Invisible Opera

Wander along the Esplanade, through the Scarborough Night Markets, to grab your headphones and sit watching the glistening waves crashing into the beach, waiting for the Invisible Opera.

Indeed, the Opera is invisible since we are facing an empty “stage” of wood-chipped lawn surrounded by people taking selfies with the sunset, and crowds milling around the food stalls.

“Scarborough Fair” is our very apt introductory background music and occasionally, by coincidence, people are wandering along, in time to the music.

The recorded voice of writer and creator Sophia Brous begins poetically observing common tableaux of beach life - kissing couples, skateboarding teens, picnicking families with pink prams and a man walking by with a pizza box.

A bit like a “Big Sister is watching you”, the voice mentions scenarios that are lacking, “needs less seagulls”, “I want more dogs” and seemingly the pulsing scene changes.

We realise the “stage” is the Esplanade walkway and the performers are the anonymous beachgoers.

Sophia Brous has been artist in residence or curator for various festivals in New York, Melbourne, France and Adelaide, performing her spoken word happenings accompanied by modern electronica, reminding me a little of Laurie Anderson.

Small moments of joy are achieved when what we are hearing overlaps with what we are seeing, and we begin seeking out the people and situations mentioned in our headphones - the “magic eye” printed skirt; the vegemite cap; the young couple filming themselves dancing.

Gradually, it seems too much of a coincidence that a woman is walking past with a bright yellow Tweety Bird balloon, just as the Voice is mentioning a yellow canary and quotes the famous line, “I tought I taw a Putty Tat!”

How much of what we are seeing is by design and how much is improvised?

Perhaps Ms Brous is watching us from a drone camera that occasionally hovers by.

As the sun goes down and more obvious theatrical scenarios occur, a line is blurred between scripted sightings, people-watching and planned performance.

A flash mob of dancers (community group, Urban With Polina) are suddenly in sync.

A trio of totem tennis players set up on the wood chips and a man in a swan suit busks just off the walkway (performance artists Lara Thoms and Samara Hersch are credited.)

When “Big Sister” tells us to stand up and walk down the board walk with our headphones glowing in the dark, people start watching us, and our roles are cleverly flipped.

Using the “silent disco” headphones is the perfect technology for such a public space.

This is a fun, informal kind of performance street-art that generates individual memories of nostalgic beach visits.

When the narration ends, and we return our headphones, we blend into the crowd at the Night Market and continue our people-watching, this time with our own silent narration in our heads.

Jane Keehn

Images: Miles Noel Studio