Sean Burnett Dugdale-Martin & Jack McGee
In 2024 Art Murmurs reviewed 94 productions. 93 in Pōneke, and one in Tāmaki Makaurau (how could we pass up the opportunity to send someone to the red carpet premiere of The Lord of The Rings - A Musical Tale??). We are powered by amazing volunteer writers who consistently go above and beyond; case and point: Emilie Hope. Emilie received a community service award at the 2024 Wellington Theatre Awards because of her diligent and continuous work as editor, for years, despite being pregnant near the end of her reign at Art Murmurs. Congrats, Em! Thank you for everything.
We had a change in leadership in July when Austin Harrison, Emilie Hope, Jenny Nimon and Evangelina Telfar all took a step back from Art Murmurs administration to pursue other avenues- that’s when I took over! Now it’s a Sean-tatorship! Along with a long-serving, short-tempered (only on paper) company “gimp” (he asked me to call him that, I swear) Jack McGee!
Theatre reviewing continues to be an under-appreciated major organ in the local theatre body. Reviewing is free marketing, free archiving, free professional development (for the artists bearing the brunt of our kaupapa of constructive criticism) as well as entertainment (the critic hopes) all at once. Yet we see the sector and all its accoutrements suffering under the tightening of monetary buckles. Pantograph Punch went on hiatus, and James Wenley at Theatrescenes is pondering whether it’s feasible to continue to operate.
Personally, it helps me to think of the running and writing of Art Murmurs as a hobby, rather than a job. If I were to think about it as a job, there would be a chore-mentality and I would bristle up against the fact that no one is getting paid for this. Hobbyists keep things alive. Bird watchers are continual records of animal sightings, knitting groups create clothes for those in need, book clubs encourage more reading and volunteering needs no explanation. It does feel like I have manufactured a mindset as a survival mechanism but I would honestly recommend others to try their hand at casual reviewing. I began reviewing in 2022 because it seemed like a low-stakes way to get better at clearly communicating critical feedback. It turned out to be not-so-low-stakes but heaps of fun regardless.
This year we introduced star ratings to mixed reception. It’s an opt-in service for all those applying for a review. No one else really does star ratings here… and because some of our talent looks to find crowds in faraway lands I thought it would be useful to speak the same language as the marketing overseas. Without any stars on our posters it kinda looks like we’re just hiding the shitty ones we got, instead of what it is: a cultural omission.
The mixed reception of it all could be a fascinating insight into how local companies receive their ratings. It’s a bit like in high school with NCEA here in New Zealand, where some kids are chuffed to get an Achieved and others are crying because they didn’t get Excellence. I have yet to see much evidence of our stars on posters as of yet and I am not aware of any of the shows who have been star rated gearing up to do any overseas touring at the moment so… was it all worth it? Hard to say, as of yet!
Very recently there has been a shift in style with some of our reviewers. A more thoughtful, artistic response-style has crept into our recent reviews. I pinpoint the true beginning of this new movement to Jack McGee’s response to The Tempestuous: a thoughtful and characteristically long review from Jack which became as thought-provoking as the show it was responding to. From here I greatly enjoyed writing a more tangential response to Endling, Mia Oudes went personal with her thoughts on Thank You, Ten, and I kept the good vibes going with more reviews of the Six Degrees Festival at BATS Theatre.
Anyways, I have typed so much that the steam doesn’t rise from my coffee beside me anymore. Have a message from company gimp Jack McGee!
Here in our tiny city at the bottom of the world, there are two things killing our art. The first, and most important, is a lack of funding. We all know about that. I’m not going to put it any better than Karin McCrackin did. The second, is largely a side effect of the first. It’s apathy. A slow creeping rot of self-imposed insignificance.
I'm a strong believer that for our theatre scene to operate as it should, it requires a sense of shared delusion. On some level, we have to believe that the shows we are making are important. BATS needs to be off-Broadway, Circa needs to be the West End. The second we stop believing that our work is relevant, the whole thing crumbles. The thing that elevates our art from being a hobby isn’t a paycheck, it’s us.
Delusion is harsh. Our work does matter. It is important. While local art can’t help but feel insignificant in the face of internet-age-expectations of millions of views, it’s the specificity this smaller scope affords us that makes our work special. We’re writing the cultural record of Aotearoa, fighting the battle to keep our self-image from being eclipsed by the ever expanding balloon of North American media, a few dozen relatives and half-zoned-out boyfriends at a time.
This is why I love reviewing. A review is the one place where, for a few hundred words, some Newtownian twenty-something’s Fringe Show can be the most important piece of theatre on Earth. It’s allowed to be a masterpiece, a travesty, or a disappointment. It’s an act of respect. The beautiful delusion crystallised.
This year, there were over 10,000 instances where someone went to our website and clicked on a review or an article. You’re one of these people. You decided that a local work mattered enough that you wanted to see what someone else thought of it. Whether you saw the show or not, whether you liked the review or angrily re-shared it to your production team, whether you read it right through to the end or gave up when we brought up funding limitations, you cared. I’m immensely grateful for that. Your choice to click is a bullet against disillusionment, and you’re helping keep our art alive.
Now back to Sean…
Cheers, Jack! Now’s the time we get ourselves ready for our busy season: Fringe Festival! Fringe is always packed with heaps of stuff worth watching whether it’s good, great, garbage or simply nothing you’ve ever seen before. I love this breeding ground for the experimental and there’s no doubt you’ll be catching glimpses of our lurking reviewers hurrying between venues since shows inevitably go overtime. If you have an questions, if you want to review for us, or if there’s anything else you may want to get in touch about then feel free to email us as [email protected]
Finally, I am proud of all the reviewers from Art Murmurs who contributed this year and I would like to thank you all: Corey Spence, Jack McGee, Mia Oudes, Julia Bon-Mcdonald, Isaac Andrews, Austin Harrison, Evangelina Telfar, Emilie Hope, Jenny Nimon, Taylor-Rose Terekia, Brie Keatley, Katie Hill, El Yule, Lilli Margaret, Alia Marshall, Zoe Christall, Imogen Capes, Guy van Egmond, Tadhg Mackay and Abby Lyons.
