After much of the Classical style Burlesque I have seen over the Fringe it is good to counterbalance things with some modern form neo-Burlesque - and yea verily, it is even better when it works. There have been some real hits and misses in years past. Tonight was the former, not the latter, I am happy to say.

Consider if you will the tradition of Chamber Opera, small ensembles of performers and musicians performing stories designed for a small venue.  The concept of Chamber Opera actually fits very well with neo-Burlesque, and particularly tonights performance, Burlesque Assassin.  We have a house band consisting of stripped back drums, indie-jazz double bass and jangling shoe-gazing guitar - this being Sydney band The Knife Waltz, the lead singer for which, Nikki Nouveau prowls onto stage like a diamonte spotted Snow Leopard, bullwhip in hand.  The reverb laden sounds layered with Nikki’s voice touches on sentiments of PJ Harvey and Blonde Redhead, with certain noir Lynchian qualities.

I’ve seen a few Burlesque shows this Fringe, and some I have openly pondered about how well the mood has been set by the Master of Ceremonies, what I believe to be a critical role. They are no less than a Ringmaster, an Orchestral Conductor even.  Look and learn would be MC’s.  The Dolls House Master of Ceremonies (or is that Master of Seduction?),  is the wonderfully androgynous Johnny Castrati, a dandy indeed and resplendent in a frock coat with dual peacock motifs (cocksure compensation perhaps?).

But he promises us much. “Less David Jones and more Carnivale!!” he proclaims to my welcome relief, my growing anticipation.

Thus the tone and tenure of the evening is set, and the foundations laid for the entrance of Flavella L’Amour, corseted in period garb and parasoled like Marie Antoinette, who teases wonderfully by appropriately pacing her routine, losing not an inch of kapow in the process, across a soundtrack of 1920’s jazz, modern rock and then swing.  She will push the ceiling higher later in the evening with a sassy cabaret jazz routine climaxing in her adornment in her trademark pet python, its random wandering across her curves producing a natural snakeskin garment that moved and reacted to her gyrations.

Karrey Dolly gave us an ‘Edwina Scissorhands routine that was cleverly constructed, although her movements in this routine and her follow up Middle Eastern Gogo Explosion occasionally had timing issues, which need to be forgiven as she was last minute a stand in, and she clearly was committed to delivering a solid performance.

Zoe L’Amour Princess of Pain & Daredevil Diva fulfilled provided a nice contrasting hard edge darkness to the otherwise bright display through acts of masochism, illusion and daring – mousetraps on the tongue, consuming razor blade laden apples, climbing a ladder of swords bear footed and tongue kissing an electric metal fan.  The girl is hard. Well hard.  If this wasn’t enough she proved that battery operated love toys are no match for a mains electricity powered angle grinder thrust into an armour clad groin.

Lastly, to the crooning tunes of Just A Gigolo, our psychopomp extraordinaire Johnny Castrati emerged from his chrysalis to reveal Australian Burlesque royalty, Rita Fontaine who gave us a full contact Gogo shimmy and shake that threatened to undermine the building foundations.

A Dolls House was Burlesque in a Mexican wrestling mask that slammed us into the canvas repeatedly, leaving us much too delirious and weak to tag out.

A Dolls House has their last performance on tonight, 12 March, at 11pm - SOLD OUT

The premise seemed good.  Naked cabaret comedy performance with piano accordian.

I never thought I’d say that nudity can never compensate a wanting performance, but there you go.

It started well, as a bold bump & tease entrance, a slow disrobing behind a strategically placed accordian (a nice change to balloons).  But then Liz Skitch, our femme fatale protagonist for the evening, delivered her particular mix of songs, stories and comedic one liners, clothed in bad musical paisley behind a maddening novelty oompah bass line that had me convinced that at some stage she was going to deliver a “I say, I say, I say, my dog has no nose…” routine.

If you are old enough you may remember comedian Jean Kittsons ditzy character Candida Royal on the Big Gig – remove the leotard, give her German instrumentation and you get the picture.

Look, much of the audience seemed to be laughing and were enjoying it tremendously, so what do I know?

I just didn’t find the stories particularly clever, the songs were loosely constructed and the expected punchy one liners had the aim of drunken haymaker in the front bar of the Ettamogah Pub.

Skitchtease has one more performance this Thursday 11 March 2011.

I would like to use this review of Adelaide-based Syrian Oud player Adnaan Baraky as an opportunity to make a comment on the multiculturalism debate, and this so called notion of “assimilation”.

