Review: Apocka-wocka-lockalypse (Meraki Arts Bar)

Venue: Meraki Arts Bar (Darlinghurst NSW), Mar 16 – Apr 1, 2023
Playwright: Richard Hilliar
Richard Hilliar
Cast: Matt Abotomey, Lib Campbell, Zoe Crawford, Nathan Porteus, Nicole Wineberg
Images by Clare Hawley

Theatre review

In a bunker beneath what has become known as the Deadlands, Miss Melissa lives with four furry monsters, spending their days together as though in a children’s television programme, singing songs and telling stories. There is no audience of course, for it is the end of the world, and Miss Melissa has quite clearly lost her mind. Written and directed by Richard Hilliar, Apocka-wocka-lockalypse is as mad as its protagonist, but is thankfully a great deal more likeable.

A deeply subversive work, consistently amusing with its irreverent spirit, and its excellent sense of humour, Apocka-wocka-lockalypse satisfies beyond the laughs it so deftly delivers. The show is genuinely funny, but also provocative, determined to make bold statements about a catastrophic future, that we are in the delusory habit of ignoring. Art reveals the truth, even when it seems to spend all its time entertaining and playing the fool.

Hillier’s methodology of incorporating puppetry, allows our sensibilities to venture directly into a space of absurdity. A suspension of disbelief then occurs, along with a diminishment of defences, in order that the show may convey its difficult message, as well as trigger our imagination to participate in something altogether more outlandish and flamboyant.

Matt Abotomey, Lib Campbell, Zoe Crawford and Nathan Porteus are our enthralling puppeteers, a brilliant team of storytellers who bring extraordinary animation and passion, to the production. Inventive and cohesive, they make the experience compelling from beginning to end. Miss Melissa is played by Nicole Wineberg, who inhabits both the sweet and the terrifying qualities of her character with aplomb, in a performance that captivates most when she channels a sense of extravagance, into the eccentric tale.

Production design by Ash Bell is a whimsical take on Miss Melissa’s unnerving world, combining innocence with horror, for visual cues that are truly disarming. Lights by Isobel Morrissey are minimal, but nonetheless effective. Music by Alexander Lee-Rekers brings valuable elevation to the staging, tremendously accurate with all that it wishes to evoke in the viewer, full of humorous insight, to reveal the meanings behind the relentlessly zany darkness.

Our apocalypse can be thought of as preventable, or be regarded with a gloomy inevitability, but it seems we mostly pretend that it is not actually imminent. Indeed, we may already be in the very throes of our end times. Our boundless proficiency at being optimistic, has proven necessary in preventing us from depressive states of paralysed hopelessness, but it appears to also be the Achilles heel, that puts us in perpetual denial and that encourages us to keep repeating the same mistakes. There may be light at the end of the tunnel, but to think that we will arrive at salvation without gargantuan effort, is to sound the death knell of our species. |

Review: Rhinestone Rex And Miss Monica (Ensemble Theatre)

Venue: Ensemble Theatre (Kirribilli NSW), Mar 10 – Apr 29, 2023
Playwright: David Williamson
Director: Mark Kilmurry
Cast: Glenn Hazeldine, Georgie Parker
Images by Prudence Upton

Theatre review

David Williamson’s Rhinestone Rex and Miss Monica is a light-hearted 2010 comedy about the romantic attraction between seemingly diametrically opposing personality types. It is on one hand an innocuous work that could not be more pedestrian, yet on the other, it is an absurd fantasy about a woman falling in love with a tradesman she hires, who repeatedly overrides her design decisions thinking he knows better, who goes on radio calling her “crazy”, and who she discovers one morning, had tried to sleep with her the night before, when she was completely intoxicated.

Actors Glenn Hazeldine and Georgie Parker prove themselves extremely endearing, as the eponymous pair, persuasive in having us ignore the inadequacies of the writing almost entirely, to simply enjoy the obvious jokes, in their perfectly timed two-hander. Under Mark Kilmurry’s direction, Hazeldine and Parker present a joyful rom-com, showcasing their talents as consummate performers any audience would be happy to spend time with.

Set design by Veronique Benett lacks versatility, but is beautifully proportioned to allow for a generous and dynamic performance space. Benett’s costumes establish character types with immediacy and accuracy; helping us know instinctively and exactly, who these Sydneysiders are. Lights by Trudy Dalgeish and sound by Daryl Wallis, add simple embellishments, to make an already tight production, feel even more polished.

