2.6 Performa(nce)tivity with Dino Dimitriadis

Transcript

Hey, I’m Aiden. And I’m Matt. This is Hung Up. This week we’re joined by Dino Dimitriadis. Dino is a curator, producer, director and actor, founder of the Apocalypse Theatre Company. They’re a veteran

of theatre and performance in Sydney, but I get a sense that they’re not just interested into the theatre. Dino, thanks for being here. Hey, thanks so much for having me on. You are most welcome. Lovely to have you. Veteran, that word always makes me think, you know, I’ve been doing it for so long, I’m like, but… Yeah, that is a funny word, veteran. It’s like

the kind of the word you have to use when you’re introing someone who’s like, you know, big deal on a podcast. Veteran of the field. Veteran of the field. I almost said, uh, highly decorated, but, uh… Yes. Oh, look, when I’m, you know, with the nails and the hoops, that’s probably highly decorated, but, you know, veteran, I’m going to have t-shirts made. It’s good.

So, the first thing I think we’ve got, um, the first thing that we wanted to talk about is, um, kind of distinguishing live theatre stuff from art forms like a movie. So, so, um, there’s this kind of, um, immediacy that everyone talks about, uh, in a theatre, even

from the perspective of the audience, um, seeing humans, you know, act, perform. Um, we wanted to ask you what’s so special about live performance. What’s, what’s specifically different about it from, uh, something like a movie? Yeah, it’s a great question. And I think that, you know,

something that we as live performance makers are always wrestling with because a lot of us, myself included, I mean, I, I do move between, I, I curate other art forms. I’ve, I’m doing some work in, in TV and film at the moment too. People talk about the liveness and use that word a lot. It’s live, it’s, it’s present, but, you know, when you, when you unpack

that a little bit more, it’s, you know, what does that actually mean? Um, you know, the, the incredible thing about live performance is there’s, there’s a series of transactions happening. I mean, it’s, it’s live for the performers in that you cannot, you know, even with rehearsal and with trying certainly from a director’s perspective to have a certain

muscular experience that you create around the show, it’s going to change every night. It’s, it’s, it’s not a static work, um, in the same way that, that a film ends up being. Um, and you know, the, the other big thing about it is you’re, you’re bringing together

people into different people who don’t know each other into shared space. There’s a sort of communal ritual that kind of happens with live performance that might not happen when you’re watching a film solo or, you know, um, especially now when people are so used to consuming digital content alone in bed or at home or in lockdown. Um, and, and also that

it’s completely ephemeral. I mean, you know, it’s, it’s funny. We have, we have some, we have reviews and responses and some photography from live shows, but they don’t actually capture the experience, the actual texture of being in the room. And that’s sort of left into the realm of memory, which is a very interesting space. And you hear people talking fondly about

shows they’ve experienced, whether it’s a music gig or a theater show. And, and yet, you know, it, it, it doesn’t have that sort of artifact that exists in the same way as a film. Hmm. Yeah, that’s, that’s interesting. I was going to sort of, um, test you about, uh, the,

because you, you, you started out by, uh, kind of describing it from the, uh, you know, director’s standpoint or an actor’s standpoint, which is someone that sees all of the different iterations, manifestations of the show over its whole lifetime, you could say, but, but most people will just go to one little slice of that, almost like a photograph of it. Um, but, but that’s, that’s

interesting what you say about, um, it’s sort of residence in people’s memories of it. Like, yeah. Um, you know, we were, we were just talking about photos a couple of episodes ago, but yeah, one of the main things that we kept sort of having to come back to again and again was the kind of flattening effect that photos have on everything. And I find photos of theater very

frustrating for that reason. It’s, it’s almost like, it’s almost like a joke, you know, it’s, it’s, there, there couldn’t be two more, uh, dissimilar things. Yeah, absolutely. I mean, my, my theater work is, is, has very sort of, is very focused around the design aesthetic too. Design is important to me. So, so the photography sort of is a great way to, to, to showcase the experience

of the aesthetic, but you can never capture the, the texture, the energy of a work that, that transaction that happens between performers, but also between the performers and the audience. Um, you know, and the longer you make live performance, I mean, you start out thinking you can take on a play and, and craft a certain experience. And, but you soon learn that,

you know, you, you cannot control actually what you’ve put out and what, what you, what you do, because I think a lot of people also think that making theater is sort of, you know, we, we just tell people to move around, but actually there’s, you know, you’re working towards a really robust and muscular craft where you can keep nuancing and use your skills to, to shape the universe.

And you hope that people take a texture away, but in terms of people taking the same thing away or creating something that is going to be the same experience for every audience member. I mean, that’s, that’s something you, you very quickly realize is just not the reality of it. It’s out of your hands. Yeah.

Totally. In a sense. Yeah. That’s really cool. I really like this, um, kind of separation as there’s kind of two pieces that we’ve narrowed theater down to, or two unique pieces that it has. One is like the liveness that you were speaking about, Dino, which is, I think the first thing that comes to mind. And then the second was like the communal kind of element. Um, but I guess what’s

been interesting to me is like, now that we’re on the cusp of, uh, Sydney opening back up, I’ve actually been like, you know, I guess everyone’s probably been doing this, like fantasizing and thinking and like talking with their friends, like, Oh, what should we go and do? Like, where should we go? Like, should we go see, you know, what live thing should we go see? Yeah. Uh, you know? And I guess it’s also kind of funny. I’ve been looking at like the cinema a lot and like,

you know, it’s not live, but I’m kind of excited to go see a movie with a bunch of people. So for me, I guess like kind of the communal experience of going to the theater to see a live show and the communal experience of going to the cinema are similar. Um, so I don’t know if like, I don’t know if I feel comfortable saying that like, I don’t know, like the communal

