ASR – Feb
Peter Greagg masks his hunger
The
Greaggs pay a visit
28.2.07 – It’s not often the Greaggs are
in town, so it would be nice if I got the message straight when
they do venture this far south. In the event we went out for
coffees in Camberwell, when what the poor darlings really needed
was a nourishing lunch, a faux pas for which I hope
they can eventually find forgiveness for me in their hearts.
As it was they came bearing tantalising gifts, one being an
exquisite looking Pinot from Hobart where Peter (pic left)
had run, cycled and swam a half triathalon (!), the other being
a ubiquitous collection of home-baked CDs bearing some interesting
looking titles scrawled in black texta. Titles like Spectrum
– Terminal Buzz, Ariel – Aloha, Ariel – Goodnight Fiona etc.
Since ‘retiring’ from Treasury, Peter has taken a keen
interest in the technique of transferring music from vinyl disc
to digital format, a skill at which he has proved to be very
adept. I’m looking forward to reviewing his work too, as it’s
very possible some of our back-catalogue may never see the light
of day otherwise.
Barry
remembers Camberwell
Back
with a vengeance
11.2.07 –
I was very fortunate to be invited to the Barry Humphries Back
With A Vengeance show at the State Theatre last night.
I’ve never been to a Barry Humphries’ live show, although I’ve
seen a few Dame Edna TV shows, and I was looking forward to
it with considerably less apprehension than, say, a Bob Dylan
concert, but not neccessarily expecting to be blown away either.
I was relieved to find that we were some distance from the stage,
especially when I saw the scope of Les Patterson’s gobbing,
not to mention the Dame’s notorious singling out of audience
members for attention, but despite being in box seats, we didn’t
miss a word, due to the excellent amplification and (I’m assuming)
Barry’s visually non-intrusive throat or lapel mic, (I didn’t
actually see where it was ). In fact, the presentation was impeccable
throughout, managing to hint at lavish whilst actually being
no more than thoughtfully economical. Mind you, the Dame’s voice
was even more strained than usual, and when she referred to
it being ‘this afternoon’
she may have been in a matinée
time-warp, and I’m not sure where she goes when she goes into
her ‘The Thinker’ pose, but the Dame character was always going
to be the one that might betray some tiredness with the cabaret-like
routine.
I won’t bother to detail the rest of the show; although I was
particularly moved by the poignancy of the late-lamented Sandy
Stone showing us round his memories of a bygone Melbourne in
Beryl’s cut-price Wendouree home for the bewildered, but there
was a surprise (for me, at least) at the end which suggested
that Barry might seriously be thinking of moving on, rather
than being some sort of ageless and eternal Melba the Dame would
like us to believe. I don’t know if this is standard practice
-Susie seemed to think that this was something new – but Barry
appears at the end of the show like some Wildean vision in a
tux, and all the characters fall into place as his
creations, and there was a genuine swelling of emotion from
the audience in response and, well, pride dammit!,
as he, Barry Humphries, author, actor, observer, satirist et
al took his rightful ovation from his home-town audience.