It is often overlooked that the Channel Islands were occupied by Nazi forces during WWII. Gabriel is set in Guernsey, populated by locals, the German occupiers, and imported slave labourers. The sense of oppression is felt instantly in this Stagecraft Theatre production, with clever soundscapes (Alan Burden) of marching forces and far-off drumming. This is continued with Charlie Potter’s remarkable, yet claustrophobic set design. The stage is busy despite only featuring the survival essentials: a small kitchenette, stove-fire, an attic bedroom, and some black-market brandy, illustrating the declining misfortunes of our characters.

Jeanne Becquet (Hannah Thipthorpe) has been moved from her home into a small farmhouse to make way for a German billet. With her are her young daughter Estelle (Pypah McGregor), her daughter-in-law Lily (Gracie Voice), and their housekeeper Mrs Lake (Trudy Dalziel).

Moira Buffini’s play is a masterclass in strong female characters, all of whom do what they can to survive. Estelle attempts to summon an angel to help save her family, all the while hilariously haunting the Germans. However, her mother Jeanne’s chosen survival strategy is a degree of cooperation with the occupiers, particularly with Major Von Pfunz (Phil Peleton). Thipthorpe and Peleton’s chemistry is palpable, with both possessing the acting chops to nail the drama and uneasy mirth that the script demands.

A prickly relationship is made perilous when Jeanne lets slip that Lily is secretly Jewish. Tensions intensify when Lily rescues a stranger (Jamie Morgan) who has washed up onshore with no clothes or memory of who he is. She brings this man home, despite the threat it imposes on the household. Here, Voice wonderfully portrays an isolated young woman, desperately trying to grasp who she is.

At its heart, this story is about choosing to cling to your identity, to who you are, even when the very fabric of identity is ripped away in the reality of life under occupation. Gabriel is a tense tale of wartime intrigue and romance that makes for riveting watching and is a strong entry in the Stagecraft canon.

With great excitement, mister almost-five and I make our way to Circa Theatre to see Little Dog Barking’s long-anticipated new production. As we collect our tickets, we are told that we can sit anywhere we want to. My son chooses to sit right at the front and shortly after, the show starts with lovely music and a squawk?

Well, yes, because The Adventures of Tahi and Kōwhai is about two hoiho (yellow-eyed penguins) and their natural journey of finding their soulmates, the dangers they face, and the unlikely friends they make along the way.

The stage is brought to life with amazing lighting (Jason Longstaff) that sets the scene for Tahi and Kōwhai’s time on land and under the sea. The set (Tolis Papazoglou) is simple and very effective. The props are unique and work well with the various scene changes. Sharon Johnstone did an outstanding job in designing the props and puppets, which each have various characteristics that enhance their personalities. The puppets are so expressive, it feels like they are real.

The room is filled with people of all ages, young and old. Everyone is enjoying the loveable puppets and great music, composed by sound designer Liam Reid and performed by Kenny King and Jeremy Hunt (also the puppeteers for all the characters). The laughs, squeals of excitement, and dancing can be seen and heard in every row.

As much as I would love to get more into what the show is about, it’s worth checking out this inspiring, entertaining, and heartwarming adventure for yourself to experience the world of our local wildlife and some of the struggles that they face.

As always, I had to know what part stood out for my son. He said, “All of it, but I really loved the songs!” My favourite part was the integration of te reo Māori and New Zealand Sign Language, but I loved all of it too.

Members of the NZSO National Youth Orchestra (NYO) meet each other once a year for a full week of rehearsals before they perform together. It sounds a little like cramming before a test, but the skills and musicianship demonstrated by these remarkable young people were the product of much more than a term’s worth of work.

The NYO had what must have been the absolute pleasure of working with a conductor whose sheer delight in the experience was evident to all of us in his energy and empathy. Giancarlo Guerrero’s directing style seems perfect for young musicians in particular. It is dynamic, energetic, dramatic, and empathetic all at once.

