A couple of moons ago, I went to the theatre to watch Michelle Perera, a Sri Lankan artist who has been performing on stage in Melbourne for years, and her co-star, Sarah Fitzgerald, play two versions of one person. I recognised far too much of myself in both.
But first confession time: I am still very new to this theatre thing. Before this, I could count my visits on one hand and still have fingers to spare. Not because I don’t want to go. I was never really exposed to it.
Then I heard about The Supposed To Be, and something in me went, oh. I need to see this one.
It was written by Chenturan Aran, a Sri Lankan Tamil Australian playwright, journalist and screenwriter, and staged at Footscray Community Arts as part of RISING.
The premise: what if you could clone yourself and let the clone live the life you gave up? Kavitha (Michelle Perera) is the original, a tired corporate executive who once wanted to act. Kaye (Sarah Fitzgerald) is the clone, an OnlyFans star and the lead of a soap called Bondi Brown. So yes. A migrant story, with sci-fi and OnlyFans folded through it.
I went in expecting to be entertained. I did not expect to be caught out. But sitting there, watching Michelle play both Kavitha and her mother, Kamala, opposite Sarah’s Kaye, I kept seeing snippets of my own life. My words and questions to my Amma, in different phrasing, at different times, on different topics, but always with food in the background. The Supposed To Be stayed with me long after the lights came up.
A reminder that representation (of people, of stories, of culture) matters so much. In the way it goes to work on a story that got wired into me early: that I am an outsider, that I don’t belong, and more importantly, that I don’t deserve. Sitting in that room, watching a South Asian cast and creative team take up all of the space, said otherwise. The story isn’t just a story on the stage; it’s a memory of our own lives.
So I did the brave thing and asked Michelle for an informal culture chat. She said yes, and then she was extremely generous with it. Enjoy!
As a brown woman, I found The Supposed To Be oh-so-relatable. Kavitha being pushed away from acting and into a respectable career hit close to home, and I hope the show keeps growing. What has it meant to you to play her, and were there moments that felt a little too familiar?
Kavitha/Kamala was a gift of a character! This is the first time I have got to play someone of my own heritage on stage in Australia. Chenturan Aran wrote her as a homage to his mother and sisters, but he was generous enough to listen to me talk about my own mother and my relationship with her, and so the character of Kavitha/Kamala has been imbued by all our realities.
My mother, Celine, unlike Kamala, was very nurturing of my talents and supportive of my own ambitions, and she stage-mothered my confidence to such a healthy degree that it buoys me to this day. But like Kamala, she sometimes had a very specific way of communicating with me, which wouldn’t hold up very well against societal scrutiny today. I lost my mother to cancer when I was 22. She was 49. I have now outlived her. And like Kavitha, there are so many things I wish I could tell her. Things I now better understand about her.
Playing this character has allowed me, in some ways, to embody her, to resurrect her, and in doing so, be at peace with the loss of her. It is one of the most personal experiences I am likely to ever have on stage.
The play tells a migrant story that most people would reach for nostalgia to tell. You were born and raised in Sri Lanka before making Australia home. Is there a memory from your own migration that has stayed with you?
I remember not wanting to leave Sri Lanka, initially. I worked as a radio news journalist and broadcaster in the mid to late ’90s, when the civil conflict there was really showing off, as well as performing extensively in theatre. I was busy, successful and happy. But after marriage, I chose to follow my partner to Australia, vowing to treat “starting over” like a grand adventure.
I remember sitting on the floor in our first rental with about 15 cardboard boxes holding my book collection, which I had refused to leave behind. We had no furniture and some clothing, but I had my books. And in the quiet of that evening, I knew that I really didn’t need much to build a home. I still have the same books, and have since added a few hundred more to the collection.
Still in The Supposed To Be universe: if you had a clone of your own, what kind of life would she lead?
I need to preface this by saying that I would not willingly advocate for a clone, as I am very content with the trajectory of my life so far. But if I were to have a clone thrust upon me, I would love for her to have a nomadic spirit, unencumbered by societal commitments, with her days spent travelling the world, exploring locations so off the beaten track that they would leave Marco Polo flummoxed.
In On the Couch with Michelle Perera, you mentioned you’d taken up exploring more on foot. Is there a spot you stumbled on during one of those walks that has become a favourite?
I love my little jaunts, especially in the Dandenongs. I came across the Ferntree Gully Quarry Reserve lake last year and absolutely love the place. Turns out no body of water is safe with me. It’s deceptively nestled within a very suburban neighbourhood, and especially in summer, it’s a great spot for a swim, a laugh or a nap.
What does day-to-day life look like for Michelle Perera, the artist?
My daily life includes a full-time corporate job, which gives me the financial freedom to feed my soul outside of it. When I am working on a play, I am either rehearsing during the day and working remotely during my breaks, or heading to rehearsal after work. And some days go even later, because I am catching up on completing self-tape auditions that needed to be submitted yesterday! It must be said, my agent is the most patient on the planet.
When I’m not rehearsing, I make time to see a lot of theatre, as I am on the Green Room judging panel for Theatre Companies, and my Saturday afternoons are invested in producing and presenting an arts-related radio show, Community, on 3MDR, a community radio station based in Upwey. It’s a lot, but it’s a blessing to get to do what I love.