A number of years ago I started to learn the Oud with a wonderful teacher in the Western Sydney Turkish community, which culminated in me joining their community orchestra as the token White Anglo-Saxon. I didn’t speak a word of Turkish, I was not a Muslim, I had never been to Middle Eastern country, I knew nothing of the culture – and yet I was welcomed with open arms because of my willingness to cross the cultural bridge halfway on account of my love of the instrument. And I came to learn and love that there is such a thing as a unique Australian Turkish culture, a thing in itself. This was for me represented best in a song composed in Turkish Classical style by my Oud teacher which sang the history of the Australian “Johnnies” and Turkish “Mehmets” fighting on the shores of Gallipoli. “Assimilation” as the critics of multiculturalism would have it, would prevent art such as this from being born in Australia.

During the performance by Adnaan, a highly skilled and creative artist with a learned musical pedigree, he spoke of composing his piece Melodies from the Other Side as the US Forces invaded Afghanistan, written for the dead on both sides of the conflict. He was unable to finish the song. Then when the US invaded Iraq, again he tried to complete the piece but was not able. Finally, after moving to Australia, he was so touched the tragedy of the victims of the Victorian bushfires he was able to finish the song, as if the spirits of the dead were saying to the living “Don’t worry about us, instead, worry about yourselves, for we are in peace”.

This is what is created in the crucible of multiculturalism.

Much of his new music being showcased tonight from his newly released album is born of his migration to Australia, of the search to find a means of expressing his Syrian heritage in the Australian setting. The Blues was not born here, but we are often happy to talk about an Australian Blues scene, and cultural context. Why are we then so hesitant about recognizing Australian-Middle Eastern culture and music, or Australian-African, or Australian-Asian for that matter?

There are songs of geographical dislocation, Ya Balady, of Sufic spirital ecstacy through Union with the Divine, Dinaan and well as traditional dances, Lawha. Through all these works and thematic melodies he conjures amazing taksim (improvisation) that carries one into deep meditative admiration.

Adnaan Baraky will be doing one more performance for the Adelaide Fringe on Sunday 13 March. Attendance would be all the more culturally enriching for you I think, an opportunity to pick up his CD while you are there.

Now, I like Dave Callan, MC for the Burlesque Beauties this evening – he is a funny bastard. But please Dave, please – no more clichéd Adelaide jokes involving Fruchocs, Malls Balls, The 5 Way Roundabout of Death or Iced Coffee. In exchange we will refrain from all Leprechaun, IRA and Michael Flatley jokes. I hope we have an understanding here?

The evening’s conviviality commenced with Lyra La Belle and Radha Leigh doing a ‘Bump and Grind’ Balloon adornment. Now, I’m probably too much of a hedonist because balloons pinned on full frilly undergarments aren’t quite titillating enough – the slow popping and removal to reveal what one can essentially see anyway left me scratching my head. This was followed by Lolly Dolly doing a grown up Shirley Temple ‘Good Ship Lollipop’ routine with giant novelty candy– which, admittedly, I thought a little “Sailor Moon Fetish” like, albeit quite innocent in intent I’m sure.

Thus the start, I will admit, had me worried that things might stay relatively safe. But then things got shifted into high gear and the girls made the rubber hit the road.

It is here I really need to mention Moon Daze singing a slow Billie Holliday ‘You’re My Thrill’. She smouldered, she was intoxicating, she prowled the stage and she made me sit up and take notice.

Radha, Lyra and Lolly brought in a good dose of Andrew Sisters tropical fun with ‘Rum and Coca Cola ®’  - it was sassy, it was sexy and made good continuity of burlesque sensibilities in the 1940’s blitzkrieg era setting, and hooray – pasties! I did mention my hedonist tendencies didn’t I? - oh, good.

‘Take It All’ - a musical number by the gorgeous Dahlia D’Frisco was an inviting, honest and upfront performance. This was followed by a mandatory gymnastic ‘Fever‘ routine, on chairs, draped by Lyra La Belle and Radha Leigh. Nice flow and form, maybe not scorching hot but a fever worthy of a pharmacy strength analgesic nonetheless.

There was no lack of good humour in the evening either – Lyra showing that Cos Play is now legitimate game in burlesque when dancing to ‘The Lion Sleeps Tonight’, and Dave Callan proving he is the new driving force in Boylesque by nailing almost perfectly an entire routine to Beyonce’s ‘All The Single Ladies’ with support from the Beauties cast.

Maybe my main critique of an otherwise enjoyable evening is that some routines felt a little rushed. A bit more holding back, a bit more tease might up the intensity further  – but nor was it absent, accolades again to Moon Daze for hitting the mark bang on.

Burlesque Beauties continue their season until 7 March 2011 - and already sold out!

The giant story book prop on stage adorned with “Peaches & Gin – A Burlesque Upon a Time” was the first indication that we were in store for quite a fractured Fairy Tale. While the drive time radio-style banter and MC’ing from Rohan Watts and Cara Louise didn’t quite cement this premise to my comfort, they did try to build the atmosphere with getting the audience comfortable with whooping and hollering as was appropriate.

