Russell Starke OAM.
He was one of our own, an early member of the Adelaide Critics Circle and a very fine critic.
He stepped away from the Circle when he was no longer reviewing for the media and, despite entreaties from the other critics who admired his deep knowledge of theatre and his eloquent bonhomie at meetings, he said that he felt that unless one was reviewing, one no longer was qualified to be in the Circle. Ethics, dearies.
Russell’s death has left Circle members reeling. He was 82, but still in the verve of life until leukaemia struck suddenly and swiftly.
Russell Starke was a man of many incarnations. Critic was just one string to his bow.
He was a Solomontown boy and, at school in Whyalla, his irrepressible thespian inclinations shone through from early on. He was born to perform.
Arriving in Adelaide aged 22, he became a window dresser and soon head of display at the charming old Miller Anderson department store. His talents as an actor were swiftly recognised and mid 1960s he was to get his very first rave mainstream review from none other than a member of this Circle. He had portrayed Biff in Death of a Salesman, a performance so spellbinding that, as theatre critic on The News, this writer could barely contain her effusion. “It was a performance one could not forget,” I was to reflect many decades later when the remarkable Russell gave another such performance, this time playing Biff’s father, Willy Loman, in that same timeless Miller play.
Russell's flair for art and design manifested itself throughout his career. He was very good with costumes and he went on to be a high-profile master bonsai exponent.
He could turn his hand to anything.
He also had a high-profile media career not only as a publicist and promotor but also as a radio and television presenter. Many remember his times presenting horror movies on TV.
Horror came to him in 1981 when, crossing Light Square, he was hit by a truck and suffered traumatic injuries from which only true grit and some hard years brought him back to full strength.
But, through his love for art and jewellery and his association with gallery owner Veda Swain, he moved into a whole new incarnation by taking over Greenhill Gallery in 1997. He ran the gallery until 2013 with A-lister opening nights and rousing hospitality. He hosted the Critics Circle’s Awards ceremonies there on a number of occasions.
Russell was always being urged to get back on the boards as the consummate actor he was. He did so a few more times. But, closer to his heart in latter years, apart from the joys of gardening, there was Shakespeare and sonnets. His last official incarnation was as The Passionate Poet.
He produced Shakespeare at Star Theatres and gave poetry performances around the town; to enthusiastic acclaim. He did these performances with his usual heart-and-soul expertise. He was able to evoke the full gamut of emotions from his audiences: from laughter to tears, with sighs and smiles in between.
Meanwhile, offstage Russell Starke always had that thing called “panache”. He was a stylish, handsome man with exquisite, albeit often flamboyant taste. His clothes were ever strikingly elegant and invariably deliciously tactile. He wore spectacular jewellery and never lost an opportunity to support those who designed and created such artworks. Kindness and generosity were among his innate characteristics and Adelaide is crowded with charities and individuals who have, in one way or another, been recipients of his magnanimity.
Russell Starke was a rare example of a true “Renaissance man”.
He adorned Adelaide with his often extroverted affability. He was never afraid of a good drink or a convivial companion.
He knew everything about everyone.
He claimed to have had many associations in this world but, after his marriage to the talented writer and academic Ruth, he was never seen to have a sole partner, just myriad friends and, perchance, frissons.
What gave him the most profound of all pleasures was the fruit of that interesting marriage. His daughters, Petra and Miranda, were truly the light of his life. He was boundlessly proud of them.
And then he became a grandfather!
Not that he put “family man” at the forefront of his public persona.
He was ever outgoing and interested in everyone around him. He carried his life scars and private world with quiet dignity and was never seen to indulge self-pity or braggadocio.
Or so it seems to this old friend of his.
Coming to write about him, I realise all the things I did not know.
Thus does this tribute barely touch the surface of Russell Starke, OAM, decorated for his generous contribution to the visual arts and young artists.
But, these words echo the sentiments of so very many - that our Russell was an exceptionally fun, fearless, cheeky, kind, talented, caring, and erudite soul and a valued member of our society. We salute him and, oh yes, we mourn his passing.
Vale Russell Starke.
Words by Samela Harris
Move over Little Prince. Claire Della is coming to the sky.
