‘She just conjured electricity': Celebrating Divinyls legend Chrissy Amphlett
Before Madonna talked sex and sexuality on stage, a working-class girl on the other side of the globe was shocking audiences with her fierce and powerful performances.
Chrissy Amphlett was unlike anything Australians had seen when she burst on the stage in 1980 as lead singer of Divinyls. Without her it's hard to imagine Amy Taylor from Amyl & the Sniffers, or Amphlett's fellow Geelong-born rocker Adalita.
A new show opening next week called Amplified showcases the work of the late artist – Amphlett died from breast cancer in 2013, aged just 53 – as well as her extraordinary impact and legacy.
Making the work has been a wonderful process, says Sheridan Harbridge, who stars in the show, and co-created it with acclaimed director Sarah Goodes and musical director Glenn Moorhouse (Hedwig and the Angry Inch).
Trawling through YouTube and watching old performances by the Divinyls and Amphlett solo, Harbridge says there are hundreds of comments from people writing things such as 'I saw them at the Crystal Ballroom and it was the most amazing thing I've ever seen'.
'And then women saying, 'I'd never seen a woman act like that and I didn't know you could',' the actor-singer-writer says, adding that 'equally for men, they were watching something quite electric'.
'I spoke to someone who worked with her and they said, 'she just conjured electricity'.'
Raised in a Pentecostal Christian family in Gippsland, Harbridge wasn't allowed to watch shows like The Simpsons and The Golden Girls, but thankfully her mum didn't know what Rage was, so that was where she first came across Amphlett.
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Perth Now
an hour ago
- Perth Now
The old Leederville restaurant that deserves more attention
Duende has been around the block. Launched by local luminary Nic Trimboli, Perth's first Spanish tapas restaurant took over the space on an isthmus between Newcastle Street and Carr Place in Leederville previously occupied by Eminem — the much-lauded Turkish eatery, not the Detroit rapper — waaaaay back in 2003. That's so long ago the current crop of Perth food influencers were still blogging in their nappies or hitting child care for free canapes and bubbly milk when Duende served its first pimientos de padron and patatas bravas. Once considered among Perth's hottest restaurants, this joint has seen some action, and it shows. The decor is dated, menus arrive on clipboards, and the booths need new upholstery. A small fan rattled away on the bar, while daggy dance-pop blared away. Duende is Spanish for 'passion and inspiration'. At first glance, both seemed to be sorely lacking when my wife and I made a long overdue return to this Leederville mainstay for dinner on a Thursday evening. Duende tapas bar, Leederville. Credit: Supplied Duende tapas bar, Leederville Credit: Simon Collins When we walked past the chalkboards and into Duende, we were the only customers. Ay, no! By the time we left at about 8pm, only two other tables were occupied. Double ay, no! If this review achieves one thing, I hope it helps Duende return to the top of the pops. The food is banging — like, Ricky Martin's Livin' La Vida Loca banging — and the wine list has some mic-drop-worthy Spanish drops at prices that don't seem to have moved since Duende opened. Credit for the fantastic, mostly authentic, tapas goes to Indian-born chef Remya Geminiani, who grew up in Modena, Italy. The 'Italian pocket rocket', as she is described on the venue's socials, started a chef's apprenticeship when she was 14 years old, and was ducking flying frying pans in four-star hotel restaurants at 18. Chicken and chorizo paella at Duende tapas bar in Leederville. Credit: Supplied Geminiani trained and worked in kitchens across the Canary Islands, focusing on traditional techniques and Mediterranean flavours for five years before following her heart Down Under in 2016. She worked as head chef at a Melbourne cafe for four years before moving to Margaret River for a stint at Voyager Estate, where she refined her skills and built know-how around fermentation, smoking, and seasonal WA produce. While she only joined Duende in April, Geminiani has already had an impact. She's clearly a gem, and Phil Crocker, who bought the Leederville diner in 2013, did well to recruit her. Service was sharp. A lovely glass of cava and sangria, full to the brim, lobbed on the table within minutes of us plonking down on a table for four. (We had plenty of room, the waiter said.) Later we shared a brilliant bottle of Spanish wine, a Murcia-style blending monastrell and cabernet