Theatre reviewing continues to be an under-appreciated major organ in the local theatre body. Reviewing is free marketing, free archiving, free professional development (for the artists bearing the brunt of our kaupapa of constructive criticism) as well as entertainment (the critic hopes) all at once. Yet we see the sector and all its accoutrements suffering under the tightening of monetary buckles. Pantograph Punch went on hiatus, and James Wenley at Theatrescenes is pondering whether it’s feasible to continue to operate.
Personally, it helps me to think of the running and writing of Art Murmurs as a hobby, rather than a job. If I were to think about it as a job, there would be a chore-mentality and I would bristle up against the fact that no one is getting paid for this. Hobbyists keep things alive. Bird watchers are continual records of animal sightings, knitting groups create clothes for those in need, book clubs encourage more reading and volunteering needs no explanation. It does feel like I have manufactured a mindset as a survival mechanism but I would honestly recommend others to try their hand at casual reviewing. I began reviewing in 2022 because it seemed like a low-stakes way to get better at clearly communicating critical feedback. It turned out to be not-so-low-stakes but heaps of fun regardless.
This year we introduced star ratings to mixed reception. It’s an opt-in service for all those applying for a review. No one else really does star ratings here… and because some of our talent looks to find crowds in faraway lands I thought it would be useful to speak the same language as the marketing overseas. Without any stars on our posters it kinda looks like we’re just hiding the shitty ones we got, instead of what it is: a cultural omission.
The mixed reception of it all could be a fascinating insight into how local companies receive their ratings. It’s a bit like in high school with NCEA here in New Zealand, where some kids are chuffed to get an Achieved and others are crying because they didn’t get Excellence. I have yet to see much evidence of our stars on posters as of yet and I am not aware of any of the shows who have been star rated gearing up to do any overseas touring at the moment so… was it all worth it? Hard to say, as of yet!
Very recently there has been a shift in style with some of our reviewers. A more thoughtful, artistic response-style has crept into our recent reviews. I pinpoint the true beginning of this new movement to Jack McGee’s response to The Tempestuous: a thoughtful and characteristically long review from Jack which became as thought-provoking as the show it was responding to. From here I greatly enjoyed writing a more tangential response to Endling, Mia Oudes went personal with her thoughts on Thank You, Ten, and I kept the good vibes going with more reviews of the Six Degrees Festival at BATS Theatre.
Anyways, I have typed so much that the steam doesn’t rise from my coffee beside me anymore. Have a message from company gimp Jack McGee!
Here in our tiny city at the bottom of the world, there are two things killing our art. The first, and most important, is a lack of funding. We all know about that. I’m not going to put it any better than Karin McCrackin did. The second, is largely a side effect of the first. It’s apathy. A slow creeping rot of self-imposed insignificance.
I'm a strong believer that for our theatre scene to operate as it should, it requires a sense of shared delusion. On some level, we have to believe that the shows we are making are important. BATS needs to be off-Broadway, Circa needs to be the West End. The second we stop believing that our work is relevant, the whole thing crumbles. The thing that elevates our art from being a hobby isn’t a paycheck, it’s us.
Delusion is harsh. Our work does matter. It is important. While local art can’t help but feel insignificant in the face of internet-age-expectations of millions of views, it’s the specificity this smaller scope affords us that makes our work special. We’re writing the cultural record of Aotearoa, fighting the battle to keep our self-image from being eclipsed by the ever expanding balloon of North American media, a few dozen relatives and half-zoned-out boyfriends at a time.
This is why I love reviewing. A review is the one place where, for a few hundred words, some Newtownian twenty-something’s Fringe Show can be the most important piece of theatre on Earth. It’s allowed to be a masterpiece, a travesty, or a disappointment. It’s an act of respect. The beautiful delusion crystallised.
This year, there were over 10,000 instances where someone went to our website and clicked on a review or an article. You’re one of these people. You decided that a local work mattered enough that you wanted to see what someone else thought of it. Whether you saw the show or not, whether you liked the review or angrily re-shared it to your production team, whether you read it right through to the end or gave up when we brought up funding limitations, you cared. I’m immensely grateful for that. Your choice to click is a bullet against disillusionment, and you’re helping keep our art alive.
Now back to Sean…
Cheers, Jack! Now’s the time we get ourselves ready for our busy season: Fringe Festival! Fringe is always packed with heaps of stuff worth watching whether it’s good, great, garbage or simply nothing you’ve ever seen before. I love this breeding ground for the experimental and there’s no doubt you’ll be catching glimpses of our lurking reviewers hurrying between venues since shows inevitably go overtime. If you have an questions, if you want to review for us, or if there’s anything else you may want to get in touch about then feel free to email us as [email protected]
Finally, I am proud of all the reviewers from Art Murmurs who contributed this year and I would like to thank you all: Corey Spence, Jack McGee, Mia Oudes, Julia Bon-Mcdonald, Isaac Andrews, Austin Harrison, Evangelina Telfar, Emilie Hope, Jenny Nimon, Taylor-Rose Terekia, Brie Keatley, Katie Hill, El Yule, Lilli Margaret, Alia Marshall, Zoe Christall, Imogen Capes, Guy van Egmond, Tadhg Mackay and Abby Lyons.