There is certainly a story to be told about class distinctions in this town, for in our efforts to assert the types of people we are, it seems we habitually and inevitably create systems of exclusion, inside what should be one unified community. Monica and Rex are presented as individuals from different ends of town, but we are expected to believe that love will conquer all, that everything they are associated with, that every incompatibility can be put aside, so that their relationship can flourish.  Lust is an intense force, but every indication is that it does little to ameliorate the social differences we hold so obstinately dear.

Review: Gundog (Kings Cross Theatre)

Venue: Kings Cross Theatre (Kings Cross NSW), Mar 3 – 18, 2023
Playwright: Simon Longman
Anthony Skuse
Cast: Jane Angharad, Saro Lepejian, Mark Langham, James Smithers, LJ Wilson
Images by Clare Hawley

Theatre review
When immigrant worker Guy stumbles upon a remote farm, he discovers its state of disrepair to be much more than skin deep. English playwright Simon Longman’s Gundog looks at the tribulations of a rural family, and the disquiet that seems so fundamental to being human, no matter how idyllic the surroundings. There is no shortage of drama in Gundog, although the tensions that arise, seem to emerge from nowhere. We find ourselves in a locale where inhabitants cannot help, but go through immense existential angst, even when nothing much seems to happen.

Director Anthony Skuse manufactures an air of austere placidity for the piece, leaving us no doubt about the palpating misery at the centre of these characters’ lives. A persistent humourlessness can make for challenging viewing, especially in the first half where the storytelling feels especially dour. Lights by Travis Kecek and sound by Kieran Camejo are accordingly severe, but with an unmistakeable sophistication that is ultimately an asset for the show. Set by James Smithers features a raked platform adding visual interest, while Aloma Barnes’ costumes demonstrate an attention to detail, that helps keep our attention firmly within this world of agrarian dread.

As actor, the aforementioned Smithers is a source of scarce but gratifying emotional intensity, with the psychological tumult that he so competently portrays, as the immensely distraught Ben. Saro Lepejian brings understated authenticity to Guy, and delivers beautiful poignancy at a crucial concluding moment. Jane Angharad and LJ Wilson play Anna and Becky, sisters struggling to make sense of a crumbling reality, and Mark Langham is grandfather Mick, the withering patriarch offering a reminder of the family’s painful links to land and heritage.

It is true, that we can escape our homes to where the grass is greener, but whatever causes agony is easily transposed at each new destination, as peace is always primarily a condition of a person’s inner welfare. Also true, is that a change of scenery is often useful for triggering changes in the mind. The outside and the inside are intrinsically linked, and sometimes abandonment is the best gift to oneself, when in search of something better.

Review: Collapsible (Old Fitz Theatre)

Venue: Old Fitzroy Theatre (Woolloomooloo NSW), Mar 9 – Apr 1, 2023
Writer: Margaret Perry
Directors: Zoë Hollyoak, Morgan Moroney
Cast: Janet Anderson
Images by Phil Erbacher

Theatre review
Esther is asking everyone she knows, for a word to describe herself. In Margaret Perry’s Collapsible, we see the strange things a person does, when deep in the process of job hunting. Esther contorts her personality into different forms, in hopes that she may be perceived as a right fit, for one of the many organisations that she is interviewing with. We observe someone trying to be all things to all people, and ultimately becoming an empty vessel, knowing nothing about herself, from trying to appeal to an economy determined to reward mediocrity and that encourages one to shed their values and principles.

There is an abundance of abstraction in Perry’s writing, which Zoë Hollyoak and Morgan Moroney use as directors of the piece, to deliver something memorable for its rich visuals. Although unpredictable and exciting with its sense of theatricality, the show can feel somewhat hollow, which admittedly is an accurate representation of Esther’s essence. A more intense depiction of anxiety and unease, that accompanies the existential angst being reflected, could perhaps make the experience more worthwhile.

Set and costumes by Hayden Relf offer surprising solutions, that make for a quirky staging that sustains our attention, in what could easily have been a very understated one-woman show. Video projections by Daniel Herten and Moroney, are ambitiously rendered but offer little other than a demonstration of an experimental spirit. Lights, also by Moroney, are a more satisfying aspect of the production, delivering great texture and atmospheric transformations. Herten’s sound design is wonderfully lively, but could benefit from a greater sensitivity in approach.

