3 posts tagged “sydney”

Isn't it interesting?  Once upon a time, when great leaders descended upon our shores, we were encouraged to flock into the streets and cheer them.

I recall seeing H M Queen Elizabeth II, By The Grace Of God, Queen of Australia And Her Other Realms And Territories, drive through Parramatta in 1970.  The crowds were 8 or so deep, and I had to shimmy up a tree to but see her passing by.  (I was a skinny and fit kid then, and downtown Parramatta had trees then.)

Now we are told to bugger off.  Stay away!  is the message.  We're not even allowed to look at the fireworks, in a city with a culture of harbour fireworks.

An article by Andrew Herd in Znet sums up this new and very uncomfortable aspect of Australian democracy:

Sydney is a public space. It is not a space for world’s powerful to use as they wish, when they wish. The arrest of the Chaser group personified the removal of rights that all Australians should have: to walk or drive down the main street of Sydney, or any other city or town.

As for The Chaser people gatecrashing the security system - well, good luck to them, I say.  (The radio shock jocks and the Sydney Daily Telegraph seem to disapprove, so all the more reason to support The Chaser people.)

The only funnier thing than this is the vision of the politicians and senior policemen working themselves up into a lather of Righteous Indignation about the gag.

One of the reasons that dictators like Stalin and Hitler and Kim Il Sung succeed is that no one is allowed to publicly laugh at them.  For this reason alone, The Chaser people perform a valuable community service.  (And indeed, the Chaser people might all be looking at Community Service or worse after their day in court.)

The last word on this subject should go to the listener to radio station 2BL, who suggested an event just after the leaders were presented with their Drizabone jackets (this odd custom where they all pose for a photo op in "national dress").

The suggestion was that following the presentation, they should have the waterproof qualities of these coats tested by having their wearers hosed down with that evil-looking water cannon that the New South Wales Police Force got in for this event.

By the way, in a desparate attempt to prove to you that I'm not a leftie ratbag, I invite you to send a greeting to H M Queen Elizabeth II, By The Grace Of God, Queen of Australia And Her Other Realms And Territories, and HRH The Duke of Edinburgh on the occasion of their 60th wedding anniversary.  You'll even get your name on a microsite. (This makes me wonder - will the Queen send herself a telegram for this occasion?)

Greetings to regular readers Heidi and to John, both of whom Pauline & I visited yesterday.

Heidi is a former classmate and colleague on the International Students' Orientation program at our old university (2003 ish). She is now carving out a name for herself in her new profession in Sydney. And she cooks up a great lunch, which we then proceeded to demolish.

She is very excited about the prospect of her parents coming to Australia to visit for some time.  And they're arriving today!  On behalf of Chronicle readers, I welcome Heidi's parents to Australia.

John is a former school mate of mine (from 30 years ago!! aaagghh) and university mate of Pauline's. 

We had a lovely dinner in the high street of the Sydney suburb of Croydon.  Regular readers will recall that this is one of the few intact Edwardian-era main-streetscapes remaining in Sydney, and as such has considerable heritage value.

Our thanks to both these folks for their hospitality to us weary travellers.  Zhu kai xin!

Today, Pauline & I had the good fortune to see the arena production of The Boy From Oz at the Sydney Entertainment Centre.

This event literally took our breath away.  All the hype surrounding  Sydney lad & Western Australian Academy of Performing Arts graduate Hugh Jackman (local lad made good) bringing Peter Allen (rural New South Wales lad made good) back to life in this event is entirely justified.

Whilst it might be dificult to define a person's "star quality" - an ability to hold an audience, be it 6 or be it 18,000 (as it was yesterday) - you need look no further than Hugh jackman to witness this.

Certainly the production lifted this, but I would daresay that every performer and every crew member in this show lifted his / her individual game through the association with Mr Jackman.

And part of the feat achieved is his interpretation of the life of another famous Australian, Peter Allen.

When I wasn't being sucked in by his living breathing rendition of Mr Allen (and the fact that Mr Jackman looks nothing like him is entirely irrelevant - in fact, this is further testimony to Mr Jackman's powers), I was marvelling at being in the presence of Mr Jackman.

Normally, one might expect one view to conflict with another;  however, yesterday, this did not matter.

Another bonus of this show is to have Mr Allen's output of songs contextualised as being autobiographical.  Whilst Not The Boy Next Door seems obvious, the autobiographical point others like I'd Rather Leave While I'm In Love was missed by your humble reviewer until yesterday.

Its a dreadful shame that Broadway audiences were deprived of hearing Tenterfield Saddler;  the amount of autobiographical background, together with the poignancy of this song, is quite moving.

Mr Jackman also has a great wit.  At least some of the repartee with the audience could not possibly have been scripted in advance (either that or he is an even better actor than I even now realise);  yet it was hugely funny and he never dropped his character for a moment.

Yet another big show-stopping momen t was provided by Colleen Hewitt (people of my vintage will remember her as the TV Week Queen of Pop in the 1970s).  She played the part of Peter's strong mum, standing up to a brutal husband and accepting he rson's homosexuality. 

Her rendition of Don't Cry Out Loud (another Peter Allen song, much to my surprise) also had us on our feet.  (Usually I am suspicious of standing ovations, but I did not begrudge any here.) Ms Hewitt's version of this was far superior to the Broadway cast recording version (which we had blasting at home all today); the American singer is plainly uncomfortable with replicating an Australian accent, and it shows - with her performance vacillating between Eliza Doolittle and the Mother Superior from The Sound Of Music.  Her preoccupation with the accent stymied her from putting her heart into this song - something with which Ms Hewitt had no problems.

(In fairness to the Broadway album, the Australian accent is very hard to replicate.  We usually end up sounding either like Cockneys or New Zealanders. Even Meryl Streep, usually an expert with accents, couldn't get this in Evil Angels [ re-titled A Cry In The Dark in the USA].)

Peter Allen's mum sounded rather ballsy (if i ma y say that on Vox).  When he was awarded the Medal of the Order of Australia, he phoned the news through to his mum who, he reported, had tears in her eyes - but that may have bee nfrom the onions in the dog' dinner she was preparing at the time of the call.  (This anecdote is recounted from Stephen Maclean's book Peter Allen: The boy from Oz, from which much of the show was drawn.)

Peter Allen originally played the Sydney Entertainment Centre for its official opening in 1983.  This venue was also the scene of his final concert on Australia Day (January 26), 1992.  These facts are exceptionally appropriate for an exceptional show featuring a highly exceptional talent

The review in The Sydney Morning Herald stated that this is the best musical you could ever hope to see.  Usually I am suspicious of such hyperbole, but for this I can but helplessly and happily concur.

• News item in The Australian newspaper (link in NewsVine)
  
• Review in The Sydney Morning Herald (link in NewsVine) (access might be conditional upon registration)