Overture, curtains, lights,
This is it, the night of nights
No more rehearsing and nursing a part
We know every part by heart
Overture, curtains, lights
This is it, you'll hit the heights
And oh what heights we'll hit
On with the show this is it
Tonight what heights we'll hit
On with the show this is it.
-The Bugs Bunny Show
Ethan Switch - Sunday, March 25, 2007
Notorious is toward the exposure of the seedy needy. Where the close cut call to a stand off between behind the glass and from behind narrow down a focus on hate. Or disdain. Or sheer apathetic sighs and glances knowingly of the kind of situation which bears itself naked in the harsh light of an evening process. Observations are only as worthwhile as the people listening in and when the deaf are standing by, it's not much without the visual.
White or yellow in sushi rolls and will pass time quick when standing agape, jaw down and up in Pitt Street mall with amazement and wonder at the clock above Borders. Create a scene to enable others to stop and pay a few seconds of their time and it's a little performance for the hour before the hour.
Read the rest of Puppet Up! Uncensored by The Jim Henson Company - State Theatre - 23/03/07 review
Ethan Switch - Wednesday, February 21, 2007
Wash the sweat out of the eyes as the elderly pair walk down Willoughby into McDougall. Ensemble Theatre, on the lip of Kirribilli water. Boats on moor and laughter from within. Well, that's fifteen minutes and being on time is classic professional. Consummate.
No bats for the eyelid on pseudo, wine glasses clear away and it's all hush-hush to break ahead of the break to watch and listen on as Toni Lamond recounts her life, her history and her lows. Times Of My Life, co-written by Toni Lamond and her son, Tony Sheldon, who also directs the one woman show.
Ethan Switch - Thursday, October 19, 2006
Pass the corner and down Greenknowe Avenue, it's there lights. Darlinghurst Theatre, like it never was any further away from Elizabeth Bay than Onslow. Pick up that reference and it's a world of old and heritage. For there is nothing like an aside to pull away the focus of the main and it's the guss of it that leaves the smarts.
Much as it is to walk in and spot a ring, they'll call it a squared circle to annoy those geometric fanatics. Screw them and pin their shoulders to the mat as the blind referee, as flamboyant as a flamingo sets off the count. One. Two. Three and you're done, son.
Read the rest of Blue Eyes and Heels - Darlinghurst Theatre - 17/10/06 review
Ethan Switch - Wednesday, October 4, 2006
Take a breath and watch as the waters of the Parramatta River glisten under the sounds of the chatter from the cafes and restaurants not so far away. Gibberish, gobble and the usual that concerns people who walk and talk with an air of burning up the night.
Stalls for all, the seats of the Riverside Theatre playing host to bodies that fill the section close to the stage. Man at the back with the decks looks like the cover for the orchestra. Not that there's anything wrong with it, just the testy touchy look back given in icy shards. Combatants of sound!
Read the rest of Giselle - Parramatta Riverside Theatres - 29/09/06 review
Ethan Switch - Sunday, June 25, 2006
Pause for even a second in the automatic doors of the Seymour Centre and feel the clench of the glass swings go cracking a rib. Breathing and walking take a chance and go out with the doors unsure of the passage. In or out, either way there is nothing like skittish electronics.
Menacing with just a bat and hood, an onstage goon keeps an eye on the incoming audience. The walk in features photos in frames along the wall. Lighting is soft and the timing way off for casual or even cursory readings. Conflicts of existence beckon as their placement serves no purpose than to create a block.
Ethan Switch - Wednesday, May 17, 2006
Dangling from a rather loose noose, The Hanging Man features Death being fed up and taking a break from it all. From the taking of lives, from the removal of the idiots from the stream and generally being done with cleaning up the world of the people otherwise destined for the other side.
Working on a couple of levels on interaction, The Hanging Man swims between an outright story unfolding on stage to one smelling like the air of a rough workshop. Talking like they do to the audience, the cast breathe this connection that jumps the point between now and then. A lot of which leaves time hanging about waiting for the return to the flow.