Actor Janet Anderson is thoroughly captivating as Esther, with an impressive degree of control over the challenging material being explored. Emotional aspects of Anderson’s performance could be more delicately managed, but her vigorous physicality keeps us engrossed.

It is not only for financial reasons that Esther loses herself, but also the pressures of social conformity, that pushes her to twist her soul, into something that prioritises external expectations. We are not certain if Esther has forgotten herself, or if she had indeed ever truly known herself. The hard part of being, is to arrive at a state of knowing the self. To navigate life only in bewilderment, is unquestionably tragic. /

Review: The Goat, Or Who Is Sylvia? (Sydney Theatre Company)

Venue: Roslyn Packer Theatre (Sydney NSW), Mar 2 – Apr 1, 2023
Playwright: Edward Albee
Director: Mitchell Butel
Cast: Yazeed Daher, Claudia Karvan, Nathan Page, Mark Saturno
Images by Prudence Upton

Theatre review
Martin is obsessed with a goat; the attraction may very well be romantic, but when he tells his wife Stevie about the affair, Martin leaves no room for doubt about the sexual nature of his indiscretions. The Goat, or Who is Sylvia? is Edward Albee’s comedic masterpiece from 2000, notable for a conceit that most would choose to think of as absurd, for to take the play at face value, is unquestionably a real affront to our middle-class sensibilities.

Director Mitchell Butel toys with those precarious boundaries, by injecting a thorough realism into the staging, so that we laugh not only at the preposterous goings on, but also at the deeply uncomfortable disruptions to the bourgeoisie, that Albee so gleefully manufactures. Butel’s ability to make everything believable, gives the show a dangerous edge, so that for 100 minutes, the stakes feel incredibly high, even as the humour of the work makes its presence unmistakably known.

Actor Nathan Page is an astonishing Martin, bringing a hugely surprising measure of emotional truth, to this deliciously ridiculous tale. His expressions of devastation are not to earn our compassion, but to give depth of meaning to our experience of the show, as we laugh heartily at the catastrophe as it develops, with increasing peculiarity. Page’s unexpected fluctuations in tone and intensity, reflect a creative and courageous approach, that proves a perfect match for the play’s subversive humour.

Stevie is played by Claudia Karvan, who indulges in finding for her storytelling, all the authenticity that would make the audience perceive, the intricacies of a marriage in a state of shock. The ebullient Yazeed Daher charms as the couple’s son Billy (pun intended, one would suppose), and Mark Saturno calms our nerves as the normie of the piece, providing a more conventional response to the whole goat affair, although not without substantial hilarity through his excellent comic timing.

The production is a smart looking one, with Jeremy Allen’s set and Ailsa Paterson’s costumes delivering everything that is visually pleasant, of affluent, restrained whiteness. Lights by Nigel Levings, along with sound and music by Andrew Howard, are appropriately minimal in their enhancements of a play, that needs little aesthetic embellishment.

Things can always change in an unforeseen moment. We have learned from the moment of birth, that life has a way of dispensing upon us, one interruption after another, yet we keep on insisting on searching for stability, normalcy and calm. Martin and Stevie bolster their lives with all the comfort and certainty, that wealth seems to guarantee, but we are reminded that things will always descend, upon that which seems the most harmonious and indefectible, as though with the sole intention of wreaking havoc. To exist, is to be rendered defenceless, try as we may, to subsist in the delusion, that we can reach for something like nirvana, on this endlessly farcical plane. |

Review: Sunderella (ARA Darling Quarter Theatre)

Venue: ARA Darling Quarter Theatre (Sydney NSW), Mar 1 – 4, 2023
Playwright: Kunal Mirchandani
Director: Bali Padda
Cast: Nickin Alexander, Aria, Sheila Dickshit, Mohini Dixit, Kashif Harrison, Adish Jain, Zeenat Parveen, Rani, Shabnam Tavakol
Images by Dusk Devi Vision

Theatre review

In this version of a very familiar story, the prince is left with a bangle instead of a glass slipper, to look for the woman of his dreams. Also different in this new iteration of the tale, is that the woman turns out to be a man, who had gone to the ball, dressed in drag. Kunal Mirchandani’s Sunderella moves the story to Mumbai in 1762, for a queer reframing of a classic love story, that should prove more appealing to the many who are tired of the heterosexual dynamic, so obstinately central to virtually all of our fairy tales.

