Paul in Sweet Dreams; photo by Alison Huth

interview by Simon Sellars

‘Sweet Dreams: Shaken not Stirred’ was originally published in Subterrain magazine #1, December 2005.

Theatremakers Nadja Kostich and Jeremy Angerson began a rewarding collaboration with Big Issue vendors after seeing a TV ad featuring several sellers singing for their supper. According to Jeremy, “we stopped to chat to some vendors and asked questions about how they got to occupy their pitch on the street corners of the city. We both knew this was the next project, after they made us laugh and cry with their experiences”. From there, Sweet Dreams was born, a play drawing upon the dreams of homeless and dispossessed people via video projections and light shows, a four-piece band provided live accompaniment (baroque, jazz and so on) and two dancers punctuating the enactments with impressionistic body stylings. I wondered: how did the directors find the experience?

When Sweet Dreams was all done and dusted, how did you pull up?

NADJA: When the final curtain fell and Jim had finished one of his post-show spruiks to the audience, we collapsed into tears. We loved these guys and they felt it but there was so much rawness there. How could there not be? This was a group who had survived addiction; physical, emotional and sexual abuse; incarceration, street life. Everyone in our team, cast and crew, felt the pressure of mounting this show. There were tears and people going off, pre- and post-show, but somehow we all maintained a friendship.

It sounds draining. Would you do it again?

NADJA: Once is all we have in us. As a two-person company with a baby that needed attention and no funding left, there was no way on earth for us to withstand the rigour and discipline of applying for further funding, or of actually going on tour. The reception to the show was overwhelming and funding bodies encouraged us to apply, but unfortunately we had not one ounce of energy to keep going.

I asked the performers about the process of getting their stories onto the stage. None seemed reluctant to reveal the most intimate details of their lives.

JEREMY: We didn’t have to do any convincing. The idea was that it was a process of attraction. We spoke to all the Big Issue vendors at various meetings, and it was Kylie, Paul, Robbie, Allan and Jim that ended up staying. Sometimes in rehearsals they revealed that a particular aspect of their story had touched a nerve, or that they’d had a bad dream, but more than anything they wanted their stories seen, heard and understood. When they specifically asked us to keep something out we did.

How were you able to synthesise these stories into a coherent and empathetic whole, from an outsider’s perspective?

NADJA: It was difficult but that’s the nature of any artistic process, not just because we haven’t experienced homelessness. We approached the performers as human beings first and worked with the raw material they gave us, looking for links and patterns. Each person played a character based on themselves, because everything had to be distilled into an essence. Much material was left out and only particular stories left in. Our approach is to make soulful theatre, looking for what makes us human – the whole spectrum – without judging it, vilifying it or glamourising it.

Kylie and Robert, in particular, praised your working methods and said that you got the best out of each of them. Can you give a little insight into your method?

NADJA: Our process was gradual and respectful: we chatted individually, then filmed interviews, and then the workshopping process began, with a focus on bonding the group and finding out what they had in common. We also worked individually with improvisations. Kylie and Robbie were great to work with at all times, and Paul was very committed from the start. Jim’s an absolute character, a renegade, and it was great to see Allan blossom as a performer. They all shone in the play and loved performing and they felt their impact on others. Maybe the hardest thing for Allan was experiencing the success of the show and not knowing what to do with that feeling. He kept saying that everything he ever did had turned to shit. He just didn’t know what to do with this experience. When we saw him shortly after the end, he said he had gone and slept in an alleyway one night. He has a flat, so we asked ‘why’. He said he didn’t know – he just wanted to feel that feeling again.

Allan told me that he expected some emotional support after the play had ended. But is counselling part of your role? Is it unfair to expect you to shoulder that burden?

JEREMY: We would not know where to begin in counselling Allan or anyone. But it’s probably easy to project hopes and fears onto people in leadership positions in these kinds of projects. For some you represent a missing parental figure from whom the participant seeks love and approval, for others an authority figure to fight and rebel against. A few pretty much keep their projections to themselves and see you for what you are: just a human being giving it everything, with the flaws and the beauty sitting side by side. Jim rings us regularly for a chat and the latest footy tips. And it was great to bump into him and Allan the other day and find out they’re in another play together. Thankfully, we didn’t put them off the theatre experience altogether!

Image of Jim in Sweet Dreams; photo by Alison Huth

Was the multimedia approach an accurate reflection of the content?

JEREMY: You can choose any medium provided it’s approached with honesty. The play began with the idea that it was about the dreams of the homeless, where the voices of the dispossessed could speak their visions of the future. We began with the idea of including different mediums, but we were ready to drop any that would have the appearance of being contrived or imposed. We planned on using a circus performer and she actually started work, but it immediately felt wrong and not truthful to the material so we stopped. Using video, dance and music seemed an appropriate expression of the characters’ inner and outer worlds, the parts they rarely reveal: their secret selves, hopes and dreams, and their nightmares.

