I have only recently set up an internet connection at my place, and as that connection is about as fast as a sloth moving through a jungle canopy, it is safe to say that I don't know a great deal about the mysterious online world known as Second Life.

When I heard that the National Portrait Gallery would be launching its new exhibition Doppelganger within Second Life I was even more baffled, but fortunately Gillian Raymond, the exhibition's curator and NPG Web Manager, was on hand to shed some light on this virtual phenomenon.

Raymond was initially drawn to Second Life when it was launched in 2003. Like many of us, she'd always been fascinated by the idea of virtual realities, just like those seen in cult-classic movies such as The Matrix.

"Second Life is an online 3D virtual environment accessed by creating an account and downloading a free viewer to your computer," Raymond explains, keeping things nice and simple for me. "By creating an 'avatar', a 3D digital version of yourself, you can take on the appearance of a new person; a different sex, a different age or even an animal.  Once you have built your avatar you can walk, fly or teleport to islands created by other users and use text or voice chat to communicate with the other 'residents'."

The residents that Raymond refers to are an ever-growing pool of other users from all over the world. Over 16 million accounts have been registered to date, with more than 65,000 users online at one time! The residents are responsible for forming the communities within Second Life which make up a big part of the experience. Raymond admits, "I think to really get into Second Life you have to find a community to become a part of - it's a bit like Canberra - you have to know the good places to go!"

I am surprised to learn that the arts, including music, theatre, and visual art, already make up a large part of these communities. There are over 2000 'museums' in which art can be viewed, virtual exhibition openings for artists to network with avatar audiences, and many Second Life artists even sell work online. "There is a very strong artistic community working in Second Life who are using the full potential of the online environment to produce unique forms of art, much more than just reproductions of real-life works of art - why would you go to Second Life to see bad reproductions of the Mona Lisa?" Raymond quips.

The artists invited by the NPG to be involved in Doppelganger are certainly doing more than that. Gazira Babeli (Italy), Andrew Burrell (Sydney), Cao Fei (China), Patrick Lichty (USA) as well as Adam Nash, Christopher Dodds and Justin Clemens (Melbourne) are all practising digital artists in both the real and virtual world. They all jumped at the opportunity to work with the National Portrait Gallery to simultaneously push the boundaries of both portraits and galleries. Digital artworks within the exhibition investigate subjects dealing with beauty, illusion, self-image and the ever fascinating concept of cloning.

Although this is the second online exhibition to be launched by the NPG, it is the first time the gallery has used Second Life, and the first instance in which an Australian institution has curated an exhibition within it. In this alternate reality, the National Portrait Gallery has constructed a purpose-built landscape called Portrait Island, and it is here that Doppelganger takes place. Visitors log on and explore the space using their chosen avatar. Along the way they encounter artworks, most of which are interactive. In many instances, the visiting avatars become parts of the work itself.

I know that the National Portrait Gallery has really been pushing boundaries lately, but to me the idea of a virtual art exhibition seems like something out of the future, not a present reality. Raymond's simple explanations and her approach towards the project help me see that perhaps it isn't such a far fetched-notion after all. "The NPG sees Portrait Island as no different to the physical display spaces and will continue to display digital art that investigates notions of identity and portraiture in this space."

While the project is certainly a challenge to the traditional concept of an art exhibition - chiefly that is has to inhabit a physical space - Raymond points out that it enables the NPG to contact a wider audience than ever before. "Exhibiting in Second Life gives us the opportunity to reach a massive online community but hopefully also to inspire people who have never experienced this kind of thing before."

It looks like I may be one of those people - if only I can sort out my stone-age net connection to take the plunge into this new dimension! Those happily online are able to get involved by sending their avatars to Portrait Island and checking out Doppelganger for their (virtual) selves. Artistic types may even be able to step into the Second Life spotlight at some stage. "We are calling on artists to submit proposals for work for display on the Island," says Raymond. "And, of course, we're already thinking about the next exhibition in the online program!"

Doppelganger is online until March 23 2009 and can be accessed by visiting www.portrait.gov.au

"You don't often get the opportunity to see Lorca on Australian stages," says actor Sam Hannan-Morrow, before checking himself: "except, of course, for this year." Hannan-Morrow has taken on the role of the stolid, indifferent husband Juan in Yerma, the final installment in Moonlight's season of tragedies by Spanish playwright Federico García Lorca.

Yerma is a story of desire and longing, of the yearning of a childless peasant woman to have a child with her husband. The play centres on the eponymous character Yerma, trapped in a sterile marriage to Juan.

"She's a really powerful force but incredibly sad," says actor Catherine Hagarty, who has taken on the role. "You sympathise with her, you can understand why she behaves the way she does."

Yerma is tortured by her desire for a child, and by her husband Juan's indifference to desire. She flirts briefly with a childhood sweetheart, Victor (Sam Lavery) but turns away from sexual desire in the name of honour.

In terms of narrative and character Lorca's drama, like that of Chekhov or Ibsen, seems plain. But the power and tragedy of the play lie most forcefully in Lorca's beautiful, imagistic writing.

Through the intensity of his language, Lorca transforms Yerma's personal struggle into a heart-wrenching tragedy. It's beautiful to read and incredibly powerful to watch. In performing in Yerma, Hannan-Morrow says he has found a "new appreciation for Lorca's writing,"

"It's very lyrical," says Hagarty.

As audiences have seen in Moonlight's two other shows for 2009 - The House of Bernarda Alba and Blood Wedding - Lorca can create tragedy from the ordinary struggles of ordinary people who, by the constraints of a rigid society are driven to desperate acts.

Yerma, indeed, is an exquisitely rendered character, whose emotional journey is explored through powerful language as well as song; one of the beauties of Lorca is that he provides artists with a spectrum of media - word, image, and song - to use.

