When something really speaks to us, we will spend hours trawling the web, theorising with others – trying to find out what significance those lyrics held, or how our favourite author goes about the writing process. Knowledge of how a piece of art comes to be can add so much to the story it tells – context simply contributes a major layer of meaning after the fact. I couldn’t tell you why, maybe we’re just creepy voyeurs. Regardless, this voyeuristic/totally-not-weird frame of mind was what I went into Art, Sex and Snacks with – the idea of hearing about the creative practice of a broad line-up of artists was an exciting thing for me. But we were not met with the “anarchic hit” that was promised, instead, we endured almost half a shows worth of polite conversation, gentle banter and forced discussion on the artistic process of a ukulele songstress, a burlesque dancer, a choreographer and a comedian whose “dad-has-just-discovered-internet-humour” jokes were fairly cringe-worthy.

All was not lost, however, as the show progressed into the “sex and snacks” foray. A conversation about each artist’s favourite snacks (guilty or otherwise) and an exploration of their sexuality and sexual practices, this was the panel show I’d been hoping for – chaotic, loud and uncontrolled. People were interrupting each other; the audience was contributing with bursts of genuine, surprised laughter and raucous applause for outlandish snacks and sexual preferences. Art, Sex and Snacks became instantly more enjoyable when the Art portion was out of the way – it ended with a group of witty, personable and interesting people talking hilarious nonsense. Host Lisa-Skye was charming, doing her best with the slightly awkward, too-civil exchanges she had to work with; she’s equal parts preposterous personality, warm laughter and genuine regard. While I was disappointed on the Art front, I ultimately enjoyed an involving thirty minutes of funny people talking nonsense about food and sex.

Check out the Melbourne Fringe Guide for details.