Emma Newman discovered theatre and dance at a young age. It has been the driving force in her life that has led her to all parts of Australia. Maive McKenzie sat down to have a chat and discover Emma's life story.

I was adopted in the early 70s and had three older brothers. We started out in Melbourne, mostly growing up in the inner city, really close to the CBD.

Back then, no one lived in the CBD—it was just for business. It wasn’t until the 90s that people started living in the city. So, we weren’t in the CBD, but we were close enough that it became a big part of my life.  

We also spent a lot of time at the beach. Surfing is big in our family, and my brother still surfs down in Victoria. I guess that makes me a bit of a beach baby, too.

Being near the city also meant we were close to the theatres. My mom took me to a lot of musicals and big shows, and my aunt and uncle would come to stay with us sometimes to go to the MTC, the Melbourne Theatre Company. I’d go along with them, and that’s what got me really interested in performance.

I dabbled in it as a kid, but I was pretty nervous about it. Then in Year 11, I started getting serious roles at school. I started off with Shakespeare—performed as Ophelia from ‘Hamlet’ and Rosalind from ‘As You Like It’.

After I left school, I explored fringe theatre and dance and then got really involved at Melbourne University. What we were doing there had a real impact on the contemporary dance and theatre scene. I stayed involved and later went to the Victorian College of the Arts (VCA), where I did a postgraduate in theatre animateuring, which is all about facilitating theatre. I worked at Chamber Made Opera, a contemporary opera company, which was a great experience. I mixed in my interests in, production, arts management, and directing.

At uni, I did a lot of performing, and that’s where I started directing. But instead of directing pre-written plays like Shakespeare, I leaned toward group devising—getting a group together to explore a concept from scratch. Michael Cathcart, who is known on ABC Radio National, directed group devised theatre. He’d facilitate exercises and guide us in improvising around a topic. One time, he gave me a solo role—an article on cauliflower -I formed a character who hated cauliflower and then developed their story from there. 

In those formative years, those relationships became a big part of life. It was a time when I was free to choose my activities and really throw myself into things, building close attachments along the way. I went down to Melbourne recently to reconnect with some of those people.

I moved up here in 2001 and started working with NORPA and Ausdance NSW, developing a dance network called ‘Dance Action’; Michael Hennessy was one of the main choreographers who had a big impact on dance in the area.

This was all before Facebook, so we connected the dance community—practitioners, teachers, dancers, and choreographers—and started producing short work shows. It was great fun and really brought our dancers together, who were inspired to choreograph new work; I hope they felt supported by it.

We ran several projects developing community arts skills at different levels, mentoring young people in hip-hop, dance, and rapping. Daniella Finkenauer, an amazing salsa and hip-hop teacher, was crucial to that project, along with Jason Campbell and Rangimarie Ferguson.

I was part of an amazing duo called ‘The Two Frocks’ with Gabrielle Griffin, and we had a fabulous time with it—puppetry, dance, singing, and clown work. I'm really grateful for that experience. We even went on a puppet tour over to Perth and learned a lot from a Kyogle-based company Krinkl Theatre. We took it to Melbourne too. It was unique and very funny, and we built a big following. It’s always exciting when someone remembers ‘The Two Frocks’.

(The Two Frocks on stage)

We had a great working relationship. We started off in a group of four, which then became three, and eventually, just Gabrielle and I. Gabrielle and I had been working with improvisation for a long time. I started classes pretty much as soon as I got into town, and since we lived near each other, we connected early on. About four years later, we started the duo. 

Consistency is really important in creativity, especially when it comes to classes or workshops. It's that weekly commitment, like in any sport. You need that regular training for learning together. Over time, you start forming a group, and that's what happens. Consistent attendance brings people together in those groups.

So, the next stage was when I met my husband. I had a long-term connection with Jyllie Jackson; we lived together, and I was involved in Lantern Parade for years. She got all her housemates involved to perform in the fiery finale show. That’s where I met Shaun at a Rollerworld fog night, performing together - he was on stilts! I felt very privileged to be such a central part of that show, and I’m still involved: it’s such a special part of Lismore. 

So then Shaun and I went to the Northern Territory, and we lived there for a while. We did some FIFO work—flying in, flying out—focused on youth work in small Aboriginal communities in the desert. These communities were extremely small, with only about 200 to 500 people, and very isolated. Our job was to provide busy activities for young people during the holidays. This included craft, video and song-making, movie nights, disco nights, and basketball tournaments.

We started in 2008 and lived in Tennant Creek from 2011 until 2017. We have two dogs from Alpurrurulum before moving to Tennant Creek. Living in the NT was fascinating and challenging; I learned a lot about Aboriginal people and culture, as well as the barriers and political and social issues they face.