element is a unique part of theater, but I would love, yeah, I would love if we could like, like the three of us drill down into like the, like what exactly is that texture of liveness? Like, what does it feel like to be in the audience or on stage or even in the like directorial maker’s role, but like, really, what are you feeling when you’re in that

live space? Yeah. I think the slightly nuanced thing about the, the live theater, for example, experience is that that communal process extends to the performers, you know, like you don’t get that with the screen. I totally, I totally agree with you that I don’t think theater has a sort of sanctity of kind of ritual gathering, but I think that there is something electric about also knowing

that part of that communal liveness, other people who are up there doing things that they’ve sort of, you know, planned or rehearsed or, but that things could go wrong. Things could be, you know, and that there’s an energy too, and it shifts every time and, and they’re feeding off which, which group of humans is in the room opposite them, um, every time as much as sort of defaulting to what they’ve kind

of brought or the expectation they’ve brought of the, of the work that they’re kind of presenting. So there’s something about this kind of circle that’s interesting to me, this, this, this feedback loop, I guess, if you like that, that, that is this, you know, people talk about the fourth wall in theater. Like there’s no, you know, there’s no fourth wall, which is that kind of, you know,

imagined barrier between the viewer and the performer, but it’s, it’s more complex than that because there is this kind of transaction that like people will sit in the dark, which I challenge because I think we also need to re-interrogate what theater is now and what theater should be now.

But, um, yeah, for, for a more traditional kind of traditionally how it’s operated is there’s this, yeah, that, that, that transaction loop is two ways. Mm. Yeah. I, I think we, I think we would have to admit that that fourth wall is transparent. Mm. Um, you kind of have to mime it, you know, in, in traditional theater. And, and I think,

you know, even just on a physiological level, like we know when there’s another human in the room or, you know, in the amphitheater or wherever we are, uh, around the fire in the cave. Um, I think like, um, you know, to ignore that, that human connection would, would be, um, an oversight. Um, but yeah, I, I, I, I’m with you, Aidan and I, and I have a bit of experience

performing, but as a musician, which is its own kind of, um, acting, but you know, it’s much more diminished. And I just wanted to add, um, how my perception of time changes when I’m sort of in the spotlight as it were. Um, you know, I’ve been talking a little bit about, um, time to you, Aidan,

but we’ve kind of been, we’ve kind of been, um, interested in this idea of, um, kind of avoiding the sort of plain old duality or dichotomy of like, time goes fast, time goes slow. You know, there’s, you, you brought up memories, which, which I think is the, the organ that we use to generate

our perception of time. And I think we should have, we should really be thinking about it in biological terms, like, you know, thick and thin and dense and light time. And I think for me, when I’m on stage, time gets very light and, and it, it slips through my fingers, you know, unlike, unlike anything else. Um, and it also kind of gets compressed for me. It’s like,

you know, uh, uh, you know, it’s like the whole thing kind of, um, is squashed in. It’s not just that it moves faster. It’s that, you know, three or four songs might, might change order in my, in my recollection or, you know, things will, will, will kind of, yeah, it just sort of, it sort of has all these different effects. Do you, do you, um, find that stuff? I’ve,

I’ve seen you on stage a little bit. Um, but, but do you, do you, do you find that kind of stuff to be true? Yeah, I, I do. And, you know, I, I watch, I tend to watch a lot of my shows as, as, as a director too. Like I watched it a lot, like a lot of, a lot more shows than some other directors might, because I’m interested in that, that shifting thing. And when you know it works so well,

you have a different experience for it, but there are some times where it goes, you know, it feels like it just flies by and other times where you’re kind of, you know, thick as you’re kind of describing. And, um, you know, totally time is, is so interesting. And also this idea of sort of liminality is very interesting to me. This, this, this ability

to sort of transcend into kind of like a liminal space. And when I say transcend, I don’t, again, I’m not, I’m not one of these like religious theater people, like, who are like, theater is a really sacred art form and we need to like preserve it. I’m pretty, I’m, I can be equally irreverent about it, but, um, it’s just this kind of, if you manage to kind

of have these moments, you can create moments that almost go into a liminal space. It’s, it’s, it’s kind of, you know, it can be kind of liberating or freeing or people can kind of, yeah, lose complete concept of time. It is interesting. Yeah. I guess like I’ll, I’ll be the like audience, um, stand in cause

I don’t really perform. Maybe I would like to one day. Um, but I’m thinking about, yeah, that word transcendence, I guess it’s kind of like a scary thing and it’s kind of a gross thing to say or whatever, but it’s also kind of cool. Like as an audience member, I’m thinking to like some of the plays I saw, I saw, uh, did you hear of a dance nation? Yeah. Sort of the UK

with like, I think I saw Brendan Cowell as like the kind of scary, angry, um, dance teacher, like kind of pushing all these, um, like, you know, 12, 13 year old girls to sort of, you know, in a dance mom style race for, um, what would you call it? Like dance glory and success. And it was a really

moving play. And I saw it with my partner at the time. And she was kind of, I remember she was like moved to tears and it was a really special evening and it was a really special theater to me. It was kind of, um, you know, in this new country and they used to do like 10 buck tickets for under 25s. And it sort of became this, you know, once every couple of months, um, what would you call it?