What did you want your audience to get out of the play. What was the ultimate reaction?

NADJA: We had a vision that the audience would realise that there is nothing between them and the performers – that we are all connected as human beings. And we had a stunning reception! Twelve standing ovations – if you know Melbourne audiences you would realise how rare this is. People were overwhelmed, confronted, thrilled. We got great reviews, great pre-publicity; George Negus did a feature story. It really captured people’s imaginations and hearts.

Do you think there should be more funding for arts practice with respect to homeless and marginalised people?

JEREMY: Yes. Our dream was that one of the Sweet Dreams vendors would take on the job of arts coordinator in their community – to organise facilitators to come and run workshops on every arts subject imaginable. But unfortunately we don’t have the infrastructure to assist with or to mentor further activity. This is what leaves us with a feeling of incompletion, and maybe some of the vendors, too: we made this amazing thing together but we could not keep it alive because we did not have the resources. There’s great sadness in that.

Kylie in Sweet Dreams; photo by Alison Huth

interviews by Simon Sellars

‘Sweet Dreams: Back to Waking Life’ was originally published in Subterrain magazine #1, December 2005.

The play Sweet Dreams took an unflinching look at the battle that Big Issue vendors Paul, Kylie, Jim, Robert and Allan fought to survive drug addiction, physical disabilities, incarceration and the trauma of mental illness. Heavy psychological territory, then, and totally suited to the multimedia approach weaved into the stories by directors Nadja Kostich and Jeremy Angerson. Ultimately, though, the play is about survival, friendship, healing and inner strength. We’ve already seen how Nadja and Jeremy coped with the emotional abyss Sweet Dreams excavated; now let’s see how the performers fared.

How did you find the experience of performing in Sweet Dreams? Was it painful to put your life story up there for all to see?

PAUL: It opened my mind up again. It made me face my own fears, know what I mean?

KYLIE: I really enjoyed it. I like singing. I was in choir at school and I got to sing a piece in Latin for Sweet Dreams.

JIM: The play taught me one very important thing: the value of comradeship. I always knew Kylie and Paul and Robbie, but me and Allan hardly talked to each other before Sweet Dreams.

Robert; photo by Ilana Rose

ROBERT: It was good because it gave us lots of compliments. It gave me more confidence; before I wouldn’t speak up about anything.

ALLAN: Getting my story out helped me a little bit with recovery, but it brought back a lot of nightmares. I went through hell. I talked about being molested by my uncle, by my father. I went through hell. I opened up my heart to do this play, right? And I go through nightmares.

Do you regret doing it, then?

ALLAN: I just wish we had some support. I ain’t seen the directors since.

KYLIE: Well, what support’s meant to be there?

PAUL: What Allan’s trying to get at was that everyone was intensely bringin’ out the most personal details of their life, right? And at the end of the play we was just cut off. We couldn’t do nuthin’ except go back to work as a vendor, and then there’s hundreds of people walkin’ past you every day and they say, ‘Hey, you were in that play’. I had friends of my family who I don’t even know, and they’ve seen the play and they’re asking me, ‘Did that really happen, Paul?’ or ‘Do you remember me?’ It’s scary. I would have liked a couple of months’ break after that, just to sort my mind out because it was pretty intense.

ALLAN: A lot of people from television came to see us after the play; they all said we had talent. But if we’ve got all this talent that they reckon we’re so good at, why haven’t we got people ringing the Big Issue and saying ‘Let’s employ this guy?’

Well, there’s very little acting work in Australia, even for professional actors. There’s no real TV or film industry in this country any more.

Allan; photo by Ilana Rose

ALLAN: Yeah, but I felt that we were used, I really did. Because of the play me and Paul were asked to be extras on Stingers and we were meant to be paid, but the production closed down and we never got nothing.

That’s my point: the industry can’t sustain itself. I wouldn’t say you were targeted. There are a lot of out-of-work actors in this country.

ALLAN: Still reckon we were used. I would have liked some counselling, some support, you know what I’m saying? I put my life up there.

But is that the director’s role? Sure, they’re there to help you get across your life story, but they can’t be counsellors at the same time. I think that’s asking too much of anyone.

KYLIE: I got a lot out of it; I don’t think we were used. I think we all worked together and Jeremy and Nadja really brought out the best in us. There was a method to what they got us to do. We were doing improvisations physically, or they got us to do a writing exercise. It’s funny the way you remember things; writing down what happened in my life made me realise I’d always remembered things in a different order.

ROBERT: Nadja and Jeremy were the best – they were really professional.

They must have done something right, because the play got a lot of attention in the media.

