As Kate and I walked around the streets of Chippendale, we noticed posters featuring artwork by Luke Temby.
I noticed another one tonight as I came home from dinner at Emad’s on Cleveland Street.
The art group I belong to has bought a couple of works by Temby, and he has created this crazy kind of universe called Cupco. It was interesting to see his works out and about on the streets, as well as in the galleries.
Kate was into town for a couple of exhibitions, including one we saw together at Seymour Centre which focussed on Sydney experimental and electronic music of the early 1980s, as part of Sydney Festival. It was so-so.
But it was good to see Kate.
It was also a lovely dinner at Emad’s by the way, along with Colin and a couple of his friends. Colin used to work with the husband, and now, retired, he and his wife are having a whale of a time travelling the world “while they still can”.
We had just been to see “The Fabulous Frances Faye” downstairs at Belvoir Street.
I’d first heard about the show maybe six months ago when a cabaret-type I know came back from Adelaide raving about the show.
Fellow blogger, Yani, has also seen the show.
In that instance, Yani was the audience participation in the show, as was I tonight.
Prior to this, I’d heard the name Frances Faye before, but had no recognition of who she was.
Her connection with Australia, it seems, was a strong one, as she played here on many occasions, including her final performances on stage and television before she died.
The closest modern parallel, in some ways, would be Bette Midler. Not in a “Wind Beneath My Wings” sense, but in the sense of Bette’s cabaret act, combining strong showmanship, excellent musicianship, and a lovely bawdiness. And, back in 1960s Australia, she was apparently, popular with the gays.
The guy doing the show, Nick Christo, performs as Frances, though not in a frock. Dressed in a suit, he performs “a show” as Frances, seeking to capture the essence of her work, rather than engage in the art of female impersonation.
And he’s bloody fantastic. He’s a wonderful performer, who sings well, is comfortable in his body as he moves throughout the show, and who effortlessly takes you into the world of 1960s cabaret, epitomised by the likes of clubs like Chequers.
Towards the end, like Yani, I became the subject of a bit of audience participation as he sang and then sat on my lap.
It wasn’t an especially well-attended show, with an audience of maybe 40 downstairs at Belvoir. The audience was, however, enthusiastic, and there was a great buzz in the room. As everyone left there were smiles all round.
It was a wonderful show that’s opened my eyes to the work of the fabulous Frances Faye.