Who said poetry was dead?
IT IS not just the onset of suitably spring weather that’s different, the town has shifted mood, too. At North Melbourne late Sunday morning queues for a visual exploration of Leonardo da Vinci’s The Last Supper weave out to Queensberry Street. Inside, and after the show, the audience gathers in groups, fingers pointing out newly discovered detail and Leonardo’s compositional genius, until finally they are prompted to leave. Nearby, that local symbol of popular culture, the Arden Street Oval, lies abandoned. Its principal sporting obsession having passed for the year, Melbourne now seems intent on exploring other dimensions of itself. It has been a difficult year. Street violence and charges of racism have smeared what Premier John Brumby insists is Melbourne’s brand, and what just about everyone else thinks is its reputation. Maybe it is time to move on. As if to emphasise that, the surprise hit of this year’s Melbourne International Arts Festival, which began at the weekend, is Eleme
