Australian Women Entertainers (AWE) Speech given at a gathering on 18 Feb 2020
“I’d like to begin by acknowledging the Traditional Owners of the land on which we are meeting. I pay my respects to their Elders, past and present, and the Aboriginal Elders of other communities who may be here today. Thank you for having me here today.
Hello everyone my name is Petra Kalive, I am Associate Director at Melbourne Theatre Company. I have been asked to speak today about my career. It feels weird to be at the age now where I can do that. But it has been a long and winding road to arrive where I currently find myself – I am very proud to be contributing in such a meaningful way, telling stories to such a large audience – being part of the conversation about the stories we tell and how we choose to tell them. I guess to sum up how I have forged a path in an industry that is brutal and competitive is through storytelling and polite persistence.
I didn’t begin my professional career as a theatre director – in fact, if you had asked my 17-year-old self studying a Science Degree, I would have told you that although passionate about the arts I’ll probably become a dietician. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. Although the performing arts and acting - had always been a passion – no one thought I should head into the arts – not my family, nor my careers counselor who said it should be a hobby or even my best friend who was like “you’re good, but you’re just like too normal to work in the arts – no offence”.
I completed my science degree and auditioned for the drama schools – at that stage – it was acting that I wanted to do. I didn’t get in.
I went and studied with the youth theatre company in South Yarra, took a gap year, auditioned again. Didn’t get in. But I got some good feedback. Which kept me going.
Did some amateur and community theatre. Travelled to China and Europe. Worked as an audio-transcriptionist at a hospital. Auditioned again. Was shortlisted for NIDA and VCA and was accepted into the Western Australian Academy of Performing Arts. I had a great time at drama school. I was an excellent student and I came out thinking I could tackle anything – I knew now, that my hunch about myself was true I was actually good at this.
It was a rude shock to find myself in an industry that didn’t actually care how good I was. They couldn’t figure out how to cast me. At that time - I wasn’t white enough for the white roles nor “other” enough for the ‘other’ roles. I always got down to the last two – and they almost always went with the other actor. When I did land a couple of good television gigs and stage roles, I quickly got bored. Playing the mute girlfriend – or the weeping widow, the fish & chip shop girl or the prostitute. Where were the good roles for women? Where were the good roles for women who looked different? (AND SERIOUSLY, I wasn’t that different). This was not what I had spent 3 intense years at acting school to do. AND why didn’t the casting around me reflect the people I was catching the train with? It was infuriating.
It was at that stage that I decided to delve into new work. Again no one thought this a good idea – I had decided to adapt a novel into a play – and a friend said – “like they’ll ever give YOU the rights.” Well, they did. And the show was a hit and it toured to Adelaide. From that Maryanne Lynch the then Dramaturg at Malthouse gave me a gig as her assistant and Red Stitch asked me to work alongside Gary Abrahams as their dramaturg in residence and St Martins asked me to work with their Performers Ensemble. None of it was acting. Which is what I was trained to do. Then, I was accepted into an improvisational theatre company as a performer (finally some acting!).
It was the combination of the work with an improvisational company, the teaching and the new text-based theatre that I was involved in that really began to shape the director I’ve become. Although at the time I didn’t think I was a director. I was an actor and a dramaturg and a sometimes writer. And the writing and the dramaturgy was all done so I could act. This is what I was born to do. Right?
At first, it was just simpler for me to direct the shows I was ‘dramaturging’ – because the VCA Directors course wasn’t a thing then and it was really difficult to find emerging directors who were interested in new work. You have to remember this was a time of white sets, with lots of glass and the ‘in thing’ was adaptation of classics. During this time I became really clear about my values – and these informed the work that I chose to do and who I chose to work with. I wasn’t being paid enough to work if I didn’t find of value.
I wanted to be involved in new work, from new voices, with casts that were representative of the community I lived in – I wanted to work with people who didn’t bully – who got what it was to work collaboratively – and at the time, this was really really really unfashionable. Auteur directors were in. Directors of new work were not. But I didn’t care. Well, I did. But what else was I gonna do? The thought of adapting a Checkhov made me want to fork my eyes out.
