a short performance for B Grade Performance 3: Schlock Value
Three men meet in the theatre on a Firday night and play vampire games. It’s not pretty but it’s art. A part of continuing performance research by version 1.0 for their work The second Last Supper.
22nd September 2000
a short performance
A creative development showing of The second Last Supper was shown at Performance Space in April. The Hangover forms part of our creative development of the work leading up to a season in April 2001. For this small piece we have taken the final image from the larger work and played with what might happen next. There has been a conscious decision to explore a different mode of operation from the previous work, in this case switching from an absurd matter-of-fact style to a hyper-theatrical one, with loud, ominous music and stylised gesture underpinning the piece.
8 August 2000
for B Sharp Rough Cuts: Short Fuse 2
Belvoir St Theatre Downstairs
GOOD EVENING LADIES AND GENTLEMAN, I HOPE THAT EVERYONE’S HAVING A GOOD TIME. I HOPE THAT EVERYONE’S HAPPY. THAT’S GREAT. WE’LL SHARE A BIT OF LOVE TONIGHT IN THE SHORT TIME THAT WE HAVE TOGETHER. A LOT CAN HAPPEN IN TEN MINUTES.
Two people enter a location. They come from different places and are heading in different directions. They collide amidst others in the same space. Something happens. Something changes. A conversation begins in the darkness, and spills over into a spastic tango over a gin and tonic or three. A couple occupy the same physical space but don’t quite can’t quite meet. A choreography of fumbles and embarrassing silences.
Performance for B-Sharp (ROUGH CUTS)
Downstairs Theatre, Belvoir St
Unspeakable Acts was a duet that became the starting point for questions to ask yourself in the face of others
a durational performance
Truth and Fiction. 841 minutes in a room with five alleged artists and a few phone calls. Bad jokes. A 12 hour continuous performance improvisation that questions the right to be here. Now. Strong drinks. Accomplices aid and abet those impounded via underground communication links. Midday to midnight. An experiment and a desperate struggle to stay present. To fight for what is yours. To find a place to speak. To know what to say.
This work was performed at Performance Space on September 22, 2001.
This project was assisted by Performance Space.
It was the night before Christmas, and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse. Because they were all dead….
A suicide note. A demented poetry recital. A desperate attempt to reanimate the bloody corpse of Santa Claus.
Christ-mess fun from version 1.0.
Performed at PACT Theatre, December 2002
It's not a question of authority, it's a question of will. - George W. Bush
A short performance commissioned for RealTime's The Party of the Decade
You have been warned.
At this line in the sand, an army of performers will deploy weapons of self-destruction.
Be alert and alarmed.
Be shocked and awed.
Be here now.
June 2004. On a bare stage in Redfern, Sydney, Australia, US President George Bush begins speaking a remix of his 2002 State of the Union address with the backing of a menacing guitar riff. He asks rhetorically:
"How will we fight and win this war?"
As he speaks ten performers from the performance group version 1.0 enter, each carrying a bottle of wine, a glass, and a bottle opener. They stand in a straight line facing the audience. Their gaze is directly forward, each intently eyeballing at an individual audience member. No one smiles. As President Bush forcefully demands war on Iraq to eliminate what are now known to be fictional weapons of mass destruction, the soundtrack switches abruptly to a US soldier’s enthusiastic description of his weaponry - armour-piercing rounds, explosive rounds, and grenades.
The performers open their wine bottles. They fill their glasses, toast the audience, and begin drinking. By the second glass, President Bush’s voice returns, becoming a litany of righteous indignation at the evil of these weapons of mass destruction. At the centre of the line, one performer has a bottle roughly taped around his head, and drips wine down his sleeves to fill his glass cupped in both hands in front of him, grimacing painfully.
Is this a bizarre, ridiculous and disturbing echo of the Abu Ghraib torture photographs? Is it a cruel joke? If it is, then no one is laughing. What would it be to laugh at such imagery? The performers continue to drink steadily, glass after glass, saying nothing, never removing their eyes from their chosen audience member. As if to say: we don’t want to do this, but we will do our duty. As if to say: we do this for you. As if to say: you are part of this. You are cannot avoid responsibility simply by sitting passively in the dark.
They continue drinking until the bottles are empty. President Bush finishes his speech to enormous applause, continually building in intensity. As the recorded applause reaches its peak, the line up of performers exit silently with their now empty bottles. Is this what political theatre in Australia has become - the relentless, grim faced, and ridiculous deployment of weapons of self-destruction? Is this all political theatre can do in the face of neo-conservative triumph - drink itself into a stupor?
This performance occured at Performance Space on June 12, 2004
...version 1.0 showing continued commitment to boozing their way through the current political depression, at least performatively, bared an arse to a rapped-up version of John Howard's victory speech. Not subtle, but it wasn't that kind of night.”
Keith Gallasch, RealTime
Short performance commissioned for Performance Space's 21st birthday celebrations
We are happy. We are joyful. We stand and watch the dawn of a new era of great achievement. A gesture of solidarity towards Prime Minister John Howard's victorious "proud nation, confident nation, and united nation". We wish we lived in this nation.
A 21st birthday gift from version 1.0 to Performance Space, in recognition of troubled times.
This performance took place at Performance Space, November 6, 2004.