Cirrus@Austlit

'Welcome to Narungga Country. You’ve been warned. 

'Guuranda is a monumental new theatre work telling the Narungga Creation stories of South Australia’s Yorke Peninsula from Narungga/Kaurna theatre-maker Jacob Boehme.  

'Commissioned by Adelaide Festival, Guuranda has been created by a collective of First Nations artists, Narungga Elders and non-Indigenous artists. It is written and directed by Jacob Boehme with artwork by Narungga visual artist Kylie O’Loughlin and sung by Narungga songwoman Sonya Rankine and songman Warren Milera, supported by the Narungga Family Choir. 

'Taking its title from the Narungga language name for the Yorke Peninsula, Guuranda tells of a people and place that teach us about being human, drawing on history to speak into the present. These ancient stories are not myths, nor are they old, quaint tales. These stories are vital, violent, delightful and dangerous. They are stories to charm, shock and instruct audiences of all ages.  

'Effortlessly weaving together theatre, song, puppetry, dance and visual art, Guuranda shares stories that offer insight and balance, with chaos and death ever-present. You must look, listen and tread carefully.'

Source: Adelaide Festival.

'This article is part of an ongoing conversation between Jacob Boehme, Alyson Campbell and Jonathan Graffam about Boehme's play 'Blood on the Dance Floor' (Melbourne and Sydney, 2016; Australia and Canada tour, 2019), and we see it now as a kind of queer collaborative musing that we are doing together to think through how the production works. While we have published some of our thinking on the play before, we realised that none of us was finished trying to articulate how it was created (Boehme), and the impact it had on us as spectators (Campbell and Graffam) and, indeed, that there was still so much to unravel in terms of its place in the context of queer performance in Australasia. In this article, we focus on key decisions made during the dramaturgical process of composing two sequences from the production, 'Sandridge Beach' and 'Anthony'. In examining the production's 'dramaturgy', we refer both to the structure and content of the piece and the processes of decision-making that are key to composing the work. While the term 'dramaturgy' is used to describe the selection of material in crafting and organising new work, on another level it seeks to make explicit the relationship between the artistic composition and the socio-political and cultural context in which the work is staged. There are multiple ways to approach any framing of 'Blood on the Dance Floor (BOTDF)' - Indigenous identity, queerness and HIV - and, though we start from the perspective of queerness for this special issue, they are as inextricably interwoven and inseparable as the double helix of DNA. In our conversations for this article, what emerged most strongly from Jacob were ideas of love, the complexity - or, perhaps more precisely, absence - of Indigenous sexual lives from stage and other representational forms, and queer kinship.' (Publication abstract)

'“It feels like I’m on the run from a disastrous disease,” says Noongar writer and poet Claire G. Coleman. “We went to Barunga Festival in the Northern Territory, then over to Laura dance festival in Queensland, then the shit started hitting the fan. We got to Alice Springs, broke down and now Darwin’s gone into lockdown. We’ve constantly been escaping lockdowns.”' (Introduction)

'A former thief and heroin addict, theatre legend Uncle Jack Charles has been part of some of the most important movements in Australian theatre history. By Jacob Boehme.'

'A contemporary urban drama which speaks to epic, and sometimes humorous conversations about modern Aboriginal identity, sexuality and family loyalties, spanning three generations, across two families.'

Source: La Mama Theatre.

'Blood on the Dance Floor explores the legacies and memories embedded in our bloodlines and each person’s need for community and connection. Examining the way in which blood defines a person, Boehme questions how our most precious life source can both unite and divide us.'

'With a contemporary voice Jacob Boehme pays homage to the ceremonies of his ancestors whilst dissecting the politics of gay, Blak and poz identities in a visceral narrative that voyages time, space and character. Blood on the Dance Floor is an unapologetic physical monologue.' (Source: Ilbijerri Theatre Company website)