By Jennifer Beasley.
An immersive sound performance that uncovers the actions and secrets of late-night callers.
An old, dialup telephone. A tidy small circular table, topped with a discrete light, and a minimal switchboard. One single, solitary chair. The set-up echoed throughout the silent room as we each take our seats and begin the journey via The Nightline.
Conceived and directed by Rosyln Oates, who won a Green Room Award for Technical Achievement and is a well lauded for her intimate, documentary-led performances, and ARIA Award sound artist Bob Scott, The Nightline has collected phone calls from across Melbourne during the hours of midnight and six am early this year.
The marvellous Katia Molino is The Nightline Concierge, our silent guide for the night once we are led up three flights of stairs at the rear of The Malthouse Theatre into The Bagging Room. A lift assists those unable to take the stairs.
We take our seats, in what appears to be an intimate table setting. I sit near the middle of the room, opposite a stranger. We face each other, but there is no connection, only the phone handset that everyone picks up. Then we listen, in the muted light, to the stories whispered in the dead of night.
I won’t go into detail about what is said, although the woman speaking in the void is discussing that her ‘beautiful mum’ died yesterday. I could barely contain my tears. My mother is dying, and I am no longer the voyeur, I am now connected to this voice, as I sit frozen, actively listening to her pain and loss.
The switchboard provides about seven other lines to switch out if it becomes too much. I rarely chop and change. I listen to a man holding his phone up to the rain, and then the external soundscape swells around me and I am immersed inside a storm. Our lights flash, various colours cut through and the concierge is loping through the rows, flashlight in hand. There is static on the line and crosses wires allow ghost voices to insert themselves. A countdown of various times the calls happened – 12:30am, 4:45am- occurs. When the phone call ends in a persistent dial tone, my attention turns to the other voyeurs. Those that stay the course, trying to maintain a connection, and those that hang up the hand piece. There is a lot to be learnt by observing, and the other patrons are unwittingly part of this social commentary on loneliness, insomnia and the human quest for connection.
I am surprised that not all the calls are secrets. A young dad, revelling in the joy of his newborn, a lonely old man spinning his tall tales. The music swings from subtle to intense, a pure audio joy as street noises break through, the wail of a child and I look up and see the person opposite me, her face wet with tears. I hold my breath, then close my eyes.
It ends with the callers sending good wishes and love. You are not alone, they all say. We are here.
Beautiful and heartfelt, this thirty-five minute experience into human connection is gorgeously crafted, and it’s message of love and hope uplifted everyone.
Not to be missed. An outstanding concept and performance.
The Nightline is playing at Malthouse until 29th August 2026.
Image: Simon Fazio
