Latest news with #StephenPage


The Guardian
13-06-2025
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
Stephen Page: ‘Am I old? Am I not old? Can I still create?'
Stephen Page stands wrapped in scarf and beanie against the morning winter chill at Sydney's Marrinawi (big canoe) cove, at the northern end of Barangaroo reserve. 'This mouth of water, one of the biggest in the world, it's an operatic landscape and it was so inspirational,' he says. As he looks past the sculpted sandstone across the harbour, the acclaimed choreographer recollects the Eora nation stories that prompted some of his best-known dance works during his 31 years as artistic director of the Sydney-based Bangarra Dance Theatre. There was, for instance, Patyegarang, in 2014, about the Cammeraygal teenager who taught the English astronomer William Dawes her language; and Bennelong, in 2017, about the Wangal man who developed a close bond with the New South Wales governor Arthur Phillip but died addicted to alcohol. Set to turn 60 this December, Page is relaxed these days, and makes an excellent walking companion as we stroll past the Sydney red gums and coastal banksias. Having offered a hearty hug upon our meeting, he leans in along this waterside walk named Wulugul (kingfish), laughing often. By contrast, in his final years before departing Bangarra in 2022, he drove himself hard. Leaving Bangarra was 'bittersweet', he recalls, 'because I was dealing with the grieving of stepping down from that'. But while he was saying goodbye to the company he had devoted most of his adult life to, he was also pushing through grief after the sudden death in 2016 of his older brother David Page, Bangarra's longtime music director and composer. Three Page brothers had each been a key part of the company: Stephen, David and Russell, a charismatic dancer who died by suicide in 2002, aged 34. By the time Stephen stepped away, he was the last of the brothers left at Bangarra, even as he built a clan of dancers around him. It magnified his sense of loss. 'David and Russell would always be quite vivid images and visions in my memory. David's music is always in our mind.' Page talks readily about David, with an awe. It all comes back to when they were kids, the solidarity of growing up with little money in a family of 12 children who loved pop culture and musicals, putting on concerts in their back yard in the working-class Brisbane suburb of Mount Gravatt. The enigmatic David, who had a brief career as the child pop star Little Davey Page, would turn the rotary clothesline into a merry-go-round, and film them all with a Super8 camera. The children would dress up as the Jackson Five and perform to neighbours on their laundry roof. It was their playground, and their training ground. Page recalls that the family bond was deeper and stronger than any material absence: 'When there was struggling, when there was no food, when they couldn't pay bills, it was about telling stories and humour and performance. David and I and Russell, we digested that creative instinct to carry it through into our professional lives.' Page laughs at the memory of some of the play the three brothers had in rehearsing together over the years. They had found a creative haven together, he says. 'We would talk about the spirit of story constantly, and it was always about the emotional [aspects] and the psychology for us.' It took Page more than a year after leaving Bangarra to feel like his old self. 'I had time to think. I had to see my good old therapist, because I was like, 'What's going on?' They're like, 'Stephen, you're grieving, you're leaving something after 31 years'.' Page is far from retired, 'creating better than I ever have', he reflects, as we pass hard-hatted workers drilling at the Cutaway, the large below-ground sandstone venue being turned into a gallery and events hall (but not an Indigenous cultural centre as earlier mooted). Page says David's 'spirit and energy has inspired' his newest works. He feels 'cleansed' through these latest stories. His first major post-Bangarra work is Baleen Moondjan, a story of grief, love and kinship, which opened the 2024 Adelaide festival on Glenelg beach, and will now be adapted for performance on a barge for the Brisbane festival this September. Page says his late mother, Doreen, would have loved this story being staged close to where she raised her family. The song and dance cycle will feature giant replica whale bones, a totem figure for Doreen's Nunukul/Ngugi saltwater maternal line from Minjerribah (Stradbroke Island). His mother had been forbidden by her English/Irish father from acknowledging her Aboriginality: he told her instead to say she was Indian. The whale story is based on cultural knowledge passed on by Doreen's older sister, Auntie Joyce, after their own mother died. 'I wanted to use the metaphor of the whale as a sense of empowerment and strength that sits within my mother's matriarchal kinship system,' Page says. 