Jasmine Joyan

International Women's Day takes place this year on Friday, March 8, and the 2024 theme is Inspire Inclusion – it's all about celebrating women's achievements, raising awareness about discrimination, and taking action to drive gender parity, as we move towards a gender-equal world free of bias, stereotypes and discrimination.  The annual day of solidarity and activism has become a rallying point for people around the world to unite, celebrate and brainstorm solutions to the ever-mutating challenges we face. Feminism takes many forms, and each female-identifying person should feel like they can celebrate IWD in a way that truly explores their experience. To that end, we’ve selected a range of different ways to experience International Women's Day in Sydney this year. Psst... Have you heard about All About Women? It's the Sydney Opera House's annual feminist fest, with this year's line-up including a conversation with Mary Beard and a candle-making workshop with Nonna's Grocer.

What would you do if you were struggling to afford to pay your rent, gas, and electricity bills, only to discover that you’ve been priced out of paying for basic groceries too? When the quick-witted Antonia (the prolific actor Mandy McElhinney – who, yes, is also “Rhonda” from those insurance ads) and her fellow weary housewives discover that prices at the local supermarket have doubled overnight, their shopping run erupts into a revolt. The women begin to loot – or, as Antonia would describe it, “liberate” – food off the shelves. When the excitement is over, Antonia finds herself back home with a random assortment of fruits and vegetables, dog food (she doesn’t own a dog), canary pellets (she doesn’t own a canary) and rabbit heads. She enlists the help of her neighbour Margherita (Emma Harvie) to hide the stolen goods from her moralist husband Giovanni (Glenn Hazeldine), a staunch unionist who’s a stickler for rules and due process. The supermarket riot sets a ripple effect of absurdity in motion, ranging from a briny phantom pregnancy with added  “womb olives”, to an unconscious cop with a flatulence problem – and that’s just the highlights.  ...simultaneously leaves you wheezing from laughter and slightly deaf from the roars of others No Pay? No Way! is two hours and twenty minutes of comedic gold. Marieke Hardy’s laugh-out-loud political satire initially premiered with Sydney Theatre Company in February 2020, before it was plagued by lockdowns. But with the way that the

What do the terms “Nicomachean Ethics” and “lying whore” have in common? They are both used in the same sentence in A Fool in Love, Van Badham’s (Banging Denmark) snort-out-loud new romantic comedy, which uproariously kicks off Sydney Theatre Company's 2024 season. This is not an ‘exhale air from your nose while watching a funny scene’ kind of show – be prepared to discover how you truly laugh (and wheeze, and snort) in this fantastic performance.  The play is based on Spanish playwright Lope De Vega’s 17th century farce La Dama Boba, with a script curated thoughtfully to a contemporary audience whilst preserving the core themes of golden age comedia palatina works.  Badham has created an impossibly high bar for comedy... Badham’s work is a masterclass in adaptation, one which is so meticulously tailored to Sydneysiders that it brings praise to her anthropological skills in acknowledging each of the Harbour City’s archetypes. Badham stays true to the tropes of a simple romantic comedy, however she elevates this story through parodying clichés of Sydney archetypes, which provides a level of localised humour and complexity that effortlessly expands the story.  The play is set in the fictional sun-drenched, coastal town of Illescas, a few hours away from Sydney. We open on two men seen rhythmically thrusting away in a dance – and with those pelvic thrusts, begins the story. A once-wealthy businessman, Otto Otavio (Johnny Nasser) is at the brink of financial ruin. His only hope o

In 1901, the word ‘bondmaid’ was found to be missing from the Oxford English Dictionary. A century later, this simple oversight catalysed an epiphany in the formation of the theatrical debut of The Dictionary of Lost Words. Directed by Jessica Arthur and adapted for the stage by Verity Laughton, this play based on Pip William’s bestselling novel is an astounding performance set during the seismic events of the late 19th and early 20th century, at the height of the women’s suffrage movement and the dawn of World War I.   The play begins with protagonist Esme Nicoll (played by Tilda Cobham-Hervey) observing her father, the lexicographer Harry Nicoll (Brett Archer) from beneath his desk as he is researching and curating the first Oxford English Dictionary. In what can only be described as the first vibrations of a ripple effect, a slip of paper with the word and definition of ‘bondmaid’ (a "slave girl") falls onto the floor, where a five-year-old Esme innocently watches her father and his colleagues work. This moment reverberates into Esme’s interest in the compilation of ‘lost words’ – those words discarded, forgotten and considered not worthy enough for the Oxford dictionary. (And why is it, that so many of those words that fell through the cracks have something to do with women?) Laughton’s script exceptionally translates the novel to stage…allow[ing] for greater emotional investment The Drama Theatre at the Sydney Opera House is transformed into the scriptorium of Oxford for

