There was tension in the air, a tingling static of pre-curtain nerves. The troupe, poised in the wings, fussed over costumes, adjusted a pleat or two, and then braced themselves. The curtain rose, there was a roar of applause, and they swept onto the stage. The leader, Peg Hewett, resplendent in silk cloak and top hat, came forward to take the microphone.
“Welcome to the show,” she said. “We aim to give the stereotyped view of the older woman a good sharp kick in the nether regions!”
The large audience of pensioners and health workers gave a cheer as the guitarist struck a chord and the group launched into the first number.
“The daily paper tells that we are old and gray,” they sang. “The telly never shows us in any other way, but we’re active, proactive, doing our own thing, productive, reactive, listen to our voices sing.”
The Older Women’s Network Theatre Group, known as OWN by its large following, was doing its third show that month to a packed house in a Sydney suburb.
Of the eight actresses on stage, three were over 70, and the guitarist Berenice Lynch had first come to fame as a rhythm player nearly half a century before. Yet the cabaret, written and composed by the performers, is a potent cocktail of skits, songs and cutting satire that challenges the way older women are treated in Australian society.
After the show, as group members packed up props and began loading an old van, there was an atmosphere of irreverent mischief. They declined any offer of help, and only when the last instrument was stowed, did we sit on the on the steps of the stage for some tea and biscuits.
“OWN started up in 1988, Australia’s bicentennial year,” said Peg Hewett, 70. `We were so angry at the way that women had been left out of Australian history that we wrote a show called `Herstory’ and we performed it on the lawns in front of Parliament House in Canberra. One song, called `Mrs. Cellophane,’ was about the plight of older women here who are so often made to feel as if they are invisible. It was a huge success and The Canberra Times published a story on their front page entitled `Age is not a disease.’ Since then we’ve never looked back.”
For the past 11 years OWN has performed for government conferences, health workshops and to groups of pensioners all over New South Wales. The theater group’s material, written from experience, is vivid and pulls no punches.
“We are so often told in the press that the old are a burden,” Hewett said, “and we just aren’t prepared to take it.”
There are no sacred cows as far as OWN is concerned. That afternoon, the group lampooned the government of Prime Minister John Howard for its plans to privatize the telephone industry, cut public transport and reduce health spending–three vital areas for cash-strapped pensioners.
One sketch in particular produced howls of laughter from the audience when an avaricious and lazy Dr. Careless, played by Hewett, nonchalantly prescribed tranquilizers by the bucket-load, or attempted to lure his patients into expensive cosmetic surgery as a remedy for the implacable inroads of age.
“So many of us are patronized when we visit the doctor,” she said. “What we want to do is to junk the idea that all women over 60 should be sitting at home in a rocking chair knitting socks for Cecil!”
The skit was the most appreciated of the afternoon, with shouts of “Good on yer” echoing from the audience as the slothful doctor received his comeuppance in the form of redoubtable Mrs. Everywoman, played by Lucy Porter, who at 64 is the youngster of the group.
“That’s because everyone in this room has met Dr. Careless at one time or other. Maybe next time they do,” Porter said. “He might just have to pay more attention!”
Of the nine regular members of the group, only two had theater experience, but most belonged to women’s groups and political movements previously.
Dorothy Cox, 72, had been a mild-mannered country librarian, until Germaine Greer’s book “The Female Eunuch” came into her library. “I was radicalized overnight. I put up posters for free abortion in the library and provoked a huge stir in the little town where I lived,” she said. “As soon as I could, I came to Sydney to join a women’s group, and when I retired I joined OWN. It is so wonderful now. We all get such a feeling of solidarity working together and so much support and warmth from our audiences.”
Isolation is a big problem for the old everywhere, and Australia, with more than 2 million (11 percent of its population) over the age of 65, is no exception.
“We try to make older people realize they are not alone and to realize that their problems are shared by many others,” said Porter.
Porter initially took care of bookkeeping and administration for the group and yet within three months has become a performer and writer.
“I and Peg recently wrote a song about the unmentionables of old age.”
“Bereavement and loneliness?” she was asked. “No. Wind and water,” she replied with a laugh. The song graphically spells out the embarrassing disaster of incontinence, but warns women that exercise and diet can often provide a cure and that surgery is not always necessary.
“This song tells of our own experience,” said Merle Highet, 72, who had been a dancer in her youth. “And the feedback has been fantastic. So many older women suffer from this and are ashamed to talk about it. When they see us literally making a song and dance about it, they gain courage and determination to try and solve it themselves.”
In the early days, OWN received grants from the government, but now the group is self-supporting, charging for performances only what they feel that the audience can afford to pay. Last year they embarked on their first country tour, traveling 1,200 miles through the outback of New South Wales on public transport and in an old ambulance.
“We traveled hundreds of kilometers each day, and it was so hot,” said Hewett. “Yet we were treated like rock stars–the church halls were packed, whole families came, including the dogs. We did six shows in four days, slept wherever we could find a bed. It was an amazing experience.”
“The response was fantastic,” Merle said of the group’s reception in deeply conservative rural areas. “In fact we were deluged afterwards by requests from farmers’ wives to advise on setting up their own theater groups.”
OWN now frequently performs at universities and colleges, giving shows to trainee nurses and doctors who one day will be dealing with older people.
“The young so often have no idea what older people are like,” said June Goss, 65, a former journalist. “There’s one song I sing which has the refrain that I won’t go into a nursing home because I’d have to give up sex and that’s my favorite occupation. It always gets a reaction. After one performance a young nurse asked us in all seriousness: `You mean you still do it at your age?’ ” She roared with laughter. “I said, `Of course we do!’ “
As the group was getting ready to leave, Hewett was asked what was coming up next. There was no hesitation.
“We want to get in contact with young theater groups working in Sydney and do a co-production. We have always,” she said with a smile, “got to think of the future.”
