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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.

Dear fellow supporters of free expression,

I have had a review, a less than complementary one at that, sitting in the draft file for a while now, not quite sure when to post it. Circumstances seem to have emerged such that it seems timely to make a comment about a certain establishment in Adelaide owned by the Booze Brothers chain, known as The Boho Bar.

Located on Unley Road, a hop skip and stagger away from Adelaide city, The Boho Bar describes itself thus on its website

“Indulge your sense in true bohemian spirit. Boho incorporates the nostalgic elements of the circus, the old burlesque sideshows and classic, bohemian cabaret theatres - and mixes them with a sleek, modern service and a kaleidoscope of sounds, light and movement. Its menu is bursting with colour & flavour with a fantastic selection of tapas style dishes and platters. Lavish, cheeky, sinister and enticing…”

I attribute the Adelaide Fringe for the rise in local Boho Chic, which in itself is not a bad thing, but when a venue seeks to make this its raison d’etre, well – I expect a certain standard to be achieved.

I’ll say it up front, The Boho Bar is to the French Parisian Café and Burlesque Hall what PJ O’Briens is to Irish Pubs. It’s a plastic paddy pub in a beret. Instead of fiddles, road signs pointing to Dublin and hurling sticks, its repro-french furniture, bad stage sets and cabinets with early 20th century entertainment flotsam and jetsam. Strip back the superficial fleur-de-lys patina and you would have a standard steel framed, television lined sports bar.

Yes, they serve absinthe, or rather ‘absinth’ – of the most atrocious and overpriced kind.  More to the point they seem happy to charge an extra $5 on each cocktail for using “King of Spirits Absinth” which isn’t fit to disinfect my toilet basin, and nary a true absintheur would disagree (i.e. so bad we find it hard to justify purchasing a bottle to review). And they burn their absinthe for heaven’s sake, showing their schtick for cheap theatrics extends to the bar.

Now, the downward spiral has continued, with this establishment being reported in the Adelaide Advertiser as now implementing a “No Drag” policy.  Sorry, come again?  A bar that supposedly embraces the “true bohemian spirit”  is bothered by cross dressers?

The paper reports that Male-to-female transgender retail worker Susan was refused entry to The Boho Bar while out with three non-cross-dressing friends.  When she contacted Booze Brothers co-director Leon Saturno two days later seeking an explanation she was told there was a new policy that “no cross-dressers would be allowed anymore”.

Well, I think the more discerning Bohemian in Adelaide can probably find much more accommodating neo-Bohemian establishments in Adelaide that serve much better absinthe anyway - but it shits me that an establishment riding on the coattails of an attitude and aesthetic, that by its very nature embraces and promotes individuality and difference, may allegedly be implementing a policy of discrimination.

Might I suggest that all within the Burlesque arts and Bohemian culture think about reposting the Adelaide Advertiser article on their blogs and websites. Perhaps this will let Mr Saturno know exactly what the community thinks about his policy.

Methinks maybe it is time to relegate Boho alongside the likes of other theme restaurants like the Medieval Dirty Dicks ?

What is burlesque? What is neo-burlesque? Where do allied performing arts interface and intersect with either, or both?.

Circus. Cabaret. Vaudeville. Show Girl/Boy. Dance. Physical Theatre.

Why am I asking?

A Deli Burlesque has thrown up some challenges to me – about what I expected to see, versus what I saw.  Performers Emmaline Macartney and Gemma Falk presented a series of vignettes that straddled a number of genres, some sitting within traditional territory, others less so. They themselves describe it as a show of cross-pollination. And it is only natural, both are devotees and proficient in no small number of disciplines. As the late Robert A Heinlein wrote “Specialisation is for insects”.

Just to cover a selection of the performances

“Babes on Bikes” was a Newton-Johnesque routine on exercise bikes that exuded 80’s jazzercise glam, but at the same time was a little open ended as to the intended narrative.

“Bride” was a solo piece by Gemma Falk that mixed mime and dance in a story arc of the descent into deadening domesticity often hidden beneath the happy billows of the wedding gown.

“The Underwater Hula-Rena” was a standout hoop routine by Emmaline Macartney that made this prop an aquatic metaphor to great effect.

There was more than a cursory nod to the traditional arts, with an elegant and sensual “Lady Bird Fan Dance” by Ms Falk, that was a dancing wildlife documentary complete with David Attenborough commentary.

Emmaline’s most striking physical theatre piece, albeit minimalist, also invoked something of the sensuality of burlesque. Titled “MADE (Pandora is…)” , like a forest dryad she emerged from the foliage and sprouted into a natural bloom, counterbalanced by the eventual decay and decomposition, a return to the metaphorical humus. It was quite a powerful performance, and again seemed to achieve their lofty aims of developing a neo-burlesque style that draws from very different performance traditions.

