Why we do what we do
 
I fell in love with live theatre — specifically, traditional English panto — when I was just three. My mother took me to see the legendary Jenny Howard in Aladdin at Melbourne's Tivoli Theatre. I remember thinking, as we made our way up the seemingly endless stairs to "the gods" (the upper circle) that we were destined to never get there, but I was totally enchanted by the experience that awaited us. (I also remember the promotions before and after the show for new singing sensation, Shirley Bassey. Funny what you recall, isn't it?)

Widow Twanky (a fat, bald man in a wig that kept falling off) was a wonderful panto Dame and Jenny Howard as the principal boy seemed perfectly logical. The scenery and costumes were a visual feast, and the script was engrossing. I was hooked!

In ensuing years we saw Sinbad the Sailor and a host of other panto productions at Melbourne's excellent theatres, and I lived for the day when I could see the next show. I remember being fascinated by an open air production of A Midsummer Night's Dream in the park during the annual Shakespeare Festival when we moved to Swan Hill.

There's a magic about traditional theatre — especially panto — that's lacking in a lot of contemporary theatre, especially more experimental productions. (Don't misunderstand me — I love all forms of live theatre, including experimental and street theatre).

In the mid-1970s, when I began writing my own shows, kids at school were exposed mostly to travelling productions by drama students or recent graduates on limited budgets. So, naturally, the productions tended to be spartan — no lighting, not a lot in the way of scenery and costumes — the emphasis was on creativity rather than spectacle. It bothered me that the high cost of traditional theatre seemed to spell its demise.

I took Marnie and Josh to several children's productions in Melbourne. These were full-on traditional productions, but with a big difference to the shows that I'd been raised on... they were written and directed by television people.

I noticed a few things about these shows.

When the curtain opened on a new scene, the young audience would be spellbound — for all of 2-3 minutes. But the dialogue and plot would be beyond the grasp of the pre-schoolers, who'd begin to chatter, asking what was happening. Before long, the older kids couldn't hear over the littlies. And, because the audience interaction with the plot development and characters was non-existent (they were written to be watched and listened-to, like television programs), my own children quickly became bored and, before long, they refused to go to any more of these otherwise excellent productions.

So when it came time to write my own shows, I made some conscious decisions.

I wrote them on three distinct levels:

• Pre-schoolers — whose attention spans are about 3 minutes — could follow the plot on a purely visual level because of the static, multi-part scenery, with the use of lighting and positioning to effect scenery changes, and a change of scenery, plot or characters every few minutes. I combined the best of traditional and experimental theatre to make the production visually appealing and to enhance the plot.
   
• 5 to 12 year olds (Primary School) — could follow the dialogue easily, and were captivated by the plot development, music and characters, as well as the constant involvement of the audience and interaction with the characters on stage (who also moved into the audience at times).
   
• Teenagers and adults — could enjoy the irony, the double entendres and adult humour that escaped the younger kids.

I wrote songs that were an intrinsic and natural part of the storyline. No big, spectacular production numbers that stopped the show and the flow. Music was catchy and memorable and lyrics were couched in language that kids could understand and remember. (And the words were all printed in the programs.)

Production values were high — scenery, costumes, make-up, props, lighting were all of a thoroughly professional standard, with special effects and surprises to enhance the total theatrical experience.

The consensus of our audiences, co-production partners, schools and critics over the years since 1975 have been consistently positive, and have recognised these facets of our productions.

Perhaps the best acclaim, however, is the letters we receive, often months after a season has closed, thanking us for the experience that their children enjoyed — and to tell us that the kids are still re-enacting the stories and inventing their own shows.

That, for me, is the ultimate compliment.

Lynne grew up on live theatre. Her mother, the late Eileen Ragg, was one of Australia's leading character actresses, producers and directors of the 1930s and 1940s. She was instrumental in launching the careers of many of Australia's finest actors of the period, including Peter Finch, Jack Watling and Frank Thring.

With that kind of heritage, it's hardly surprising that Lynne has had a lifelong fascination with the stage. As a teacher and mother, however, her motivation has been to share the joy of theatre — and the magical transformations it can bring about in children, especially those who may be socially disadvantaged. Her greatest satisfaction has been in seeing these children accepted by other children who, in the past, had often ignored or ostracised them.

It's about making a difference. That's why we do what we do.