I was introduced to Melbourne-based choreographer Nat Cursio via her work, “Blizzard,” created and performed at the lovingly restored utility-turned-arts-venue,...
If Cold Was Real. If Dance Was Everything. If Promise Was Lure. If Bait Was Laid. If I Was Keen....
A performance that took place in a 7 x 4 metre box, covered in two-way mirrored Plexiglas film, offered the...
In the yawning space of the machine hall, we assembled. A small group of mourners cloaked in suitable attire, our number countable upon my fingers, no need for the toes.
The warmth of the spring day did not hold in the Substation. Inside the capacious, high-ceilinged, former industrial space, it...