She’s using a ladder and she is only going as far as the moon, but it promises a serene escape from the stresses of life here on earth.
Or so she hopes.
Even children suffer stress and depression from the complicated lives on this troubled planet.
That is the understanding of Ellen Graham and Jamie Hornsby who sought consultation with Simon Andrews, principal psychologist of OK Psychology and in a partnership with the mental health outfit, Headspace, to tap into the mental health issues confronting today’s children.
Claire Della and the Moon is the result, not only of these professional investigations but also of the vivid imaginations of the two theatre-makers. And, they have flavoured their creative juices with the talents of others, most particularly the renowned puppet designer, Stephanie Fisher, whose puppet oeuvre includes, of all things, the famous Babadook’s giant wings as well as the masks for Windmill’s Girl Asleep and even the baby crows for The Crows. Here, for Claire Della, she has created Laika, the dog on the moon.
According to Jamie Hornsby, the plan for a new children’s show of poetry, puppetry, and mime has been brewing away for a couple of years, And, now it is realised through Claire Della as an uplifting work which may empower children in the dark world of anxiety and depression.
Scoring the inaugural Hall of Possibility Artist Residence program at Slingsby Theatre Company was a key to getting it off the ground - quite serendipitous really since, says Hornsby, Claire Della and the Moon was inspired by Slingsby’s acclaimed production of The Young King.
Being artists in residence gave Graham and Hornsby an opportunity to work with the Slingsby professional facilities.
"We are starving artists so we snuck in at night and worked for all hours,” says Hornsby.
They might be starving artists but Ellen Graham and Jamie Hornsby are very well regarded in the Adelaide arts. Singly and together, they have been acclaimed as exciting emerging artists. They now go by the joint name of Madness of Two, under that name, they launched onto the public with an entirely zany Fringe production at the chic new theatre venue Rumpus at Bowden. The show was called Dead Gorgeous: A True Crime Clown Show.
It showcased some of Hornsby’s diverse talents, particularly on the musical front.
As a graduate of the Adelaide College of the Arts, Hornsby has shone as a playwright, actor, musician and composer. He has won awards as best new playwright and best young playwright and you-name-it. Graham, meanwhile, is recognised as an actor, model, and theatre maker. Together they are hoping that their new theatre company will make a strong impression on the future of children’s theatre in South Australia, albeit they have no plans to abandon the avant garde adult theatre works for which they are becoming known.
Last year the couple gained a state pass to attend the ASSITEJ gathering in Norway. This is extremely significant in the world of theatre for the young. The International Association of Theatre for Children and Young People holds major expositions of international performance and, to Horsby’s delight, Madness of Two was exposed to a wealth of the latest new works and ideas in the world of theatre for the young. Claire Della fits very neatly into that scheme of new thinking.
Claire Dells is a child of “now".
“She is a little girl who doesn’t fit in on earth,” explains Hornsby.
“She’s obsessed with the idea of living on the moon where it is quiet and safe.”
The expression of feeling different, he says, is a metaphorical interpretation of depression and anxiety.
The production has been coming together at The Parks community theatres venue, one of the best theatres in the State. It has been invaluable to the company to be able rehearse in the venue itself, thanks to venue manager Kerry Hutton.
Its season with both schools and public performances will open on September 23, and because of the theatre’s sophisticated design, even with Covid-safe seating, about 100 audience members can attend performances. The show targets ages 6 plus and it is hoped that it also will be able to tour schools.
Claire Della and the Moon is presented with the support of the Department of Premier and Cabinet.
Samela Harris
When: 23 Sep to 4 Oct
Where: Parks Theatre
Bookings: trybooking.com
School bookings can be made via email at This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.
South Australia leads the way - again.
From a world of confused, demoralised, and struggling theatre people at the height of a terrifying pandemic, arises an enterprise of absolute genius - Decameron - 2.0.
No arts crowd anywhere in the world has managed to create anything as ingenious and ambitious in response to the pandemic which has closed theatres and put the arts industry out to pasture in penury.
The State Theatre Company of SA and ActNow Theatre found their inspiration in the distant past, in the idea of what others had done in similar fearful lockdown generations ago.