sauvignon grapes that was on special for $40. What year is it again? The padron peppers at Leederville tapas bar Duende. Credit: Supplied Duende also has signature cocktails with an Iberian twist, plus gin and tonics, spirits, and a decent roster of sherries. I remembered why I never drive home from this place. Speaking of specials, we decided to start with the chorizo de vino tino ($26), a flame-grilled fancy mini-snagger from Northbridge's Torre Butchers in red wine reduction served with charred bread. The chorizo was rich, quite gamey, and delicious. The champinones ($22), or mushrooms marinated in Pedro Ximenez sherry, were served with blue cheese and candied walnuts. A champion dish, you could really taste the PX in the mushies, which were served warm in a ceramic ramekin. A must-have dish. Gambas ajillo ($26), or prawns cooked in garlic, chilli and white wine, at Duende. Credit: Supplied Padron peppers are a staple of tapas for a good reason, and the pimiento de padron ($22) at Duende is excellent. Perhaps they could've been scorched more for that blackened, blistered skin but they were juicy and rested on a fresh herb mayonnaise with snow pea tendrils and oil — and radishes. Chef Geminiani has a thing for radishes. Where other Perth chefs overuse fried shallots, Duende's head chef popped thinly sliced radishes on almost everything bar the dessert, my sangria, and the bill. Clearly, Big Radish has got to her. After those three small plates, we ordered the chicken and chorizo paella ($22) and gambas ajillo ($26) — six delicious, well-charred prawns cooked in garlic, chilli and white wine. Another tasty winner, the small paella had as much chook and chorizo as rice. I like a bit of spice in my rice, so I asked for a hot sauce. Maybe Tabasco, if they had it. The chef whipped up a chilli sauce that was bang-on, and nearly lifted my head off. Luckily, I had some red plonk to calm my palate. The chocolate mousse at Leederville tapas bar Duende. Credit: Supplied The chocolate mousse with vanilla ice-cream and berry coulis was rich and sticky. Blackberries hid inside the smooth choccy, while more PX syrup made this a grown-up dessert. We shared a sherry drier than Hacks comedy diva Deborah Vance to really kick this home, while my wife commandeered the spoon. Daggy decor, bad dance music . . . who cares? The food rocked my socks off. I may never wear shoes again. Duende isn't the only tapas joint in Perth. It's not even the only one in Leederville. But it might be the best. To quote Eminem, the Detroit rapper, not the Turkish eatery, 'guess who's back'. Duende 662 Newcastle Street, Leederville OPEN Wednesday-Sunday, noon-late. CONTACT 9228 0123, BOOKINGS Yes THE VERDICT Hola! Plot a return to Perth's original tapas joint. New head chef Remya Geminiani has it back on track and banging with superb small dishes and great-value wines. Don't drive. 16.5/20
News.com.au
10 hours ago
- News.com.au
What it is really like to be a WAG in Australia
For years, WAG culture has been put on a pedestal in Australia. Glamorous, polished, and always front and centre. From Rebecca Judd to Jesinta Franklin, the women behind AFL stars have been splashed across the pages of Austraia's newspapers, labelled 'glamour WAGs' and packaged into a media-driven identity that has little to do with the actual reality of life inside the AFL bubble. We don't talk enough about what it's really like to be the woman behind the athlete. The public sees the polished photos, the race day outfits, the glamour. But they don't see the long-distance parenting, the invisible mental load, or the unspoken expectation that you make yourself smaller while they chase something big. I know this firsthand. I've lived it. My husband, Lachie Henderson, spent over a decade in the AFL system, playing for Brisbane, Carlton, and Geelong. While the outside world saw the polished version of AFL life, behind the scenes, I was juggling long-distance, single motherhood, and running a business full-time – without the luxury of pressing pause. I met him while raising a child as a single mum, running my swimwear label IIXIIST, and building a life on my own terms. And while I loved him - and the life we were building - I quickly learnt that being a WAG in Australia came with a playbook. One I never really wanted to follow. Navigating the WAG world AFL culture is structured, disciplined, and deeply traditional. The same applies to the social side of it. There are unspoken expectations – who sits where at the club functions, who's in the inner circle, and how present you are within the 'group'. It's not a written rulebook, but it's there. For someone like