Under Skin

Show Date: 26th July 2026, reviewed by Danielle Aquilina, Zesty Productions ★★★★

Shelley Eder, Jack Tineapple, Lukas Lore and Adele Mammone

When spoken word meets chaotic jazz, the world shares a collective in breath. As we are welcomed into the world of Under Skin, created and produced by local Darwin wordsmith Sophie Benkemoun, we hear the caress of the kit, flute and double bass of the Jazz Trio, with the warm vocal stylings of our producer herself. Sophie’s lyrical collaboration with our on-stage band allow a strong, and sensual introduction to the show. 

Flying in is hoop aerialist Shelley Eder, Sophie’s spoken words in song together with the full rumble of the band created a striking combination to the already enthralled audience. We find the musical stylings of Jack Tinapple (flute, saxophone and vocals), Lukas Lore (drum kit and bongos), and Adele Mammone (double bass). Our trio, clearly sharing a strong relationship with one another’s instruments to combine improvised jazz with just the right about of dissonance. The jazzy blues allow the shape of Eder’s contortion to stun the audience into appreciation, as the lyrics from Benkemoun caress and flow over the ensemble aligning with the Eder’s snake-like spins. 

Our MC, none other than local comedian Danielle Andrews, snaps us into a new world with direct address and audience polling about the Darwin Fringe Festival. “I can see the Fringe spirit is in your heart” she claims as the audience whoop and cheer for what is to come. A festival that allows artists to takes risks on stage and share pieces of their soul. Andrews riffs with the band who play back to fit the balance of smooth, yet playful improvised jazz that she busts a quick move to and educates the audience on how to claim your space on the dancefloor. Dance, being her chosen medium for self expression which sets the tone for the journey Under Skin. 

Our first spoken word artist to take us on their journey is Clare Bizley with her ominous exploration of lumps, bumps and excess bits of humanity. She reflects on her mortality with charming humour after finding a strange lump; “I write my own eulogy… someone has to”, expressing “I’ve been rehearsing my own mortality for years”. The band respond with a moody trilling on flute, and plucking of the double bass which sets a playful blending with Bizley’s journey through the inevitable. 

Second of our storytellers is Brian Devlin who brings a dreamy and contemplative feel with his personal memories of “windswept companionship” and the “mandala words of translucent perfection”. It is clear to see the joy in which he writes and the chosen language in his narrative style. The flute and bongos alternate with saxophone in a playful to and fro as the rhythm fills Devlin’s body we see him relax further into the story of his time in the Territory exploring and learning shared language, understanding and connection of the Yolŋu people. 

With the return of our aerialist now of flypole, her graceful movements also showcase raw strength with her ability to keep the flypole vertical all while contorting around in dynamic shapes as she reacts in an almost improvised way to the response of the band. Followed by the crooning of Tinapple and the suave reappearance of Benkemoun their rendition of a Sinatra classic (I’ve Got You Under My Skin). 

Melanie Mununggurr shares new work while “swelling with resistance” in reference to their question of fluidity and identity around gender, personal and maternal. The pace and deep resonance of the kit paired with harmonica and double bass sings in compliment to Mununggurr’s words and they have a strong unspoken conducting of the band. It is playful and exploratory, until the band hold moments of silence to highlight key messaging of embracing identity and self and the challenges of presenting it externally. 

Which brings us to our producer herself, in a final showcase of spoken word mixed with lyrical poem, Sophie Benkemoun is our last poet. While we can hear her begin, it is a shame to have the band’s levels so high that there is a slight disconnect with her words and their musicality. Both would be stunning independent of one another, but I would love to have had a bit more of a moment to hear and connect with our poet. There is nothing quite like the detailing of someone’s soul paired with the resounding impact of silence. However, I found beauty in the phrase “growing in my skin, stitching myself in” as a direct influence to the shows concept to truly highlight the intended journey.

I left feeling contemplative, warm and reflective and will continue to develop introspection and look under my own skin.