The Decameron was created by 14th Century Italian writer Giovanni Bocaccio in response to the 1348 Black Death epidemic which scoured and terrified Europe, just as Covid-19 is doing to the world in 2020. People tried to escape it by hiding away, just as we have done. Boccacio invented a group of 10 people locked down in a villa outside Florence. To pass the time, he had them tell each other stories; a hundred in all.
Boccacio’s book has survived the centuries. For a long time, back in the bad old days of Australian literary censorship, it was banned. It was way too naughty and raunchy for the wowser era. It was sold illegally under the counter at bookshops right up until 1973.
While Boccacio created the Decameron alone, our theatricals have used his concept to rope in, employ, and give exposure to the bright and brave talents of the Adelaide arts world.
There is a vast array of people who have been employed in the cause of this emancipated enterprise: writers, actors, directors, camera people, and designers.
These many Adelaide arts workers have been working like crazy. From the concept to the realisation, it has been a pressure cooker, everyone working to order on the weekly themes of Decameron 2: love, loss, ambition, and duplicity. Ten weeks of ten self-contained works. A hundred highly individual, highly relevant monologues.
Monologues and solo performances have been the name of the game in this Covid time. The Zoom application has been the ideal solution to social distancing, giving everyone the ability to perform from home.
Musicians in lockdown took to Zoom with seeming relish, coming up with huge, multi-windowed orchestral performances, incorporating classical musicians from all over the world.
On the theatre front things were a little slower. Theatricals were at first paralysed by the loss of their stage, not to mention the chemistry of a live audience. Their cries of pain resounded around the Western world: dark theatres, cancellations, no touring shows, no programmed blockbusters, no repertory seasons, and ticket refunds. These have been seemingly mortal wounds. Thespians and audiences worldwide simply froze in dismay.
International theatre companies tried to feed their starving 2020 audiences by releasing their fabulous filmed archives of splendid productions. These provided a welcome fix of great theatre with opportunities to see international shows one never would have been able to see; wonderful plays and musicals, many of them superbly filmed, intense and intimate to watch. Most offered these viewings for free. Some asked for donations to keep theatre companies extant in the pandemic. Some went for ticket prices. The issue of support for theatre companies has been as critical as it has been delicate. Those which asked for donations have been easiest to support.
Then, Zoom Theatre turned up from England with the absolute essence of western theatre, Shakespeare. On Zoom. And, with actors from all over the world, each in their living rooms, studies, or even kitchens, they played Macbeth, expertly and well-rehearsed, in a moveable feast of separate windows. They worked the technology very nicely. They found ways in which to make it seem as if they could share or proffer a prop from window to window.
An American company, The Public, which produced What Do We Need to Talk About, was swift to adopt this new genre, if one may call it that, and it was first to make reference to The Decameron within its lock-downed online storytelling. Written by Richard Nelson as part of an ongoing project of minimalist plays, What Do We Need to Talk About depicts the Apple family in the US, separated by self-isolation but gathering, by default, on Zoom. There, in their separate Zoom windows, they catch up and argue, as siblings do, and tell each other stories to fill the air time. It is a splendid work and worth watching.
Cancelled is somewhere between theatre, film and reality TV. Quick-thinking Australian filmmaker Luke Eve applied for funding with the idea of filming the lockdown predicament he was facing with his fiancée, the actress Maria Albiñana, and his mum, Karen Eve. That funding enabled a ten-episode series recorded entirely on iPhones in isolation to be sent in email packages to composers, a colourist, and an editor to be groomed up into quite a slick production. Luke’s mother had arrived in Spain to stay with the bride and groom in their Valencia apartment when they realised that the imminent wedding had to be cancelled. Mum could not return to Australia under newly-imposed Covid travel restrictions and none of them could go outside. Thus, trapped together in the apartment with not only the wedding cancelled but their careers as well, Luke and Maria scripted the experience and the three of them performed it. It is the only verite lockdown production of which one has heard. It is a very touching and sometimes funny work, quite raw in its honesty. The hapless mum, Karen from Perth, rises quietly amid the domestic tensions and, in some ways, becomes cult star of the show.
