Monthly Archive:: June 2016

Maeve Marsden and Libby Wood 2016 Mother’s Ruin (Butterfly Club)

For the love of gin, had to go. Mother’s ruin of runes, insightful divination, devotions with the sweetest soul harmonies.  The martini of voices went crowd-raucous  ‘makin love’ at ‘9 on a Saturday’ to a ‘tonic and gin’. Suffragette cocktail needs further investigation.

Stonyford Community et al 2016 Three Hall Progressive Dinner (Weerite, North Pomborneit and Stonyford)

Community of food, talk and dance, created by a handful of hard workers and a wealth of past investments. Soup in a cup, table service and then a big-band bush dance that honours the children. All New Joneses, welcomed in, vegans included.    

Lilian Steiner 2016 Admission into the Everyday Sublime (North Melbourne Town Hall)

Admission comes with ear plugs for those uncomfortable with dissonance. None seen to be used. The show moves from the sweat of athletic limits to sonorous beats that drag the viewers into the abyss that lies at the heart of the performance.  

Various Artists 2016 Dancing Umbrellas (Heidi)

A loud lit exhibition that holds me with its mirroring. In amongst it I discover Minna Gilligan who has recovered my sister as I remember her in 1975, my politics of eating and a reference to the wuthering Kate Bush. It’s me.

Naomi Kawase 2015 An (Nova)

Nam Loong’s red bean buns won’t be the same after this cherry blossom of a movie. ‘Everything in this world has a story to tell,’ An tells her fellow chef. The beans jostle and glow. They are the loved ones. I hunger.      

Close the Slaughterhouses 2016 (Fed Square to SLV)

Four years ago, twenty rallied. France gathers thousands. Us a flood of red. ‘Their bodies not ours.’ ‘They’re not food, it’s violence.’ ‘Why love one and eat the other.’ ‘Save the animals, go vegan.’ Exercise. Mess with the personal pronouns. Us. Them.

Nicolas Philibert 2010 Nénette (University of Melbourne)

Je suis désolé. Schooled again by the Animal Reading Group. A screening of Nénette. The zoo debate a soundtrack over my resistance to anthropocentricism. The mirror of her gaze is my own. One fact, unassailable. She is ‘a victim of her rarity’.