This was a demanding programme. In the convergence of oceans by Nathaniel Otley (2023 NYO composer-in-residence), the orchestra was immediately and literally in deep water. At times more an acoustic experience than conventional musical composition, the use of found percussion instruments added particular interest. This piece would have presented new challenges for some of the young musicians, but they were very comfortable with their debut.

Aaron Copland was the American composer in the show. We heard his Billy the Kid: Suite and it was every bit as evocative as the title suggests. The orchestra did an excellent job bringing to life Guerrero’s version of a young man’s action-filled life.

The finale, Elgar’s Variations on an Original Theme (Enigma) is a crowd pleaser, well known and difficult to make special. However, Guerrero’s interpretation and direction to the NYO produced an uplifting and exciting performance. It really felt like something new, which is no mean feat when you consider it was written by an Englishman over 100 years ago.

The 80 or so musicians who journeyed with us from the deep ocean to the open prairie and then to the English countryside proved their versatility and talent. The future of orchestral music is safe in their hands.

I actually have a personal connection to Harrison Ford but let’s start by talking about the newest instalment of the Indiana Jones franchise, Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny, shall we?

I grew up watching these movies. And as a true little tomboy I could think of nothing better than going on adventures around the world, discovering hidden treasure, and saving the world from the forces of evil. Let’s be honest, there has never been a cooler nerd than Indy. My disappointment was palpable when I learned most archaeologists spend their days digging in the dirt with a spoon. But Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny did not disappoint me. It’s fun, it’s exciting, and it’s just what every Indiana Jones fan would hope for.

I’m not saying it’s as good as Raiders of the Lost Ark or Last Crusade. I mean, there is no guest appearance from Sean Connery – though Antonio Banderas was a welcome surprise – but it is exactly what you would expect. Nazis, exhilarating yet comical car chases, booby traps, our grumpy yet lovable protagonist, and just the right amount of history to make it interesting but not boring. Director James Mangold alongside designer Adam Stockhausen and cinematographer Phedon Papamichael do a wonderful job of carrying on the legacy of such a beloved series.

I appreciate the new take on an ageing Indiana Jones who can’t quite do as much, though, when necessary, pulls out his whip and signature moves. The CGI to make Ford younger was a bit jarring but it was neat to see flashbacks without using a different actor. The only qualm I really had, aside from a few moments of suspended belief that are inevitable with action movies, that the iconic theme song was played at odd moments rather than for triumphant victories.

Now you’re probably wondering about my two degrees of separation from Harrison Ford. He ordered a burger with nothing on it from my mother while she was working in a restaurant in my hometown – probably on some sort of diet. Obviously disappointed by the boring meal placed in front of him, he flipped the bun at her. So I have to dislike him on principle, but Indiana Jones is always a pleasure.

When creator and performer Roy Iro told me that Flames was a hip-hop musical but it wasn’t like Hamilton, I have to admit I couldn’t picture it. But boy was he right. As Iro’s counterpart Reon Bell said: “Flames is a show that is not ashamed of its unique voice.”

Flames is a detective drama set in Wellington. Five suspects find themselves mysteriously summoned to a crime scene: Don’s Enterprises has been set ablaze. The Don (Moana Ete), The Godfather (GypsyMae Harihona), and Andre ‘The Great’ Bambino (Rivera) are three experienced criminals, and they’re proud of it. Mathematically challenged Morgan Reed (Iro) and quasi-octogenarian Ian Sheff (Bell) are two detectives, and they’re thoroughly confused. With motives and accusations coming in hot, who will be found guilty of arson?

What I didn’t expect was for Flames to be so funny. And I mean genuinely funny. I laughed the whole way through. It’s clever, and it had me guessing the whole time. It plays on the tropes of the genre, but it moulds them into something fresh. From the beginning it laid out clues, it drew me in – I simply had to know who done it. Everyone has a motive; everyone has a means. With twists and turns, alliances and intertwined histories, the cast brilliantly dance around each other in a blazing and fiery tango of deceit and distrust, or perhaps it’s confidence and trust.

