‘The End of Winter’ sounds like the stuff of fairytales, something that some kind of supernatural, fantastical villain plots to do away with snow forever. But the truth is, with rapid climate change and global warming, that could well be a reality before we know it, particularly in Australia, where the people truly feel the heat, with warmer and shorter winters each year. How do we make sense of what seems to be a global catastrophe, when we as individuals feel so helpless?

Through art, it seems, as Australia’s Siren Theatre Co. believes, with their work The End of Winter making its Singapore premiere this January, as part of the M1 Singapore Fringe Festival 2025. A ‘performance essay’ that posits itself as a moving, evocative love letter to winter, the production has received acclaim and accolades such as Best Actor at the Sydney Theatre Critics Award and Sustainability Award at the Adelaide Fringe 2024. We spoke to playwright Noëlle Janaczewska, producer and director Kate Gaul, and performer Jane Phegan on the experience of putting on such a work, and the themes of loss and resilience in a world that needs it more than ever.

“When Noëlle wrote this in 2019, Australia had just experienced some of the largest bushfires in about 100 years, and these mammoth fires covered so much land mass, and really gave Australians pause for thought about how adaptable we really were, and how these fires were a result of our human activity on Earth,” says Kate. “Noëlle herself is originally from the Northern Hemisphere, where the whole idea of seasons is completely different from here in Australia, and has a lot of nostalgia for the winters of her childhood.”

“This is a story of winter written in the heat of summer, and for me, it was about searching for the winter experience again,” says Noëlle. “I started with a personal story and personal narrative, drafting out a script that was more about loss in general, and that led to me thinking about what would happen if winter no longer existed, and if it only belonged in history, in fairytales and literature, and so it was all about searching for the cold again.”

On the attitude towards climate change in Australia, all three acknowledge that there are times it can be difficult to make sense of, despite a keen awareness of its existence. “People in Australia are generally aware it’s getting warmer and drier, and how even the smallest spark from machinery could ignite a huge bushfire,” says Noëlle. “We can’t give up; we need to think of creative, ambitious ways to push past that and use the power of storytelling in whatever form it takes that isn’t didactic to give people a chance to think about it, of what the implications of no longer having winter existing would have, and what that means.”

“I think most people are enlightened about climate change, especially with the massive bushfires, and that’s prompted us to question how have we allowed these enormous tragedies to happen. We’re also concerned about climate change and how it might cause disaster like rising sea levels, and we do acknowledge it’s hard to talk about it to the population at large, and how we’re often preaching to the converted in theatre,” says Kate. “By touring it, we can reach regional and remote audiences, and we do see people affected by it. It takes on a very dream-like quality – you can see in the production photos there’s a big house that looks like it’s sinking into the stage, like an iceberg, and such design allows people to access a different facet to what Jane is saying onstage, and how we’re all losing things, in small ways and big ways, and leaves us to interpret and respond in our own ways.”

That being said, what exactly is a performance essay, and how does it differ from a more typical theatre production? “We describe it as such because it includes elements of the essay form and the theatrical monologue, in the sense that the essay form is exploring ideas and areas of concern,” says Noëlle. “It’s not a lecture; it’s more than just imparting information, it’s more of taking an idea, questioning it and thinking aloud. The theatrical monologue has elements of that, and this work combines both non-fiction and personal narrative to form what is essentially an essay onstage.”

“Noëlle’s work is very deeply poetic and very theatrical, and I think what I realised is how powerful it is at leaving room for vulnerability and theatricality, and when we performed it in Adelaide earlier this year, we did it in a tiny space, compared to usually a larger space,” says Kate. “And when you have Jane telling the story to people in this room with a very intimate kind of seating, you can see them transformed by the idea of the theatricality of the monologue. It is grand but also you see how people are all together, experiencing this in a very intimate way that really speaks to them and takes them on the journey.”

On the performance itself, Jane Phegan has by now, become very accustomed to the role and speaks on the process of preparation and being onstage. “I’ve had a great number of opportunities now to sink into this work and revisit it over and over, which is a great joy considering how Noëlle’s work is so detailed and layered with so much information,” says Jane. “Each night, there is always something fresh that hits me. There’s a part in the play that talks about the trees which were damaged in the bushfires and I think about how actually, I’ve always been a tree person, and I really start to better understand my relationship to the world around me, and how being a part of this play has altered that perspective and made me more aware of how interconnected we are.”

