Through the good support of the fine folk at the Adelaide Fringe, Absinthe.com.au were fortunate to attend a ‘dinner date’ performance of cabaret & burlesque with the delightful Lorelei & Sarina at the deliciously 100% vegan & vego friendly/performance space venue - Sarah’s Cafe.

Compered by the hostess with the mostest, the infernally witty Gabrielle, the girls put on a highly polished performance that broke out of the standard conventions of ‘burlesque’, and took us on a journey to more unexpected places, to the festive Copacabana, and even the sex & glamour of 1970s drag strip racing.

We are also big fans of Lorelei (bom bom)

Lorelei was able to take time out of their busy schedule to give us her thoughts on the future of cabaret & burlesque, and a glimpse behind the golden curtain into the realities of the profession.

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Absinthe.com.au has received the first suggestion for an unholy alliance of absinthe and bacon vodka… yes, people. Un Cochon Vert is one step closer to hideous, chthonic existence.

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For those who are unaware - absinthe is “kind of a big deal” in America presently. Having recently become legal to import and sell la fee verte in the United States, people are falling over themselves to get their hands on a bottle, it would seem. The above photograph was taken at the St George Spirits distillery in December of last year, showing the queue of over 100+ people waiting to buy a bottle of their newly-released absinthe. Keen as mustard, I tell you.

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Morning drinker?

Fluid-only diet?

Ever had a shot of vodka and thought, “needs bacon”?

Well, you’ll love this.

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Floating on a couple of glasses of absinthe each, we made our way back to the CircuiTree installation being put on as part of the Fringe. As it would turn out the hazy warmth of the green fairy would be conducive to appreciating what was ahead.Entering through the back of the church, the amosphere had dramatically transmuted from the pre-preparation stage we saw earlier in the evening. With the sun almost about to slip below the western horizon, the darkened twighlight allowed the glow of black lights and cacophony of thumping Trance music to emerge into its own.

What struck us immediately was the sense of familiarity about the place. At one stage my brother and I had been sharing a house in Adelaide (that probably deserved demolition) , that was often ‘creatively’ decorated with indian print sheets, incense and odd lighting - it was like we had stepped back 15 odd years into our old abode.

But the effort before us was an installation of a much grander design than anything we had attempted in our own home. The first room we entered was adorned with hanging lamps, strung up sheeting, artworks on the walls and cushions strewn about the middle like a giant chill out room.

Ajoining side rooms bathed in harsh red lights and gentle blue tones were filled with original artworks, wall hangings by artistic collective Izwoz and canvases that displayed words of spirituality and philosphy - the words themselves hanging in midair to be studied like one would study the brush strokes or techniques of an artist. Painting with letters.

Onward into the depths of the installation, the mood would start to become more intense, more biomechanical and primal.

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It has been hideously hot in Adelaide this week, pushing in the high thirties, and I have dragged my way into the city to meet up with my brother to go see the Fringe art installation CircuiTree (which I will cover in more detail in part 2).

We arrived a little early at the installation site which is a old church on Grote Street that is currently up for lease and makes for an excellent art-performance space. We manage to get a peek inside before it begins, and quickly decide that we probably need to come back later when darkness descends to fully appreciate it.

At a loose end we decide to get a drink, and being on Grote Street this gives me the opportunity to finally check out a little cafe-bar a short stroll away call La Boheme. From what I have read, the premises used to be an old tobacconist - the heavily curtained windows in the external facade highlighting the delightful 19th century architecture of the building, already promoting a sense that this is something of a discrete and intimate salon.

We enter into a cool and comfortable space, and find ourselves an empty table before the small stage where a pair of performers are belting out what my brother refers to as his ‘old busking repertoire’ - so he likes the venue already. In fact it is rare to find a place where the musicians are so close, but the volume controlled suitably for the size of the venue (which is quite small - but deliciously so) such that one can enjoy music and discussion concurrently.

As I had entered my eyes had immediately shot to the back wall to identify the absinthe bottles. My brother has not had absinthe before, and so the setting, the ‘green’ hour of the day and the opportunity was perfect for his introduction.

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Lance Winters at the St George distillery (Image: Peter DaSilva for The New York Times)

St George Absinthe is the first absinthe to be both produced and sold in the US since US Tobacco and Alcohol regulatory agency, the TTB, passed legislation allowing for its sale late last year. Along side Ted Breaux’s Lucid and Kubler (read our review here) the label has garnered much attention from within the US as currently these three houses dominate the market. However, the international absinthe community has also been watching St George, partly out of sheer curiousity (it being the first ‘premium’ absinthe to emerge from the US), partly due to it’s ‘unorthodox’ formulation, which includes wormwood, star anise, mint, lemon balm, hyssop and fennel… as well as meadowsweet, basil, tarragon and stinging nettles on a 60% brandy alcohol base. Note: this absinthe is not currently available from Australia.

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Agnes Goodsir, ‘Girl with a Cigarette’, 1925

Artists have long flocked to Paris in order to ‘find’ their art and refine their techniques, and Australian artists are no exception. One of the most noteworthy Australian artists to make the pilgrimage was Agnes Goodsir, a native of Bendigo who would go on to become a well-known portrait painter in France at the turn of the 20th century. Goodsir was arguably one of Australia’s most pre-eminent bohemians, living with her lover and artist’s model ‘Cherry’ (fellow Australian Rachel Dunn), frequenting the cafes and bistrots of Paris and mixing in circles which included Picasso, Joyce and Hemmingway. A new exhibition at the Bendigo Art Gallery in Victoria uncovers the life and art of Goodsir, along with the other Australian artists who would go before and after her, in search of their art in the streets of Paris.

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American glass artist Andy Paiko makes beautiful things. Absolutely gorgeous things which marry the modern and the historical. Each piece evokes the atmosphere of the Victorian Cabinet of Curiosities… beautiful things which have an air of functionality, but are ultimately ephemeral, often like ghosts of themselves… such as the glass spinning wheel , seismograph or his bell jar series. What I want, however, is highly functional, and sculpturally magnificant - one of his absinthe fountains. Complete with skull-and-crossbones motif on the bowl, gold spigots and finely worked glass finial and foot, they are sinister and arrestingly attractive at the same time… like all the best things in life.

Look here for more of Andy’s work.

Review of Meow Meow, Beyond Glamour: The Absinthe Tour, Bosco Theatre, Garden of Unearthly Delights - Adelaide Fringe Festival

There is something truly ethereal about Meow Meow.

I have seen her lovingly described in another review as a walking Art Deco theatre facing condemnation. And if she is as old as she jokes, then she is also a prowling feline who moves amongst and uses the shadows for her own purposes - who with the right song, the right mood can transmogrify from a faded cabaret diva of sepia tinged memories to a much younger starlet, full of a chimeric eye-batting innocence and steely determination to make her mark upon you like a branding iron.

From the minute she shambolically stumbled into the aging 100 year old Bosco circus theatre, dragging a suitcase in tow, fag in hand screaming abuse at the lighting technician she ensnared our hearts and minds and immediately stuffed them amongst the medication, the corsets, lingerie and many accoutrements in her luggage.

We, the individuals in the audience, for a brief moment or a whole show stopping number, could easily have been a lost friend, maybe her potential pillow for the night, her living music stand, her barman, her chaise lounge, her source of irritation, or manifestation of joy.

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