On a blustery and frankly depressingly wet evening in unpredictable Radelaide, I run into The Garden of Unearthly Delights, little rivers of water trickling down the paths. Once inside (after an extensive battle with my battered umbrella), I sink into my seat, the warmth of a full house of eager audience members filled the tent. Rain pours down the awnings of The Idolize Speigeltent, the pitter patter somewhat comforting.

All of a sudden the rain is all but forgotten…the lights shine on, and Kate Miller-Heidke appears on the stage. She smiles, almost bashfully, and begins to sing immediately. Her voice is strong, almost piercing at first inside the small tent. Guests are still spilling through the doors, and with nowhere to sit, they stand staring at the blonde beauty, obviously in her element. She sways to and fro, her long skirts floating in the breeze of her steps.

Her first song seems to end so quickly, the audience mesmerized by the sound. We quickly snapped out of it, brought back to life with Kate’s vivacious personality and wicked (in both meanings of the word) sense of humour. “I’m so sorry about the rain,” she says, ”I’m just trying to think of it as one big Dido song!” The audience laughs, but only for a moment, as she drifts back into song.

The Brisbane-born artist’s songs are all intricate stories, some she says specifically are taken from her own life. I think it is part of the mystery of her character that we are not privy to know the extent to which the tales pertain to her own experiences.

One of her songs describes the tradition of the Triple J Hottest 100 on Australia Day, and another, she says, is essentially all about “being socially awkward, which is something we can all relate to.” They are a mixture of comedic wit, beautiful chords and melodies all strung together in an addictive little tune.

The sounds created are gorgeous, with Kate on vocals and piano (and the occasional maraca), a back-up singer who creates beautiful harmonies, and a guitarist with character to burn. With the ability to perform blissful background strumming, the guitarist, Keir Nuttall, who is also Kate’s husband (coolest. couple. ever.), produces some of the best solo jams I have seen in a while.

Kate flits between old and new tunes, sporadically adding in operatic arpeggios. Stunning. Classically trained, the songstress reveals to us that she has just been in London performing in an opera. Somewhat unexpected, her classical singing appears several times in the performance, stirring a host of ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ amongst the audience.

As soon as she lifted the microphone from her lips, this beautiful voice would be juxtoposed with a toilet joke, the audience roaring with laughter. Her candid humour and ability to be incredibly serious about her craft, whilst also having fun with the audience is extremely refreshing.

Perhaps the most captivating moment of the show is the most surprising of all  – when she begins to sing Eminem’s classic ‘The Real Slim Shady’. With effortless cool, she pulls it off marvelously, so much so I’m sure the controversial rapper himself would approve.

Another highlight is her song ‘Are You Fucking Kidding Me? (The Facebook Song)’ which is a hit on YouTube. Just as hilarious in person, she sings of an ex-flame who wants to add her as a friend, and ‘poke’ her and tell her useless facts about himself through ‘groups’. Scarily relatable, and worth a laugh because let’s face it, we’ve all been there.

Pearls of wisdom are also given out as liberally as witty jokes and stunning melodies. “I don’t think of myself only as an entertainer, but as an educator as well,” she says to us, smiling. The audience can’t help but smile too; I find myself grinning like a school girl who’s met her high-school pop-star idol. That’s just the kind of effect Kate has on you.

Talent oozes through her music – the pretty piano verses, her sometimes-hilarious-sometimes-heartbreakingly beautiful lyrics, and everything in between. Bravo Kate, looking forward to getting my mits on the new album (out soon she revealed!)

We all know the saying “if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em”…well, the Sydney-based team at Ferknerkle Productions took it literally. They have created a unique show where you are encouraged to have your head buried in your phone, where tweeting won’t get you ridiculed, and where whatever wild dreams you tweet about, will actually come to life.

Tweatre is a magical combination of old-style theatre with no props and improvisation at its best, and the social media network Twitter. The audience is given a hashtag, and told to tweet in suggestions to the theatre group. Here’s where it gets fun – your tweets actually form the subject of the acted scenarios. Example: I simply tweeted the words ‘cake’ and ‘hatred’, and suddenly the talented crew made it come to life. Fan-freakin’ tastic. Or should I say fan-tweetin’-tastic. #dadjoke.

The four actors and MC give you guidelines for what they want you to tweet; a secret you’ve never told, a quote, an emotion and an object, and so on and so forth. Phones at the ready, the audience taps away at their screens, the tweets come up on a projector on stage in real time, and the performers spring into action.

It is truly a marvel to watch, the Ferknerkle team improvising everything in such a short time, with most of the skits given a one minute turnaround. Their scenario building and character development is incredible, and the actors are clearly blessed with wit beyond their years, delivering lines in seconds that some TV shows cannot achieve in years (*by some I mean all).

To give you a taste, the show included a dad in love with a grandmother, a man who confessed his love for musicals, a hostile cooking class teacher, and a facebook-jealous murderer. But, as they will tell you, no one show is the same, dependent completely on the audience and their tweets. Oh, the power.

