Blogjune Day 19 - on problematic musicals

So, I went and saw a production of Kiss Me Kate this evening.

For those who are unacquainted, this is a 1948 musical, with songs written by Cole Porter, based around a Baltimore theatre company who is putting on a musical adaptation of The Taming of the Shrew. Relationships on stage mirror those in the show-within-a-show, some local gangsters get involved, and wackiness ensues.

This production aimed to modernise the show, with a contemporary setting, references to contemporary pop culture and politics, and a couple of gender-switched characters to both create more female roles and add some queer representation. Some of the song lyrics were also changed to modernise what were quite outdated values. And artistically, it was an excellent production - a tight band, wonderful performances and great set design.

Here's the problem though - yes, you can update the cultural references, and improve representation (though, to be fair, there was maybe one person of colour in the whole show...) but when the underlying plot is still problematic, then it's still problematic. I went with a friend who is a social worker dealing regularly in domestic violence cases, and I could tell that she was uncomfortable, and we had a good talk about it during intermission. We both agreed that there was a lack of real consent - or even agency - for the female lead. At the heart of this show, the character of Lilli/Kate is subjected to repeated physical and emotional abuse and humiliation, and her moment of agency is when she makes her choice between two awful men, returning to her ex-husband Fred with the song, 'I am ashamed that people are so simple' - substituting 'people' for 'women' in the original version!

Yes yes, I know it's Shakespeare, but the ending of Shrew will never not be creepy, and turning it a modern musical just makes it more archaic and uncomfortable. Plot and lyrics aside, the music was fantastic!

Ugh, I really just need to focus on having a good time at the theatre, and not overthink these things too much!

Blogjune Day 18 - on taking my leave

I recently caught up with another librarian here in Canberra, and in our conversation, they mentioned that over a number of years, they'd managed to accrue around six weeks of unused annual leave. The main reason for this was that, whilst there were mechanisms in place for somebody to cover the essentials in their absence, they didn't feel like they could really leave the role unattended for more than a few days in a row, because a lot of things would fall by the wayside and work would pile up.

My initial response was, 'Oh, that's really not good!' But on reflection, I also realised it's been almost two years since I took more than a handful of days of annual leave - when I was away for two and a half weeks, and half of that time was spent running around at a conference!

I think that we live in a society where we're now often under pressure to work as close to capacity as possible, and the reality is that if you decide to go and take two weeks of leave, somebody has to cover for you - on top of their own work.

With the last year that we've had, it's an important reminder that making sure that I take leave isn't just about me going on holidays (though that's also nice). It's also about managing an equilibrium across the team so that it's something that the team is used to. Covering for other people's duties while they're on leave is something that should inbuilt into everybody's regular routines, so nobody feels guilty for taking leave, and nobody should feel resentful for taking on extra duties.

But that said, at the end of the day, I also really need to improve my ability to trust others. I'm quite protective of the work that I do, and I need to be better at handing my work over to others to manage in my absence, and trust them to look after my babies, and not worry about having a pile of things to catch up on when I return. That's really on me - and I also wonder how much of my reluctance to take leave is less about work culture, and more about my inability to let go of the work for a few weeks.

I suspect it's more of the latter.

Blogjune Day 17 - marathon or sprint?

We're past that half-way point, and I've recently reached that point where I'm feeling the pressure of this commitment to a daily blog-post.

And even though, in an ideal world, I would have built the discipline to do a little each day, slow and steadily, the reality is that I simply do not work that way.

Some people are good at steadily pacing themselves and staying on track. I, on the other hand, tend to spend more time planning and preparing, and then go for a massive sprint to churn out a large amount of work in a small amount of time.

I'm not a great multi-tasker. I'd rather deep-dive into one thing for a day, and not be distracted by other stuff, and get all of the one thing done at once. Then then next day, I can focus on a whole other area of work, and so on.

If I only just do a little bit of everything at once, I find that it's so much harder to get anything finished.

