EDEN
EDEN, Siren Theatre Co at The Substation, Qtopia, 7-18 April 2026. Photography by Natalia Ladyko: above - Karrine Kanaan; below Kanaan and Lara Lightfoot
Siren Theatre’s Kate Gaul is a unique presence in Sydney theatre: an independent powerhouse, a freelance director of theatre and opera; an astute collaborator with playwrights, and, in this instance, she’s taken on and triumphed with the most difficult theatrical balancing act of all: writer-director. The result is Eden, a multi-faceted 50-minute gem, and an exquisite evocation of place and time, seen through the eyes of two young women.
Kit and Dan (Karrine Kanaan and Lara Lightfoot) are teenage besties growing up in small town northern Tasmania. In remarkable performances, directed by Gaul and vocally coached by Rosalind Nugent, the two bring to life not only the girls, but also their long-suffering mums, Tony, the owner of Poseidon Pizza, a mob of crotch-fondling Year 9 bullies, the grumpy bus driver, a cop, a sleazy PE teacher, and the town and the river.
It’s simplicity itself until it isn’t – much like small town life – where nothing happens, especially in the eyes of the young, but where the undercurrents of adult secrets tug at innocence. Where your mother has a nasty bruise on her face where she bumped into a cupboard. Where the servo is social central, and the river symbolises all that’s serene – and dangerous.
Gaul’s writing is mesmerising as the narrative is batted back and forth between irrepressible Kit and Dan in seamless, lyrical sentences and short passages. Their flawless ease with the demands of the piece is key to its hold on the audience, and must be remarked on as the staging has been entirely reconfigured after last month’s run in a traverse space at the Adelaide Fringe.
Another element of change since that 5-star premiere season is a soundscape by Nate Edmondson. He worked often and brilliantly with Gaul and Siren before moving to New York and achieving even greater success. For Eden, the sound of plangent, tinkling acoustic guitar and strings is the river itself. Always in the background of the town’s everyday, feeding into the Derwent and, as Kit says, it “…moves quietly, almost secretively, its course worn into the earth before anyone thought to name it.” Then Dan continues: “And the ground remembers where water once stood.” Somehow, Edmondson’s composition evokes the sound and feeling of the ancient watercourse – virtually unnoticed but always there.
Eden is no rural idyll, however. There are hints of melancholy, and the decay of economic downturn is almost tangible in the air of the appropriately grungy Substation. Kit and Dan are fuelled by two realisations: that the sensation each feels when they clasp hands must be explored, and that their lives cannot be contained in this town of permanently closed shops and dying farms. Dan is restless, and her eyes see beyond the near horizon of their valley. As Kit says, with wonder, of Dan, “There’s something in her she keeps tucked away. I don’t ask. I figure if it wants to surface, it will.”
When it does, it promises momentous change. There’s no one catalyst for the impulse to go, although their witnessing from the school bus the discovery of a woman’s body on the riverbank shakes the foundations. But already it’s been made obliquely obvious that beyond the valley is Devonport, the ferry and the world beyond. Kit and Dan have to leave before their spirits become as parched as the summer landscape, and neither wants to end up like their mothers: trapped by fear and circumstance.
According to Gaul, there is still work to be done on Eden, as finances dictate. Yet there’s nothing half-baked or unresolved about this short, sharp jewel of poetic prose and character. Nevertheless, there are tantalising possibilities and unanswered questions that could be explored and further coloured without damage to what already exists. As it is, Gaul has created an outstanding portrait of a town, its people, and of two girls coming into their maturity and desires. It’s by turns funny and discomfiting, always enthralling, and it will take its place as a classic of mod Oz theatre. Don’t miss it. Recommended without reservation.