Our first tease of what was to come was delivered through a clever silhouette routine through the pages of the oversized story book by Luna Eclipse & Sapphire Snow, culminating with them coming to life in the flesh much to our delight. This was followed by a musical number on the theme of “Until Death We Do Part”, by the Evil Queen of Hearts Cara Louise, which was delivered with humour & homicidal wit. No arguments, the gal can sing cabaret.

The un-coventional bedtime story continued with Sapphire as the jilted Princess, who gave us a most illuminating “black light” Cinderella routine. This was followed by a “Jeannie” I will probably keep dreaming about, courtesy of Ms Luna, who gave us a cheeky and entertaining Arabian Nights number, showing her personality is way to big to be kept bottled in a magic lamp.

The question as to whether one is a jiggler or a dangler came to mind as I contemplated Sapphire’s novel pastie-placement of tea bags in her clever “Mad Hatters Tea Party”. We were then graced by a visit from Luna’s Ice Queen on wings of silver, that culminated in a powerful grind to 50’s rock, a sensually staggered but stomping strip tease.

All together, we were given a well constructed story line and framework to support the talent and creativity inherent in these two burlesque babes. But to comment, another online critic has made an unkind quip that the props & performance of Burlesque Upon A Time is more reminiscent of a well put together talent show, but not a professional burlesque gig – which I think shows he completely misses the point of Burlesque as a performance movement.

Like Punk, the Burlesque revival has a strong do-it-yourself ethic – and when you have this in mind you can see the difference between corporate managed “faux-Burlesque” which is sterile jazz dance in corsets, versus performance from people who have built and supported their act from the ground up. Personally I prefer a little more Buzzcocks in my Burlesque, and a little less Toto.

When you want an evening of dark cabaret, a heady atmosphere like that of somewhere from the Deep South can’t hurt – and Adelaide’s weather has certainly come to the party on the eventide, a readily thickening humidity rolling over the Fringe site, amplified within the performance tent, pushed even further by the performances in Noir Revue.

Our Mistress of Ceremonies, the Blue Angel, an ethereal creature somewhere between Little Nell and Marlene Deitrich has promised us dark tragic beauties & troublesome fellows.  This they delivered and more.

Throughout the evening we had wonderful stylistic counterpunctuality between songstress Baby Blue Bergman & Dizzy, who delivered beautifully aching renditions of Blue Velvet and Bang Bang, set in a balanced dichotomy against the deep soul driven lamentations of Chantal delivering Blues in the Night and Folsom Prison Blues amongst her repertoire.

The theme of knife edge balance curiously continues amongst the routines of Paloma Negra & Missy – who together performed an erotically charged Chair Tango, reinforcing an old saying that the Tango is horizontal desire expressed vertically. When separated, each demonstrated no shortage of matched aerial skill – Paloma on the Delta Trapeze and Missy on a Trapeze Ring, the attention of the audience held not through circus trickery, but in the discipline each demonstrated in slow deliberate contortions.  The tightening of a muscle, a tendon stretched, maybe a bead of sweat delivering the fascination to the observer, each of us being compelled and drawn into the very restraint itself.

And old favourite, Mr Gorski delivers a new take on his amazing hat & cigar juggling skills.  Whereas the last time I saw him the routine certainly had a nod to the good Mr Chaplin’s physical comedy, Mr Gorski’s present incarnation presents a much darker, uncontrolled protagonist. Drunk, leering and pleasantly unwholesome, this Mr Gorski comes from a tenebrous corner of the psyche, a development I appreciate considerably.

Our required dose of tease was delivered in medicinal spoonfuls by Scarlett Jezebel and Sarina del Fuego - both together and in separate routines, some parts deliberately understated, some exorcising any need for subtlety.  Scarlett was resplendent in glory in her amazing Peacock Feather Fan bustle, azure magnificence as she swayed and bumped her way before us, peeling away the layers to our delight.  And the divine Ms del Fuego delivered the naughty and naughtier, forgetting the nice somewhere along the way. Her Perdita Smoking routine was sensual and a source of ignition (not only from the cigarette), while her fan routine held something of the Norman Lindsay aesthetic, like some dryad celebrating release from one of his etchings.

I would hasten to add that like shadows, the full range of noir sensibilities is cast only in the presence of a suitable light source – and tonight’s performance carried enough light and shade from each performer to emotionally move one between states of engagement, from awe to sympathy, through titillation and doses of whimsy.

The remaining performances are Saturday 19th and Sunday 20th February, I suggest you start your 2011 Adelaide Fringe off with a bang, bump and grind at the Noir Revue.