me, who was already running a brand and raising a child, the WAG world was just another ecosystem to navigate, but never fully buy into. There's a hierarchy in every WAG circle, and you know your place in it pretty quickly. I wasn't interested in competing for a seat at the table when my focus was on my business, my child, and my life outside of football. I refused to put my life on hold. A lot of WAGs centre their lives around the AFL calendar. Training schedules, interstate travel, mid-season moves. It all revolves around the game, not the individual. Lachie and I did long-distance across Brisbane, Melbourne, and Geelong, but we always made decisions as a partnership, not just around footy. There's a strange undercurrent inside the AFL bubble. It's structured. Disciplined. And socially, it's incredibly cliquey. There's no official hierarchy - but it exists. Who you sit next to at events, how involved you are with the club, whether or not you're part of 'the group.' It felt eerily like high school, just with more fake lashes and club polos. At the time, I was doing long distance between states, juggling footy schedules, running a business, and raising a baby. I didn't have the capacity (or the interest) for the politics. I wasn't there to compete for a seat at any table. My time and energy were already fully accounted for: managing a company, keeping a child alive, and building a future I wasn't willing to shelve for someone else's career. It's not that I didn't support Lachie. I did and still do. But I've always believed in staying in your own lane. My business mattered. My goals mattered. And I wasn't going to push them aside just because I married someone with a profile. There's a reason many AFL WAGs start businesses, fashion labels, or wellness brands – it's not just about career ambition, it's about having something that belongs to you. I was building IIXIIST at the time, and later The Prestwick Place, and I was always clear that my career mattered just as much as his. The culture is not for everyone WAG culture in Australia can be welcoming and supportive, but it can also be cliquey and isolating. Some women form lifelong friendships, while others feel like outsiders in an unspoken hierarchy. The biggest misconception? Being a WAG is not a job. There's no contract, no title, and yet, there's an expectation that you play a certain role – supportive, present, polished. Some thrive in that space, while others struggle to find their own identity outside of their partner's career. When Lachie retired at the end of 2021, we were finally able to live life on our own terms. We left the AFL structure behind, moved to the Gold Coast, and co-founded The Prestwick Place together. After years of working around footy schedules, training commitments, and game-day routines, we finally had full control over our time, our business, and our future. The label never fit In Australia, the term WAG carries weight. You're either glamorous, supportive, and on-brand… or you're cold, distant, and not one of the girls. Neither version ever felt like me. I've always believed women can be both. Supportive and ambitious. Present and independent. Loving and driven. I wasn't looking to be defined by my partner's job title and I wasn't about to be reduced to mine either. There are plenty of beautiful, kind, intelligent women in that world, many of whom I admire. But the label always felt limiting. It was about who we were attached to, not who we were on our own. There's no single way to be a WAG. Some women embrace it fully, enjoying the events, the media attention, and the connection to the club. Others, like me, choose to stay in their own lane and focus on what's important to them. There's no right or wrong way to do it, but there is a choice. You don't have to dress a certain way, show up to everything, or let your partner's career dictate your own. For me, WAG culture was just one chapter of my life. It didn't define me then, and it doesn't define me now. Rewriting the narrative Today, Lachie and I are married. We live on the Gold Coast. We co-run our business and we've just had our first child together - growing our family to four. Our relationship is exactly what the term implies - a partnership. Equal parts give and take. And I say that as someone who's carried everything alone before. There's a shift happening in the way people talk about relationships, especially when both people are ambitious. It doesn't have to be either/or. It just requires being intentional. You have to make space for each other's goals. Let go of what it 'should' look like. And back yourselves to figure it out together, as you go.
