As the audience enters the darkened theatre, trying to find our seats, there is music in the air and momentary glimpses of the Wilderbeans on stage. The sounds of a flute, a violin and a cello welcome us to the space and as we settle, things start to come into focus. We are in a forest. And the band are part of the trees and the undergrowth.
Trees, we
are told, are non-binary. The world is gender-non-conforming and we are living
in it.
My Queer
Spiritual Entropy
is a collection of moments, transitory and transformative. Every scene digs
into the rigid binary thinking we are all born into and uncovers the hypocrisy
of truths we believe in. Central to this show is the idea that we accept that
people aren’t all good or all bad, so why are we stuck on the idea that all
people must be men or women? Why is it so hard to understand that we can be
both or neither or transition?
Performer
Holly Rowan has produced a solo version of this work before, but bringing in
fellow trans and non-binary performers, gives an important sense of community.
Music, of course, works as a deep collaboration, so even the simplest of tunes
here give us a sense of nature working in harmony. The other ensemble members,
Lore Burns on cello and Rosie Breedt on violin, give the show a lively score
but also interact with Rowan’s fascinating central characters. Shelley O’Meara is
also on stage, using a projector to illuminate the performers in striking ways.
The ongoing imagery of planets casts the piece as a reflection on the universe.
Rowan’s
characters range from satirising the tropes of the masculine and feminine, to a
character who appears as a large yellow box, trying desperately to make a
connection when they have a deep sense that no one is willing to embrace them.
There is some hilarious audience interaction that is pretty well-judged, but
might not work so well depending on who Rowan approaches.
There is a
sense of repetitiveness at some moments during the hour – sometimes it feels
like the show is hitting the same idea too hard. But I get the frustration the
queer community feels with having to say the same things over and over, just to
be heard. It’s a tricky line to walk, but in the context of Midsumma, it is
nice to have some of our beliefs spoken back to us.
Rowan is a strong performer, particularly in those moments where they are playing characters who do not present as human - struggling with their form and shape and their sense of loneliness. This is very moving.
In a world
where being trans, non-binary and gender-non-conforming is becoming more
difficult – again, and as always, it’s important to see trans and non-binary artists
and hear their stories. They aren’t looking for any more than any of us have – safety,
belonging and love. And they are also at the mercy of the questions we all have
about life and the universe around us. What is our relationship to the world? How do any of us fit in with a natural world that is changing
rapidly?
And why, oh
why, are we so happy to be trapped in boxes of society’s making?
- Keith Gow, Theatre First
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