The show is very intimate, held in a small building adjacent to the Maid of Magpie. Brenton, Claire, Elliott and Olivia, along with MC Lewie, deliver a very personal show with only three rows of seats for a small audience. It is as if you are privy to one of their acting classes, as you watch them take turns hopping on and off the stage in trios, duos or alone. Watch their minds tick over with ideas, and giggle at the product, their characters utterly hilarious and disturbingly relatable (that’s right, I’m talking to you Facebook-jealous murderer types!)

Do yourself a favour though and make sure you actually have Twitter installed on your phone. Contributing is half the fun. Plus, you may look less than smart if you go to a Twitter show without Twitter. Just sayin’.

All in all, this is a fantastic show to see, and one that I would highly recommend. The performances are a joy to witness, and it is a fantastic example of the collaboration between old and new, something we need to embrace. So go on, support the talented folks at Fernerkle, and get tweeting. It’s hashtag #awesome.

Cardigans, doc martins and a whole lot of drumsticks. The ultra-hipster crew from Slow Club simply oozed cool the moment they waltzed onto the stage. After making their way through the crowd with timid smiles, they jumped eagerly into song. No time for a proper soundcheck, they simply made gestures with their fingers as they played, adjusting the equipment as they went – they clearly love what they do. And so did the audience.

The british boy/girl duo, along with their gorgeous drummer and adorkable bass guitarist/saxophonist delivered an utterly joyful selection of eclectic indie folk rock, inducing a wave of smiles on crowd-faces. Their label ‘Popfrenzy Records’ describes their sound perfectly as “swooning but raucous doo-wop and soul-inspired rock.” I couldn’t have put it better myself. Seriously.

Slow Club are made up of Charles Watson, the über-cool guitarist and vocalist who looks as if he’s stepped right off Cambridge Unviersity campus, and Rebecca Taylor who seems to be a jack-of-all-trades. She switches sporadically from vocals, drumming, percussion and guitar, her long blonde hair flicking about as she floats around the stage. The pair have an almost Angus and Julia- esque feel about them – with exceptional lyrics, beautiful melodies and a wonderful musical relationship and passion.

This is something the whole band was bursting with. Passion. Something too rare these days, in my opinion; passion and a genuine love for what your do is so rewarding to see as an audience member. Watching the very down-to-earth band smile and laugh with each other, you simply couldn’t help but get that gushy, soul-quenching feeling at the pit of your stomach…you know, the one rainbows and Carebears are made of. You’ll giggle too, as they chat to the audience and each other candidly…”we fucked that bit up!”…And with stellar music too, you’ve got a win-win!

Making me feel somewhat inferior as a human being, the incredibly talented bunch flitted about the stage, each taking their turn at drumming, guitar-playing and singing. There is something magical about watching them change around, as if you are in their backyard garage studio while they practice (or ‘jam’ as I believe the muso’s would call it). Utterly glorious to watch and pure porn for the ears.

The music is almost a mash-up of fun beats the likes of Architecture in Helsinki meets Noah and the Whale, with orgasmic drumming sessions that channel Gotye, and stunning acoustic melodies akin to The Whitlams. I could go on, or I could just tell you to get the CDs. That’s exactly what I did.

Their two albums, Yeah So (2009) and Paradise (2011) have both received truck-loads of love in the UK, both equally compelling and addictive.

Slow Club are the epitome of what good music should be – something that makes more than your feet tap, and more than your lips raise a smile. It’s as good as a good wedge of chocolate cake, sunshine on your back and sand in your toes. It is food for the soul. Shakespeare once said, “if music be the food of love, play on.” I say play on, Slow Club, play on.

Heading to the old Adelaide gaol on the last day of summer, on leap day, in the dark of the night – a recipe for the ultimate creepy night out. Rain was spitting down on our faces as we made our way through the gates of the gaol, old stone walls and wrought iron gates dripping with water, like the start of a good horror movie.

Like all good horror movies, it began with a man in a waistcoat. A very well spoken man, who could only be described as a gentleman, welcomed us, and we were soon to find out he was the director, Bryce Ives. After just enough time to soak up our surroundings outside the gaol and wonder what on earth we were about to get ourselves into, we were led through a somewhat claustrophobic stone doorway, and through into the gaol exercise yard.

An entirely sensory experience, it is your taste that is initially played on, handed an intriguing glass of blood-like liquid on arrival. Sight and sound is confronted next, with candles and lanterns illuminating the path before you, and acoustic music echoing throughout the eerie space.

We suddenly found ourselves in an expansive area surrounded by towering stone walls, rain-soaked grass underfoot…the only sound was our squelchy footsteps and a lone piano, played by a man sporting a smart butler-style suit, singing, as if to himself. A few empty chairs illuminated by candles, are dotted about the place. Very peculiar; it fitted the mood perfectly.

Director Bryce introduces himself to the audience in the courtyard, instructing us to get involved and remember that the experience is up to us. And this is where touch comes in, as we are told not to be afraid to get up close and personal with the performers.

“Modern theatre is really dull,” says Bryce, “you have to tell the audience everything these days.” Chants Des Catacombs is unlike anything this reviewer has ever experienced, placing the audience directly inside the action. Bryce explains that each night is different, due to the different audiences. “By attending Chants, you are now an integral part of the work,” he says.

