How I’m using ‘cultural dramaturgy’ to support Truth-telling in Australian theatre

This article was written with the consultation and permission of the cultural collaborative Mob who assisted with Fiasco.

We need to encourage more Truth-telling of the history of this nation, particularly in the wake of the failed Voice Referendum, and in the hopeful lead up to Australia’s first treaty.

Theatre is an important way to educate audiences about histories that still affect First Nations people today.

Blak theatremakers and companies such as Ilbijerri Theatre Company, Yirra Yaakin Theatre Company, and Moogahlin Performing Arts are leaders in best practices for staging First Nations stories. Their ways of working often involve collaboration and engagement with First Nations communities to ensure representation and staging of their stories are self-determined.

But Truth-telling can’t just be left up to us Mob. We need white Australians to be honest about this nation’s colonial histories too.

Non-Indigenous theatre practitioners creating productions about our collective histories should work alongside First Nations people. A way to address this can be done through a process I call “cultural dramaturgy”.

Theatre as a vehicle for Truth-telling

Yagera/Butchulla dramaturg and theatremaker Kamarra Bell-Wykes and theatremaker Sarah Woodland state in the context of creating theatre for health education, First Nations cultural leadership should be present at “every stage from conception through to production, performance, and touring”.

The dramaturg works with the playwright and other creators to hone a play for the greatest impact. As a cultural dramaturg, I am involved in the development of the script while also working with Mob-specific consultants. These collaborators have cultural authority to approve or veto certain aspects of the story and how it’s told on stage.

I have yarns with the playwright and I look over the script’s first draft to ensure there is nothing culturally or historically inaccurate or insensitive.

After these edits, I send it to Mob-specific cultural consultants. They can decide how they would like to make changes to the way they or their Mob are represented. Some cultural consultants don’t work in the performing arts, so my role can also involve making sure they’re across how everything works.

I recently worked with comedian Sammy J (the stage name for comedian Sam McMillan) for his Melbourne Fringe production of Fiasco. Sammy’s show was an interesting exercise in how to approach a comedy of two problematic figures while honouring the representation of First Nations people.

Crafting a fiasco

Fiasco is a fictionalised, comedic retelling of the story of white explorers Robert O’Hara Burke and William Wills on their 1860–61 expedition to trek from Melbourne to the Gulf of Carpentaria – and how things went awry.

In his research, Sammy found Burke and Wills interacted with First Nations groups during their journey more than commonly believed.

In our initial conversations, Sammy was open about his fear of how to navigate the project. During the early stages of writing, I found a cultural consultant from the Mob who would feature in the play. I yarned with them, and they conducted yarns with Mob.

The Mob established early they did not want to be named in the show, and for the First Nations character to not have their name mentioned. The First Nations character this person was based on was renamed Jack, played by Nyimpaa actor and musician Pirritu (Brett Lee).

In the final draft, the cultural consultant requested the Mob only be named at the closing line of the show.

Cultural engagement does not ensure practitioners will gain the approval to have every detail of these stories told. The right for Mob to refuse is equally as important as the right to be included.

In the story, Jack guides the audience, who are positioned as a group of First Nations people. Burke (James Pender) is the antagonist, firing his gun over a group of First Nations peoples’ heads, assuming they are hostile – they were actually offering food and trying to alert the travellers of their rescue team having left hours earlier.

Wills (Sammy J) appears to be the more benevolent of the two, with a wholesome bromance established with Jack.

There’s a moment of cultural exchange when Wills and Jack sing in a combination of English and Jack’s Language (in this production, actor Lee’s Language, translated by Nyimpaa academic Aunty Dr Lesley Woods).

The production comically addresses the audacity of Burke and Wills. Two “Victorian men” who can fabricate the last leg of their journey and still get fame, refuse to admit when they need help, and act like they’re the main character in every story, disregarding everyone around them who “has their own shit going on”.

Towards the end of the show, the friendship between Wills and Jack is revealed to not be as genuine as first suggested. Burke forces Wills to read aloud from his journal, reciting the racist way he had written about Aboriginal people. The audience later learns that, in the journal, Wills never mentioned anything about his friend Jack despite claiming how important he was.

Jack concludes the story singing of the death of the white explorers who were a footnote in his story, when they thought it was the other way around.

Marginalised stories are often excluded through fear from non-Indigenous theatre practitioners about “getting it wrong”. Through methods such as cultural collaboration, engagement and dramaturgical practices, stories can be told in a way not only determined by First Nations people, but which creates theatre Mob can enjoy, too.