Comical yet tender, Sunderella contains both ironic humour and innocent romance, blended together for a delightful show catering to kids of all ages. Director Bali Padda imbues a delicious camp sensibility throughout the piece, and along with choreographer Zeenat Parveen, deliver something that shimmers reflexively, both on the surface, and from within its vivacious heart. Costumes by Parveen, Shurobhi Banerjee and Mishty Lal, are gloriously assembled, and lights by James Wallis are just as spectacular, for a production that satisfies with its visual sumptuousness.

Parveen further impresses, as performer in the role of The Goddess, with sparkling charisma and a marvellously disciplined physicality, that provides some level of polish, to a presentation that is otherwise memorable for its stable of raw talent. Shabnam Tavakol is strong as the vicious Stepmother, leaving no ambiguity regarding her malicious intentions. The handsome Prince Nirad is played by Nickin Alexander, who brings a valuable earnestness that gives the storytelling a believable anchor. The titular part of Sunderella is shared by Mohini Dixit and Adish Jain, both demonstrating good commitment, to elicit our emotional investment into their show.

The ease with which Prince Nirad was able to adjust to the discovery, that his love is more a man, than a woman, is indeed a refreshing change from what feels like a centuries-long fabrication, that the only appropriate response for a situation of this nature, is panic. It may be with Sunderella that we learn to re-classify the prince as pansexual, or it may be that we learn to ameliorate the way we understand gender, so that those who are disadvantaged because of gender disparities, can begin to live reclaim all they deserve.

Review: Macbeth (Bell Shakespeare)

Venue: Sydney Opera House (Sydney NSW), Feb 25 – Apr 2, 2023
Playwright: William Shakespeare
Director: Peter Evans
Cast: Rebecca Attanassio, Julia Billington, Isabel Burton, Jeremi Campese, Eleni Cassimatis, James Lugton, Kyle Morrison, Hazem Shammas, Jessica Tovey, Jacob Warner
Images by Brett Boardman

Theatre review

The most timeless element about Shakespeare’s Macbeth, is perhaps its meditations on ambition and guilt. Centuries on, men continue to be ruthless, as they claw their way to the top, but it is not often that we see any evidence of remorse thereafter. The play is concerned with the human conscience, but it is revelatory that most of how its characters experience regret, can only take place in supernatural realms; an indication that much as we wish for the rich and powerful to admit wrongdoing and make amends, it is but a fantasy in our individual and collective minds.

Under Peter Evans’ direction, the production certainly bears a dreamlike quality, inspired by the subconscious goings on, that are mercilessly unleashed throughout the narrative. Designed by Anna Tregloan, the monochromatic space looks to be Twin Peaks meets Art Deco, complete with heavy drapes and patterned floor, sumptuous but nightmarish, in its evocation of the World War I period. Lights by Damien Cooper add to the luxuriant visual style, whilst rumbling music by Max Lyandvert, although not short of tension, is at times strangely hesitant in getting involved, with the drama’s unbridled extravagance.

Actor Hazem Shammas is extraordinary in conveying operatic scales of emotions, in a deeply compelling treatment of the titular role.  Shammas’ intensity seems to know no bounds, with an uncanny ability to externalise the dire psychological trauma being investigated, for a performance memorable for its fascinating physicality. Jessica Tovey’s approach for Lady Macbeth is considered, but sanitised, with an unusual degree of restraint applied, to one of the most outrageously imagined women in the Western literary canon.

When Macbeth receives his just desserts at the bitter end, it is both a result of his own unravelling, and of Macduff’s need to seek revenge. Our desire for good to triumph over evil, is repeatedly evidenced in the art that we make. Art provides opportunities for catharsis, when real life fails to deliver what our instincts know to be true and just. In a world that insist on rewarding those who act nefariously, it is only in our storytelling that we can find, the most perfect of resolutions.

Review: The Resistance (ATYP)

Venue: The Rebel Theatre (Sydney NSW), Feb 16 – Mar 11, 2023
Playwright: Kip Chapman
Director: Kip Chapman
Cast: Diya Goswami, Lakesha Grant, Genevieve Lemon, Thea Sholl, Jo Turner, Jack Walton
Images by Clare Hawley

Theatre review

A teenage international climate superstar has been prohibited entry to Australia, but the demonstration must go on, in Kip Chapman’s The Resistance. When a political movement is truly worthwhile, it seems leaders can be easily replaced, because it matters much more, that constituents are inspired and passionate, regardless of who is installed at the top. Much of Chapman’s play relies on the enthusiastic participation of audience members, who act as volunteers, in both the staging and the story, over the 80-minute duration.