The improvisational theatre company I worked for would take the audience’s stories and use them as the script for the improvisation. I learnt so much in that company about storytelling, connecting with the audience, how to think fast on your feet, what a good story is and the potential impact it has. I learnt how story and the stories that we choose to tell shape our community. It’s not instant or immediately ground-breaking – they ripple, and permeate culture --- and much more importantly the stories that we choose to tell ourselves in our own heads or our colleagues create culture. We did a long term project for a major Australian organisation and they needed to undergo a cultural revolution to remain viable – they were a service industry whose service record was plummeting – the culture changed by this improvisational company reflecting back the stories that the people in the company were telling about themselves.
They saw that they were habitually retelling a historical narrative that may be true but wasn’t helpful to the current conversation. By focusing on what was working, being grateful for what they did have, focusing on small goals that were achievable the stories that they began to tell about themselves changed and so too did their culture.
We can get trapped into thinking that we have no power over our current situation – but I believe story is the most powerful tool we have. It is why through the ups and downs I have stayed the course. I know that the stories that we tell have the potential to influence those around us and it ripples out. It isn’t necessarily instant and at the time it doesn’t feel ground-breaking – but we can improve our world and change the status quo and change the conversation by paying attention to these stories – those we are told and those we tell ourselves.
It was quiet persistence and dedication to stories that needed to be told – stories from a diversity of perspectives that has opened doors for someone like me. From the inside, I can tell you it has felt like a slow and meandering trudge through thick mud and I have often fallen, not wanted to go on, and wondered if the dietitian route wouldn’t have had an easier run.
It has been those that have advocated for me along the way that has been truly helpful.
I wouldn’t have got the gig at St Martins – had Anthony Crowley not seen a director in me. Nor would I have not got the gig at Red Stitch had not Sam Strong tapped me on the shoulder and said you should go for this. I wouldn’t have been at Malthouse without Maryanne thinking I had something to offer new work and something to learn from being inside a major arts organisation. I wouldn’t have been confident enough to speak my mind had not Melanie Beddie, Jane Woollard, Kim Durban, Leticia Caceres and so many women in the Australian Women Directors Alliance told me my voice was valuable. Had that not happened I wouldn’t have been brazen enough to make meetings with Artistic Directors and Associate Directors and writers and actors to tell them what I valued and what kind of shows I wanted to direct. I would never have had the chutzpah to apply for the Artistic Director position at Union House Theatre at Melbourne University. Which was the most incredible and challenging 5 years. I would not be where I am today without their advocacy. It’s only retrospectively that I can acknowledge their contribution to my career. And there are many I haven’t named. Because at the time, I was all head down and bum up trying to figure out who I was and what I was doing. But I’m taking a moment now to publicly acknowledge their support and guidance. I was too young and egotistical to thank them then. And having just spent 5 years in an environment where I was that person for many young people – I get why they did it. They were responding to my persistence, my talent, my willingness to take advice, to learn, to step into things and to weather the hard times. They saw something in me that I couldn’t see – didn’t see – so blinded was I by the goal I thought I wanted. Someone asked me today if I was to give my younger self some advice what would it be? And I thought that might be a good place to end today.
· Don’t be so hard on yourself
· It won’t be perfect.
· You think you’re working hard now. You have no fucking idea. Suck it up.
· Brag. Not in an arrogant way – but acknowledge your successes – because truth be told there won’t be many and you need these to hold onto in the dark times – and truth be told there will be lots of those. Or at least it will feel that way. People on the outside won’t think those times are that dark and looking back you won’t think they’re that dark either. Because you have no idea what dark is. Suck it up.
· Find your tribe. This will take you a while. But keep going. Your people are out there. There are lots of people who are not your people. That’s ok. You will find your tribe. Eventually. After everyone else has found theirs. But it will be worth the wait.
· Take the hand the dark. Those people see your potential when you can’t. Listen to them. Sometimes they only whisper.
· On whispering, listen to that. That thought that comes from your gut in the middle of a rehearsal or that wafting idea that floats across your mind as you read a script or that slap in the face when you’re auditioning an actor. Trust the whisper. She’s really smart.
· Let what’s important to you lead you – this might mean that you step away for a time and do something else – or have kids, or try another career. That’s ok. If you’re driven by your values and not by your ego – you will be happier. Your ego will never be satisfied – it will always want more, think it deserves more. And your happiness is worth more than pushing yourself into a depression because you want to be noticed. You are enough. You don’t have to prove anything.
· And finally petra – suck it up. No one died on an operating table. You make theatre. It’s called a play for a reason. Have fun.