Review: Blacksheep at Melbourne Fringe

Review by Greg Gorton

Dr Jae West is a poet, dancer, psychologist, choreographer, and street artist (of sorts). Her show, Blacksheep, is a vibrant, honest, and confronting look at how we deal with negativity, how we find our community, and how we find our voice. It also might be one of the most memorable experiences you could have at Fringe this year.

On the surface, Blacksheep won’t sound that “fringe” for the world of Melbourne theatre. It is an autobiographical tale of LGBTQIA+ experiences and health issues, presented through poetry, dance, and monologue. A pedestrian affair,and isn’t that such a wonderful thing to get to say! There are no tacked-on gimmicks here, or anything that might make someone browsing taglines from picking this show out of the dozens that are on during the very same time slot. But this is the one you want to see. Hopefully, while not as eloquent as Dr West, I can tell you why.

Best to start with the “content” of this work (both the story and the messages). While the above is a superficial description, and could be used to describe a good ten percent of this year’s fringe, there is much the other shows will unlikely cover. Blacksheep talks of teen peer groups, but it takes things further and talks about feeling like an outcast even when part of a community. Blacksheep talks about finding your sexual identity, but also about finding the courage to redefine it as you continue to grow. Most importantly, this is a work about finding a voice, an honest voice, even while still hearing those disparaging voices from childhood.

It is this honest voice of West’s that really takes the show above and beyond the others.

West is an impressive dancer, and even more impressive choreographer. While it is certainly cheer-worthy to watch her spin recklessly around the tiny stage, or throw her body around while wearing knee-high stilettos, I couldn’t help but be more impressed by the construction than the implementation. As West’s story of her life unfolds, each dance does not only represent the person she was at the time, but is also choreographed in a way I believed she might have at that point. So the pre-teen girl who loved the Spice Girls offered a dance filled with Literal interpretations, the young woman was far more interpretative, and the final piece? Perhaps I read into it too much, but it certainly felt like it was a culmination of all that had come before.

It isn’t simply the dance itself, either. West’s whole physical performance is carefully staged. I have this stupid image in my head of her performing on sand, hour after hour, but only ever leaving the same few footprints.

It isn’t simply the physical, though, because this same careful craftsmanship is there within the words. We often discuss the poetic nature of Shakespeare’s prose, or the hyper-realism of Sorkin’s scripts, and there is something similar happening in Blacksheep. Everything is heightened and specific, and the voice comes from a perfectionism West alludes to multiple times throughout the night. While not all will enjoy the poetry, it is hard not to respect how little difference there is between poetry and prose, and how natural everything sounds coming from her voice.

The pessimistic critic in me thought for a moment that this work might be over-scripted. It most certainly stood out if there was a stutter of falter, especially as they were so rare. However, by end of show I realised just how important those moments were - in a way, they were the perfect example of the message. No matter how carefully curated, the show tonight will never be seen again, and that is what makes theatre beautiful. It is what makes life beautiful - our differences.

It’s fair to think the above is corny, but I can’t see how a show in which a performer has poured sweat and tears into creating, in which every word has been carefully laboured over, and how it has been performed in a way few could possibly do so, could be the type that any would want to miss. I highly recommend people check out Blacksheep during the very short run it has at Fringe.

Image Supplied