Of course, not everyone in the auditorium ends up on stage; the show finds ways to entertain all who are present, leaving none neglected or alienated, such is its attention to inclusivity. The Resistance inventively exemplifies how we can organise and agitate, so that our democracy can be moved to higher gears, and that the people’s power can be amplified and put to effective use.

Set design by Tobhiya Stone Feller creates spatial demarcations that reflect the various facets of activism, whilst providing an uplifting theatricality to the locations being represented. Her costumes provide for characters a sense of authenticity, with a palette that further enhances the different personality types. Lights by Rachel Marlow and Bradley Gledhill bring a great vibrancy that keeps the crowd excited, and sound design by Luke Di Somma works subtly to manipulate the shifts in tone between scenes, whether gentle or dramatic.

Actor Diya Goswami makes an explosive entrance, and maintains her verve to the end, as a very compelling Marlee, who proves herself a natural leader, always at the ready for stepping in to pick up the pieces. Lakesha Grant brings great intensity to the role of Bundilla, who guides the group to prioritise Indigenous rights alongside its climate concerns. Thea Sholl and Jack Walton are charming as Pepper and Miro respectively, both with great comic timing, effortless at putting viewers at ease. Genevieve Lemon too, is humorous as Drew, the artsy protestor, and Jo Turner definitely delivers the laughs in a trio of parts, each one funnier than the other.

Agitating for change, is never a comfortable process. When life becomes overly comfortable, it is perhaps a sign that complacency has set in, and that one’s eyes are being shielded from certain realities that require rectification. Material comfort especially, often functions as a kind of bribery, to deter a person from engaging in social movements that focus on the greater good. It is incumbent upon each individual to find out the truth about their own communities, with their inherent strengths and weaknesses, and then ensure that mechanisms are in place to facilitate improvements, even if it is tempting to hide away with one’s head in the sand, thinking that every problem is someone else’s responsibility. |

Review: Feminazi (25A Belvoir)

Venue: Belvoir St Theatre (Surry Hills NSW), Feb 22 – Mar 11, 2023
Playwright: Laneikka Denne
Director: Danielle Maas
Cast: Shayne de Groot, Ziggy Resnick
Images by Clare Hawley

Theatre review

Zan spends an inordinate amount of time on social media, expressing her anger about sexism, or to be more precise, declaring her hatred of men. Zan’s brand of feminism, although admirably radical, is full of bitterness and antagonism, to the extent that observers might even think she behaves just like the men she despises. Laneikka Denne’s Feminazi deals with the challenges involved in our navigation of feminist politics, and how entrenchment in patriarchal structures often leads us to act in ways that seem to replicate the very systems that we condemn.

It is a chaotic work, although not incoherent, that represents with a level of accuracy, the anarchic messiness involved, in many of our experiences, when trying to operate outside of established milieus. Directed by Danielle Maas, the show bears an intensity that will no doubt be captivating for those who share similar beliefs pertaining these matters, but humour is sacrificed, in favour of that political fervency. Parker Constantine and Xanthe Dobbie are responsible for video elements that feature prominently in the production; vivid and joyous, they encapsulate online culture in ways that reflect an attentive scrutiny, of everything happening in digital realms.

Hailley Hunt’s set design places in the centre, a large video monitor, pristine in contrast to the dishevelment of Zan’s neglected living quarters. Costumes by Hunt are athletic and powerful, for a character obsessed with cultivating an aggressive persona, in public and in private. Frankie Clarke’s lights and Aisling Bermingham’s sounds offer valuable enhancements to atmosphere, preventing the viewing experience from turning monotonous.

Actor Ziggy Resnick is extremely convincing as Zan, with an intimidating quality that provides for the production, a unique and distinct flavour completely commensurate with its incendiary title. Resnick’s commitment, along with an impressively thorough familiarity with the material, keeps us riveted, even when Zan’s behaviour becomes deeply alienating. Shayne de Groot offers purposeful support in the role of Angie, the voice of reason that enters the scene to disrupt the escalating danger of Zan’s intentions.

