Review: The End, The Dream Life of Butterflies

The catastrophe of the body is never far away in Samuel Beckett's writing. Mortal, decaying, risible, smelly, full of inconvenient humou...

Well, how about that

Quick pointer this morning to Peter Craven's latest peroration on the Evils of Postmodernity in this morning's Age. Which gives me a...

Brief: The Wau Wau Sisters' Last Supper

The Famous Spiegeltent is back in its cosy niche in the Victorian Arts Centre forecourt, lighting up the grey environs with a pleasurable se...

Perth Festival: Trust, Aftermath

Ms TN is now back at her desk, dazed and bizarrely jetlagged after a mega-packed week in Perth. With some cunning scheduling, I managed to s...

Perth Festival: My Bicycle Loves You, Waltzing the Wilarra

Ms TN is not normally in the business of doling out writing tips, of which there is a sufficient plenitude online: but here's one. If ev...

Perth Festival: Out Of Context - For Pina, Martha Wainwright

On Sunday afternoon, I saw les ballets C de la B's performance of Out Of Context - For Pina at the stunning new Heath Ledger Theatre, a ...

Perth Festival: Donka: A Letter to Chekhov, The Red Shoes

Sometimes there's an unexpected serendipity to picking festival shows. So it was on Saturday, when your humble correspondent landed in P...