It was my dad who first introduced me to the works of Lewis Carroll. He loved him. He would recite great chunks of text about Alice's adventures. He was especially fond of the Walrus and the Carpenter and the Jabberwocky in particular. It makes me smile to think about how happy these rhymes would make him. As such, I've always felt a great deal of affection for the crazy tales that are Alice, even though it's a bit too out there for more normal taste. Indeed I sometimes think Carroll should follow his own advice "begin at the beginning and go on till you come to the end; then stop." That suggests something quite straight forward and linear. Alice is anything but. And so translating it for the stage and making sense of the "stuff and nonsense" is no easy task. But today I went down the rabbit hole with Alice at the Brisbane Powerhouse and it was an exciting journey. It was bright, colourful and zany. For a piece of children's theatre I have to say it looked beautiful. I couldn't help but think it would have received the Barry Hetherington seal of approval.