There are definitely days when I think, 'Oh, I wish I'd started this thing earlier, and just done a little bit at a time,' but if I'm honest with myself, I kind of enjoy the rush of being super-focused and busy with one thing through an intensive short period of time - even if it's exacerbated by the stress of an impending deadline. To be honest, that's as exciting as my life gets at the moment! Why be a tortoise when you can be a rabbit (not that it's a race...).

Blogjune Day 16 - I am not throwing away my shot

So, today I got my COVID-19 shot. I would have had it sooner, except that my eligibility was announced the day after I had my flu shot, so I had to wait two weeks.

Now to wait about four weeks until my follow-up appointment. My arm is pretty sore, but otherwise no adverse reactions to report.

I think we've been so fortunate in Australia, that we've had the opportunity to act and prevent the kinds of outbreaks and level of mortality that other nations have seen. This is now our responsibility to protect ourselves, and those around us, from preventing further outbreaks. And the sooner that we get a high vaccination rate, the sooner we can get on with opening up the country properly again.

Blogjune Day 15 - Scoping the field

I'm never not keeping an eye on job ads on a semi-regular basis.

That's not to say that I'm actively job-hunting - I'm really not. But I find it useful to keep an eye on what is out there, and how the job market is constantly changing for somebody with my skills and experience.

I even apply for them once in a while - often I'm genuinely interested in the role, and want to gauge how far I can get into the the application process, and if I get to sit across the table from somebody who I admire and try to make an impression on them. I'm regularly developing new skills, and I'm often curious to see what new doors they might open.

And in terms of keeping track of where the sector is going, it's also a very useful exercise in working out where the demand is changing, and where I need to develop new skills and experience. From time to time, I'll see a job and think 'yeah, that'd be a cool job to do in a few years... but first I need to get some experience doing X, Y and Z.' Hopefully, in a few years' time, those skills will still be in demand.

I do worry, though, that by trying to think 2-3 jobs down the track, I get distracted from feeling content in any given job that I'm doing at the time. When I think back to the last few roles that I was in, they came up at a time when I wasn't actively job-hunting... it was more that they were interesting opportunities that I thought I'd give a shot. But I've now reached the point where I haven't stayed in the one same position for more than about 15-18 months. In fact, I think I'm probably at a new personal record for staying in the same job - just on 17 months to the day!

I think what helps is to have a role where you can do a whole lot of different things. This was definitely the case in my previous roles at the NLA, where there were many secondment and temporary promotion opportunities, and lots of very different roles across the library. And right now, I have a lot of creative freedom to try new things, and explore different aspects of the library sector.

But still - it's good to keep at least half an eye on the horizon, and keep track of the different opportunities that are still out there. Like Hamilton, there are still a million things I haven't done...

Blogjune Day 14 - Canberra birdlife

One of the first things I noticed about moving to Canberra, almost five years ago now, is the birds. Where, in my previous place in the inner West of Sydney, I'd be woken up by the first flight out of Sydney airport, I'd now be woken by the birds. If I were lucky, it would be the soft warbling of magpies or currawongs. In my current apartment, the nearby conifers are more inclined to attract swarms of sulfur-crested cockatoos or corellas.

From waking up, to getting on my bike for the 20-minute commute to work, here's a list of the different kinds of birds that I might spot on any given morning.

Sulfur-crested cockatoos - the screechy ones. These are terrifying if you're not expecting them, and can act as an effective morning alarm clock. As a kid, there was a guy who'd hang out out the front of the local supermarket with one of these guys on his shoulder, and had been trained to repeat, 'Hello cocky' if you greeted it with these words. I'm much happier to see flocks of the less domesticated variety these days.

Corellas - also screechy, but with blue eyes. Whilst they are almost as noisy as the sulfur-crested cockatoo, I had never seen these birds before moving to Canberra.

Galahs - not as noisy as you'd think. Galahs have a bad rep, thanks to Alf from Home and Away, but on closer inspection, they are much more charming as the aforementioned native Australian birds. They're more inclined to chirp than squawk (with the exception of their young, which are more reminiscint of a bad Bob Hawke impersonation).