Flames celebrates the whakapapa of hip-hop culture in Aotearoa and truly showcases the genre in all its iterations. Between instruments, decks, and beatboxing, every piece of music is produced live on stage (sound design by Bell). The performers often switch out on instruments. A theatre performance and a concert, Flames is an incredible feat of musicianship, and it truly honours and elevates hip-hop while bending the rules of theatre. A testament to this was the audience moving and grooving, clapping and stomping, not constraining themselves whatsoever – and so they shouldn’t have. Flames is meant to be enjoyed collectively and out loud. It’s made to set the room ablaze.

I’m not a Marvel, DC, superhero saga, blow-everything-up movie girlie. Shocker, I know. But let me tell you my partner was very pleased when I asked if he wanted to see Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3. I thought he’d be extra happy when I asked if he’d watch the first two with me so I would know what’s what and who’s who. To my complete and utter surprise he informed me we had already watched the first one together? So we re-re-watched them.

As far as these movies go, the Guardians of the Galaxy series is quite fun, and it is refreshing. It has its issues – like they really couldn’t think of better aliens than just people dyed blue, red, or green? Really? But it is clever, and witty, and self-aware. There are a lot of jokes that poke fun at the genre itself and it was the first superhero series to not take itself so seriously. And before you come for me, I know they’re all based off comic books and I do respect the genre. I just think there are plot holes that could be avoided. Like sometimes space is deadly and sometimes it’s not. Sometimes they get lasered and almost die and other times they get rag-dolled against buildings for 20 minutes and don’t even tear their suits.

But Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3 is a good follow-up of the first two. John Murphy’s soundtrack – which the movies are famous for – is still just as banging. There are some very sweet and introspective moments between all the characters, like when they begin to appreciate each other’s strengths instead of critiquing weaknesses. You learn a bit more about Rocket the Racoon’s (Bradley Cooper) past as well. In fact, he is the protagonist of this chapter. The special effects and editing are of course top tier – think fast cuts, perfectly synchronised music, epic battle scenes. This movie is well made and it’s great fun.

My favourite part? The conversation we had afterwards about the moral implications of whether, due to his hyper-intelligence, Rocket is still a racoon.

Veteran entertainer Margaret Austin has had a more colourful life than most and Please Adjust Your G-string is a glimpse into the most luminous parts. Resplendent in gold high heels, a red jacket, and matching feather boa, she regales us with her adventures in travel and love. These are interspersed with snatches of era or location-appropriate music to which she employs her dance training and sashays along.

Born just after World War II in Palmerston North, she grew up in an environment “marked with a lack of excitement”, handing round her mother’s famous cucumber sandwiches to guests and musing on her mysterious journalist father’s emotional detachment. After a conventional school-university-teacher training-marriage path, it’s not surprising that this born adventurer decided to up sticks and head to Italy with two friends.

This was the beginning of numerous daring adventures, starting with a stint as an orange-skinned dancer at the Folies Bergère in Paris, then onto Cannes interviewing Anthony Hopkins for Playgirl magazine, and meeting a man from Cameroon in a nightclub with a briefcase full of gold bars, probably from Omar Sharif.

Austin is a charming and engaging performer who doesn’t shy away from the hard parts. A near and an actual sexual assault are also part of her European journey, which Ralph McAllister’s direction powerfully shows us as Austin steps down from her centre-stage podium and cowers against a pillar.

Her poetic nature burst out on a paper tablecloth in Greece where the attitude of Greek men towards women was the subject of her first scathing scribble, which we hear. She recites another of her lovely poems later in the performance to honour her lover and best friend Anthony, who some might remember as the Duke of Wellington. Running into both of her ex-husbands in the same supermarket inspired my favourite line of the night: “Romance may come and go, but groceries go on forever”.