Because what they are doing is so new, I think there may be some expecting more traditional fare who might react negatively to what was performed. But I think you need to let it incubate a bit, question your own preconceptions and biases, and question whether burlesque is really a museum exhibit or a tradition under active evolution.

Remaining performances are sold out but keep these two on your memory list - I suspect there will be further Dawinian transformation in Fringe Festivals to come.

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.

Bogan’s are funny. And so are Catholics (thanks Tony Abbott). Regional centres where the world is as big as the town limits are will always be funny as long as it is mixed with a dose of nostalgic & affectionate pathos.

Make it into a musical gala and you have WrongTown.  Think of the Andrew Sisters after a drug binge. Performing in an outer suburban Westfield. Outside a Supré.

But oh, these girls can sing.

Why a musical tribute to the Snowtown Murders in the form of the Beer Barrel Polka (aka Roll Out The Barrel) has not been done before is beyond me?  If tour buses can now stop at the infamous disused bank in Snowtown so tourists can sniff under the door, then I say enough time has passed for us to laugh through song and wimsy at one of the more recent episodes in Adelaide’s Bizarre Murder Capital scrapbook of infamy.

Of course the mid-North Coast’s very own “Summer Bay” with industrial slag & drag, Newcastle, is not forgotten.  And if it wasn’t for the fact that Jetstar has tricked many a passenger flying to Melbourne, by taking them to Avalon Airport instead, well, would anyone know that Geelong existed?

But far from the industrial and residential wastelands often portrayed, these places are hotbeds of intrigue, with a song in the fractured heart of all these places: married mothers discovering lesbianism, Catholic schoolgirls in need of confession, burgeoning drug cultures amid Americanisation of white bread rural youth and suburban murder tales worthy of their own ballads.

WrongTown is your town. Admit it -  you grew up, got trapped, maybe escaped, and possibly returned to places like this. And when you can acknowledge that, WrongTown will stay in your mind for all the right reasons.

The promise of music, magic noir, comedy, escapology and modern vaudeville drew me to this performance held at Live on Light Square.  I came away feeling like a promise had not been quite fulfilled.

I would like to emphasise though the ability of many of the performers cannot be faulted. The first magician, Jamie, while being a bit of a nervous chap was very adept, and certainly his confidence and projection carried increasing weight as his performance progressed.  Consuming a banana full of razorblades and a classic escape from a straight jacket was well executed adorned with some quite witty banter.

Matt the Mentalist came across quite reserved and shy, but this is part of an act where the harmless introvert unexpectedly proves an uncanny ability to dig into the unsuspecting mind, innocently read body mannerisms and reveal that which is hidden – or have an unwitting audience member perform some quite dangerous acts.

Then came Dan the comedian.  Billed as confronting and politically incorrect, frankly he was a bore who told dirty jokes that related modes of transport to sex acts with a complete absence of comedic timing and delivery. This was the evening’s achilles heel if anything.

Concluding the evening was the most debonaire MC/magician Kamal who delivered some nicely delivered comedic moments amongst some quite simple but impressive trickery. If the whole performance can infuse a good lick of his delivery and savoir-fair in future it will solidify the dynamics for their next performance on the 12 March 2010.

I must sympathise with the performers though, in that the venue decided to start the doof doof music of its neighbouring dance club before the performance had even finished – rather bad form I thought.

One of the great things about getting off the Garden of Unearthly Delights trail for the Fringe is discovering some of Adelaide’s less well known performance venues, such as the Holden Street Theatre housed within a delightful sandstone heritage church building.

On this occasion I am here to be delighted by the Vari-A-Tease troupe who have successfully assembled a broad cast of performers highlighting tremendous individuality and artistic flair.

Mr Gorsky was the first act, with some classic performance mime and balance work invoking physical comedy archetypes reminiscent of Chaplin or Keaton – whether fighting against an ill wind that blow’eth his way or demonstrating his dexterities with a derby on his dome, his routines were extremely well staged.

Kitty van Horne is the sort of school teacher you remember fondly about, elegant, stylish but always the sense there was something hidden and noir about her.  Thus emerges her alter ego, The Queen of the Nile, who belts out show tunes to gyrations and gutsy gesticulations guaranteed to bring your father to the next parent teacher night.

Maxi Man blurs the gender divide with a very Victor Victoria woman being a man being a woman routine. Dark, dirty and evocative with rampant use of processed smallgoods. Beware of her bung fritz dear Fringe-dwellers.

The Divine Danica Lee oozes sensuality and sass with her classic fan dance burlesque and highly imaginative rendition of events in the Garden of Eden – if she had been teaching bible class I’m sure I would have paid more attention, although with commensurately more reason for frequent confession.

Speaking of the infernally good, Cherry Valens showed us the Devil inside her with catchy well choreographed bump and grind, her routines extending to south of the border down me-hi-co way in some classic Tex Mex tease.

