Everybody loves owls, right? Those big, wise eyes. Their ability to navigate to Hogwarts. The fact David Bowie could transform into one at will (although that may have just been inLabyrinth).
But should you find yourself posting an advertisement for a willing stranger to dress up as an owl and watch over you while you sleep – because let’s face it, those bed sheet voles aren’t going to eat themselves – perhaps your ornithophilia has gone too far. What kind of person would advertise for such a role? And what kind of person would answer it? As the opening of Perch approaches, writer-director Sarah Carradine reflects on how this surreal performance found its wings.
“We’ve had two seasons of the show already, in Boston and one off-Broadway on 42nd Street. Those were towards the end of last year. The process this time around meant doing an extensive rewrite … well, ‘extensive’ is a big word,” Carradine laughs as a cement mixer goes lumbering by. “We did a rewrite from the beginning, so we’re obviously testing that now, seeing it’s what we want and learning the lessons of the past. The interesting thing in the US has been how much audiences there want to engage with you after the show. For example in Boston, after our first show we had an advertised Q&A, as you do, and at every other show we had people asking if there was going to be a Q&A afterwards. Well, there wasn’t, but [we said], ‘Since you guys want one!’ They wanted to know where it came from, how everything works together. But then, the rest of the Q&A becomes Brian [Carbee, co-writer and actor] and I marshalling their discussion as they talk to each other about what they thought the play was about. It was absolutely fantastic.”
The solo performance in Belvoir’s Downstairs Theatre will undoubtedly make for unusual fare, and while the story was devised and developed with Carbee in mind, the production has its roots in real life. When Carradine spied an ad on Gumtree seeking a night-time protector dressed as an owl, the veteran director knew she had found the perfect peculiar vehicle. Yet just as the premise itself is strange and otherwordly, so too should audiences ditch expectations of traditional storytelling.
“I’ve done two shows Downstairs, it’s a fantastic space. The shows we did in America were on very different stages, so it’s quite an adjustable piece. We know the general shape of it, but we can alter it to suit different sight lines. I’ve done shows in America before, but narratively they were always very A, B, C, D. This one is more *, #, 3, 8, B, 5. I did have the thought that perhaps for American tastes it wouldn’t be linear enough, but that wasn’t the case. So I feel like we’ve had the audience I thought would be looking for something a bit more literal, and now we’re bringing it to a town with an appreciation of experiment, poeticism. I think Sydney audiences can be very responsive to less-than-naturalistic work. Hey, and that same cement mixer is back again!”
There is clearly some kind of divine metaphor in the reappearance of the truck – solidarity? Determination? Gravel? – but the nuance escapes me.
“With a piece like this, the initial rehearsals we did 18 months ago saw us asking, ‘What is really happening here?’” Carradine says. “Because if Brian and I don’t know what’s happening, then an audience is just going to be cast adrift. You can’t just say it’s a fantasy and leave it at that, you know? So when you see it, be assured that we do know what actually happens! We’re not necessarily going to tell you, but it’s all there.”
Staged in conjunction with the Sydney Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras, Perch promises to be a play of great poignancy and pathos, laced with strong visuals and humour – aided in no small fashion by Carbee’s history as a dancer. While both performer and director have certain ideas of what the message and motivation of the play might be, these are inherently personal connections; it is their hope that audience members will be similarly, uniquely moved.
“There are a couple of things Brian and I don’t agree on, but that’s fine,” says Carradine. “But we also don’t want to tell people what it’s about. I wasn’t so interested in her, in the person who wrote the ad. I was interested in who would answer such an ad – that’s where it all came from. I’d been looking for a play for Brian to do that someone else had written, and then fortunately all of this came together. But Brian is more interested in the woman who wrote the ad, and it seems like most other people are like that too. The intriguing thing is that audiences have a very definite idea of what they think it’s about, and that has been great. Are there two people? If it’s only one, which one? How much of it is real? It’s very pleasing that they have their own vision.
“I’ve never had so many people tell me that they’ve dreamed about Perch, that they keep thinking about it. The character of Perch is a strange little man. I think it’s tapping into something which we perhaps all have, which is the idea of the protector, the watcher. But of course, often that is a very flawed protector.”
Perch plays atBelvoir St Theatre,Tuesday February 9 – Sunday February 21.
