In the near future, a highly-coveted up-and-coming contemporary artist hides in a gallery hosting a collection of his work. He is waiting for a wealthy art dealer to come and spirit his works away, taking them underground where the rich and powerful are moving to escape the rising temperatures. He is hoping that the art dealer will make room for him alongside his art, to save him from the heat. And he has invited a woman to wait with him, in the hope that she will come with him, too.
But as time passes, the woman begins to doubt that anyone is coming back for them or his art, despite his insistence that the works are priceless. As she grows acclimatised to the air-conditioned gallery, more comfortable with questioning the price tags and the unspoken rule of ‘do not touch’, his means of assessing value – of art, of life, of choices – becomes dangerously clear.
A short, quietly simmering two-hander, Dawn Chorus in A-Minor explores how the power structures that currently define our personal, professional and political relationships might survive and thrive in the coming climate catastrophe.
Originally written as part of 'Disparate Scenes For Millennial Dreams', produced at the Meat Market Stables, Melbourne and supported by the SBW Foundation.