Like routine and like part of my life. And I felt very thankful to have theater like as part of my life. But yeah, I remember like seeing a couple of plays there and feeling not that I had transcended, but like feeling like the performers were transcended, like they weren’t, they weren’t just people anymore. Like they were symbols and they were greater and they were, you know, moving us to

tears and doing all those things that like, you know, uh, your teachers in school tell you that theater can do like it can, you know, show you about the world and teach you about, you know, humanness. Um, so yeah, I don’t know. I’ve felt, and like, yeah, even seeing you on stage, sometimes Matt, I definitely think of like seeing another side of you, like a more kind of,

like, um, I don’t know if like primal is the right word, but a more honest self honest in the sense of like you’re untethered to norms in the same way that you are when you’re just existing. Um, so yeah, I don’t know. Like, I don’t know if you, if you two have any thoughts on that,

but I definitely feel like there’s a certain, um, like majesty or significance that the performer takes on from an audience member’s perspective or they can.

So I, uh, don’t remember where I got this from, but, um, I was listening to some, some podcast about, uh, magic and it’s not really, um, it was, it was almost in like an etymological sense of the word, not in like a, uh, Lord of the Rings, you know, kind of context, but, but they were kind of proposing

that, um, you know, we got the idea from acting, uh, from, from, you know, a good actor can kind of, uh, summon or, or, you know, evoke, uh, another person or a creature or a monster, you know, something that, that, that never existed. And, um, I just thought that was a really interesting way

to think about, yeah. Magic and theater. Yeah. It’s, it’s really interesting listening to this and, and, you know, what’s just to pick up on something you said, Aidan, like this idea of culture and how we consume art forms like theater is interesting to me. Like you were saying that, you know, your experience became a kind of life

experience where you’d regularly go to the theater. And that’s certainly true of my experience, for example, in Greece, whereas in, in Australia, it feels like such an event to go to the theater. And I just wonder how much, you know, that kind of consumption of, of art as, as, as more of a quotidian thing rather than event affects that kind of magical experience. Like if we, you know,

if we kind of, um, how much reverence we place around experiencing live performance versus just kind of consuming it frequently. Hmm. We were talking about this last night, Aidan. Yeah, no, this is great. This is something that we wanted to, to get into and it’s a huge question. And I guess, um, you know, the, the way we come to consume something, it’s kind

of like the medium is the message, right? Like the role that it takes in culture, um, and, and, you know, exactly like you’re saying, like how regular it is, how special it is. Um, that’s 100% going to shape our experience of, of the art form. I think there’s no denying that theatre is in a similar cultural position as contemporary art, as poetry, as dance, where,

you know, they’re not as popular as movies, video games, TV, like by a huge degree. And there is a certain sense of, I guess, like, um, difficulty and fear. Like, is that, is that fair to say? Like people feel intimidated by, uh, theatre, art, poetry. Um, there’s a lot of baggage. And sometimes

we’re in this like annoying position as people who love this stuff of like, just wanting to like it and then also kind of having to defend it or to like, be like, nah, trust me, it’s not shit. Like, it’s cool. Like, it’s really cool. Um, yeah. Which can be a bit, a bit tiring sometimes. Yeah. It’s interesting. I mean, theatre, I mean, maybe all live performance, but I can speak,

you know, more to sort of theatre and that is, is really facing a series of crises and reckonings at the moment. I mean, we’re having big conversations around representation, diversity, what, what the content is. And I think that some of those crises are actually tied to what you’re saying, which is that, you know, we might think that we’re creating a safe space by asking people

to sort of sit in the dark and have this transaction, but the very structures that present theatres are so inaccessible to so many people. And so, you know, it’s, it’s, I often thought for a long time that it’s about trying to create access points for different humans and communities to come into the theatre spaces. I reckon my thinking now is about actually just destroying some of the structures

that are in our theatre spaces too. Um, I don’t think it’s about bringing people in. I think it’s about actually going out. Hmm. Um, can you give us an example of what that would look like? Yeah. I mean, I, I, I give you like an example is like, you know, many of the conversations we’re having around diversity. I mean, I, I can talk to gender, for example, as a, as a, as a gender

diverse person, like it’s, we’re seeing, for example, so much, we’re so far behind in Australia around trans and gender diverse content everywhere, film, television, theatre. Um, you know, certainly the UK and the States are far ahead. And when it does happen, like, you know, and it’s starting to

happen and it’s slow, but you know, it’s, it’s, it’s not enough to kind of go, we’re going to put a play on with a trans character. It’s, there’s still a huge barrier for trans humans to come into those spaces and feel safe. You know, like if there’s, if you walk into a theatre space and, you know, there’s gendered bathrooms and then you’re expected to see a trans play, it’s, it’s not that

they’re not actually safe spaces, but it’s not just about the facility. It’s about the culture and about, you know, the content makers and about who green lights things and, and what the kind of, and this is a huge reckoning that theatre is facing with the diversity conversation, which, and I hate the word diversity. I sort of prefer like just, you know, realistic reflection. Um, but

it’s, there’s some serious growing pains at the moment and for a lot of people and communities and, you know, paying a ticker price and sitting in the dark and, and being here and the performer there doesn’t work for how they want to consume liveness. It’s a great point. Do you, do you feel like your,

uh, the, the, the, the places that you, that you’ve, the theatres or the productions that you’re involved with, do you feel like they are contending with, or, or even, um, you know, admitting the presence of this kind of very dominant new way of consuming, which is this kind of like

rapid fire Instagram world, um, you know, short attention span, reflexive viewing. Do you feel like this new world kind of figures into productions from the ground up or, or does it, or is it, you know, just like reflected in the ticket sales and then, you know, maybe we’ll, you know, we’ll, we’ll get a new

bathroom next year kind of thing. Do you, do you feel like there is a, uh, a reckoning going on? Yeah, I do. And I think for some it’s more accelerated than others, but I, I do think, and even if they don’t want to have the reckoning, it’s sort of being forced on, on them. I think that, um, you know, a lot is shifting. I think there’s, um, we’re now at a point in time, a very interesting point where

certain communities, um, who have not had access, um, have sort of been able to mobilize to sort of have enough of, you know, a voice now to kind of push through, like, you know, the example I give is that for a long time, the LGBTQI alphabet soup had to kind of present as a united front, you know,

to kind of get visibility. Whereas now, um, you know, we’re, we’re starting to acknowledge some of the nuances and like the fact that there’s, you know, a lot of gay men who are transphobic, for example, one of the biggest barriers to transphobia is gay men or other, you know, what I’m trying to say is that we’re now at a point, for example, in trans representation, where the gender diverse community doesn’t need to kind of address other queer visibility.

