Review: The Harry Harlow Project

Love is a wondrous state, deep, tender, and rewarding. Because of its intimate and personal nature it is regarded by some as an improper top...

Review: Structure and Sadness

The melancholy of modernityThere’s a poignancy in looking down over a city from a plane that in certain moods can be overwhelming. The struc...

So I gave in...

...and am now twittering. Anon Commentator was right: in some circumstances it would be useful. You can find my tweet (singular) on twitter....

Ms TN prevaricates. Again.

In the two weeks since I returned from the UK, I have been out at the theatre for seven nights. Given that I swore a solemn oath to keep my ...

Bits, bobs

Briefly: a kerfuffle has emerged in Sydney over Belvoir St's decision to hand the Philip Parson's Memorial Lecture over to a panel w...

Review: Life is a Dream, When The Rain Stops Falling

The most contemporary thing about contemporary art is its crisis...The Accident of Art, Paul VirilioIt's always interesting to revisit a...

Review: Africa

I’ve often pondered the astounding ability of puppets to generate intense emotional responses. How is it possible that we can identify so fi...

Women in theatre: the Philip Parons Memorial Lecture

Keen theatrenauts will have no problem calling to mind the on-going debate over the place of women in Australian theatre. Sparked by a seaso...

The Native Returns

Yes, faithful readers: your truant blogger has returned from the fleshpots of the northern hemisphere, having bounced around England and Ire...