(Emma and her daughter on a Sunday walk at Tenant Creek in 2015)

I ended up working in community development with the Red Cross, collaborating with Aboriginal people to develop a community garden and shed on the main street; there’s still a shed there now. The sad part of the project is that it’s hard to sustain initiatives because people come and go, and it’s difficult to leave that behind, but it was a really important and valuable time.

I started to understand how the NT works and how you can't grasp it from the outside. There's a language difference, and you can't assume the same level of connection you might have with people from the coast. It’s like going to another country; your sense of understanding the world is different.

You can’t assume that your way of living is their way. People often assume common ground, but that’s not the case. Different parts of this nation literally are different Aboriginal countries: it’s important to respect those differences.

We came back here after the 2017 flood and settled down because we had a little girl and wanted to raise her here with more support and connection to family. 

I coordinated the Women's Festival, which has been fantastic. Being involved in organising the festival and listening to what people want has really informed my experience. I believe that my background in the arts has always been about letting people express what’s important to them, and I encourage them to come forward.

I’m still interested in theatre and work with Sprung Dance Theatre, which focuses on people with disabilities. I have facilitated workshops since 2020 and helped with shows. It’s a really important organisation that has national standing and is recognised in the Australian disability arts scene.

Over the years, I’ve worked on a couple of projects with people with disabilities, including one with a young man in a wheelchair in Tennant Creek. We did a duo together, and I believe I brought skills to the area that hadn’t been available before, particularly in terms of working with wheelchairs and movement for people with disabilities.

I've focused on how to communicate with people in the simplest and clearest way so they can engage and mirror that expression themselves. What we really want is for people to feel secure, centred, and grounded so they can let go and express themselves fully. 

I believe in the healing power of the arts: but it keeps you healthy and serves as a way of recovery.

In performance, my favourite words are catharsis and pathos. Catharsis is that moment when you release all your energy or emotions on stage or in a dance class, while pathos is the understanding you create in the audience, allowing them to grasp an experience outside of themselves. It fosters a greater understanding and empathy between communities of what's going on in the world.

It's not just about gathering; we all feel a bit worried that devices have separated us. A friend mentioned the other day that she doesn't go to people's homes for morning and afternoon tea or dinner as much anymore. I asked her why that was. While COVID has had an impact, it seems a lot of catching up is done through social media and devices. We are underestimating the need for face-to-face contact, to be in the same room together.

Currently, I'm working at Resilient Lismore, where we hold gatherings because we find it essential. We know everyone is still in the process of recovery, and as workers, we continuously listen to others’ stories about the flood and their recovery journeys. There's a concept called vicarious trauma, which can manifest as a subtle, quiet sadness that workers feel from hearing these stories daily. To counteract this, we focus on keeping things joyful and supportive, which is vital for all recovery and social services workers. 

We have a role in creating positive experiences by simply gathering and doing good things together. We’re currently offering workshops at Resilient Lismore, teaching small carpentry skills to support people in building their abilities. 

I’m also involved with the Lismore Toy Library, a lovely organisation that supports families. We’re looking forward to coming back stronger next year once the main library is up and running again after the flood.

Neurodivergence has been a particular challenge for our family, and we have taken on the challenge of becoming well-informed and aware of it. As it gains more visibility in popular media, we hope the stigma associated with it might diminish.

We encourage neurodiverse-affirming approaches. We’re always learning and trying to navigate the best path forward, which might not align with traditional norms or expectations. It’s quite an unfolding mystery and can be quite confronting. Understanding neurodivergence means we need to discover alternative approaches to support people in ways that suit their unique needs.

One of the biggest lessons I've learned from my career is that what you think is best for an individual or group may not always be the case. In our transactional culture, where it's often “you do this for me, and I do this for you,” we can overlook the real needs of others. Just because you believe something is necessary doesn't mean it aligns with what they actually require. This capitalist mindset doesn't account for the ecological complexities of the world and the various players involved. 

Theatre and dance have taught me that unexpected ideas and insights can emerge, emphasising the importance of listening and observing. 

One of the key insights I took away from my time in Tennant Creek came from a woman in Alice Springs. She pointed out that those in Tennant Creek: if they wanted something, they had to do it themselves; no one else would. This reflects a broader narrative about community development and the trust it requires.

I’m committed to contributing to our community’s growth and understanding our unique needs. I feel there's still a lack of resources, and infrastructure is still being restored in this area, I'm particularly concerned about young people and ensuring they have enough positive activities to engage with here. It’s vital that we continue to support their ideas and follow their initiatives.