a dinn-ah!

(tt)  Mr Simon Phillips begins a series of farewells to his tenure as Artistic Director of the MTC. Last night's was a lavish dinner in the James Fairfax gallery at the Victorian Arts Centre.

When I arrived at 6.25 this lady was the only evidence of a do in sight. Not fortified in any way by courage juice I hung about waiting for social assistance in the form of my friends in the cast.

Spent the the time popping off a few pics of the exterior.

Through the iconic "fish shop" window.  (teech, we will do this one again properly when you come)

In a little balcony space we mixed and mingled with appropriately sedate accompaniment

And here is Christie Whelan with a wonderful American ex-pat who now calls Melbourne home, Pinky Watson. We became fast friends. She is a delight!

This is the main atrium of the centre. Another bash was happening under the ceiling of the Great Hall.

We walked through these rooms on our way to the nosh.

By Konrad Bazan

The sight that greeted us on entering the room. This was the 'Earnest' table.The other was the 'Bunbury'

 My setting

The booklet is the tribute programme to Simon which contains photos of him at various stages of his career and the complete script of  the play!!

A beautiful blossom...Miss Emily Barclay

The food was good and I met three really wonderful people who all were totally supportive of the MTC in generous ways and were very funny and warm and interesting.
Simon did one of his fascinating rambles, peppered with comments flung in from all directions. How refreshing the  ratbag Aussie spirit is.

And then the bombshell.  He made Toby Schmitz and Christie Whelan do their first scene from Act 1. They had no time to protest or to get too nervous . They just plunged in with such grace and ease and floored the assembly!  And in front of the Tiepolo painting of  'Cleopatra's Banquet'  the richness of Wilde's stunning dialogue was beautifully served.

 Afterwards they wanted to find Mr Phillips and strangle him. But it was a brave coup that paid off mightily

So here is the banquet from the past that looked over the one in the present

This soldier, a detail, seems to be counting the number of deposits he could make on a little flat all in the dripping pearl the Queen is about to drop into a goblet of vinegar.

And as I sat there listening to the speeches and looking at the floral centrepieces and the bow ties and the wine labels and thinking of the $1000 each that the diners had paid for their lamb chops, I was suddenly thrown back to me as a lefty collective member of the Australian Performing Group at the Pram Factory in the 70's and how I would probably have wished this whole assembly, myself included, 'quite exploded'.

But I would have eaten the chocs