The Advertiser
17 hours ago
- The Advertiser
Iconic Australian migrant story returns to the stage
Stephen Nicolazzo felt like throwing away his culture as a kid but is now using it to bring an Aussie classic to the national stage. Born of Melina Marchetta's iconic 1992 book and award-winning film starring Pia Miranda, Looking for Alibrandi the stage show has embarked on a first national tour. The story follows feisty protagonist Josie Alibrandi as she navigates her final year at a prestigious Catholic girls' school in Sydney. Along the way she finds her father, falls in love and grapples with her identity as a third-generation Italian growing up in Australia. It's an experience Nicolazzo shared as the grandson of Italian migrants. In primary school, the now 38-year-old was embarrassed to pronounce Italian words his classmates struggled with. "You want to throw away your culture and your ethnicity when you're younger because of all of the pressures of being discriminated against," he told AAP. "That's a really strange feeling because you lock away a part of yourself as a result of the pressures of expectation." The lived experience of young Australians from Italian cultures has improved over the past 30 years. "But there are many other migrants who have come to this country since the book was written," Nicolazzo said. "They're experiencing the same discrimination and tensions that Josie faced." The production highlights important issues of acceptance and tolerance, and is relatable to a wide audience. Nicolazzo points to the story's universal recognition of concepts like having to deal with over-bearing family members or being spoken to in a certain way. "The people that watch it are sobbing and laughing because there's a familiarity to it that goes beyond nostalgia," he said. The show first graced Sydney and Melbourne stages in 2022 and has since undergone script changes to enrich one of Jose's love interests, John Barton. "The audience is getting the best version of the show, which is five years in the making," Nicolazzo said. Three new cast members have also joined the fold, including 23-year-old graduate Riley Warner, who plays Josie's knockabout boyfriend Jacob Cootes. The rising star is debuting in his first stage show, having met Nicolazzo as a student. "There's something about him that feels like a national audience needs to see him right away," Nicolazzo said. The show next appears in Sydney on June 11 before heading across NSW, Victoria and South Australia. Nicolazzo hopes audience members take one key message from his production. "It's about finding freedom from the shackles of a culture that doesn't want you to be a part of It," he said. "That's a hard thing to do but we can only do it by making art and talking to people." Stephen Nicolazzo felt like throwing away his culture as a kid but is now using it to bring an Aussie classic to the national stage. Born of Melina Marchetta's iconic 1992 book and award-winning film starring Pia Miranda, Looking for Alibrandi the stage show has embarked on a first national tour. The story follows feisty protagonist Josie Alibrandi as she navigates her final year at a prestigious Catholic girls' school in Sydney. Along the way she finds her father, falls in love and grapples with her identity as a third-generation Italian growing up in Australia. It's an experience Nicolazzo shared as the grandson of Italian migrants. In primary school, the now 38-year-old was embarrassed to pronounce Italian words his classmates struggled with. "You want to throw away your culture and your ethnicity when you're younger because of all of the pressures of being discriminated against," he told AAP. "That's a really strange feeling because you lock away a part of yourself as a result of the pressures of expectation." The lived experience of young Australians from Italian cultures has improved over the past 30 years. "But there are many other migrants who have come to this country since the book was written," Nicolazzo said. "They're experiencing the same discrimination and tensions that Josie faced." The production highlights important issues of acceptance and tolerance, and is relatable to a wide audience. Nicolazzo points to the story's universal recognition of concepts like having to deal with over-bearing family members or being spoken to in a certain way. "The people that watch it are sobbing and laughing because there's a familiarity to it that goes beyond nostalgia," he said. The show first graced Sydney and Melbourne stages in 2022 and has since undergone script changes to enrich one of Jose's love interests, John Barton. "The audience is getting the best version of the show, which is five years in the making," Nicolazzo said. Three new cast members have also joined the fold, including 23-year-old graduate Riley Warner, who plays Josie's knockabout boyfriend Jacob Cootes. The rising star is debuting in his first stage show, having met Nicolazzo as a student. "There's something about him that feels like a national audience needs to see him right away," Nicolazzo said. The show next appears in Sydney on June 11 before heading across NSW, Victoria and South Australia. Nicolazzo hopes audience members take one key message from his production. "It's about finding freedom from the shackles of a culture that doesn't want you to be a part of It," he said. "That's a hard thing to do but we can