What a privilege it is to share in such a well-lived life.

In both his pre-concert talk and within the concert, conductor Marc Taddei spoke of the arts gaining strength through collaboration across artforms.

Arjuna Oakes, a young singer-songwriter and his mentor, John Psathas, collaborated in the composition and performance of Safe Way to Fall, a short song for voice, piano, and orchestra. It was a deeply personal song. Oakes’ expressive performance and lovely voice, miked as befitted the genre, was well received by the audience which, unsurprisingly, included more young people than usual.

The performance of Béla Bartók’s ballet, The Miraculous Mandarin, was a collaboration involving both the Orpheus Choir and BalletCollective Aotearoa. While Taddei could have performed a concert version, he chose to include dancers and present the complete work. The dancing told a horrific story of sexual exploitation and violence extremely well. Alas, for me, the music became mere backdrop to the visual dance. Bartók described the music as “hellish” and “pandemonium”, but even so, I could not pay it much attention.

Also performed was Psathas’ saxophone concerto, Zahara, placing another story of brutality and endurance in the desert. The soloist, Valentine Michaud, won the hearts of the audience before she played a note, with a beautiful, billowing, desert-hot red-pink-orange gown. Using tenor and soprano saxophones, Michaud produced an astonishing range of colour: throaty, drone-like, screeching, quiet, full, and rich. The work evoked a still, hot, empty desert – a desert of mirages, dust devils, and danger – and men trudging through this unmerciful environment. 

It was a night for horrific stories. The concert began with Salome: Dance of the Seven Veils by Richard Strauss. Such exotic and seductive music produced by the string section and by the harp, flute, and clarinet! And such drama and import provided by brass and percussion sections! This was a very satisfying performance of a powerful work.

Pre-tour, Graham Gouldman – original band member/leader, vocalist, bassist, and guitarist – said that 10cc’s “main strength is the songs. Hit after hit after hit. It’s relentless. We show no mercy”. This was proven to a full Wellington Opera House. Joining Gouldman were Rick Fenn (lead guitar, bass, vocals), Paul Burgess (drums, percussion, keyboards), Keith Hayman (keyboards, vocals, guitar, bass), and Iain Hornal (vocals, keyboards, guitar, bass, mandolin, percussion) – five very talented multi-instrumentalists and singers. 

The pre-concert intro Son Of Man got me suitably hyped-up. The Second Sitting For The Last Supper was an energetic start on a stage bathed in a swarth of gorgeous hues of red and blue lighting. Hornal had some distracting minor technical issues initially, but neither his nor the band’s performance suffered, and the sound was impressive overall.

After Good Morning Judge, Fenn said “Wellington is a very special place for me, my dad was born here” to loud applause.

The Dean And I was followed by Old Wild Men, featuring a beautiful guitar interplay/duel between Fenn and Hornal. The Wall Street Shuffle came before Floating in Heaven, written last year by Brian May (Queen) and Gouldman. Fenn’s delicate but searing slide guitar did the song justice.

The popular The Things We Do For Love preceded the recent Hornal and Gouldman composition Say The Word. Then it was the pre-recorded intros for I’m Mandy Fly Me and the crowd favourite I’m Not In Love, featuring sublime four-part harmonies. Dreadlock Holiday, with the crowd singing enthusiastically, finished the set.

The first encore was an a cappella doo-wop version of 10cc’s first hit single Donna, with the band in a circle and featuring Hornal’s stunning falsetto voice, finished with an off-key note by non-singer Burgess to everyone’s amusement! Rubber Bullets had some of the audience out of their seats and dancing up a storm to end the evening.

Support act Hello Sailor, in “stripped-back unplugged mode”, were in fine form covering all their hits. Featuring original members Harry Lyon and Rick Ball, with Paul Woolright and Jimmy Taylor, this was a well-oiled machine.