It was weird for me to go to a show at 93 Kel­burn Parade, hav­ing com­pleted my own humble BA at Vic almost 20 years ago.  In fact, #93 was the site of at least one audi­tion and more than a few rehears­als for me.  It’s had a bit of a facelift, now being an actu­al little black­box theatre rather than just a big room, but the smell was the same, as was the uncom­fort­able heat gen­er­ated by many bod­ies.  It was nos­tal­gic to be crammed togeth­er with a bunch of stu­dents, and to add insult to injury, we were all giv­en a read­ing on decol­on­isa­tion to do before the show, which was com­pletely impen­et­rable (at least to me).

James Wen­ley, or should I say Dr Wen­ley, is a dram­at­urge and lec­turer at Vic­tor­ia Uni­ver­sity.  He was inspired to write a show of his own while on a research trip to the famed Edin­burgh Fringe.  The inspir­a­tion became a com­pul­sion and the show was writ­ten at the same beau­ti­ful desk at which he com­pleted his PhD, the same beau­ti­ful desk that shares the stage with him.  The themes are, sort of, per­form­ance, mas­culin­ity, white­ness and priv­ilege.  But the driv­ing theme that struck me was a rather sweet and awk­ward search for approv­al, in a world where being a tall white edu­cated cis man gives you an auto­mat­ic advant­age, and a plat­form.  He asked us and him­self, should he have made the show?    Is it right to use a plat­form oth­ers have to struggle to reach to dis­cuss the injustice of their struggle?

Wen­ley is clearly a bril­liant lec­turer.  He eas­ily engaged the audi­ence, owned the space, and spoke artic­u­lately and per­suas­ively about per­form­ance, priv­ilege, and his jour­ney.  He danced, he stripped, he used a pro­ject­or, live video feed, and a mic to argue against his own com­ment­ary.  It was all very pol­ished, and extremely self-deprec­at­ing.  He knows all the devices and arti­fices per­form­ance uses to make a point, and he adeptly used them all, while sim­ul­tan­eously explain­ing how those devices served to manip­u­late us.  Clev­er, and fun to watch.  And Respect – he worked his ass off.

Wen­ley told stor­ies about him­self, his fam­ily, his exper­i­ences, all in the per­fectly enun­ci­ated and pro­jec­ted tones of a Theatre Per­son.  Don’t @ me; I do it too.  As the show pro­gressed, it evolved into some­thing dark­er; an inter­rog­a­tion of his motives and his right to the stage.  Very val­id ques­tions, and very com­plex, and Wen­ley artic­u­lated them with grace and hon­esty.

There was still that awk­ward­ness, though…  I think because with all the ques­tions Wen­ley was ask­ing us, and ask­ing him­self, there are no answers you can really unpack in an hour and a half.  Rather like a lec­ture, we left thought­ful, won­der­ing how to justly use the space we’ve been giv­en.  I left won­der­ing why all the review­ers I’ve met are white, most of them older, and mostly dudes.  Are our opin­ions so import­ant that we feel we should gen­er­ously share them with every­one?  It’s a little sham­ing.

Every­one has a show in them.  And every­one has the right to pro­duce it.  And with this show, I think Wen­ley was abso­lutely using his powers for good…  he made us think about what we’ve been giv­en that we did not earn.  We don’t have to abdic­ate our plat­form, but can we shuffle over a bit and share it with someone in great­er need of amp­li­fic­a­tion?

Dr Drama Makes a Show was fren­et­ic, earn­est, and very well-mean­ing.  It did not solve all the prob­lems in the world, but it star­ted a dia­logue.  I think Dr Wen­ley should be bloody proud of that.  And also provide a read­ing list, please.

 

Dr Drama Makes a Show

93 Kel­burn Pde

3–7 March, 5:30