'It's about continuing the spirit of stories. I thought, 'Mum, I'm going to give you a gift, and David, your spirit is going to help me create Baleen Moondjan'.' It follows Page's final work for Bangarra, Wudjang: Not the Past, in 2022, an ode to his late father, Roy, a Munaldjali bushman from the Yugambeh nation, who during his childhood was forbidden from speaking his language. Page's parents nonetheless both became great storytellers who instilled a respect for Country in their large brood. Roy died in 2010 and Doreen in 2018. Both productions honouring their parents essentially began with David's legacy: a three-minute recording uncovered in the late composer's office based on a song Roy had given him in his own Yugambeh language, which he spoke on his deathbed, as well as notations written in Jandai, the traditional language of their mother. Page in the past has spoken of the challenge of living in two worlds, of being denied a traditional language because he has come from 'a forbidden generation, an assimilated generation'. Page once recalled Roy using the term 'whispering language' because Stephen's grandmother could only whisper their language to Roy at night. Loss is profound throughout the family, thus dance and what Page calls his 'blackfella operas' became a medicine, a means of reconnection. 'Mum's last years, she didn't have quality of life, she didn't speak,' Page recalls. 'She was at Georgina Hostel, a First Nations old age home. She had dementia, Alzheimer's. 'The night before David passed, late at night, she was wailing, making these noises, and the nurses told my sister the next day. They were like, 'We haven't heard her talk or make a sound for 18 months'. I think she knew [David was passing away], and that always stayed with me.' Page's renewal and cleansing has been aided by his son, actor and writer Hunter Page-Lochard, 32, who founded the production company Djali House, for which father and son are billed as co-directors, although Page insists Hunter is his 'boss'. One gets the impression he enjoys working with his son so much because it reminds him of the creative energy of working with David and Russell: wherever the urban mob is, that's his creative home. The pair have four development projects on their slate, including an imminent adaptation of David's one-man autobiographical play, Page 8, into a narrative feature film with the working title of Songman. 'It's been really beautiful to work with Hunter, and also to see the first [full-length feature] story that we birth through Djali House is our story, through the lens of David's life,' says Page. The generations continue to unfold. Page, who also has a stepdaughter, Tanika, glows when asked about Page-Lochard's two daughters, Mila, 6, and Evara, 3. 'It just makes this crazy world and life worth living for,' he says of becoming a grandfather. 'The combination of that, going through and reflecting the Bangarra chapter of my life, and then finding a sacred stability, of feeling recharged and reawakened for the next chapter. 'You go, am I old? Am I not old? Can I still create? But the reason Hunter started Djali House is we have imagination, we have creativity, we have vision. We love stories. Walking with Page, there's a sense he is seizing the moment, surveying the Country and water before us for the next story, plugging into youthful energy. But that was how it always was with the big Page mob. 'I've always started with a blank canvas for my work. David would jump on, and with our creative clan we'd just paint the story and bring it to life.' Baleen Moondjan is at Queen's Wharf, Brisbane festival, September 18-21

ABC News
02-05-2025
- ABC News
Australia's complex patchwork of surrogacy laws is leaving some children in legal limbo
A child born to an overseas commercial surrogate is in legal limbo, with experts estimating hundreds of other Australian children are also living with uncertain parentage. In January, a court refused to grant a parenting order to a The case has shone a spotlight on Australia's complex patchwork of surrogacy laws, which differ across the country, and the push for law reform. Photo shows Close up shot of arms holding a small child, whose bare leg and foot are visible. A Brisbane couple could face prosecution after they admitted to using a commercial surrogacy service to have a baby abroad. Federal Circuit and Family Court Justice Catherine Carew ordered documents in the Brisbane couple's case be referred to Queensland's Office of the Director of Public Prosecutions (DPP) to determine whether charges should be laid. Her decision followed depositions showing the Brisbane couple had entered into a commercial surrogacy agreement, paying a company about $140,000, which resulted in the baby boy's birth overseas last year. The Queensland Police Service has confirmed it is making enquiries. What is commercial surrogacy? Commercial surrogacy is where a surrogate is "paid more than their reasonable expenses", such as a fee or reward, to carry someone else's child. The practice is illegal in all Australian states and territories for domestic surrogacy, with Queensland, NSW and the ACT also making it a crime for residents to pay surrogates abroad. The offence in Queensland attracts a penalty of up to three years' jail. Altruistic surrogacy — where a surrogate's expenses can be paid but the pregnancy