What do you like to do on your days off?
I used to love getting into Facebook spats with complete strangers over politics, but I’ve mellowed, so now I prioritise more Austen-esque pursuits like reading, long walks and conversation. I also make no apologies for sleeping late. The body needs it, I’m told.
I love company, but I also like my own company, and some days off are spent without an agenda. That, in itself, is quite satisfying.
This one’s purely for my own benefit: your favourite Sri Lankan restaurant in Melbourne, and exactly what I should order there?
Sri Lankan food has always had its moment in Melbourne. Upali’s in Glen Waverley, I have a soft spot for, and not just because Upali is the gold standard for Sri Lankan uncle names.
Start with a wood apple juice, then lamprais (rice cooked in meat stock with a meat curry, one or two vegetable curries, brinjal and seeni sambol with a boiled egg, all wrapped up in a banana leaf and baked in an oven), and top it off with watalappan (coconut custard dessert).
A carnival for your taste buds, and you won’t be hungry for days. You’re welcome.
When you go back to Sri Lanka, what three things can we always find in your suitcase coming home?
Sri Lankans love cheese, or maybe it’s just my brother, so lots of cheese. Plenty of chocolate for my niece and nephew, because I want them to like me. And my Sri Lankan identity (ID) card from 25 years ago. Not sure why I still have it. I’d hazard a guess and say excessive sentimentality.
Another question with a personal agenda. I’m off to Sri Lanka in a few weeks, and I’d love some hidden-gem recommendations from you. What should I do, see or eat that most first-time travellers and non-locals miss?
Firstly, may I commend you on your excellent taste in travel destinations?
An absolute must: climb Pidurangala rock before the crack of dawn to experience a magical sunrise over Sigiriya. For a sensory overload of a different kind, brave the chaos of the Pettah market, or take a ride in a tuk-tuk, or better yet, see if you can maintain your composure while travelling (standing) in a CTB bus. Drink a thambili (king coconut) you bought off a street vendor, and ideally get invited to a meal at the home of a local family. The food will be faultless, the warmth unparalleled, and the hosts will hold you hostage until they have determined that you have eaten enough.
What’s one Sri Lankan tradition you’re especially fond of and still uphold today?
Trying to shame people into eating more at the dinner table. It’s in our DNA. Our shame game is top-notch.
I recently picked up cooking and love feeding my friends, Indonesian, Indian, or a mash-up of the two. I think cooking for someone, or being cooked for, is a high act of love. Do you cook Sri Lankan food? If so, what’s your go-to?
I am clearly a bad Sri Lankan who loves no one, because my lack of any culinary prowess has made cooking my least favourite thing to do.
However, this year I was determined to deal with this inadequacy, and I am happy to say I have finally made peace with my stove. My adult children turning up asking for dinner is an indication that I’m doing better than expected. I am partial to cooking the spicy meat curry trifecta: lamb, pork, and chicken.
What does a life well lived look like for Michelle Perera?
I embrace the idea of experiencing most things at least once, whether it’s the physical sensation of parachuting, the emotional high of a standing ovation, or the vacuum left in the heart after the loss of a last living parent. I hope I have the good fortune of lying on my deathbed someday and, in my mind’s eye, surveying the landscape that has been my life and seeing hills and valleys, never just plateaus. The highest of highs and the lowest of lows, and not regretting any of it.
To have lived well is to have felt it all.
If the sky were the limit, what would your next project be?
If the sky were the limit? I’d love to play the bipolar mother, Diana Goodman, in a non-musical adaptation of Next to Normal, for those of us who love musicals but are found wanting in the vocal department.
What are your current obsessions these days?
I am a self-proclaimed true crime aficionado and have been devouring a slew of new Netflix true crime documentaries. I’m equally obsessed with The Gilded Age (the American Downton Abbey). Julian Fellowes is head writer for both, and he, like the shows, never disappoints. Also, I don’t have a sweet tooth, but I do have an unhealthy obsession with a Perera and Sons Swiss roll (available at any self-respecting Sri Lankan grocery store), and more recently, I have decided that having a never-ending supply is non-negotiable.
And last one: a Sri Lankan artist, in any form, you admire and are inspired by. What is it about their work that moves you?
M.I.A. (Mathangi “Maya” Arulpragasam) is a Sri Lankan Tamil/English rapper. She and her family fled Sri Lanka due to the ethnic conflict, and she isn’t shy about expressing her feelings about who she believes is the villain of the piece. I don’t agree with her politics, but I really like her music. Boundary pushing, button pushing.
She makes a fine subject for the “love the art, not the artist” conversation. Music culture is often saturated with conformity, so I like that she speaks to her experience through her work, however disagreeable it might make her appear. Also, her beats slap.
Thank you, Michelle (@mich_on_impossible). It was a privilege to watch you live, and honestly, an even bigger one to read these answers. I have gone back to a few of them more than once. I’ll be following your artistic journey from here, gladly and loudly.
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Wow when did you do this ? Great post , also I see similarities in passion between you two