Poppy T - bright and stygian in equal measures – inviting us to an evil night together in a modern burlesque number or something more turn of the century with fine Belle Epoque sensibilities and titillation.

Whether flinging herself on a horizontal pole as everyone’s favourite living dead doll, adorned in shibari rope and PVC, or revealing the naughty world of bored housewives discovering how much joy a wooden spoon, decent cake mixture and a Britney Spears soundtrack can bring, Zahra Stardust is a truly versatile performer.

Liam Power added some conjuration and illusion to the proceedings with simple but clever card tricks (with oversized audience friendly cards so we could genuinely ooh and aah over his hand quicker than eye machinations), and supplementing his iron intake with a fist full of steel pins down the gullet.

And then there was the crowd favourite, Missy, acrobatic aerialist pole dancer extraordinaire who brought us a Puck in the Green fantasy routine, like some untamed wild Maenad but showing great discipline and skill in her balance and movement.  Her mechanoid Android routine left no one sleeping, let alone dreaming of electric sheep.

With remaining shows tonight (Friday 26 February) and tomorrow night (Saturday 27 February), both at 10.30pm, there is time to get out now and see the show – let them give you a damn good Variateasing while you can!

Cheap puns and expensive liquor, yes siree, that’s what we are about here at Absinthe.com.au

Doubs Premium Absinthe has been on Australian liquor store shelves for a while now and probably overdue for a review.  Presented in a nice giftbox, this 500mL rectangular based bottle is adorned with a screw-cap printed with fleur-de-lys motifs, and so named after the region of Doubs at the base of the Jura Mountains in France, known historically for absinthe production (albeit the product is actually from South Africa). The product is 55% alc/vol, a little lower than some, and claims 7.4mg/L thujone - which is also a little at odds with the “maximum thujone” claim on the front label, which would be 10 mg/L.  But as we all know, the thujone content is not and should not be the determining factor of a quality absinthe, don’t we? (Repeat after me those thinking otherwise…)

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A casual stroll down through Brisbane’s Fortitude Valley when the sun has gone down was until recently not everyone’s idea of a safe and sensible excursion, however a considerable amount of urban renewal has transformed the BrisVegas Kings Cross into a somewhat more sociable place for dining and entertainment.

But when you get to end of the precinct, and persevere by going a little further down Anne Street you will encounter an altogether different and interesting residential/restaurant/retail development called Emporium that has a neo-Parisian vibe.

There amongst the soft neon my destination greets me. Belle Epoque.

Immediately I am taken by the surrounds. Dark stained wooden dining booths, crisp linen, red leather couches and frosted glass dividers. Rococo style wall mountings in a mandatory gaudy gold against dappled wattle orange walls and polished wall mirrors. They have gone for the late 19th century flair and achieved it - and while not the small intimacy of a petite bistro, have created something equally period on a grander scale where one can get full silver service, or something more casual.

I take my place up at the fresco laden bar and peruse the stylish bound menu.

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I had a most unusual realisation the other day.  I realised that I had grown up with British Musical Hall tradition tunes.  Now, being in my late thirties this may seem incongruous with a musical tradition that spanned the late Victorian and early Edwardian eras, a hey-day for absinthe.  But something triggered a long forgotten memory in my mind of spending a good part of the late seventies as a child watching ABC television on Sunday nights I believe, following a long-running BBC show called “The Good Old Days“.

For those post-Gen X, this was a somewhat gloriously hokey romp of a tv show (yea, camp even - Victorian Drag anyone ?) where the entire audience dressed up in period Victorian-Edwardian garb (today we might say old school Steampunk….) and sang along to old show tunes with the performers, often well known comedians and singers of the day, hamming it up on stage reliving the glory days of British vaudeville. Such was its popularity that it ran for 30 years.

That’s what people did before Torrent downloads of Joss Whedon shows and internet porn.

It must be said that with the meteoric Burlesque revival, the revival of Music Hall must surely not be far behind, or have a potential niche in these “new old times”.   And so it is with some delight that I stumbled across the Australian performing duo known as Bygone Error, who are making a mark in the Australian folk scene with their resurrected show tunes and bawdy British humour from these delightfully fruity times past.  Think of a musical ‘Are You Being Served?’ in a snazzy bowler & waistcoat and you’ve hit the vibe.

I think these chaps have potential to go wider than the folk scene - any promoters in the Fringe Festival or neo-burlesque milieu should go give them a listen now.  I can easily see them being an excellent support to the other revived lost vaudevillian arts now back in vogue - and to my mind the musical side has been the one component of these traditions largely overlooked with the exception of specialised cabaret chanteuses such as Meow Meow.  But there is so much more musically from this era, and I am glad for one that this dynamic duo are broadening the re-experience of entertainment history.