Meanwhile, back on the ground in Adelaide, South Australia, with live theatre indefinitely out of action, State Theatre and ActNow brainstormed to brilliance the Decameron 2.0 production.
And so it comes to pass that we may claim to have led the word in new, original Covid online theatre.
Not only but also, in its ambitious scale, in this time of covhideous arts darkness, with the support of the State Government of SA’s Covid-19 Grants Support program, it has employed actors, playwrights, directors, camera people, and design creatives on a grand scale.
Some are just emerging onto the arts scene and some are well established. All, most particularly the producers, ActNow, and State Theatre, have had to work with an extremely swift turn-around to get ten, fresh, original pieces up each week. Very many of them are really strong little works.
The pieces are brief monologues which, of course, are the absolute test of an actor as well as of a writer. Alone, performing in camera close-up, is profoundly demanding for an actor. But here they have directors to add nuance and support the interpretation of the pieces. Some of the writers perform their own pieces. Each week has a theme and the writers find ways, often quite laterally, to embody the themes: “Those who come to know themselves”; “Those who play tricks”; “Those who seek justice”; “Those who find love”. These subjects have been realised as domestic violence, love and loss, First-Nations issues, childhood dilemmas, and even political parody. A 15+ age category has been recommended for audiences.
We of the Decameron 2.0 audience quickly became addicts, hanging out for the next instalment.
It never disappointed. It has just grown better and better.
And, one may dare to predict that it is has a future.
Decameron 2.0 might have been evolved from the Covid lockdown of 2020 because people could not go to the theatre, but one can envisage it staged as a Festival event, perhaps as a theatre epic.
What is certain is that it is a highly significant achievement and an absolute credit to the two artistic directors, Mitchell Butel and Edwin Kemp Atrill, with Yasmin Gurreeboo, Anthony Nicola and Alexis West and the wealth of skilled souls they have rounded up. To name just a few, there are writers such as Alex Vickery-Howe, Ben Brooker, Manal Younos, Emily Steel, Sally Hardy, Jamie Hornsby, and Kyron Weetra. The actors include Trevor Jamieson, Chrissy Page, Martha Lott, Rory Walker, Rebecca Mayo, Kate Cheel, Jacqy Phillips, Matt Crook, Ezra Juanta, Miranda Daughtry, Carmel Johnson, Caroline Mignone, Elaine Crombie, and Anna Steen. There have been notable contributions from many directors and a seasoned technical team for lighting, cameras, sets, and co-ordination.
It is impossible to name everyone but the credits are there on the website.
The performed pieces thereafter pop up beautifully on YouTube.
https://statetheatrecompany.com.au/decameron-2-0/
The series is available for free online and it is rapturously highly recommended.
It is as historic as it is engrossing. Out of the 2020 negative, it soars as a shining positive and a superb achievement of which South Australia may glow with pride.
Samela Harris
Story Links:
Cancelled: https://www.facebook.com/cancelledtheseries/
What do we need to talk about - on Zoom https://publictheater.org/news-items/buckets/conversations/what-do-we-need-to-talk-about/
Zoom Theatre’s Shakespeare https://zoomtheatre.com/index.php
Decameron 2.0 https://statetheatrecompany.com.au/decameron-2-0/
Her Majesty’s Theatre, Adelaide’s new triumph of the arts, has been one of the great victims of the pandemic.
Its gala opening concert is on indefinite hold.
Years of fundraising and an extraordinary execution of design and construction end with a few privileged media reveals and more waiting.
As a scribe for this fine online arts website as well as resident critic of the ABC’s Sunday Smart Arts program, I scored alongside Peter Goers, an invitation from Festival Centre CEO, Douglas Gautier, to be among those first people to have a private tour of the new theatre.
No, it is not a “revamp” as people keep saying. This is $66m of completely new state-of-the-art theatre. All that remains of the old Her Maj is the gracious Grote Street facade and the Pitt Street wall. Even the stage door has moved down Pitt Street, as I discovered when I went to meet our guide.
What lies within is a whizz-bang contemporary wonderland, a modern theatre which will be the envy of the world.