Visitors are meant to leave. Right? The premiere of Jane Harrison’s The Visitors at the Sydney Opera House marks the second rendition of the acclaimed play since its smash-hit debut at Sydney Festival in early 2020. The performance, directed by the legendary Wesley Enoch and produced by Moogahlin Performing Arts and Sydney Theatre Company, is a fantastically critical and speculative historical fiction that leaves you inspired and hopeful. Harrison’s play is set in 1788, where seven Elders from each respective nation across the region we now know as Sydney gather to discuss the looming nawees (the First Fleet) sailing towards the Eora nation (Botany Bay). The play focuses on the discussions within that meeting, and explores the varied suggestions for what to do about the strange boats heading closer towards their shore.  ...this play humanises history and recenters Indigenous presence and engagement, simultaneously in the past and for the future. The premise is simple: how do we come to an agreement about understanding the unknown? Each character represented provides dimension into what becomes a very difficult question to resolve. Both Harrison’s meticulous dialogue and the deeply considered character development of each Elder adds colour and complexity to this question. It is very easy for performances about historically marginalised and colonised groups to become patronising or dogmatic parables – this production completely evades such superficial discussions, executing a p

Beauty and the Beast the Musical revives Disney’s 1991 animation in a theatrical masterpiece that captures a tale as old as time, through the panorama of a multi-sensory spectacle in this two-and-a-half hour production. Before you see anything, it’s what you hear that captivates your attention. The orchestration by Danny Troob and sound design of John Shivers completely shifts the atmosphere in each scene, accentuating that gravitas of emotional range of the characters and their circumstances. The presence and influence of the music and orchestration is truly felt in the few moments of its absence. In an artform where too much music can easily become overkill, the sound design shifts seamlessly between diegetic and non-diegetic to support transitions between dialogue and musical scores.  Shubshri Kandiah, who plays Belle (and who also played princesses in Disney’s Aladdin, Roger and Hammerstein’s Cinderella and Belvoir St Theatre’s Into The Woods), has become Australia’s go-to princess, and deservedly so. Kandiah’s performance carries the youthfulness and animation of a Disney cartoon while exuding the elegance of a woman born to be royalty. While Belle’s disdain for Gaston (Jackson Head) falters in the pair’s duet, ‘Me’, this oversight is beyond compensated for in her timbre and melody throughout the rest of the performance.  Head plays the repugnant role of Gaston delightfully. His performance elicits a tug-of-war of admiration for his execution but also an unease at

In traditional American fashion, a truck stop diner is intended to be a place for temporary respite and sustenance – a break on a highway before continuing towards a destination. But what happens when you mistake the diner as the final destination? Two-time Pulitzer Prize winning playwright Lynn Nottage reflects on this purgatorial conundrum in Clyde’s. The celebrated play makes its Australian premiere at Sydney’s Ensemble Theatre.  Set in a kitchen diner amidst a backdrop of drug abuse, homelessness, poverty and echoes of the prison-industrial complex, the premise revolves around three cooks; their head cook and life guru, Montrellous; and their demanding boss, Clyde. What follows is a Prufrockian reflection on the past, present and future of these characters. The weight of the performance is carried by Denis, who embodies Clyde’s character like an alter-ego The play begins with a masterful performance by Nancy Denis, who plays Clyde (portrayed on Broadway by Uzo Aduba of Orange is the New Black fame), and Charles Allen as Montrellous. The pair are wrapping up a conversation, and whilst we are not privy to what Montrellous has revealed, what is established is the stark dichotomy between the hopeless and the hopeful – a tug-o-war which underlies this entire performance – all whilst making a grilled cheese sandwich.  In a performance which is laden with sombre themes, Nottage’s characters navigate the world with humour, and her sharp and entertaining dialogue cuts the heavines

How soon is too soon? With the raised eyebrows which confronted Opera Australia’s most recent production of Madama Butterfly in 2019 and 2022 – not to mention the contested use of “yellowface” in a recent production of Turandot – Opera Australia’s latest production of Madama Butterfly on Sydney Harbour opened with bated breath. But as it turns out, not soon enough!  Madama Butterfly is a moving performance for both newcomers and aficionados of the opera... You can’t help but watch in awe at the poignancy of the location Innovative Spanish director Àlex Ollé’s interpretation of Giacomo Puccini’s 1904 opera is back after it first ran on Sydney Harbour in 2014. Under Ollé’s vision, revived by Susana Gómez, this performance provides a prism into a classical tragedy which refracts a multitude of interpretations while still staying true to Luigi Illica and Giuseppe Giacosa’s libretto.  Set against the twinkling cityscape of a stunning Sydney Harbour, Mrs Macquire’s Chair on the edge of the Royal Botanical Gardens is transformed into the coastal town of Nagasaki. The minimalist and nature-esque set design in the first act – a beacon of hope, tranquillity and delicacy – contrasts with the jarring construction of over-development and urbanisation created in the second and third act. Despite this duality, both of Alfons Flores’ sets could seamlessly fit as part of the Sydney landscape; providing a self-actualising reminder about the beauty of our own natural world whilst reminding us o

