The Drill Hall Project / Nadja:Léona
August 2017 I am in Paris working with dancer/choreographer Gesa Piper on material for Nadja a new performance based on the book of the same name by André Breton. On returning to Melbourne, Australia I will continue the creative development with Jo White and Michaela Pegum.
Reprisal of The Drill Hall Project
The Drill Hall Project will be reprised in April 2018
a few responses:
There was so much to enjoy, but I think overall of a kind of cinnamon darkness, almost like river water, that the images dissolved in and out of. It was peaceful and reflective and sad, but with contrasting big surges of brass, ball bearings roaring and a marvellous tuba solo! I couldn't help comparing it in my mind with Lehte's bright boxes and the confined lines of Heide and its dance ... whereas here all seemed vast and wide and swirling and dark, the dancers blowing across like dandelion seeds. It was really beautiful. Margaret Trail
The Scores
Three scores from Lehte II made for Heide Museum of Modern Art are on display as part of The Scores an exhibition at The Ian Potter Museum of Art, the University of Melbourne, 1st August to 5th November.
Nadja/Léona
Nadja Monologue
Scene 1 Oct 4
This life is wearing me out. I am going nowhere, anywhere, worn with the effort of living and the worry about money and my lack of it.
As I pause to cross the street I notice a man on the other side. He is well dressed and I smile weakly, willing him to cross over and speak to me.
He crosses and falling headlong into my eyes asks what I am doing here. I quickly reply that I am on my way to the hairdressers to explain my shabby appearance and then begin telling him the story of how I came to Paris.
How perhaps stupidly I left my lover in Lille when he least expected it, for fear of getting in his way, and when I saw him much later here in Paris I noticed for the first time that his last two fingers were joined together.
The fact that all the years we had been lovers I hadn’t noticed this deformity has always confounded (puzzled) me. Could love make one so blind?