cannot be used for personal profit — is legal in Australia. ( Pexels: Lazaro Rodriguez Jr ) An Australian government website says commercial surrogacy has been banned to "protect the rights of each of the people involved in a surrogacy arrangement". Concerns around the arrangements include the exploitation of women, and the legal rights and citizenship of children born through surrogacy. However, altruistic surrogacy — where a surrogate's expenses can be paid but the pregnancy cannot be used for personal profit — is legal in Australia. Expenses can include the costs of medical treatment; travel costs, such as fuel and parking fees, life insurance; loss of income for time they need to take off for appointments during the pregnancy and birth; and allied health treatments, such as massage, and pre-natal supplements. How common is overseas surrogacy? Surrogacy lawyer Stephen Page said more than 3,300 Australian children had been born to surrogates abroad, with "hundreds" having uncertain parentage in Australia. "What we know by the numbers is that for every child born in Australia through surrogacy, about three or four are born overseas," he said. Stephen Page says he's been advocating for legal reform for more than a decade. ( ABC News: Mark Leonardi ) What does this mean for children born to an overseas surrogate? According to the federal government website, "legal parentage is usually not recognised in Australia for parents who commission a child under a commercial surrogacy arrangement". "This means by law the surrogate will remain the legal parent of the child," the website says. Photo shows Asian-American woman in hospital bed, holding newborn baby wearing pink beanie and blanket. The practice of surrogacy has been around since biblical times, and today it's a multi-billion-dollar industry. But is it ethical? Accredited Family Law Specialist and Surrogacy Australia president Sarah Bevan said parentage orders were not available for Queensland-based parents who turn to international commercial surrogacy. "Without this order being made … there is indeed a form of legal limbo for the child," Ms Bevan said. In the case of the Brisbane couple, an application for a parenting order was made to the court after the baby was born, despite the fact that commercial surrogacy is illegal in Queensland. Surrogacy Australia board member Sam Everingham said many other couples avoided the courts, creating an "underclass" of children, born to overseas surrogates, who do not have a legal parent in Australia. Legal parentage is not usually recognised in Australia for parents who "commission a child under a commercial surrogacy arrangement". ( ) "It does create a real or potential problem for these children," he said. "Officially, these kids are supposed to have a legal parent signing off consents for hospital admissions and for school." At the same time, he said the Commonwealth government was "happy to process citizenship and passports for foreign surrogacy births". In a statement, the Department of Foreign Affairs and Trade said it could not comment on individual cases. What's the push for reform? Mr Page has been advocating for surrogacy law reform in Australia for more than a decade. Photo shows Two men stand on either side of a pregnant woman holding her belly. An increasing number of women are putting their hand up to become surrogate mothers. He said state laws covering overseas surrogacy "cannot be enforced and therefore should be repealed". To his knowledge, Mr Page said no-one in Australia had been successfully prosecuted for overseas commercial surrogacy. That's despite at least three other Australian cases where judges had referred couples to prosecutors. "It makes a mockery of the law," Mr Page said. He's calling for uniform surrogacy laws across the country, suggesting surrogates should be compensated. In the case of the Brisbane couple, their overseas surrogate was not employed at the time and was the primary carer for her own three children. "The surrogate does not have a spouse or partner and is a sole parent," the court judgement said. Advocates are calling for uniform surrogacy laws across Australia. ( Unsplash/Aditya Romansa ) Because the couple engaged an overseas commercial surrogacy agency to "make all the necessary arrangements" for the birth of the baby, Justice Carew said "there is no evidence of what payment or other benefits the surrogate received for her part in the surrogate arrangement". Mr Page believes women should be compensated for carrying someone else's child. "Everyone else is — the doctor, the lawyer, the embryologist, the nurses, the counsellor. But not the woman at the middle of it all taking the risk," he said. "The idea that a woman will take on the potential risk of death, and if she's not a family member or friend, will willingly put her hand up and be a surrogate, I think is fanciful." Are the laws being reviewed? Australian surrogacy laws are subject to a federal inquiry. ( ABC News: Demi Lynch ) The federal government has asked the Australian Law Reform Commission (ALRC) to conduct an inquiry into Australian surrogacy laws. The ALRC final report is due in mid-2026.