They’re like, no, we, this is what we need. Um, and there’s even kind of differences of opinion within that, but it’s so, so people are being forced into certain reckonings by some of the kind of great, you know, movements and conversations about time. Um, but also the way we consume content,

I think we, I think we can’t talk about experiencing art without kind of talking about the ways our content consumption has evolved. Yeah. I think like, uh, for a long time, the kind of establishment, the art establishment, be it visual or theater or music, anything, well, maybe music, not so much,

but, but that kind of establishment has, has, uh, sort of rejected and, and hits news on the idea that, you know, Instagram actually, and, and Facebook and YouTube, like they all have a bearing on our perception, our, our, you know, reception of art. And, and I think to ignore that just it’s, it’s seeming more and more, you know, uh, out of touch, you know, like, um, for example,

thinking about memes as an art form, it’s kind of still, even today, it’s kind of like, um, it’s, it’s sort of frowned upon and like uncool for big institutions to even recognize the existence of memes, you know, but you know, on, on, on the net, it’s like literally everyone’s, uh, everyone’s

developed this like shared language, this whole new language, visual language, which is, you know, has so much to do with art that it has just kind of been rejected. Totally. It has like, you know, I would be shocked if I saw, you know, many theater companies have a TikTok account, you know, even though the consumption is like, we’d probably sell them so many tickets if they’re doing interesting

content, you know? Yeah. I wonder if there’s kind of an intentional, uh, distancing from some of that stuff, like almost from, uh, yeah, I don’t know. It almost makes me feel like a kind of class positioning where some of the institutions would take pride in not being like of the masses. I don’t know if that’s like a pretty, it’s a super hot take. I don’t know if it’s true, but

look, I think you’ve, I think you’ve hit the nail on the head. I think one of the things that we never talk about in Australia is class, you know, and that’s certainly the case in the theater. It’s an in-life performance. It’s like, you can’t have any conversation without talking about class. And it’s like, um, you know, when you can kind of subscribe to a streaming service on your laptop

for, you know, 10 bucks a month versus like investing $60 or sometimes a hundreds to go see a live show. It’s like, well, fuck. I mean, how do you expect that to have sort of similar consumption? Yeah. Australians like to think that, you know, unlike British people, we don’t care about class,

you know, like, um, a tradie can speak his mind to a lawyer on the street or whatever. But I think that’s, I think there’s like some fucked up, like Freudian stuff going on with class here. Like we, we were just talking about kind of authenticity before. And like, you know, there’s this whole like sort of world that’s like this beneath the surface world of the kind of posturing

and class struggles and people acting as, you know, working class when they’re actually upper middle class and people upper middle class, like fretting, pulling their hair out about their privilege and how to, how to sort of contend with that and how to operate as an artist say, or even just as a human, you know, with that knowledge that, you know, you have it better

than someone else does. I think, I think you’re right. It’s just a completely unspoken thing.

Um, there was one thing though, that I’m kind of like, is not quite satisfied. You were talking Dino about two things about like this kind of exclusive and the way I kind of read it is like,

um, like it’s almost like a threshold. Like sometimes I think of it about like, even just going into like a fancy coffee shop, like there’s like a certain type of person or certain people. And we all have spaces that we’re more or less comfortable in for whatever reason, you know, some of us are uncomfortable in like a shit coffee shop, like full of tradies. And some of us are

uncomfortable in a really nice one, like a really nice, like minimalist Japanese one. And so I was thinking about like exclusiveness as like this threshold, like, would you even think to buy a ticket to the theater? Would you feel comfortable, you know, going through those big glass doors? Would you know the like little rituals of, you know, you buy a drink and there’s a, uh,

that what’s the break in the middle of the show called the intermission? Like, do you know all these little rules? And there’s so many rules. Um, so that’s kind of, yeah, one thing. And then the other thing was just to go all the way back to the beginning and think about like liveness. And you were talking about, um, kind of sitting in the dark, you’re talking about

like a really traditionally scoped understanding of theater, right? Where it’s like audience sits here, uh, stages here. It’s like X many acts, um, you know, kind of all this sort of traditional theater vibes. Um, and then I was just thinking about like, um, liveness in general. Like I remember being at

Coogee beach and seeing like a fire twirler and like everyone’s like eating ice cream and like standing around them. And that’s, that’s people enjoying liveness in a way. Right. Or like, um, you know, pit street performers or like buskers, like these kind of like, I don’t know what you would call it. Like it’s, it’s kind of crap, but people kind of like it still.

