Fin by Kristy Edmunds

^{Photo: Carla Gottgens}

On the closing night of the 2008 Melbourne International Arts Festival I was presented with a beautiful box. Contained within are the thoughts, reflections, comments, compliments, gestures, songs and memorable miscellany from the people I have worked with over these many years. It's heavy! It's gorgeous! It's humbling and surprising and it is treasured. I have yet to go through it properly as I am waiting for a space where I can be still and reflect. I expect there to be much laughter, some serious tear shedding, and I already know I will be filled with complete gratitude.

I wish I could turn this last ArtsZine entry into a box of specialness for you - tactile and generous - but with this as my last pressing deadline at the Festival, and with limited space, I'll have to let a stream of consciousness suffice.

After four Festival programs, I have been filled up and spilled out so many times it's going to take me awhile to find myself again and put myself back into my skin. For that and all of you who have been integral, I can only say thank you.

Ibid.
Ibid.

2008 Melbourne Festival - an itemised list of indelible moments:

The intake of breath by a stunned audience who showed up for the opening of Dream of Life when I announced and brought to the stage, filmmaker Steven Sebring and Patti Smith. The second intake of breath across the crowd when Patti offered up a song before the film began. She dedicated it to two brand new baby boys in the world, Seneca and Ashby... it is entitled, "Grateful".

The headlines of the day as observed, written and put in print by the Newsboys - who made all of us aware of the small grace of a red ball in a schoolyard in Caulfield which had not moved for two days. Clever, pure, delicate, full of kindness and humour, the headlines they generated over the duration of their project were the most important headlines I have read in years.

The sublime concerts by The Schönberg Ensemble, the unrelenting power of Barbara Hannigan's voice. The unrelenting courage of Nigel Westlake and the commitment of the MSO for the Shadow Dances tribute. The phenomenal exchange of musicianship and mastery with Reinbert de Leeuw and the Chamber Music Australia gang.

The Opening Night Celebration and trying not to collapse at the knees when Senior Elder, Joy Murphy initiated me into the Wurrundjeri tribe. Followed by the Premier who in full spirit brought Nicky Bomba to the stage to kick off the concert where more than 70 musicians who now call Australia and Melbourne home, absolutely took full flight in front of more than 3,000 gathered audience members. The parade following the Yarra River to hand to Margie Mackay's Longing Belonging Land. Aunty Joy and Aunty Caroline, Possum-skin coats and white face paint like a salve. For these elders and their ancestors, for all.

Kudsi Erguner's poem to Geoffrey Gurrumul Yunupingu. Gurrumul's songlines to all of us, especially those with upside down guitars.

Miles of Suitcase Royale, who burped out his acceptance speech to thank the judges of the Children's Choice Awards.

Rus Snelling, upon the near completion of the echolocation installation, who said, "We got Birds!"

Tim Crouch and Jane Turner. Tim Crouch and Geoffrey Rush. Tim Crouch and Julie Zemiro. Tim Crouch and Kim Gyngell. Tim Crouch and Hannah Ringham. Hannah's father.

The tree beside the Blackbox theatre at the Arts Centre where I could look down to the street below and see two of our stage managers catching a quick smooch on their break before heading back to work.

Being hypnotised utterly by Antarctica, as offered and created by DJ Spooky and also rather differently but with equal resonance by the images of Anne Noble.

Having audiences completely split into parts by The Navigator and the string of debate and dialogue that ensued nightly. And by the physical divide of audiences in Two Faced Bastard which created such an unusual environment of choice. Here's to being able to have seen both of these works more than once!

Book of Longing: The poetry of living. There are so many moments in that work, but I can't get the violin solo in the downstage centre spotlight while fading to blackness out of my head.

The complete rendering of one formidable woman's journey in Kitten, which took a small community and three actresses to manifest.

Kartik Sheshadri and Arup Chattopadhyay at the BMW Edge, the lighting of the lamp for Diwali, and the vibrational speed of that music still reverberating around in the steel beams of the hall. And Lynette Wallworth's Evolution of Fearlessness, which is doing the same in the hearts and minds of so many.

The pinpoint focus of an audience and six dancers together in Deborah Hay's If I Sing To You (and the woman who actually joined them on stage because she couldn't bear to leave a gesture there without her).

Lucy Guerin's Corridor where at the end of the piece a woman sitting next to me, who had come in from regional Victoria for the Festival leaned over to me and said, "This is what its like to be young isn't it? I am glad that I am old, because I could never keep up with the confusion. Its like watching evolution."

To the unmoored flapping of one particular Festival banner at the very end of a precisely secured row of them. It simply would not adhere.

George Acheson and Nadia Ross in STO Union's 7 Important Things. And the woman after the show speaking casually to her friend who said to him, "You know, the 20th Century was really so deeply destructive."

Eve Sussman's Rape of the Sabine Women. Ibid.

Rita Antonioli, rushing around with her camera gathering more and more portraits like the true Carravaggio with a camera that she is.