Burlesque Beauties, by Kitty Kemble’s Mirror Mirror Company, at La Boheme has made something of point of difference in Americana inspiration, whereas many a burlesque and cabaret troupe give a good nod to the stylistic themes of Vegas, this performance took more cues from New York.

Chair routines, and somewhat tame but aerobic Feather fan performances to the likes of All That Jazz, show where a good dose of the aesthetic was pitched.  There were some very good traditional French style tease routines and acrobatics amongst the dancing, the latter quite commendable given the restricted stage area.

The Broadway nod continued with a rendition of New York New York by a shirtless, buff and highly capable male cabaret singer, Jesse James, with him really hitting his strides and owning the performance space by the second number, a soulfully delivered Cry Me A River.

Singer, Madison K, is a stunning performer who really impressed me with a particularly striking cabaret number involving murder and comedy – singing while manipulating a corpse on stage is no mean feat.

The laughs were maintained through some other well delivered cabaret favourites by other performers,  Whatever happened to class? and a witty fashion advice number with an unsuspecting audience member ending up as a Corey Worthington clone.

Again we have hit that interesting question of continuums between other forms of dancing, Show Girl routines and Burlesque.  Maybe one of the things I like about burlesque is that it is often a celebration of ‘beautiful imperfection’. The character portrayal, physicality and the delivery of routines have a certain realistic quality that are within the grasp of any woman (or man).

As a result, when I am presented with burlesque performed by athletically buff and stunning performers, delivered with a certain military precision, sculptured perfection and style of choreography I would normally associate with other exotic dance forms, it does give me moment to pause.

Maybe I feel we weren’t quite teased enough…that the bridge between performer and audience had not quite been traversed.

Did you know the domestic adoption and use of the vibrator preceded the home vacuum cleaner by nine years?

Neither did I?

And that once upon a time medically administered manual masturbation by your local doctor was the standard treatment for women suffering genital congestion and hysteria and that it was not regarded as anything to do with sex?

But could you claim it on Medicare?

All these tit bits, and historical pink bits, are contained in cabaret song and delicious silliness in this production by Isabel Hertaeg on “the little death”, La Petit Mort – The Orgasm.

Accompanied by her talented pianist, Geoff “Magic Fingers” Urquhart, this sexy siren, a metaphorical and literal Lady in Red, gets us into the mood with a good dose of Luciferian lavisciousness as she serenades the Devil’s horn.

Alternating between story and song she takes us from period Germanic art song dripping frank Freudian connotations to lesbian laments for labia left behind.  If I could critique one thing, it would be that the strength and delivery of her dialogue maybe didn’t carry the gravitas or conviction of her singing, less vamp, more vixen.

La Petit Mort has two more shows, 11 & 12 March at the Promethean Theatre.  Grab a ticket, but not yourself, and see why this show received rave reviews at the Edinburgh and Melbourne Fringe Festivals.

On the related topic of vibrators, and the absinthian cultural mores of neo-Victorian Steam Punk, here is a website by a creative genius who has managed to bring the two together.

The Promethean Theatre, an Edwardian era Church, one time Liquor Trade Union Hall, now a gothic grey and plush velvet performance venue, is an excellent and intimate location for a witty night of bad German accents and cabaret.

Supported by the virtuosic Berlin Cabaret Micro Orchestra (read three piece jazz ensemble), Gerhardt, Lux and Rudi play up to every hokey hun caricature straddling the Weimar era and period of Nazi ascension.

Gerhardt was the charming, crooning Master of Ceremonies for the evening, with plenty of bad-but-good puns and blue banter. Lux is the resident alcoholic lush, strutting the stage in fishnets, corsetry and wine bottle belting out her particular penchant for American jazz numbers. Overplayed to the max, but then I think this is a necessity (even if her German accent seemed to be sliding at times into Slavic territories like all so many invasions of the era).  Supporting act, the Tin Can Alley, are an extremely talented and ageing decadent duo who specialise in catchy cabaret – from well known standard such as “Non, je ne regrette rien”, or more obscure Indian show tunes about oversized tomatoes (in Hindi!)

The gangly, shy and awkward Rudi, however, steals the show.  One minute delivering operatic overtures with Wagnerian largesse, next (un)dressed as ol’ Adolf himself in a fetching negligee.  His voice is either angelic or infernal as the tune and context demands. Glorious stuff.

I’m not sure what it is about this particular company of performers, but the average age of the audience was closer to 60, which I found curious – but maybe the “classic” form of Weimer cabaret holds an appeal for the older set that differentiates them from the new generation of neo-cabaret. At the very least it demonstrates that the cabaret and vaudeville arts still hold a broad appeal across many generations, and that the Fringe is not just for the young and tragically Boho.

The Berlin Cabaret have two more performances this Fringe - alas all sold out. But keep an eye out for them at other events such as the Adelaide Cabart Festival.