only do it by making art and talking to people." Stephen Nicolazzo felt like throwing away his culture as a kid but is now using it to bring an Aussie classic to the national stage. Born of Melina Marchetta's iconic 1992 book and award-winning film starring Pia Miranda, Looking for Alibrandi the stage show has embarked on a first national tour. The story follows feisty protagonist Josie Alibrandi as she navigates her final year at a prestigious Catholic girls' school in Sydney. Along the way she finds her father, falls in love and grapples with her identity as a third-generation Italian growing up in Australia. It's an experience Nicolazzo shared as the grandson of Italian migrants. In primary school, the now 38-year-old was embarrassed to pronounce Italian words his classmates struggled with. "You want to throw away your culture and your ethnicity when you're younger because of all of the pressures of being discriminated against," he told AAP. "That's a really strange feeling because you lock away a part of yourself as a result of the pressures of expectation." The lived experience of young Australians from Italian cultures has improved over the past 30 years. "But there are many other migrants who have come to this country since the book was written," Nicolazzo said. "They're experiencing the same discrimination and tensions that Josie faced." The production highlights important issues of acceptance and tolerance, and is relatable to a wide audience. Nicolazzo points to the story's universal recognition of concepts like having to deal with over-bearing family members or being spoken to in a certain way. "The people that watch it are sobbing and laughing because there's a familiarity to it that goes beyond nostalgia," he said. The show first graced Sydney and Melbourne stages in 2022 and has since undergone script changes to enrich one of Jose's love interests, John Barton. "The audience is getting the best version of the show, which is five years in the making," Nicolazzo said. Three new cast members have also joined the fold, including 23-year-old graduate Riley Warner, who plays Josie's knockabout boyfriend Jacob Cootes. The rising star is debuting in his first stage show, having met Nicolazzo as a student. "There's something about him that feels like a national audience needs to see him right away," Nicolazzo said. The show next appears in Sydney on June 11 before heading across NSW, Victoria and South Australia. Nicolazzo hopes audience members take one key message from his production. "It's about finding freedom from the shackles of a culture that doesn't want you to be a part of It," he said. "That's a hard thing to do but we can only do it by making art and talking to people." Stephen Nicolazzo felt like throwing away his culture as a kid but is now using it to bring an Aussie classic to the national stage. Born of Melina Marchetta's iconic 1992 book and award-winning film starring Pia Miranda, Looking for Alibrandi the stage show has embarked on a first national tour. The story follows feisty protagonist Josie Alibrandi as she navigates her final year at a prestigious Catholic girls' school in Sydney. Along the way she finds her father, falls in love and grapples with her identity as a third-generation Italian growing up in Australia. It's an experience Nicolazzo shared as the grandson of Italian migrants. In primary school, the now 38-year-old was embarrassed to pronounce Italian words his classmates struggled with. "You want to throw away your culture and your ethnicity when you're younger because of all of the pressures of being discriminated against," he told AAP. "That's a really strange feeling because you lock away a part of yourself as a result of the pressures of expectation." The lived experience of young Australians from Italian cultures has improved over the past 30 years. "But there are many other migrants who have come to this country since the book was written," Nicolazzo said. "They're experiencing the same discrimination and tensions that Josie faced." The production highlights important issues of acceptance and tolerance, and is relatable to a wide audience. Nicolazzo points to the story's universal recognition of concepts like having to deal with over-bearing family members or being spoken to in a certain way. "The people that watch it are sobbing and laughing because there's a familiarity to it that goes beyond nostalgia," he said. The show first graced Sydney and Melbourne stages in 2022 and has since undergone script changes to enrich one of Jose's love interests, John Barton. "The audience is getting the best version of the show, which is five years in the making," Nicolazzo said. Three new cast members have also joined the fold, including 23-year-old graduate Riley Warner, who plays Josie's knockabout boyfriend Jacob Cootes. The rising star is debuting in his first stage show, having met Nicolazzo as a student. "There's something about him that feels like a national audience needs to see him right away," Nicolazzo said. The show next appears in Sydney on June 11 before heading across NSW, Victoria and South Australia. Nicolazzo hopes audience members take one key message from his production. "It's about finding freedom from the shackles of a culture that doesn't want you to be a part of It," he said. "That's a hard thing to do but we can only do it by making art and talking to people."