Currawongs - avian predators. I occasionally see these on the balcony, and their big beaks terrify me. And it turns out that I'm not entirely unjustified - they've been known to feed on small birds. And cycling through the city around dusk, you can see them all lined up along the tops of the buildings, calling to and fro. It's a beautiful sound, but also possibly marking the advent of a Hitchcock-esque bird apocalypse.

White-winged choughs - demonic foragers. It's not uncommon to see groups of these birds scratching around patches of lawn or parkland, and their red eyes, curved beaks and haunting calls are like something that's emerged from the depths of hell.

Magpies - savage swoopers. As we approach late winter, I'm starting to keep an eye on the MagpieAlert website, because come August, swooping season starts. Last year, I had to completely change my cycling route to work. I don't even bother with cable-ties or googly eyes on my helmet. They don't work.

Gang gang cockatoos - the fancy ones
s. I only see these once in a while, but when I do it always feels like a special occasion.

I could go on... special mentions include superb fairy wrens, grass parrots, king parrots, and the occasional yellow-tailed black cockatoo. Whatever I spot each morning, it makes for a pleasant start to the day.

Blogjune Day 13 - life is a cabaret

As established, I love musicals. I also love cabaret. "What is cabaret, and how is it still a thing," I hear you ask.

Many are familiar with the Kander and Ebb musical, adapted into a film in 1972 starring Liza Minelli, Joel Gray and that guy who was in Logan's Run. People get up in a poky little 1930s Berlin Club and sing songs that make commentary on society and their lives.

Beyond that, I become familiar with the modern concept of cabaret when I attended Eddie Perfect's show 'Angry Eddie' in Duckboard House at the Melbourne Comedy Festival in 2004, which soon led me to find other up and coming stars, such as Tim Minchin, Sammy J, Yana Alana, Reuben Krum, Geraldine Quinn and the rotating program of shows at the Butterfly House. Of course, I'd associate these acts with other similar musical comedy acts, such as Tripod and the Doug Anthony All Stars.

So, cabaret = musical comedy, right? Some might say that it's a question of semantics. But one thing that I strongly associate with cabaret is an element of social commentary - usually through parody or satire - and a small performance space, sometimes up close with the performer, with no real chance of escape until the curtain closes.

Take Bo Burnham, for example - somebody whose work I've followed for over ten years now, and is a solid musical comedian, whose uses his edginess in both progressive and problematic directions.

I sat down and watched his recent 'Netflix comedy special', expecting another hour of standup and musical comedy schtick. But this was something else.

His first solo performance in around five years, this was written, performed and edited by Burnham over the past year, and takes place in one room. The premise - he's in lockdown and he's trying to write and record a show for you, the audience. Right from the outset, he's almost resentful of having to do this, and satisfy his unknown online audience saying, 'Here's some content', and then reflecting on how messed-up the world is, and yet here he is trying to succeed by making jokes, and sarcastically sets out to 'heal the world with comedy'. The problem is that he's a privileged white guy - something that he's quite conscious of, and appears to be constantly attempting to make amends for his problematic past, but self-sabotages his attempts to do so because, as he knows, it's a self-indulgent medium that just serves to continue to centre himself on the world's problems.

It's an hour and a half of continuous spiraling into further self-doubt, stubborn persistence and depression, as his hair and beard grows longer. It's no longer an exercise in 'musical comedy', but severe self-analysis and self-deprecation in the context of an increasingly unjust and online society. And, as the audience, we're right there with him, in that small room, as he slowly sinks to an 'ATL' (all-time low - not Atlanta).

This show had a profound affect on me, both as I watched it, and afterwards, considering myself as an artist, as an audience member, thinking about how I choose to exist in the world, how I relate to technology and our current online society - and how this all affects our mental health, especially during a pandemic.

And despite the recorded, online nature of this show, it feels like a cabaret in its most raw form - intimate - claustrophobic, even - personal, political... and in a small room with songs.

(That aside, I'm soon heading to interstate for the Adelaide Cabaret Festival, for a very different experience - one full of large spaces with live performance. I am very excited for this.)