Not only is the experience the result of a collaboration between audience and cast, but also within the whole production team itself. Bryce describes Chants Des Catacombs as a “collaboration” both between the performers, lighting technicians, musicians and director. “You will notice there is no credited writer, designer, performer or director,” he says, “Each collaborating artist is equally integral to the development, shaping, breadth and width of this performance tonight.”

This macabre cabaret details the lives and ultimate murders of three very different women. A showgirl (Anna McDonald), a gender-bending surgeon (Laura Burzacott) and a courtesan (Anna Boulic) make up the main trio, each with their own story to tell, each in a different part of the spooky, low-lit gaol. We, the audience, follow them as they run in and out of rooms, hither and dither, singing, dancing and musing.

It is not all music and dance, and there is also a mixture of captivating monologues and exceptional theatre. This makes, at times, for a somewhat confusing viewing experience, as the cast take you on a roller coaster of emotions – passion, fear, hatred, and love, in a variety of performance genres. But like all good roller coasters, while you are perpetually scared, often confused and bewildered by the twists and turns it takes you on, you are also left with that unbeatable windswept feeling that always has you wanting more. You don’t know why, you just do.

But it is the location that really makes this show. “Spaces mean everything to me,” says Bryce, “I should have been an architect or something,” he laughs. “I specialize in ‘on location’ theatre because I hate being in spaces that haven’t been thought through – a blank canvas.” You don’t have to believe in ghosts to get the creeps in the old gaol, the ideal location for this macabre, whirlwind piece of captivating theatre. But watch Chants Des Catacombes, and you might just change your mind.

When feathered friends become ‘more than friends’…

This gloriously exotic cabaret is far from the typical image we have in our heads of love birds – young tweeny-bopper so-and-so’s that frolick about on the beach and have ‘summer loves’. No, LoveBirds is a dramatic tale of exotic birds filled with intense passion for love, lust and sex, which we can all relate to. Exiled to the darkness by the ‘real world’, the birds come to play for one night only. We, the audience, are privy to one night of pleasure; one night to be welcomed into their world, to fall in love.

Let me tell you, you will do far more than fall in love. Excuse the cliche, but this show will literally make you laugh until you fall off your chair (I did), cry for the pain of these sorrow-filled creatures, and gasp with fright at their incredible facial expressions (and other body parts!).

Walking into the tent, you are filled with a sense of nostalgia, as if you have stepped straight out of the 1920’s. From the velvet tent ceiling, to the four-piece jazz band complete with top-hats and feathers in hair, you are completely transported into another world. The stage is simple – painted black, and adorned only with sporadic bunches of green foliage. But the simplicity lingers for only a moment…

The lights are dimmed…the music stops…builds…and with a swirling of confetti in the air, the audience is suddenly whisked away into a whirlwind of sequins, feathers, gems, jewels, and glitter, glitter glitter! You are faced with four gorgeous birds (not the kind on America’s Next Top Model). You cannot take your eyes away from the utterly exquisite costumes. I know what you’re thinking, she just cranked out the word ‘exquisite’, that’s a bit much isn’t it? Let me tell you, it is the only word in the dictionary that can begin to describe these delightful creatures.

Every inch of the four cabaret artists is covered in fabrics of different textures and colours – colours I didn’t even know existed. It’s as if a rainbow had sneezed in the room and this were the result. And shiny! Talk about shiny! We’re talking blue glitter lips and sparkly green moustaches, eyelids covered in diamonds, and sequins where you never thought sequins could go! Green peacock feathers and fluffy pink feather boas seem to pop out of every orifice (you don’t even want to know where I saw feathers), the birds using them to tease the audience throughout the show.

Remove your gaze from the incredible disguises for just a moment, and you are instantly drawn to the beautiful voices of the LoveBirds. Their melodies echo throughout the tent, with a selection of tunes lamenting on their plight to find love, and keep it too.

Who said you couldn’t have nudity, dirty talk and a good take-home message all in the one show. This cabaret knocks that theory well out of the water, with pillow talk mixed with deep and meaningful messages about love – love lost, found, wanted or unwanted, threesomes, ex-lovers, loneliness…you name it! No matter where your love life is at (or not at), you’re sure to relate to one of the birds, and their musings on one of life’s great mysteries – L.O.V.E. Love.

Direct from it’s premier at Melbourne’s International Arts Festival, the show is the brainchild of the award-winning singer, dancer and cabaret artist Simone Page Jones. “I am just completely obsessed with love and extravagance,” she says. “The idea of the show is that it removes people from their daily grind.” Mission accomplished Simone. You passed, with flying colours, literally.

A mixture of song, dance and poetic speech, the show is also very interactive, the birds not afraid to peck, pash or throw a bit of leg onto the audience. But while their actions may be crazy and completely ‘in the moment’, their messages will stay with you long after the show. Here’s a taste – “What is love? Sometimes it doesn’t dot the “i” in fairytale.” Touche LoveBirds. Touche.