A small office above Phillimore Street
Carnival Dispatch is written in a single room above a limestone shopfront in Fremantle's West End, a short walk from the harbour cranes. The walls are covered in old playbills, the desks are older than the writers, and a jester marionette named Bartholomew supervises the bookshelf. He has never approved a single review, which we take as artistic integrity.
The Dispatch began in 2021 as a photocopied programme handed out at the Fremantle Markets, reviewing whatever free games the three of us were playing on the ferry. Readers kept asking where the next issue was, so we moved the whole production online and kept the format: acts, intervals, curtain calls, and not a single number score.