Category: Paul Hooper

  we do not happen presents A BUTCHER OF DISTINCTION by Rob Hayes at the Old 505 Theatre, Hibernian House, Elizabeth St. Central Railway. A BUTCHER OF DISTINCTION is a little ‘gem’ of a darkling play (70 minutes, or so) by a young British writer, I do not know: Rob Hayes, and despite the Internet address, handily given in the very modern format of the program – which assumes that all their audience have Internet connect to be informed of the ‘creatives’ histories – it was not very helpful, to find out more. I did gather he is a prolific…

  atyp Under the Wharf and The Night Whisperer present, THE HIDING PLACE by Kendall Feaver at the atyp Theatre Wharf 4, Hickson Rd. Isn’t it a wonderful thing, and an awful human trait, that, sometimes, when expectations are not so enthusiastic (even low), and still one makes room in one’s life for supporting an endeavour, one encounters an experience that is highly, surprisingly, stimulating? One feels so rewarded from that low base of expectation that the tidal flow of pleasure is immense. Or, appears so. The adrenalin rush is so warming. The disinclined effort is rewarded. I am so…

  Hurricane Productions in association with The Wayside Chapel presents STORIES FROM THE WAYSIDE at the new Wayside Theatre, Kings Cross. The Wayside Chapel has always had a theatre space. There is now a brand new green space at the Wayside. STORIES FROM THE WAYSIDE is the inaugural production. Eight actors were assigned an individual each: staff and/or clients that have had a relationship with the organisation. The actors interviewed their study over five different meetings throughout July/August of this year. The actors studied their subject closely and observed the physical, vocal and emotional gestures, capturing the vocabulary and information…

  The On Reel presents STICKS & STONES by Jay Duncan at the Tap Gallery, Darlinghurst, Sydney. Going to the theatre can be, sometimes, such a surprising and unexpected adventure. Take last Saturday night, for instance. On a balmy but drenched and drizzling night I found my way down Palmer Street, just down from Oxford Street, but before the Burton Street corner and climbed up a steep and old-fashioned clad stairwell. It does feel so seventies grunge and properly seedy. At the top the stairs, two very casually dressed but very fashionable looking young men, took my money, but did…