Director Carol Whitman, currently completing her honours degree in Drama at the ANU, has worked to incorporate these aspects within her production. The play integrates music by Ellen Kimball and a stunning red-and-white set by designer Erin Pugh, to create "a beautiful experience from start to finish."

"It's a serious, heart-wrenching, full-on play," says Whitman.

And one that, after this year, you may not get to see again for a long time.

Moonlight presents Federico García Lorca's Yerma at the ANU Arts Centre Drama Lab from Thursday October 29 to Saturday November 7 @ 8pm. Tickets at the door: $15 or $5 for ANU students.

A play about a wealthy Mississippi family in the fifties wouldn't seem to have anything to do with Australia in the noughties. But, say the play's director Jordan Best and star Jenna Roberts, the themes of Tennessee Williams's classic, Pulitzer-winning Cat On A Hot Tin Roof - opening at the Courtyard Studio on October 28 - are uncomfortably close to home.

Cat On A Hot Tin Roof tells the story of Maggie Pollitt, caged by her rapturous, passionate love for her alcoholic ex-football star husband Brick. The couple are childless, a fact mercilessly hooked upon by Maggie's brother-in-law Gooper and his wife, Mae, rivals for the affections - and inheritance - of the brothers' sick pater, Big Daddy.

"It's a hexagonal boxing ring, with each character in their corner," says Roberts, who plays the titular cat on a hot tin roof, Maggie. Buffeted by forces stronger than her, Maggie's victory lies in her ability to simply stay on the damn roof.

"Out of all of them she's the one prepared to sacrifice the most to get what she wants, which is Brick," says Roberts. "She plays the perfect wife, or the friend, or the carer, or the seductress [...] the worst part of it is, he's not disgusted by her, he's indifferent."

Maggie's desperate desire to win Brick back is arguably the play's most memorable aspect but, argues Roberts, there is "so much more to it."

"This is a really complex play, there are so many layers,"

"The dilemmas the characters face are timeless," says Best. "The kind of familial conflict portrayed in the play is something I think everyone has experienced to some degree."

Underscording the play's story of family dysfunctionality are still more bitter and more universal themes, of repressed homosexuality, thwarted desire, and "the powerful and obnoxious odor of mendacity" that corrupts each of Williams's characters.

 "I think, as Australians, we like to think of the attitudes of the southern states of America as being backward and very far removed from our own, far more liberal and open minded attitudes," argues Best. "When I started to look at it, especially if we're talking about the 1950s, the differences between the southern states of America and, for example, Queensland, are not all that great. Misogyny, racism, sexism, homophobia were rampant in both cultures, and, scarily enough, I think little has changed."

The parallels were so great that Best initially considered setting the play in Queensland before deciding on a more traditional, Southern incarnation.

"It was written for Deep South, it has to be," says Roberts. "The humour and the language and the interactions, the nuances [...] the way that the women relate to each other, that 'gush and simper', it was only relatable to that society.  The language is just magic. It's humid and hot, and Tennessee Williams has this magical ability [...] to imbue the text with this hot, pulsing rhythm."

Cat On A Hot Tin Roof, presented by Free Rain Productions, opens Friday October 30 at the Courtyard Studio CTC and runs til November 14. Tickets through Canberra Ticketing on 6275 2700.

EX: Why Porcelain? What is it about Chay Yew's play that speaks to you?

BO: It's a play about being Asian and gay in a Westernised country where you're very much in the minority [...]. To that extent it mirrors my own experience. More importantly though it's a deeply personal and passionate work by a young playwright. The emotions contained within it are raw but they ring true. It's this quality that the audience responds to and it's this selfsame resonance that speaks to me as a director.

EX: The play centres on the killing of a man by his gay lover in a toilet block.  How does Porcelain give the protagonist, John Lee, a 'fair trial'?

BO: John Lee's trial doesn't feature in the script. The play is rather concerned with the reasons or the pathology behind the murder.  We follow the efforts of a criminal psychologist trying to get to the heart of the matter whilst a journalist grapples with the larger social issues.

EX: How does the play depict or challenge issues of racism and homophobia?

BO: It's a racial drama, not a love story. [...] Racism and homophobia are givens in the play.  They're not dramatised but, like gravity, they have a profound impact on events and characters. Chay Yew, the writer, uses a documentary-style approach paired with the central narrative to tackle these issues, injecting a fair amount of humour into the mix as he goes along.

EX: What made you decide to direct Porcelain at this time?

BO: I've waited a long time to direct Porcelain. [...] In 1996 I directed a reading of it for Outcast Theatre, a gay and lesbian theatre company in Melbourne. It was clear even within the constraints of a rehearsed reading that this was a remarkable play both in its subject matter and its candour. [...] Finally in 2007 everything fell into place and we staged the Australian premiere of the play at La Mama. We had a warm reception and a sold-out season and were determined to revive the production, hence the return season this year.

EX: How do you think Canberra audiences will take the show?

BO: [...] It's hard for me to anticipate what Canberra audiences will make of Porcelain. It's a funny and tragic play that speaks to both straight and gay audiences. It can be intense, but like all good tragedy it's ultimately a stimulating and hopefully entertaining experience.

EX: Why do stories like Porcelain need to be told?

BO: Dramatising stories like Porcelain validates experience. Things that are hidden are by definition rarely seen and never acknowledged. Racism, homophobia, sex in toilets, all these things still exist. Theatre is one forum in which these issues are addressed and imaginatively dealt with. If nothing else it opens up a debate.

Chay Yew's Porcelain directed by Beng Oh plays at the Street Theatre from Tuesday 3 to Friday 6 November @ 8pm, & Saturday November 7 @ 4pm & 9pm. Tix $29/$23. Bookings 6247 1223.