Rodger and Hammerstein’s Cinderella has finally made its debut in Sydney, and it is an irresistible invitation for your inner child to indulge for a few hours into the wonder and magic of musical theatre. In times where adapted movies and theatre performances can feel overdone, Douglas Carter Beane’s take on this classic princess tale is a homage to great storytelling. Audiences will be immersed in a family-friendly and extremely witty performance with the power to win over any watching sceptic or intellectual. Be prepared to be enchanted as the Sydney Lyric Theatre transforms into a medieval kingdom through the work of scenic designer Anna Louizos. You cannot help but suspend your disbelief as Louizos’ backdrop transitions from Cinderella’s house, to Prince Topher’s castle and to the town centre (to name a few settings) in a seamless transition which provides a heightened experience of theatre. It is hard to be able to keep an audience consistently in awe, but the beautiful lighting design of Kenneth Posner manipulates the cool hues of purple, blues and whites throughout the performance, which upholds a sense of marvel and magic throughout the production.   The story sticks to the bones of the traditional Cinderella fairy-tale, where “Ella”(Shubshri Kandiah) lives with her venomous stepmother Madame (Tine Bursill), and stepsisters Charlotte and Gabrielle (Bianca Bruce and Matilda Moran). Upon the ethically ambiguous advice of adviser Sebastian (Nicholas Hammond), Prince Toph

Playwright Julian Larnach describes this play as a “powerful family portrait”, and that is perhaps the best way to frame this performance. This 75-minute play, adapted from Favel Parrett’s novel of the same title, paints a story of three brothers living on the ruggedly beautiful but unforgiving southern coast of Tasmania as they deal with the death of their mother and the presence of their abusive father, an abalone fisherman. The performance begins with a moving monologue on time and memory, which is jolted with a sudden change of scene to the brothers on a boat with their father, working on seas as unsteady and dangerous as their treacherous patriarch. This jarring shift between scenes sets up the theme of the performance - one which, although raw and vulnerable, is albeit, unclear. Director Ben Winspear uses actors Meg Clarke, Ryan Hodson and Griffin McLaughlin in a multiple role performance exploring the brutality of childhood and adolescence. Whilst conceptually this appears to be quite a fascinating choice, its execution falls short at times, leaving the audience uncertain about who is playing which role. This comes at no fault of the actors, who provide a strong emotional range. It is in the central moments of tension that the audience can find its bearings, and we are provided the luxury to be completely immersed in the battles that brothers Tom, Harry and Miles face. Without throwing around too many cliches, it would be an understatement to say you could hear a pin

Be sure to leave all expectations, assumptions and “colonial constructions” (as performer Mel Ree aptly puts it) at the door. This 65-minute poetic performance is a demi-biographical tapestry woven from the multifaceted nature of trauma, memory and belonging.  From the moment Ree enters on the blacked-out stage, crawling into a small, hunched position, there is a looming and overwhelming presence felt. Even when reduced to a fetal position, Ree establishes her command of the stage and makes you realise the opportunity to view her performance is a rare privilege.  Ree’s control throughout the performance blurs the boundary between Mel Ree the performer and Mel Ree the persona. Ree expertly reels the audience in – as she  confronts the  abuse and loneliness of her past, you are unable to look away, implored to relive it alongside her.  Blessedly, the timely execution of self-deprecating humour provides a light touch of  comedic relief. Ree’s witty one-liners, breaking of the fourth wall, and choreographed movement (from the guidance of the skilled choreographer Fetu Taku) all colour this profound exploration of a troubled adult with an inner child who simply wants love.   There is a seamless integration of the tribulations of trauma into  everyday life. Ree personifies the concept of memory, allowing the audience to meta-theatrically observe and experience the mind of a person who has suffered through hardship, leading us through a stream of consciousness which goes from happil

Far from the macrocosmic cityscape of Singapore, Golden Blood, a two-cast play, begins with an awkward encounter between Girl (played by Merlynn Tong, who also wrote the play) and Boy (Charles Wu) in Girl’s apartment. The distorted dynamic parallels an uncomfortable first date filled with tension and formalities, only for us to discover that this is not a date, but a reunion of two estranged siblings. Drawing loosely from Tong’s own life, the story begins after Girl and Boy’s mother dies. Twenty-one-year-old Boy visits Girl, who is seven years his younger, offering to become her guardian. The siblings very quickly interpret the number seven as the Chinese symbol of both good luck and bad luck – a subjective duality that director Tessa Leong deconstructs throughout the show, which also spans seven years of their relationship. The 14-year-old Girl is a wide-eyed teenager, often seen clutching her toy koala, who dreams of becoming a veterinarian in Australia with a feverish reverence. After some convincing, she is excited to sign off for Boy to become her legal guardian. He promises to make them both rich. Girl’s passion and enthusiasm is supplemented with a softness and vulnerability which Tong at times draws out a little too dramatically. Girl appears too juvenile for her age, however what Tong lacks for Girl in her youth she brilliantly compensates for in Girl’s seamless evolution as a 16, 18 and eventually a 21 year old. The depth of Tong’s Girl is evident in the consistent