It’s a strange thing to sit in a venue and not feel part of the experience. Others around you are likely swept up in what’s presented, yet you feel a disconnect. It’s happened to me a few times at concerts, when the young girls squealed in raptures and I felt underwhelmed. And I felt it again when I saw Mary Poppins live on Friday night.
The moment it really hit home was somewhere in the middle of the extended, or drawn out, version of “Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.” It seemed to go on and on and it seemed everyone in the theatre was singing that infernal chorus over and over again, clapping their hands in time. And I thought “Well this is all a bit silly, isn’t it?”
To be fair, I wasn’t a great fan of the Disney movie. I saw it as I saw many others of the vintage, but didn’t rewatch it tirelessly the way I did Bedknobs and Broomsticks. I decided to go see the stage production though as everyone had raved about it, and my parents and husband were keen. And besides, I had never met a musical I didn’t like. Famous last words.
Mary Poppins wasn’t all bad. Verity Hunt-Ballard had the presence and poise to pull off the role of the imposing but kind-hearted titular nanny. Phillip Quast’s Mr Banks had just the right amount of bluster. The children were quite lovely, not at all as cloying as child performers tend to be. I wasn’t entirely convinced by Matt Lee’s Bert, but boy that man can dance.
And as a spectacle, Mary Poppins certainly exceeded my expectations. I’ve never seen set design like it, with the Banks house folding up and down and every which way to take us into the rooms and up to its roof, with the lights of London twinkling all around. And no one could fail to be impressed as Mary Poppins flew off into the night. The only problem was, when she did it at the end of the first half I didn’t particularly want her to return.
Where Mary Poppins missed the mark for me was heart. I couldn’t help thinking back to seeing Hairspray a few weeks prior, and the way I felt so invested in it. It wasn’t as glittery, but it seemed to have more soul. At so many points in Mary Poppins I felt detached, uninspired, and frankly a bit bored. I just couldn’t get swept up in it all. Clearly I’m one of the few that feel this way. The countless Helpmann Awards, glowing reviews, and comments of my own family members tell a different story. I guess it just goes to show that you really can’t please all of the people all of the time.
Image source: Newtown Graffiti @ Flickr
A lot of years have passed, but I was every bit as impressed as I caught them on their extended reunion tour last night at Lizotte’s. “The Cubby House’s” small stage was warmed up by singer-songwriter 
Bachelor Girl have certainly lost nothing over the years. If anything the time apart seems to have done Tania Doko and James Roche good, as they appear to be performing with real joy. There’s an easiness about the way they appear on stage that can only come from so much time together.
I had high expectations, which were happily met. In many cases the performances were better than the ones we saw on the big screen. I guess that’s what happens when you can choose your players based on talent rather than their box office power. Esther Hannaford definitely outperformed Amanda Bynes’ insipid Penny, and while Queen Latifah was no slouch I think Cle Morgan brought added soul to Motormouth Maybelle. I’d also take the all-singing, all-dancing Jack Chambers over Zac Effron’s Link Larkin any day, and my inner teenager went nuts for Tevin Campbell’s Seaweed. I thought Nikki Blonsky was a wonderful Tracy Turnblad, but the Sydney star Jaz Flowers was every bit her equal.
Thankfully we were all settled in for Andy Bull. I’d enjoyed the music I’d heard from Andy before, but experiencing it in a live setting brought it to another level. This is probably one of the larger venues he’s played, but he made it feel so intimate with his stories about the songs and sweet, self conscious manner. It takes a very special performer to fill a theatre with just a voice and some keyboards. Despite being excited about Joshua’s appearance, I was a little sad to see him leave the stage.
Let me take you back to last Saturday night. It was a night where the end of the world was nigh, or at least we were told that it was. I was pretty sure there’d be no Rapture, but I figured if there was at least I’d go out seeing one of my favorite Australian performers, 
Image source: Stephen Katulka
But before Amy and Emily took the stage we were warmed up by Henry Wagons. And warm us he did with his quirky alt-country tunes. He was without his band, with only an acoustic guitar to accompany him, but his big personality filled the stage. My husband wasn’t too sure what to make of him at first, but by the time Henry got to his closing song “Willie Nelson” he was joining in the chorus.
There was less quirk to the Indigo Girls but a similar raw energy. This is music the way I like it best, without frills or fuss, back to basics. With only acoustic guitars, a mandolin and harmonica, and two sublime voices the American girls wowed me. I understood why they’re such legends in their home country, and wondered why they’ve never really caught on here. I felt privileged to be exposed to their exceptional songs and musical prowess, like someone had let me in on a secret. I have my husband to thank for that, and I do.
My mediocre night started with Tinie Tempah. I have no clue who thought it’d be a good idea to pair the inoffensive piano pop of The Script with the stylings of this brash Brit rapper, but it was a weird mix, to say the least. I hated his music, but was amused by his arrogant on stage persona. There’s something very contrived about a performer who demands crowd participation. People will wave their hands in the air and sing along if they feel like it; you really shouldn’t need to push it. I also feel a bit cheated when a performer merely raps over the work of other musicians, but that might just be me. The Video Hits loving crowd on the floor seemed to lap up his set, but I spent it giggling and cringing at his over-the-top antics. At least I was entertained.
Hearing the familiar piano driven music of The Script was a welcome respite from all that hip hop garbage. The Irishmen delivered a really solid set featuring tunes from their self titled debut and their sophomore effort Science and Faith in equal measures. They interacted with the crowd, and I couldn’t help melting every time they told us how much they appreciated our support and country. We sang along loudly to the big hits, no prompting needed. See Tinie? We’ll sing if we want to.
But before she graced us with her presence it was Casey Donovan’s turn to charm us. I’ve been a fan of Casey’s since her Australian Idol days, and I was thrilled to see she’s only gotten better. Accompanied by a single acoustic guitar she delivered a stunning stripped back mix of covers and original material. Casey’s always been a master at delivering a song, but I’m thrilled to see her stage presence now matching her delivery. She’s come a long way from the quiet teen that wowed us in Idol. She bantered easily with the crowd between songs, charming us even more with her confidence. I was desperate to see Cyndi, but also disappointed to see her all too short set end.
I’ve got a fairly crowded concert calendar, but the show I was most excited about was Eddie Vedder at Newcastle’s Civic Theatre. The chance to see one of my childhood heroes, the lead singer of Pearl Jam, at such a small, intimate venue was just too thrilling to pass up.
Western Australian music royalty came together last night for one amazing show at Newcastle’s Civic Theatre. This grand old theatre was made for the intimate music of artists like The Waifs and Mama Kin, and the attentive crowd lapped it up.