That’s great. Totally. Yeah. I don’t know if we could maybe just talk a little bit more about like, yeah, getting back to like, yeah, some more thinking about the essence of liveness and then maybe what you were hinting at, which was like, you know, what could theater look like that wasn’t constrained to that audience in the dark performers on a stage, you know, inside of intimidating,

you know, space. Yeah. Cause it is being made and it’s electric. You look at immersive performance or, you know, there are, there are forms of theater making that are, you know, sleep no more was a show in, in New York that, you know, is, was sort of revelation experience for a lot of people, traveling immersive show where you kind of, which again was playing on this idea of experience,

you know, like this is why I love going to live music gigs because there’s this wonderful kind of lightness, I guess, you know, of the experience you can, I can hold a drink. I can, um, chat to someone. I mean, generally there’s a respect for the performer and you’re kind of quiet when they’re

performing, but it’s not the same way where there’s those rules in a theater space or a tradition, I should say a traditional theater space. So, you know, liveness and performance when they’re kind of consumed more culturally rather than a sort of destination event, uh, are really interesting transactions. Yeah. That, that’s, that’s, um, that’s really, that’s a really good point.

This is really dorky. Oh, and Aiden, I think we’ll, I think we’ll, no, no, let me finish. Uh, Aiden, I think we should get to some of your, your points, but I have to make a Shakespeare reference. Um, so the thing is, um, okay. I have been reading a bit because we have a copy of Macbeth next to the

loo. So I’ve just been like checking some lines out, but I keep thinking about the globe theater and how people would stand. And, you know, I, we don’t really have that much, um, like there, there, I believe there are some pretty good, like firsthand accounts, but I bet you that most of the

people that went to see those things weren’t the type of people that, um, would write, you know, a historical account and then keep it somewhere safe for 400 years. I, I have this feeling that, you know, they were, they were, um, like side splittingly funny, double edged, like double entendres for like drunk people as if you were at a pub. You know what I mean?

Heckling. It’s documented. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. It’s just, it’s so, it seems so much more like what we all want out of theater, you know, like you could yell at King Lear, like, fuck you dude. You know, he’s behind you, you know, shit like that. And today we’ve, we’ve sort of, um, we’ve,

we’re met with this like refined elegance, like Aiden, you were saying all the rules, you know, and, and, and yeah, it sort of shuts people out. Um, Dino, can you, can you imagine any kind of like, can you imagine putting something on? Like, I mean, I’ve seen some of your stuff at the old, uh, yeah. Yeah. But can you imagine putting something on where, you know, it’s like that,

like people are standing up and like pissed off, you know? Look, I can, because, you know, part of my kind of thinking going forward, I mean, is look, I love in certain works, if people are kind of there receiving the work, but there’s other contexts where, you know, I do want people drinking in shows. I want, you know, I want to create work where people can fucking suck during shows. I mean, audience members, like, you know, I think that

we’ve got to really kind of break open, that there’s room for all kinds of performances, that there’s room for if people want to go sit in the dark and watch, you know, Shakespeare, which is my current version of hell, um, that they can do that. And I will respect their choice to do that. But, uh, you know, I think, I think one of the things we don’t talk about is like

fucking boredom. Like I get so bored by a lot of the theater I see and I make theater. That’s my work. Like it’s, it feels like such a controversial thing to say, but it’s like, you know, especially now with lockdown, it’s like, and the amount of streaming content I’ve consumed and how fast

I consume content. It’s like, when I go back to the theater, there’s so many people’s shows I’m not going to fucking say. Why do people find it boring? Dino, you asked me this once long ago. Yeah. Uh, why? And now I’m asking you why, why is it boring?

Look, I think that, I think it’s, it can be a lot of things. I think it could be what we’re talking about, about the experience. People want it. Like people want experiences. I think now, you know, that it’s like, I mean, that’s a generalization, but I think people relish when they do have a good experience and, you know, there is an opportunity in live performance to

really craft experiences that are kind of much more than some of those rules and transactions we talked about in, in the, in the traditional version of the form. Um, but also like just crudely like the, the speed at which we consume content, you know, the fact that we’re so used to doing scrolling through a social media feed really quickly and picking up content.

And if someone’s like sitting there kind of, and it can be electric if, if time slows down, what you were saying before, and there’s this liminal moment and the world stops and we can consume the content, but other times it’s just fucking boring. Yeah, sure. It’s like, you know, it’s, it’s, it’s a lot to ask of a stage to compete with,

yeah, like a Netflix production house, you know, it’s, it’s just the, it’s, it’s a David and Goliath like set up. And it’s not that should it compete? Sorry, I think that’s also the challenge because there’s such different mediums, but it is about always kind of interrogating before you put something on like, like why and who’s this for and what are they actually going to get from it?

Yeah, no, that’s a great point. I guess I was just a little bit uneasy when, yeah, when we’re talking about like something’s turning in my stomach when it’s like, ah, we’ve lost, we’ve lost people already. Like there’s TikTok, like they’re done. They have no attention span. Like, I don’t think we’re really saying that, but I just want to double down. Like people are very capable. And I’m also like, I still, I think it’s fair to expect, um, like a lot

from an audience, right? Like it’s, it’s fair to, you know, not talk down to an audience and to be real with an audience and, and make complex and, you know, intense art. I wouldn’t, I don’t like the idea, especially cause like Netflix is almost like a art service second, right? Like I think Reid Hoffman, the CEO was like, our number one competitor is sleep. Like

it’s, it’s, it’s not cute. Like it’s not cool. Um, like Netflix has, has beautiful things on it. And I’ve definitely felt, you know, very connected to certain TV on Netflix, but yeah, it’s, it’s super cool. This idea of, um, yeah, like, like what it can be and what it has to be.

