Lost and found: secret discoveries on Sydney's streets
Artist Laura Sullivan has collected hundreds of notes she had found in various locations for the exhibition 'Found by Laura'.
Peter Munro is a journalist for the Sydney Morning Herald.
Artist Laura Sullivan has collected hundreds of notes she had found in various locations for the exhibition 'Found by Laura'.
Dancing is not for the faint of heart, back or knees. Dancing hurts. How weary, frail, painful and unprofitable the dance world seems. Award-winning choreographer Mia Michaels compares it to war, but waged by soldiers in spandex and hair buns.
"That bloody Sunbaker," was what Max Dupain dubbed his most famous photograph. The iconic Australian image of a bather on a beach – that bronzed skin, big wet hand and the sand and sky stretching into eternity – was little loved by its creator.
The sound of 700 IT workers, consultants, teachers, hipsters and retirees belting out the best of Gloria Gaynor at 8am on a sour summer's day in Sydney, is better than it might seem. Their voices are untrained, unpolished, unheard-of. They have come cradling hopes and takeaway coffees. They have come in activewear and smart casual. They are not singers but this is their choir.
To prepare for his latest role, Josh lawson spoke with Paul Hogan at length by telephone about his life, career and the challenges of living in LA. Lawson asked him whether it felt odd to have a TV series made about his life. "He said: 'Yeah, I don't know what all the fuss is about'."
Lille Madden said the words for the first time and the words sounded strangely familiar, like chittering birds on the back fence. "Nangami", which means to dream. "Wellama", to come back. "Putuwa", to warm your hands by the fire and squeeze gently the fingers of another person.
Sydney smells like chlorine and damp skin. Like sea air and blonde hair, heat and steam, a street protest and Mardi Gras in the rain. Like chalk drawings on a footpath by the beach. Or the fumes of a factory in the suburbs. Like salt mist. Like a women's refuge. Like an ice-cold oyster. Like a casino. Like a rendered brick wall. Like a $3.45 million home with bare kitchen benches and no water views.
The last time Helen Najjarine came from Condell Park to see the Sydney Opera House, she walked up the front steps and posed for a photograph, with her back to the sails, before walking back down again. The idea of going inside the building didn't occur to her.
The youngest artistic director in the history of the Sydney Theatre Company has big plans for change.
From unsightly sweat patches to forced family encounters, Peter Munro has tips on how to survive summer.
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