Of course, theatre history sings its way into the 2020 entity. Her Maj was once called The Tivoli, The Prince of Wales, The Opera Theatre…
Hence, the first thing one encounters once through the Stage Door, is a magnificent Signature Wall. On the bricks lovingly rescued from the demolition are the autographs of performers who graced the stage of the old theatre. It is a thrill of beautifully-salvaged nostalgia, a century of memories with bricks aplenty for the future stars to sign their names as the years roll on.
The new stage is breathtaking. It is a massive expanse, much bigger than the old one.
Technicians working on all the new facilities have been responding with enthusiasm. Excellent, they say.
And there, as one stands above the orchestra pit, the splendour of the auditorium is revealed, a sea of svelte red seats. Above the stalls, a dress circle and grand circle arc elegantly. We used to call the upper circle “the gods” because one is close to heaven when one is in them, so perilously high do they feel. Of course, they are also what’s known as "the cheap seats” and many of us in our frugal student days had our nascent J.C. Williamson's experiences up there. We wax lyrical with nostalgia.
I had felt somewhat concerned when I heard that there would be no centre aisle in the stalls of the new theatre. I like a centre aisle. As a professional audience member, I am well known for highly defined preferences and ease of egress is at the top of the list. “A quick exit is a good exit,” say I.
My reservations evaporate the moment I walk through the auditorium. The gentle curve of front stalls not only has leg room even for tall people but also room to walk in front of said tall people. No standing up to let people pass. Oh, it is so generous and civilized.
Not only but also, every seat has a handsome circular plate beneath it. These are air vents which enable the air conditioning to circulate freely, for each and every audience member to have their own source of air. This is my idea of bliss. No foetid old-school people-soup air for this grand new venue. The best technology has been employed. It is state-of-the-art.
There are two good, broad aisles at the back area of the stalls and, I realise with joy as I try sitting at different vantage points, there is not a bad seat in the house. The sight-lines are superb.
Even the handrails along the auditorium walls are gorgeous. There is a lot of wood in this theatre, magnificently crafted and designed. Wherever one looks, there are thoughtful details. Some are reiterations of old Edwardian theatre designs and some are subtly innovative. There’s a period pressed-tin ceiling, for instance.
There are also lifts, because no matter how handsome the stairs may be, it is still a long climb up there to the gods.
There are bars and foyers with luscious red banquettes on all the floors. There are brass celebrity tiles embedded in the floors, again recalling those who have been part of the theatre’s history.
And way up at the very top of the building, the only part as yet unfinished, is the gallery and formal home space planned for the state’s Performing Arts Collection and special exhibitions.
Douglas leads us into a perilous no-man’s land, the high eyries of the lighting and flying technology.
“Hope you’re not scared of heights,” he says. I fake nonchalance. It is scary up there.
Of course the performers also score very nice new digs. Backstage on two floors are snappy new dressing rooms; big for the chorus and small for the principals. The piece de resistance backstage is the most utterly superb rehearsal room. It is a vast space with mirrored walls, a barre for dancers and a sleek polished-wood sprung floor.
“This meets the size requirements of the biggest Disney-style touring shows,” says Douglas. And maybe acts as its own separate performance space? “Indeed,” says Douglas. One begins to imagine cabaret festival shows therein.
The main foyer is now at the western side of the theatre.
The neighbouring Grote street building was purchased for this purpose.
It is now new, tall, glass-fronted and geometrically handsome. Sophisticated bars, tall drinks tables, and fancy seating features are on the different floors. The higher the floor, the better are the city views out over the old market. One can imagine standing with a glass of champagne, looking out across the night lights.
And, that is what we are waiting for - the nights of champagne, of laughter and applause.
They will come.
When they do, Her Maj will be able to welcome 1500 of us at a time.
For the moment there has been just one little “soft opening” with a Slingsby youth production; small audience and social distancing. More small shows are on the cards. But, come hell or high water there will be a big show and then another and then another. It is just a matter of time.
And we can’t wait!
Samela Harris
Photography by Samela Harris
With eleven wildly successful festivals ratcheting up records for the state economy, Adelaide has taken its beautiful festival balloon and pushed it skywards and into the international future with a university course in Festivals Management.