Goran Bregovic's concerts in the State Theatre provided that venue with an almost architectural remodel due to the bigness, colour and fullness of that music. It was every wedding, it was every funeral, it was every lament and every joy.

Batsheva Dance Company. Batsheva's Three, Batsheva's MAX, Batsheva's gaga. Batsheva's precision made me see human beings with as much wonder as when a school of fish in unison all of a sudden changes course. And Ohad Naharin's voice ...

The TOTAL uncompromising work of art by Back to Back Theatre entitled Food Court. Not one cell went unused in that triumphant and complete piece of theatre.

Crooked Rib and Aerosol Arabic for the collaboration and open giving of their unique artistry. Confronting stereotypes with such humanity can only open our eyes to new possible ways of looking, thinking and being.

The audience in rapture with Interpreti Veneziani Baroque Ensemble. Who knew Vivaldi could again have the impact of a rock star in the modern world?! Who knew that photographs by Matthew Sleeth could do the same?!

Camille O'Sullivan ... how lucky are we to have again been in the house with her? She is simply a sheer force of nature.

eighth blackbird's The Only Moving Thing. This was the sleeper hit of the Festival, and leave it to a group of young people to find it and soak up every drop of what this incredible ensemble does. (Rumour has it they may be returning to Australia soon so keep your ears to the ground, then book tickets as soon as you can!).

Wendy Houstoun's Desert Island Dances and Happy Hour both. Could every day not just include one of those pieces please?

Cynthia Hopkins and Gloria Deluxe: Uncompromising imagination to create uncompromising honesty. Naked truth in an exceptional wig.

The impossible being made possible by the whole team of 21:100:100 !!! (It has been extended for a couple of weeks, and if you spent less than three hours in there, you have got to go back).

David Pledger's The Meaning of Moorabbin is Open For Inspection and the Footscray Community Arts Centre project, Rebecca Hilton's The GO Show ... let it never again be said that art cannot exist outside of the urban core.

The stark elegant ephemeral pool of Helen Herbertson and Ben Cobham's imaginative musings in Sunstruck.

The Ecstatic City of Chris Doyle - Melbourne made monumental in the moats of the NGVI. And Panther's Exercises in Happiness where the smallest of activities can bring so much respite (I still want to do the clay modelling while blindfolded if you ladies have any left).

Never have I experienced the use of food in such a way as in KAGE's Appetite. I will probably end up feeling gluttony just by eating a rice cracker after that one.

In Conversation every single day (and a particular man who has his Grandaughter's ‘dark' photographs on his wall, which would mean everything to a budding artist).

The Spiegeltent concerts every single night. Watching Lauren Snelling's programming soar and every artist and musician in the tent making something new with unfettered, full stretching into the next wave of music making. (I swear, some audience members just moved in to the Spiegeltent and were there night after night).

Madeleine Flynn and Tim Humphrey, every single day.

Lauren Snelling and Kara Ward every single day and night, night and day without cease.

Lou Bennett's "Sista" song at the closing party ... awesome.

Awesome in the extreme - The Artist Lounge. All hail the Lounge!

The children who created That Night Follows Day and the sheer gift of their insight and professionalism. I will never forget watching each of them take out the boomerangs that were put inside of their flower bouquets, and how each of them, desperate to give them a fling into the air, held onto the flowers with equal enthusiasm while greeting the audience after the show.

Three cheers to the Children's Choice Awards in every single way one can whoop and holler.

The chaos intended in The Big Game by Polyglot Puppet Theatre where a young boy became afraid of the grumpy volcano, but found it a far worse thing when the volcano died ... until it came back to life as a Volcano that "wasn't grumpy anymore."

El Automovil Gris: What can I say here? I still just cannot fathom how they ever came up with that indescribable work. I wish I could feel so enthralled and full of riotous laughter, along with devastating moments of insight, every time I sat in a theatre. I have taken to answering in multi-linguistic gibberish now and again, as it does seem a bit more complete than a tidy quote.

No tidy quotes to be had in Oskaras Koršuvonas' rendition of Romeo and Juliet. I remain awestruck, as have the audiences that were there. I think this company will be held responsible for the artistic migration of many into Lithuania. Tour de Force!

To the inexhaustible generosity of Patti Smith. In song, in photography, in pure poetry. To the transformative power of her artistry. To the lineages of the poets and artists you bring through to us and conjoin with. I am still speechless.

To The Black Arm Band and the Melbourne Symphony Orchestra, Steven Richardson and ArtsHouse for igniting the Hidden Republic in us all, past, present and future. There has been nothing more profoundly clear to me than the power of this offer of a new legacy.

Toshi Reagon and BigLovely who sang out the last notes of the 2008 Melbourne International Arts Festival.

... and my torn achilles tendon which will apparently take six weeks to heal, a tiny span of time compared to how long all of these experiences will resonate.

And although it feels like everything, it is also really only one chapter in a long evolving festival history, and so I would also just like to say that I look forward to what is yet to come.

With gratitude,

Kristy