Yeah, absolutely. And I, I think you’re spot on that. We’re not, we’re not saying that those, you know, that, that that complexity can’t exist and that there’s also not, because they are different mediums, something so incredible about when it resonates for people. For me, it’s just about that. The comparison is more about like, why do people feel a barrier to some

liveness more or art more than others? And, you know, it’s, I guess what I’m just trying to say as well is I, I sometimes think when I say boredom, I just go like, it’s just sometimes I think things are created just with the expectation that just by creating them, they’ll, they’ll be consumed and

consumed well, you know, whereas it’s just that constant thinking and I don’t have answers to it, but just that every time that you’re kind of making something live, that you’re wrestling with its liveness. Yeah. Awesome. I love that. I want to suggest like a really simple biological premise. Like when you compare sitting in a seat, like, you know, that thing of like, if you’re in a bad mood

or whatever, and it’s like some like wellness article, you’d be like, why do I feel shit today? And it’ll be like, are you lying down? Like, have you drunk enough water? And like, even something so simple like that, like you’re sitting in a seat and you kind of squashed in next to people and it’s 90 minutes and you’re not really allowed to like say or do anything like that will make you bored. Most of the time, unless the play is really good, like you will have like anxious thoughts,

intrusive thoughts. It’s a weird experience. You’re not used to it. And then I’m thinking about the type of liveness that people really find easy. And the ones that come to mind are like music and like standup comedy, like, and in a cool way with like standup and music, you’re, you’re, well, sometimes it’s standup, I guess you’re sitting down, but you’re like usually at a pub,

like somewhere really casual or like a more casual space, you’re a bit drunk, you’re allowed to stand and you’re allowed to respond. Like we did kind of, you guys were saying this earlier, but you’re kind of in a feedback loop with the performers, right? Like you’re laughing and they’re telling jokes and like the whole energy is, yeah, really this super visible connection. And the same with

music, like, is the crowd dancing? Like Matt, like is the crowd, you know, whereas I guess at a play, maybe, maybe you can sense how much the crowd is enjoying it. You probably can, but it’s not quite as overt. Yeah, absolutely. And then it comes down to like, you know, the, the form of the play and,

you know, people use these crude markers, like it’s a drama or it’s a comedy or, you know, whatever, but there’s certain types of work that might not create that opportunity for as much of that feedback loop. Like laughter is such an energizing thing for a performer. It’s so active, you know, because it’s actually like on a very kind of elemental level, a sound, you actually have

this, this body in front of you, like this, this body of human body, but also the audience body, like actually interjecting and intervening and piercing the space. It’s unmistakable. It’s, you know, you can’t decide to do a genuine laugh, right? I mean, an actor on the stage hearing the

crowd laugh knows that they’ve landed that line perfectly, you know? Yeah. Yeah. It also makes the crowd feel good. Like, cause if I’m sitting next to you, like I could be bored and you could be loving this play and I don’t really know, but if we’re all laughing at the same thing, there’s also like a sense of like equanimity across the crowd, like, oh, we’re all enjoying

this together, which I think is kind of a really nice feeling. Yeah. And what that strikes on is like how the, how the crowd is, is relating to each other, you know, the fact that they can see each other in certain settings, the fact that, you know, I love theater when the audience is in traverse. So it means that there’s a seating bank facing each other and the stage is in the middle when you can

watch other audience members as much as you can watch the show, you know, or immersive theater or live music where you’re in a pub or in a, in another kind of loose setting. It’s like, it’s so great when that relationship between people like enjoying whatever they’re doing just is, is in different formats. Yeah. I love this. I love this. Like, it’s like kind of building this kind of sustained

thesis across this episode that it’s like, it’s not the, it’s not the content as much as it’s this kind of probably a stale context, which is not allowing like the quality of theater or how cool it could be to kind of, I don’t know, we’re just making, it’s almost like we’re making it harder on ourselves to enjoy it. I would, I really, now I really want to go and see something where,

you know, it’s at the pub or something like that just, that just sounds like so much fun to me. And, you know, it doesn’t, it wouldn’t even have to be like an elaborate, you know, designed costumed show because just that, that sort of interactivity and the kind of like rudeness of it, I think would be so compelling for people. Yeah. So compelling. I mean, that’s also why when I work, I like to, you know, it’s, it’s not great

commercially because of the numbers, but I like to work in small spaces because it’s, um, you know, yeah, it’s great to play in a 500 seat theater, but you lose something. Whereas I just, I try and, well, you can lose something. You don’t always, but you know, I like that kind of intimacy.

Do you have anything more you want to add? Well, I guess I am kind of interested. We were just reading your Instagram post, Dino, and wondering whether you wanted to talk, I don’t know whether that was a project you kind of, in that post was saying, you know, something about a new project that was beyond just the stage, which is what we’ve been talking about. I don’t know if that’s something you can talk about, but.

Yeah, I guess for me, I sort of reached a point in my practice where, um, I’m looking to evolve the kind of live performance I do. And it’s not that I won’t do theater. I love the theater, but you know, I’m really interested in mixing forms. Um, I’m very much interested in a kind of queer theater aesthetic and bringing queer artists into the space and, and, and therefore queer audiences,

you know? Um, and so that, that, that decision to close what has been a 12 year project for me is, is as much as about drawing a line really, and starting a new chapter and kind of going, there’s this body of work, but, you know, to, to kind of move forward without baggage and baggage can be good as well. There’s a lot of good baggage with that company, but it’s, um,

the opportunity to kind of create multi-form live theater works and, and think about the aesthetic and think about where we’re making work and thinking about the intersection of technology, um, and the stage, you know, um, I think one of the things we haven’t talked about, which I don’t know if you want to, but like I, someone mentioned authenticity and I think