This is another brilliant Adelaide arts initiative which thrusts the state into the pioneer limelight again.
One is cheekily tempted to start putting down bets as to when the frenzy of interstate emulation may begin.
Adelaide always has led the way with arts administrators. They have been a proud, albeit unofficial state export for generations.
Now, via today’s revelations from Festivals Adelaide CEO Christie Anthoney, we are formalising the qualifications and creating an exciting broad-church, artistic directors' and festival managers' springboard straight out of UniSA.
Students may major in Festivals Management as they do their Bachelors of Creative Industries degrees.
The doyens of the eleven festivals will be teaching their skills to the upcoming generations, reveals Anthoney.
WOMADelaide’s legendary Ian Scobie will lecture on budgets, for instance, and the Fringe’s ever colourful Heather Croall will teach her ways of successful growth and the joys of digital platforms.
Others of our eleven festivals include SALA, Adelaide Film Festival, Feast Festival, Oz Asia, the Guitar Festival, the Cabaret Festival, and of course, the Adelaide Festival itself.
As Festival Management students contour their courses, they will be able to add their own specialist elements, from philosophy and fashion to tourism and art.
Anthoney says they have been studying the various specialties and expertises of festival management people and finding their qualifications highly diverse.
While she admits that one of her favourite things is a spreadsheet, she would like, if faced with the choices, to add philosophy and psychology to her academic palette for such a course. "This is just the beginning of the syllabus,” she says. "It will continue to evolve through the rest of this year.”
Interestingly, as Anthoney points out, there is already a Festivals expert on the staff at UniSA. He is Adrian Franklin formerly of Tasmania’s renowned MOFO festivals and his expertise includes an understanding of the historical question of why people have always come together to celebrate.
This is a phenomenon Anthoney herself finds heart-warming, fascinating, and profoundly significant.
Arts festivals have been a substantial source of serious employment in SA. The 2018 economic impact study showed the gross economic expenditure rose by 29.2pc to $345.9 million and a wonderful 1045 full time equivalent jobs added in that year.
But Anthoney readily admits that the arts which breathes so much financial vigour into SA is a truly ephemeral and mysterious thing. There is much to learn and understand about its extraordinary human chemistry.
Anthoney sees the wisdom of academia and experience as a possible way to “put a light” on it all.
Of course, she adds, a university qualification will not be the only way to open the door into festivals. Volunteering has been a solid path into the industry and it will remain so.
Indeed, Festivals Adelaide has been researching our “really resourced, cultured army” of about 3000 festivals volunteers.
It is a solid, devoted squad which has come to be used by all the festivals. Where once it was largely over 60s demographics, it has been expanding. It is a significant resource with its own strong potential.
But Adelaide Festivals has been working widely within the arts support community, and, with the support of the Office of the Ageing, there has been considerable research into how the powerful and dollar-rich older demographic interacts with diverse festivals. To that end, says Anthoney, various changes quietly have been underway, among them such things as increased watering stations and bag drops at WOMAD.
Both the Festival and the Fringe recorded record growth for 2019 before figures even emerged from the other festivals. The children’s Dream Big festival, formerly and famously known as Come Out, finished only recently with bumper sell-out seasons which some critics protested really needed to be longer to allow more audiences to attend. The History Festival was massive and now the city’s winter arts celebration, the Cabaret Festival, is at its height and packing out its diverse venues spread around the Festival Centre. Artistic director Julia Zemiro can only bask in its sequential triumphs, many reviewed here on this website. Our critics have noted an exciting, daring surreal edge to her program.
In a new study on behalf of Economic Research Consultants, Professor Barry Burgan has revealed that in 2018 alone the combined economic impact of our 11 festivals has lavished the city with no less than $109.1 million of “new money”. That is a 27.7pc increase on 2017.
It is an extremely good news story,
So thoroughly have the arts been rocking the pockets of the city burghers that Festivals Adelaide have celebrated by commissioning our distinguished and amazingly appropriately named artist, Peter Drew, with a commission to express our relationship to our festivals in new artwork. It soon shall be seen in the city and online.
Samela Harris