In 2020, The People – an artists collective headed by Morgan Rose and Katrina Cornwell – started to write a show about bigotry and discrimination. They made a list of all the things they hated, which included racism, misogyny and Zoom. Bu they’d be stuck on Zoom for a while, because lockdowns in Melbourne lasted for a long time.
At some
point (the group was rigorous with documenting their process, though I wasn’t
taking notes), the group decided instead of fixating on things they hated, they
wanted to create and describe a utopia – a perfect world they could work towards
and put on stage. In 2021, or 2022, or maybe, finally, in 2023. You might have
noticed, it’s 2024 now.
Rose and
Cornwell worked together with a group of artists, including Sonya Suares,
Samuel Gaskin, Kate Hood, İbrahim Halaçoğlu and Zachary Pidd to hash out the
borders and boundaries of this new society where inclusion is in and bigotry is
out. They struggled with the concept of perfection and society and how to
remake the world into something that loved love and banished hate.
Peacemongers (working title) is the end result.
Though, it’s not really the end because there’s still lists to make and answers
to find. It’s really hard making a utopia, right? Even if you’re starting with
the best intentions.
Staged at
Darebin Arts Centre with a set by Nathan Burmeister that evokes the ruins of classical
architecture and the dance floor of a cheap wedding reception venue, long
tables are set up on three sides of the room where the audience is seated for
dinner and a show.
The dinner,
provided by Moon Rabbit, is delicious – a chicken option and a vegan option,
served one after the other, so the audience is left to exchange if we don’t get
what we want or need. It’s one of the subtle forms of conflict and negotiation
we were subjected to throughout the night.
It started
with a Tim Tam versus Mint Slice vote and later we were asked to judge whether
musical theatre was a worthwhile artform. See, deciding what is in and what is
out is a difficult decision – especially when the choice is binary.
The show is
mostly a look at how this show was devised, which was clearly a struggle given
the circumstances of the world at the time and the personal commitments of some
of the participants – Sam needed to go to Bali and Kate got an offer to be in a
show at Queensland Theatre Company.
It’s partly
a musical, because songs can deliver emotion in a way that text-based theatre
can’t. It’s partly a civics lesson, with a mock trial of a religious baker who
won’t make a cake for a gay wedding.
I struggled
with this example, since it’s quintessentially an American story about First Amendment
rights (cake is speech!). I figure, if you want to make a perfect world, maybe
the United States isn’t a great starting point. Australia and the US had
completely different responses to the pandemic, so starting a utopia here or
there would be entirely different propositions. But as my partner pointed out,
if you’re going to start a new world, you have to bring along the people starting
from way behind.
Remaking society
is a tricky proposition, even when you’re starting with a group of good people.
But then, what are you meant to do with the bigots? Banish them? Vanish them?
The
experience of Peacemongers on opening night was comforting because the
room was filled with like-minded creative people who know the struggle of
creating shows while being sensitive to other people’s experience. Early on in
the night, for example, we are given an example of different lighting states
and noise levels to be expected in the show, which would be super helpful for
any neurodivergent audience members.
It was also
fun to make quick decisions about what we wanted to bring along to the next
world. We decided to keep fingering, fucking and Fever (the song), while
tossing out Fever (the symptom). We were good with edging and after a stumble
by the person on our table being quizzed, we got rid of Eugenics quick smart.
The People are going through the alphabet, so different shows in the season
will be questioned about different things. Ashley Olsen is already out, but
what will be decided when Mary-Kate is up for election or elimination?
There’s a
lot of good and knotty questions in the show about representation and inclusion
and whether or not it’s more dramatically satisfying to depict a utopia or show
the struggle to make one. It’s a notion close to my speculative fiction-writing
heart. Watching other artists argue about it or try to find a way to accept one
another’s offers without escalating it was a real joy.
I do wonder
what an audience of people who don’t make theatre will think about the
machinations of this show that isn’t a show. But, for me, it positions itself
so well as a mix of immersive show, site-specific performance and a cabaret
spectacle, that you can enjoy it on an aesthetic level without having to pigeon-hole
it.
For all the
theatricality of Rachel Lee’s gorgeous lighting and Justin Gardam’s evocative sound
design and the exciting music score by Zachary Pidd, there was something so
elegant in listening to the actors speak, while the audience’s spoons and forks
clattered against their bowls while we ate and watched – fascinated by where we’d
go next.
Peacemongers is thoughtful and generous with its
ideas and offers. It felt great to be in a room with smart people tackling challenging
ideas. And the idea of the audience being able to participate in the
conversation is vital to making this show work. If you’re going to make a new
world, you have to try to bring everyone along.
- Keith Gow, Theatre First
Peacemongers runs until May 5th (and you’ll
be asked about your dietary requirements when you book)
Photos by Darren Gill
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