KYLIE: Yeah, but when I was interviewed in the papers they didn’t quote me properly. I’d say one sentence and they’d miss out the end of it.

They need to edit because of space restrictions; I’ll need to edit this interview.

KYLIE: Yeah, but cutting a sentence in half? They changed the whole meaning of what I wanted to say. But the other papers were funny; one said I was an attention seeker!

I reckon you’d need to be to be a vendor. Do you enjoy selling the Big Issue?

ROBERT: It’s great. I mean, every now and then it is; when it’s summertime I enjoy it. It’s not fun when it’s cold.

Jim; photo by Ilana Rose

JIM: Vending’s given me a chance to make me self-esteem better, to live with meself better and meet wonderful people who I’ve made many friends out of, down the market where I work.

PAUL: I find it pretty cool but what I don’t like is the people that give me the shits, you know, just smart remarks. You get plenty of that.

JIM: Yeah. Like when our holiday edition came out. It had this big wave on the cover and it was put together before the tsunami, but it came out just as the tsunami hit. And one of me customers said to me, ‘That’s wrong’. I said, ‘What do you mean, madam?’ And she said, ‘Well, youse are making a profit out of other people’s misfortune’. I just said, ‘Fair enough ma’am, that’s your opinion’. But it was beyond our control. The tsunami happened after it was printed.

PAUL: I copped it, too. This old lady was giving me that much bullshit for about 20 minutes, saying how disgusting I was, callin’ me racist and all this, and I said ‘Why? I was married to an Indonesian’. Then I said to her, ‘Just wait a second, madam’. And I started spruiking in a really loud voice: ‘Get yer latest copy of the tsunami folks! Only four dollars a wave! Come and surf the tsunami!’ That pissed her right off. Never seen her again.

Did you do any other creative work before Sweet Dreams?

PAUL: I worked as an extra. I was in a shocker of a film called Trojan Warriors. I didn’t enjoy that; terrible film.

ALLAN: I did a show with Narcotics Anonymous at a convention. You know the song ‘Hey Big Spender’? We changed that to ‘Hey Big Sponsor’ and I went on stage and sung it in drag. I also played Dr Kevorkian in a wrestling ring. You know, ‘Dr Death’ – I played him as a wrestler.

ROBERT: I did some plays with Footscray Community Centre.

JIM: I done nothin’.

KYLIE: I acted as a kid and then I was on Young Talent Time doing four-part harmonies. I was part of the Ozanam Community Centre band (p44) for a while and I’m still in contact with some of the guys; it would be good if we could get funding to continue on with that. It was great for the people who performed on the CDs because they’d never done anything like that before. It just made them feel really good. Then a couple of years ago we all did Arnold Zable’s writing workshop.

Did you enjoy working with Arnold?

KYLIE: Oh yeah! Give him my love, would ya? He told us to paint with words and that was just the best advice. He told me I’d found my voice.

Do you feel comfortable telling me about your circumstances, about how you came to be vendors for the Big Issue?

PAUL: If I felt uncomfortable about it I wouldn’t have done the play, ya know what I mean? Nah, I don’t give a shit. I’m 42 and I’ve been a drug addict for 20-odd years, got into this and that. Escaped jail in Australia but got caught overseas.

JIM: ‘And I’m in lurrvvve!’

Paul; photo by Ilana Rose

PAUL: He’s trying to put words into my gums; yeah, I’m in love. Kylie, she’s my second half.

KYLIE: We knew each before the Big Issue, Paul and I – we both grew up in the same suburb. We met up again in Arnold’s workshop after all those years. I thought, ‘I know that face’.

ROBERT: I’m 58 and I joined the Big Issue because I wanted something to do and a bit more money to spend at weekends.

ALLAN: I started off in Oz House (see p82) nine years ago. Someone there told me about the Big Issue; I just built it up from there and haven’t stopped. It’s kept me out of jail – I’ve been out for 12 years now. I was inside for manslaughter in 1990, self defence, and I was inside for armed robbery in 1983. The Big Issue saved my soul.

So what’s your story, Kylie?

KYLIE: I’m 35 and I lived a life of confusion from when I was 20 to now; drunken oblivion confusion actually, just craziness. I just kind of lost my mind. I sort of had a different brain to everyone else at school. I was going crazy from about 15 on and then I went mad at 20. They put me away and then they put me on medication. I’ve been juggling different pills and things, still tryin’ to work out what suits me best. But I’m definitely a lot more clear-headed than what I have been. I can relate to people generally. The Big Issue has given me a community and a family and that’s helped.

PAUL: Yeah, she was on the outside lookin’ in, but I dragged her right into the middle!

What about you, Jim? Any last words?

JIM: I came to the Big Issue because of boredom; I don’t wanna talk about my life. It’s all in the play.