Reviews

One of Leah Shelton’s great strengths is in the creation of subversive, disturbing images.  Here the show begins with Shelton as the cliché blonde party girl in a flouncy cocktail frock but constrained by white bands of leather wrapped around her – one band jams her mouth, like a gag – impeding her movements and her speech.  The import of this is clear.  It’s the image on the poster for the show – an image that maybe attracted at least some of the audience.

Later, the frock is accessorised with an axe...

The name Hymen Arluck is not memorable. It’s a good thing he changed it to Harold Arlen as he embarked on his brilliant career as a composer. 

Except, as it turns out, that name didn’t ring as many bells as it should have, either. As a fan of his personal contribution to what has become known as The Great American Songbook, I must confess - in retrospect – that I probably attributed most of his songs to the Gershwins, Irving Berlin or Cole Porter.

The hallmark of this festival is the crazy variety of venues where performances are staged. We’ve got the 900-seat Princess Theatre, at one end of the spectrum, to literal hallways at the other. Not that the less glamorous situations take away from the performances - but when you juxtapose them with this particular venue - we really have travelled from the ridiculous to the sublime over these five days.

Forgive me - if there was ever a clichéd sentence waiting to happen - this is it: “Tyran Parke dreamed the impossible dream”. He did so by way of his introduction to proceedings. Apparently, way back in 2021 when he took the reins as Artistic Director and the festival was in its infancy, he vowed… 

“In five years, we’ll put on a big show in the Princess Theatre with the Tasmanian Symphony Orchestra.”