there’s a really complex relationship between authenticity and performativity. Hmm. Um, yeah, I’d like to unpack that a bit. If, if you, um, if you could speak on that for a minute. Yeah. I think, you know, we’ve, we’ve talked about this idea of performance and performativity and,

and what is authentic and, um, you know, it, it, it’s really interesting to me how the one informs the other, you know, I was, I was, and social media is kind of a great example of this. Um, I was doing some reading recently about Trump’s 2016 Twitter campaign. Um, and, you know, it was so,

and it’s so interesting and the, and the kind of ideas around this is that it wasn’t so much the content of what he was saying. Like there’s obviously a lot that’s been written about the content, but actually the way it was done. Um, yeah. And that the performativity of that, the semiotics of

that, the science systems around how he did it, um, created this notion of authenticity that we were seeing the authentic Trump. Yes. You know, he was, he’s, he’s, he’s a master of performative language. It’s, it’s so much more like sitting and talking to someone the way he writes than it is reading a

politician’s, you know, prepared speech. And I think that’s what people resonated with. You know, he could have said anything. It feels like, I mean, he obviously hit the right political, like, you know, bullseyes, like whatever racist shit or like, you know, just dumb shit he was saying. Like you’re, I think that’s, you’re right, Dino to, to kind of filter that stuff out because,

you know, his, his language, uh, and this was one of the things we were just talking in our, talking around in our prep session was that, um, some language, some words are more performative than others. Like, um, for example, the word apple doesn’t do much, you know, it’s, it’s a piece of fruit, but, but the word thank you, like does something, you know, it’s an action. Um, and yeah,

I think that’s, I think that’s such a fascinating dimension of language that it’s a, it’s just a little bit slippery for people doing like BAs to like come out of uni, like fully fledged, you know, linguists with like a firm grasp of the power of language. You know, I think it takes,

it takes some sort of consideration to like, to really apprehend that stuff. Sure. There’s a really cool Overland essay that I, that I was thinking of as you two were speaking. I read it like five years ago and I just want to bring it up. It’s called form versus content and it’s about, uh, Julia Gillard and I’ve just brought it, got it up and it’s, uh, I’ll read

you a bit of the paragraph comparing Gillard’s two anti-misogyny speeches illuminates how delivery influences public reception. The two speeches were given by the one politician produced close together in time, addressing very similar themes with the second clearly intended to emulate the effects of the first. Yet the first is widely remembered as Gillard’s finest moment, or the

second is remembered as the moment when her public support melted away. And it’s a really cool essay because this writer takes like a linguist take. It’s like linguist VN Volitionov offers a rather simplest approach for exploring these speeches and kind of gets into like a, exactly what we’re talking about, about, yeah, how that form can be so powerful and, you know, how it makes certain

content so believable again, that like, um, the medium is the message type of thing. Yeah. And it, you know, I, I know for myself, it makes it kind of, I find consuming social media, for example, very love, hate, very complex, you know, because if someone kind of goes,

you know, if someone writes, Hey, instead of just high in a post or uses a certain emoji, that’s, you know, whether it’s tone or whether it’s like language structure or whether it’s, you know, what you’re, what you’re saying and like the form of it is people are hyper conscious about how they, how they perform language and perform their persona. And what it’s done is it’s

made us think that, you know, this performativity is authentic, but it’s like, you know, what is authentic performance and how much are we just kind of performative constructs? So I noticed your Instagram is blank Dino, kind of like mine. Why is that? My, my Instagram. Yeah, totally. Yeah, totally. I, well, probably two reasons. I mean, one is I,

interestingly, I do stories, but I don’t do static posts. Um, I sort of, I’ve embraced the temporal and the kind of liminal and just like the ephemeral. It’s just like, this is a moment in time in my life. And, you know, um, uh, I don’t need another kind of medium where things are static or things like that. And, um, and also just because, I mean, I, I value privacy. Like I’m, you know, I’m,

I’m not Nicole Kidman, but like even just even fucking making theater a lot, like you, you, you do articles and people can Google you. Like it’s, you know, it’s, it’s just so, for me, I’m just like, I don’t, I’m not one of these people interested in having their lives consumed even by their friends in that kind of space. Um, just like, you know, come over and get pissed

and let’s talk shit rather than like every time I eat something or buy a dog, it’s about it. No, I think you’re completely bang on. And that I think is actually quite, would you say Matt, like you’re, you’re much more in the Instagram world than me, but I think that position is quite common in the sense of people have kind of found a safer, more authentic, comfortable space in stories

like for a long time. And, um, yeah, the, the fee, the feed or like the persistent feed, especially in like the super old school way of Instagram, where it was like your highlight reel from high school to now. And it was like who you’re dating and how fit you are and how wealthy you are like that, especially in the, like inner West art world, like that’s a very like tacky way

to do Instagram, I think. Um, but then on the other hand, people are almost also like, some people are doing very cool things with Instagram where they’re like bending the media and, and pushing it. Um, so in some ways, like some people’s Instagrams are really authentic in a cool way, you know? Yeah, totally. And similarly, like there’ll be some people who think I’m performing being elusive

or mysterious, you know, like, and that I’m crafting this kind of persona around mystery or it’s like you’re cooler and you’re better than as well. Yeah. And maybe that’s a by-product of people’s reception of the form again. And it’s like the intention of the, you know, it’s, it’s this great, these great tensions between certain things. Yeah. Yeah, absolutely. I just wanted to say one

thing about the stories feature. I know that Instagram didn’t invent that. I think it’s a Snapchat thing, but, um, I just think that that’s like the genius part about it for me. And I think I get the feeling that most people spend their time on Instagram watching the stories. It would be interesting to see, you know, a split, a breakdown of it, but I’ve, I’ve felt so strongly for a while

