By Chenoah Eljan
MZAZA: The Birth and Death of Stars is the Pauline Maudy show, with guest appearance by Greta Kelly. The two have been collaborating since 2004 on the music, and since 2020 on the production company, that bring this show to Melbourne Fringe Festival. The other, exceptionally talented, sessional musicians brought in to support Maudy garner so little thought from the show’s creator they are neither named on the “band” website nor in the Fringe Festival listing. Which is truly a shame, because the music is magic – an eclectic mix of instruments and genres that are rarely combined but which bring life and energy to every muscle, bone and tendon in the listener’s body.
This show is all about the music. It’s music you want to experience with a stiff drink in hand, a big burly man and a wide open dance floor. It’s music to play at weddings, and funerals, and on portable speakers at impromptu bush dance parties. It’s music for campfires, and for gondola rides, and for exploring old buildings. It’s music for listening to in bitterly cold air with your eyes closed, or dripping with sweat on a moonlit beach. It is music so full of life, it feels a curse to be forced to sit still in uncomfortable wooden foldout chairs and just… watch.
Maudy’s performance is rehearsed and somewhat forced. She too would probably appreciate a stiff drink and a burly man throwing her off balance from time to time. Kelly does her best to bring this energy, playing both the role of the stiff drink and the burly man. It feels out of place, and somewhat awkward, but whilst Maudy enjoys the audience, Kelly enjoys the music. Kelly is a talented musician, she plays both violin and shah keman, a type of kamancheh persian fiddle. Afterwards, several audience members can be heard remarking about this beautiful unknown instrument as they leave the room. One thing is certain: Melbourne wants more shah keman.
The show is divided into “Chapters”, punctuated with spoken word poetry by Maudy and a digital screen showing images credited to Finnish animator Laura Matikainen. It is no criticism of Matikainen to say that in a show full of music that is meant to be felt in the body, this simplistic and repetitive imagery distracts rather than adds.
The Birth and Death of Stars is a reminder that sometimes the best thing you can do for extraordinary music is get out of its way. MZAZA hasn’t quite learned that lesson yet, but the music is strong enough to survive the production’s well-meaning interference.
Go for the music. Stand at the back of the room. Close your eyes, and let your body experience MZAZA: The Birth and Death of the Stars from the inside out.
