Blog
November 2023
Phew!
It. Has. Been. A. Min. Ute!
2023 (the latter bit!)
Winnie The Pooh: The New Musical Stage Adaptation
Ok. I’ve avoided it long enough. I’m ready to talk about Pooh. I’m ready to discuss what its meant to me.
Here’s the TL/DR.
I auditioned in May at breakneck speed after returning from Bali.
1 tape. Two call backs. Two weeks between to find out if I had a part.
I was with my very dear friend Allanah, who is on Bluey and who I envied and wanted to be just like at the time I got the call. I got the call. We got 3 weeks rehearsal and one week’s tech and previews. We played over 60 shows in 11 venues in six states over four months from July-October. It was the trip of a lifetime. But it was also the crew of a lifetime. The role of a lifetime. The exact moment I needed to experience in that point of my career. I discovered more about myself than I expected. I found love along the way. It was really, truly life changing and it’s very hard to let go of. I am so, so proud and incredibly grateful.
That’s the short version.
Here's the rest of it. Here’s what Pooh means to me. Let me tell you a story.
Sit down. Get comfy. This will be a long one.
When I was four. I went with my mum to pick up my brother from primary school. Unprompted, and tired of waiting for the bell to ring, I burst into the staff room and announced who I was, who my brother was and that I was coming to their “big school” next year. That room of surprised and delighted teachers who declared they would have me in their class next year were my first public audience. I loved it. And it’s the most authentic example of me I can recall. But I didn’t discover where to put it all until I was 9 or 10.
By then, I’d been introduced to bullies. But Ms Hristofski put me in the year four play and the following year I was in the school musical and the following year I went to Vanuatu on a performance tour with my drama school without my parents at age 11 was off to a performing arts high school the year after that.
But here’s the catch – when you’re good at one thing in the local state school and then you go to the school where all the other kids who were also good in their state schools go to be performing artists – yes you find your people. But you’re just a shiny object in a room full of other shiny objects. And you’re a bit dimmer than others, and shinier than some. I was introduced the culture of people who would polish you and those you’d try to grease you up so they could slip ahead. Growing up in performing arts, you go to a lot of auditions. You’re pitted against kids far better looking than you, more popular than you. You’re under the enormous pressure of the fact your parents took days off work to pull you out of school, to drive you to the most undriveable of places in Sydney to wait with you for three hours so you can have your five minutes to impress someone enough to make the experience worth the parking ticket your mum doesn’t even know she’s gotten yet. And then you don’t get it.
And as a kid, you don’t have neither the tools nor the language to unpick the kind of self-deprecation that follows. Suddenly the thing you love becomes the thing you’re apprehensive of. Suddenly you’ve lost your confidence, suddenly the people who support you lose their confidence in you. Suddenly you avoided theatre almost altogether for almost 7 years and you’re in a career you never wanted. Suddenly you’re not only unshiny, you’re actively hiding your shine from others. And then darkness gets the better of you.
And then just as suddenly - you’re asked to teach kids drama after school once a week, even though you’re only qualified to teach art. And suddenly you’re given a Drama class to teach a few years later, and suddenly you’re being sent to camps and conferences and suddenly you realize you’ve made the kids who are just like you were the same space you had when you were their age. And it leads you back. Slowly, it coaxes you in. It overtakes. Maybe you could be safe in theatre again yourself.
Suddenly it clicks. You do one show. It goes well. You wait a while. You do another. It goes well. You go overseas to test your luck. That blows the door wide open. And then you decide to shift your life to have a proper go. At 29. And the last four years in Melbourne have been me clawing my way back to theatre. Into a ready state. Shaking the imposter syndrome. Putting in the work. Developing the networks and getting the training I needed to feel like I belonged.
So, By the time I auditioned for Pooh, I was still going to get a parking ticket. But all the pressure wasn’t there anymore. For the first time ever, I could hold myself in two frames of mind – that I wanted this really badly and that I knew I would be ok and that there were other things going on for me if I didn’t get it. And so, with that in mind, I walked into the room w i t h o u t nervousness. Without fear. And it’s the first time someone has seen me in one of those rooms without it.