now that the story, the story medium is such a more suitable place for like representational photographs, photographs of things, you know, where composition kind of takes a backseat to what the subject is. I just think that, that, that disappearing nature of it is, is perfect because it’s like,

you know, the photograph flattens and lies about its subject, but then, then it’s gone, you know, it’s not this like sustained, uh, illusion, you know, for in a server for the rest of your life. I mean, I don’t know how long they’re going to keep the photos up there for, but yeah, I’ve been, I’ve been looking at, cause I’ve been the opposite to you too. I’ve been posting photos on the feed

in Instagram since, I think since 2010. So 11 years guys, but I’ve, it’s never brought me any pleasure. You know, it’s just, it was just like a kind of, it was like some kind of, and in fact, it probably made my life like a little bit worse, like not, not that bad, but, but just that kind of anxiety of like, Oh, I didn’t get enough likes. I gotta, I gotta refine my captioning. Like,

fuck that. You know, I don’t, I don’t give a shit about captioning. So, uh, you know, I, I, I’m, I’m, I’m jealous of how unburdened you two are with, with this kind of, uh, you know, this kind of attic of posts that I’ve got. But yeah, come and join us. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. I’m going to nuke this shit. Shaved heads and our crossed legs and our superiority. And our thin soup.

Our mealie soup. Yeah. Yeah. Really cool. Um, yeah, I guess one last thing on the Instagram thing that I’d be interested for you to, or to hear a take on is just, yeah, that distance, like you were saying, Dino, like I want my friends to come around and see me in person. And I’m, I’m getting a little bit scared about the distance between people’s online and they’re

real. And I guess that’s like a bit of a, like, is, can you even say that anymore? That like, you’re worried about that. But sometimes I get scared when I, when I see how different people are online to when I’ve actually been face to face with them, it, it creates some kind of weird, like I have to hold two versions of them in my brain. Hmm. Yeah. It’s something I think about a lot. Um, and you know, if you, if you know,

someone’s doing something to create a persona actively and then people know that, you know, that’s, that’s different. But I think, um, this barrier makes people kind of keyboard warriors. It makes people, you know, we’re also in a culture of shameless self-promotion, which I don’t love. Um, yeah. And, and, and a culture now where we’ve eroded the notion of the expert,

you know, now everybody’s an expert on everything, um, and free to share their opinion about anything. This has created, as you say, and it, it, it, it, it’s something that I think about, like this divide between reality, the real person and what, what kind of thing we’ve, um, seen about them. You know, you mentioned earlier, Aidan, in some of our discussions,

the idea of chatterbait and chatterbait is very interesting to me. And I’ve been watching a lot of chatterbait as part of research for a project. And, um, it’s so interesting. I believe you. Huh? You don’t believe me. I’m just putting those coins in, just getting off on chatterbait.

Research. Research. I’ve become addicted to the performativity of it. And I’m not even talking about like, like after you, you know, someone’s like jerking off or fucking like you, you, you, you move on from that pretty quickly. Like it’s no different to kind of watching porn. But what struck me was like some of the accounts that have huge followings or things that are really electric

is like people give like life monologues. Like there was this one guy who was like, obviously had a huge following and it was like the money that he’d got from chatterbait was like really obviously helped him out. And like, he was in his apartment in New York and he was crying and speaking and monologuing to his audience. And I was like, there’s nothing different to this than like King

Leah. Like this is like direct, this is like a soliloquy. Like it’s kind of, um, and it was kind of astonishing to say that this performance of authenticity, you think that the sex act that he was doing was the kind of authentic voyeurism, but actually I was like blown away by this kind of direct conversation of this human to, to the audience. Um, and it’s incredible. I have another

friend who, who sort of, you know, performs on chatterbait and, you know, we’ll, we’ll talk to people. She’s having a, she was having a computer issue and one of her chatterbait kind of followers was helping her through the computer issue. Like it’s just this kind of different search for authenticity. Interesting. Yeah. I think the, the kind of like, um, the sort of, uh, what would you call it?

Like the kind of Protestant Christian media, like fear of porn has, has really like, um, hidden a lot of these. Cause I, I never heard about this kind of stuff, like people monologuing to camera and like, like just genuine human stuff, you know, like that’s so beautiful. And, and to me, even more intimate than sex, you know, than just sex. Totally. That’s really interesting. Yeah. And more

intimate than some of the theater that I’ve seen in like live spaces. Like I’m like, Oh my God, I’m in this sacred conversation with this person talking to me from their bedroom. Like what the hell? Beautiful. Wow. Yeah. Well, that’s, that’s a cool place to, uh, leave it. I think, um, coming back to King Lear, um, maybe in the nude. Shakespeare lives on. He’s never gonna, he’s never gonna,

he’s like hanging around like a bad smell. Dino, thanks so much for going on this, uh, trip with us. Thanks for having me on the ride.

No, no, it’s been really lovely turning to you both. Thank you. Cool. Well, um, yeah, I think we, um, I speak for the both of us when I say we wish you good luck and unburdened progress with your new journey. Cool. See you later, Dino. Thanks. That wraps up another episode of hung up.

You can find us on Instagram and hung up.au. If you want to chuck us a review on Apple podcasts, that would be sick. It would be very helpful. Cool. All right. See you next time. Thank you.

Show notes

This week we're on about performance.  We mainly focus on theatre but our conversation ranged from chaturbate to immersive performance, to Trump's way of tweeting.  Dino Dimitriadis is a curator, producer, director and actor and the founder of Apocalypse Theatre Company.   You can find us on instagram @hungup.au