In the Round

🌀 03: I’d Love It If We Made It

A week of protest, queer art, and my first audition in four years.

Ryan Hamilton

11 Feb 2025 — 6 min read

A snap of Demon Rhythm by Micah Rustichelli, a work I caught at Brunswick Street Gallery as part of Midsumma | Image: Ryan Hamilton

2006. Grade 3. I’m in a school in Vancouver built on unceded Musqueam, Squamish, and Tsleil-Waututh land, the only Australian in class.

I remember we did a regular show and tell, but the only items I ever remember showing was a CD from my Mom with Yothu Yindi’s Tribal Voice and a newspaper article about how the Great Barrier Reef would die by 2020.

As an eight year old on the other side of the world I think I assumed that Yothu Yindi’s Treaty had single-handedly forced the Australian colony into signing treaties. No one in Canada had taught eight year old me about Canadian colonialism yet, let alone Australian colonialism. That optimism is then why I wasn’t too stressed about the reef dying; obviously we’d pull our shit together and save the world from going up in flames. Obviously.

♫ Modernity has failed us ♫

I’ve had Love It If We Made It by The 1975 on repeat for a couple weeks now. A fraught choice of band to hyperfixate on, for sure, but I somehow missed listening to them in the heyday of Tumblr. Love It has such a piercing refrain, full of mournful hope—something which has come in handy over the past weeks, watching the world crack further and further open.

Early in the week I read this gorgeous discussion on the role of social media in times of techno-fascism from the great folks at 404 Media.

For most people, social media gives you this sense that unless you care about everything, you care about nothing. You must try to swallow the world while it’s on fire.

Made me think a lot about the way that we demand perfection from resistance; sabotaging ourselves in the process.

Full disclosure, I’ve never cared for Chekhov, BUT this interview from Exeunt with Rory Mullarkey about his translation/adaptation of Three Sisters left me ready to give old mate a chance.

“Sounding English” isn’t the point. It’s a Russian play, set in Russia, one hundred and twenty-five years ago. The words will be spoken in English, by British actors, in this production, but the translation’s job, or my job, as I see it, is to make those two times and places exist for you at once.

And then a whole article unearthing the link between contemporary clean makeup aesthetics and fascism? God that’s hot.

2016 makeup, like corsets and crinolines, extended our bodies in the same way that writing extended our minds. Our bodies were in the brow pencils and the powder highlighter. Our bodies were in the Sephora stockroom.

In my first year or so of university I had a massive makeup phase and I truly miss it. The cuntiness of wearing lime-green liquid lipstick with matching mascara was just unparalleled: another reason 2016 is the pinnacle of all the years.

Five shows last week! I’ve got a couple reviews yet to write about them, but here’s my quick thoughts.

Day For It at Gasworks was a fun subversion of the ‘queer child and parent go for a hike’ trope. But in this one the mom comes out! Roz Hammond‘s performance as a bashful and closeted lesbian mom was delectable. Good!!!

Wednesday was my first two show day of the year. Both shows I saw were perplexing to say the least. My Queer Spiritual Entropy was a kaleidoscopic mashup of clown and folk music exploring trans ecology which didn’t quite coalesce for me, but did have some beautiful & comic moments. And then there was Hot White Kiss at The Butterfly Club which was exactly what it described itself as: ’a twisted love story of addiction, obsession and misery.’ Call me a positive polly but I really do prefer my theatre served with just an ounce of joy.

On Friday I saw Anatomy of a Suicide which was a really well done production. I love a show that’s in traverse! Stylistically it was pretty dense and hard to follow at times but eventually it bloomed into a really emotive story of generational trauma and healing. And the first play written by Alice Birch I’ve seen! I had a great time.

The last show I saw in the week was bonkers—I need to see more Opera. Labyrinth by the Forest Collective was a site-specific collision of opera, ballet, and piano detailing the story of the Minotaur in the labyrinthine Magdalen Laundries at Abbotsford Convent. I think it might be my favourite show of Midsumma, just so full of raw energy and passion—review to come!!!

Slow week re: the whole making theatre thing.

Although, I did audition for a show which was fun albeit very stressful. I’ve not auditioned for anything in four years, and never for anything outside of uni so it felt good just giving it a go.

When I was younger I had bigger dreams of being an actor than I do now. I think I realised how non-neutral my body is (fat, queer, weird hybrid Canadian accent), and how this body of mine doesn’t really exist in Australia’s theatre canon. So that’s why you make the theatre you wish to see in the world. Or just the theatre you wish to be on stage in. Which is fun, but it’s something different to picking up a script and diving into someone else’s world.

So, my audition. I don’t think I slayed (legs literally were quivering from the nerves) but I reckon next time I audition (soon please), I’ll definitely slay. I’ll find out if I’ve gotten a callback on Wednesday. Fingers crossed.

I’m also currently reading There Must Be Happy Endings by Megan Sandberg-Zakian and it’s really tickling my theatre brain. I’ll have more thoughts once I finish.

So that’s been the week. A highlight of which was the protest against Queensland’s hormone therapy ban which I attended on the weekend. After the absolute shit the world’s been serving queer folk in the past week, it was so nourishing to march with my friends and my community. Holding hands with your best friends and walking down Swanston Street never felt so important.