Ethan Switch - Saturday, May 6, 2006
Walking in the kick of sheep is enough to keep an empty seat from being so. From Martin Place to Broadway, a jog is not in order and the ride to freeze over the air conditioning par for the rush. No names, none whatsoever and the ding dong ding dong call for the upstairs clears out the waffling foyer. Downstairs and a student from Heartbreak High is in the throng.
Silence throws up an interesting audio for the opening minute. A head long slurry into the effects of water and the new horizon. Ymma the Princess and Agnes the Maid are quick to set out the scene for their predicament. A predicament that sees the princess betrothed to a young warrior, One yet on the verge of puberty. Or just on, the distinction isn't too crystal.
Read the rest of Silence by Moira Buffini - Downstairs Theatre, Seymour Centre - 05/05/06 review
Ethan Switch - Sunday, April 30, 2006
Ten minutes before the thrusting rush of people, the box office of the Stables Theatre tends to one man looking rather out of stride. Calmly and cooly the situation resolves itself in those dead minutes before the throng. Situation taking care of itself like the self serving asexual star fish.
Questions on burlesque theatre kill a few seconds and make for tentative and wary glances. Lesbians are on the loose and the people are reading about the adventures with a barcode and price tag in the corner. Yet, there remains no one behind any sort of counter collecting the toll. Onward and upward with vague suggestions.
Read the rest of Speedy Mustard - by Marty Murphy - SBW Stables Theatre - 27/04/06 review
Ethan Switch - Saturday, April 8, 2006
Make with the cold late nights. The chill is in the pants and rubbing up hard next to the person in the other seat is not what "it" is all about. There are other things, such as finding more free postcards for intent to mail. And never breaking out the door to do so. Plus, word is that battery leakages are great for burns.
Quite the crowd for a late night Thursday in Parramatta. Dress, jeans and demeanour suggesting that fresh snake oil of university fiends about. Fresh and with the product of ages yet to descend like the mad marketing dictates the workers in collars and suits behold.
Ethan Switch - Thursday, March 16, 2006
Sold out for the final preview night, the air in the Stables Theatre ranks of the wrinkle in the many faces around the box office. Air conditioning donation requests are all over the place, dangling with a sickly shine under the laminate.
Scrawlings of peaches and all various incoherent babble for insiders takes over the walls of the theatre and stage. From varieties in the field to notes on cultivation and succulence, a concerted effort with the words moving not one smudge to heavy heads hitting the back wall. Silver and black, not moving a tack.
Read the rest of The Peach Season - by Debra Oswald - SBW Stables Theatre - 14/03/06 review
Ethan Switch - Friday, March 10, 2006
"White Power! White Power!" and the man in the wheelchair cranks up the motor to run down a few people crossing the intersection of Enmore and King Streets in Newtown. Leaking black metal music from the stereo underneath his seat, leather and a flat mohawk is all that this man is.
Waving out to the lingering crowd, the burly doorman of The Hub motions for the filling of seats. Smooth floors provide a sliding access. The coarseness within those same panels cause for jittery moves. Dank and wide open, the expanse of the interior of The Hub shows signs of continual upkeep, woodwork still rough and undone.
Ethan Switch - Friday, February 24, 2006
Foam still wraps the dividers on the fresh walkway block of The Studio. New jutting from the old and even the windows claim the off cuts of recent work to the glass installations. People are filing in with an apparent float on beer and champagne. Tables on the floor straight up sign this work to be a cabaret style affair.
No apparent need for actual tickets as the psychic paper works well enough in the face of the lost. Watching on, the cold of the air conditioning cools things down quick. Too quick for some and the night is still day outside for an early performance before the sunset.
Ethan Switch - Sunday, February 19, 2006
Round and round they roam the water's edge looking for a connection. In anime, the people rarely hold conversations on mobile phones. Crossing paths in the street all too coincidental, the chaotic fact of fate playing a large role. And that they are drawn together by the very virtue of their character.
Signs around The Rocks show no marker for the Sydney Theatre on Hickson Road. 47 on a red square, but nothing across the road. Guess.
Read the rest of Macbeth with Stephen Dillane - Sydney Theatre at Walsh Bay - 17/02/06 review
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