As feminists, we need to embrace discomfort and upheaval, for the opposite, that of familiarity and politeness, is almost always certain to keep us on the straight and narrow, playing by the rules of the adversary, and leading us nowhere meaningful. It is integral that we remember that the patriarchy understands more than anything, the language of power, and of intimidation, but agitators need to remember that that mode of communication must not be absorbed into all aspects of our own lives. We need to lead with love and kindness, especially when dealing with individuals, for few of us are unscathed by this harmful system. To survive any war, combatants need to keep their eye on the prize, especially when the desired result, is one we know to require an immense shift, to something radically compassionate and inclusionary.

Review: Sex Magick (Griffin Theatre Company)

Venue: SBW Stables Theatre (Darlinghurst NSW), Feb 17 – Mar 25, 2023
Playwright: Nicholas Brown
Directors: Nicholas Brown, Declan Greene
Cast: Blazey Best, Raj Labade, Stephen Madsen, Veshnu Narayanasamy, Mansoor Noor, Catherine Văn-Davies
Images by Brett Boardman

Theatre review

Ard is following his new flame to India, but as it turns out, the trip is a lot more than a romantic gesture. His estranged father had left the Kerala region for Sydney more than 30 years ago, and it is now Ard’s opportunity to find out not only who his people are, but also why his father had chosen to emigrate. Nicholas Brown’s Sex Magick is a wild and profound odyssey about identity, love and sex, with a particular interest in the process of decolonisation and queering, in a person’s understanding of the self, and by extension of the world. It is about breaking the myths of white Australia, to create new identities, based on investigations into migrant histories, and the imagination of a future rid of the harmful baggage from all our pasts.

It may be a serious core that anchors Brown’s story, but Sex Magick is boldly extravagant and extremely playful, with genuine hilarity persisting for its entire two-and-a-half hour duration. Directed by Brown and Declan Greene, the show is relentlessly fascinating in its explorations into sexuality, and all that it implies. We watch characters deconstruct themselves, awkwardly but powerfully, and emerge reconstituted with a greater sense of freedom, in relation to the self, and to the world at large. Sex is about how a person relates to the world, and if one wishes to radically alter their experience on this plain, it may seem that it is their conceptions about matters of a sexual nature, that need to be interrogated.

Brown and Greene’s ostentatious aesthetic is seen most prominently, in a rhapsodic lighting design by Kelsey Lee, who holds no punches in delivering a visual landscape full of wonder and fantasy. Equally mesmerising is the lavish sound design by Danni A. Esposito, intensive and adventurous in its determination to move us into unpredicted realms, both geographical and metaphysical. Video projections by Solomon Thomas guide us further into greater intimacies of the show’s carnal interests. Mason Browne’s set design helps to facilitate surprising, and rapid, entrances and exits, while his costumes offer quick insight into the many personalities appearing on stage.

Actor Raj Labade is judiciously subtle in his portrayal of Ard, in order that we may connect with the tender centre of his narrative. Also effective is his quiet rendering of Ard’s comical aspects, able to make us perceive all the humour, whilst maintaining the resonantly earnest quality of his search for answers to existential mysteries. Catherine Văn-Davies demonstrates astonishing intricacy and precision, in her depictions of Liraz, the zealous lesbian who finds herself inadvertently entwined with Ard. Văn-Davies embrace of Sex Magick‘s deep subversiveness, allows her to make us giggle even at the play’s more curious moments, and then cry when we least expect to. Also very funny is Stephen Madsen, whose marvellous comic timing delivers many of the biggest laughs, in a trio of roles, all creatively rendered to amuse us to no end.

Blazey Best too is masterful in three parts, all evocative and comical, with finely honed voice and physicality, to tell stories in the most compelling ways. Mansoor Noor is especially memorable as Boyd, who prides himself for being the plus in LGBTQIA+, a free-spirited entity who brings warmth and benevolence to the delightfully erratic presentation. The auditorium comes to a sudden still, when Veshnu Narayanasamy first appears, completely hypnotic with his dance, promptly shifting our sentiments to something altogether more weighty and substantive. Choreography by Raghav Handa channels beauty, tradition and spirituality in a work that is ultimately, an exercise in reaching for the eternal and divine.

There is no end to the human need for truth; that quest is perennial. What we can hope for over time however, is more wisdom and more enlightenment, should we choose to go through these worthy pursuits of discovery and emancipation. Characters in Sex Magick surprise themselves, with the people they become, in every step of their respective evolutions. Some of us think we know who we are, some of us profess to knowing little about themselves, but life has a knack for revealing deeper truths, if only to show that we are always but only scratching the surface, in a world that we often mistakenly think to be our dominion.