And it worked. But it was an agonizing wait. And there were some hard truths and tough lessons I had to wise up to about the current state of our theatre industry along the way. I'm glad I know what I know now. Knowing makes doing it again seem less far away.
The month of rehearsals that followed auditions while also doing a puppetry festival show was so challenging. But so, so wonderful. Where in independent theatre do we EVER get four weeks of paid rehearsal? I’ve never felt so ready.
And then the tour kicked off. How many chances do we get as performers, to do a show 60 times? For it to set in? For it to become our day in day out? Its never happened to me before. How many people can say they've performed a leading role at The Sydney Opera House? Or The Melbourne Comedy Theare? I'm sorry for all the rhetorical questions here but I'm really still blown away by all that this show granted me to tick off my bucket list.
The past few months have been spent taking stock. Going through all the photos. Missing the people that became my family. Come back down to earth. Coming back to that square one place. The place I was in before this happened, so I could understand what has changed and how it has changed me. And that kind of processing takes a long time.
What I’ve understood is – I’m more ‘me’ than I have ever been before. I’m Alex Joy – a person who isn’t shrouded in the shame placed upon me. A person who has unlearnt all the versions of myself society required me to be to belong. And I can finally do the things that four year old boy believed he could. I always could. I just needed to believe it, wholly, resolutely. And now I do.
The journey to becoming Winnie The Pooh fulfils and aligns my journey to self discovery and self actualisation. Of being myself. Of loving myself. And being loved for myself. And even finding someone who loves me back along the way! And I’m so proud that so many of you got to see me do that because for me, you seeing it proves that it happened.
That’s what it means to me to have been Australia’s Winnie The Pooh. What're more is to have been given the trust to hold the legacy of this character in my hands. Pooh's voice, his gesture, his manner - they are not only iconic but they are so interconnected with the reason why people love him so much. To be able to stop hiding behind the puppet and become one with the puppet in the case of Pooh to try my hand at giving him that has been the greatest honour. To be part of just a handful of international people who've played this role, thats something. And to have travelled around the country with some of your very best friends and exceptionally talented performers whom you respect and love. Thats everything. And to be doing all that while doing that thing you love called puppetry full time? Icing on the cake.
Thanks for reading. More to come.
Alex
September 2021
The dark and difficult times in the life of the artist roll on. Don't worry, this isn't going to be a sad and negative post. You've seen too many of those already and I'm not here to add to the noise.
Probably one of the most trending words of this pandemic has been "pivot". This corporate buzz word certainly does deserve to maintain its hold in 2021 thanks to the looming presence of snap lockdowns that have hung over our heads this year. With pivoting comes the realisation that we have all learnt something from 2020, we have become the masters of change. I'm struck by the resilience we've developed here in Melbourne. I remain constantly in awe of teachers and students who I've had the pleasure of working with this year.
I'm flawed by what has happened to artists and entertainment workers with regards to venue and work restrictions relative to the exceptions that have been made to sport and sporting venues. But I'm always so surprised by how artists and creative works find ways to reach their audience.But this isn't about telling artists 'keep going you're doing great'. Because that pulls focus away from the fact that artists need help and they are under constant threat of what little support there is being taken away. Me, I'm lucky enough to fall back into classroom teaching when things get tough. But I am weaker than many more artists who stay the course and maintain their creative practice in spite of a pandemic and who stick it out in this financially and mentally perilous period.
Did you know that "pivot" is also a noun as well as a verb. Google's dictionary function describes it as:
a person or thing that plays a central part in a situation or enterprise.
ie. "the pivot of community life was the local theatre"
The local theatre's such as The Butterfly Club, Chapel off Chapel and La Mama Theatre are the ones who are doing it the most tough and they are also the theatres that give new artists like my self a space to exist and emerge from. You guys are the pivot of the community in Melbourne's arts and culture scene. You You guys are my heroes.
And "pivot" is also a word used in puppetry mechanisms
"the central point, pin, or shaft on which a mechanism turns or oscillates."