“My first performance when I was five years old as a fairy with tulle wings made out of wire coat hangers with silver sequins along the edges. I was convinced I was the best dancer in the world, but then I turned six and realised my mistake.”
Nicky Marr is a woman of many talents. She's a trained dancer who has worked as an aerial artist, and has received acclaim for her writing, receiving a writing Fellowship at Varuna. She is now turning her multifaceted abilities to the world of comedic performance with Little Dances, a monologue about the secret dances found in everyday life.
“I wanted to increase my profile as a writer so I decided to do a dance show,” says Marr, with a little bit of charming irony. A dance-heavy monologue performance, after all, isn't the sort of thing that one would normally expect to attend during MICF. That said, the unexpected seems to be Marr's favourite calling card. When asked how she is marrying the disparate worlds of dance and comedy in her show, she quips, “By making sure I bump into the furniture and forget my lines.”
Marr is interested in comedic writing as she feels it fits her disposition better than drama. “I'm not naturally cheerful enough to write drama so I'll keep working on the comedy,” she says. “I've been trying to write jokes on purpose since I realised I'm too old to become an astronaut.”
Her favourite memory of dance is also one of her first. Asked about a memory of dance that she treasures, Marr responds, “My first performance when I was five years old as a fairy with tulle wings made out of wire coat hangers with silver sequins along the edges. I was convinced I was the best dancer in the world, but then I turned six and realised my mistake.” While the “best in the world” is always something of an elusive title (for any of us, at anything), Marr has certainly carved an intriguing career out of one of the most difficult art forms – her stint at Strange Fruit, an aerial dance company, was particularly exhilarating.
As for Marr's favourite dance to do these days? “The dance that I do in my lounge room,” she responds. This seems to be the essence of Little Dances – that we're always dancing, even when we don't expect to be or didn't plan on it. As Marr asks, “Why do we move our body around for no other reason than to move our body around?” It's this secret of dance that she seeks to unpack in Little Dances, and if you're looking for a break from the basic stand-up tradition during this Comedy Festival, this just might be your show.