and the right of young people to determine what happens to and with them.
WAYTCO’s artistic director James Berlyn created and directed three of the pieces: Will the story of a young singer facing an extraordinary decision as his voice starts to break; Adrian’s Soul, a series of one-on-one meetings between the audience and young performers with stories to tell; and ARCO an exploration of the life and thoughts of a person with autism performed by the autistic performer Adam Kelly.
The fourth piece, Boxed In, co-created and directed by Phoebe Sullivan, explores the work young women put into their bodies, and the fears that at least partly drive them.
The plays take place in two rooms at Girl’s School, with the staging, large cast and audience expertly mashalled by stage manager Anastasia Julien-Martial.
Adrian’s Soul is closest in spirit to Rest and ARCO provides the night’s most striking and euphoric moments, but all the pieces, and the whole production, are valuable, finely delivered and well worth your attention.

Talkback ★★★
It's devilishly hard to stage anything supernatural in a tiny black box theatre like The Blue Room, especially during fringe frenzy with no time to set effects, and especially when its a thriller. But director Elise Wilson and her actors (Monica Main a standout) make a decent fist of the story of a radio medium whose past literally comes back to haunt her.
Link here to my review in Seesaw

French Over ★★★
Izzy McDonald, the creator of the Martin Sims award-winning Bus Boy, returns with the story of a bonfire and the people who annually are drawn to it. Singular staging, a powerful cast (Alicia Osyka outstanding) and quality dialogue make for an interesting and touching piece, despite some structural flaws.
Link here to my review in Seesaw

Zack Adams: Love Song for Future Girl ★★★
I'm a huge fan of Shane Adamczak, the comedian, actor and writer and alter-ego of Zack Adams (as his name suggests), but, though Love Songs is funny, sad and a bit wise, I've got some reservations...
Link here to my review in Seesaw

The Epicene Butcher ★★★★½
The Epicene Butcher comes in an exotic form – the venerable Japanese story-telling art of Kamishibai, literally “paper drama”.
The show begins traditionally enough, with the story of a fat, cranky monk and a man who travels a hundred miles for the answer to life. Things get decidedly weird thereafter, with a brutally pornographic story of a hentai fantasy girl and the lonely boy who imagines her, and a grimly hilarious reworking of the now classic quest by Mario to rescue Princess Peach.
Most powerful of all is the title story, a haunting epic of love, perversion and cannibalism that silenced the audience. They stayed quiet for the wordless, black-and-white Fukushima, a sombre telling of Japan’s nuclear disaster. At the end, a rambunctious, irreverent telling of the life of Nelson Mandela in pidgin Japanese brought a happy crowd back from the disparate cultures and climes this extraordinary little show had taken us to.

Quokka Apocalypse★★★
A bunch of endangered native animals hatch a plot to destroy our water desalination plants and make us join them in extinction. I can buy that.Link here to my review in Seesaw

Orpheus ★★★★½
The best show at the 2019 Fringe, the exuberant, propulsive retelling of the Orpheus myth sat in a North-of-England Pub returns, along with two more shows inspired by those clever old Greeks, Eurydice and The Gods The Gods The Gods.
Make sure you see it – I bet you’ll want to see the others as well.
Here's my review in Seesaw last year. 

Coming soon to Turnstiles:
Ballads Banksias and Beauty
Adult Storytime #3
Star Power

Monday, November 11, 2019


I really appreciate you calling by Turnstiles to see what's going on in theatre and other popular arts in Perth.
Despite the absence of new postings on the site, I want to assure you that I'm not dead and that Turnstiles is also still alive, even if it hasn't been kicking lately.
There's a very good reason for this; I'm one of the reviewers and arts journalists who's migrated to the great new arts website Seesaw, and you can find all my latest reviews and other musings – along with those of other quality writers – by going to

(don't forget the "mag")

I promise I'll get Turnstiles back up-to-date over the coming holidays, and look forward to keeping you in the loop over what is shaping to be an exciting 2020 festival season and beyond. In the meantime – see you on the Seesaw!