“As for my approach, to me it’s like any other monologue, where I focus on how Noëlle wanted to essentially take an idea for a walk, and make it as imaginative as possible, where the idea is unfolding there for me as it is for you, discovering these things and this knowledge of historical events as it leads me to these other memories and ideas that I’d have to wrestle with in the moment with me and try to discover these things together,” she adds. “It’s about talking and inviting the audience into your world, to create this imaginary space of different people, even conversation, when we’re in the room together, where we’re sharing in this resonance and discovery at the same time. It’s not always easy to connect with everyone in the room, but what I do is to try to address them, and make it feel like everyone is here with me, all riding the wave together in one strange bout of alchemy.”

The work itself isn’t a completely serious piece spitting facts about climate change or heavy emotions – Siren Theatre Co. also promises humour with interesting turns of phrases and ideas, but most of all, emphasises how there is a strong emotional thread running through the entire piece, personalising the idea of loss, and allowing each and every person to connect with it. “The title is bleak yes, but it’s also a call to action for everyone to think about this because there’s still time to make a difference and see that not all is lost. It’s very scary, but also very hopeful, and gives space to ponder these things and think and feel deeply, because that’s also the important part of coming together, and feeling that sense of shared responsibility in the theatre and questioning what’s important to us and what we might do,” says Jane. “I hope that people are left thinking about what is important to them, and with this persona speaking to them, to think about the people they’re surrounded by, and realising how important it is to find space, and a place where you feel supported by your own community.”

“I am curious to see how the Singaporean audience, who’s used to such a hot and humid environment, will respond to this play that’s about a love for winter. I’m very much looking forward to the talkback after the show and how people respond to these themes of loss and climate change, and that understanding that it affects all of us,” says Noëlle. “My goal in writing it was to let the language take you somewhere else, to explore and think about these people who went off to cold extremities of the world in Antarctica or the North Pole. It is celebrating some of that human spirit to see things and understand things, and how that endless curiosity gives us hope.”

And as for what keeps them going as artists, there are times they simply have to keep on keeping on. “I think our philosophy is to make sure we’re not churning out something for the sake of it, as long as it’s dedicated and has meaning and sparks something for you and generates some kind of passion and resonates, then it’s worthwhile doing,” says Jane. “And to be able to find people, hopefully lots, that it connects with. If it ignites sparks of joy and curiosity, then it’s a sign it’s going to resonate with someone else, and has meaning to it.”

“At Siren, we tend to work with text-based theatre. If the text is good, then it’s usually a good sign. And telling stories that matter to us, we do feel that what matters to one person should matter to someone else—it already matters to the writer after all, which allows us to make astute choices as to which pieces to bring to life,” says Kate. “Cultivating long-term relationships with writers like Noëlle and performers like Jane, you know all the ingredients are good, and we’ve long gone past the idea of aping what we enjoy onstage, where we produce originals, becoming the influence instead of the influenced, and that assures us that we’re not adding on to the growing amount of detritus there is in the world.”

“We’re definitely excited to come to Singapore, outside of our usual cultural context to present the work, especially with such an intelligent audience who I hope will be engaged, and to see the conversation we have with them after, especially showcasing this very different facet of Australian theatre,” she adds. “We’re here to present a show that’s not hopeless, because we as people aren’t hopeless either. It’s amazing how much we’ve achieved over the years, how adaptable we are as a species and how much we’ve discovered, and my only wish is that audiences come to understand that loss can and will happen, and at least consider what we choose leave behind in our wake.”

Featured Photo Credit: Lauren Orrell
All other photo credit: Clare Hawley/ Asparay Photographics

The End of Winter plays from 8th to 9th January 2025 at the Esplanade Studio Theatre. Tickets available from Book My Show

The 2025 M1 Singapore Fringe Festival will run from 8th to 19th January 2025. More information and full line-up available here

To contribute towards the Fringe Festival Fund, visit donate.necessary.org or Giving.sg.