Interview of Milo Hartill by Freya Bennett
Milo Hartill may have grown up as a quiet, studious child in Perth, but the stage called to them early. In Year 5, they first discovered the thrill of performance with an Austin Powers impression for their school talent show, a moment that revealed the power of expressing their humor, thoughts, and personality, and the joy it could bring to others. That spark led them to pursue musical theatre at a specialist high school, later WAAPA, and ultimately to Melbourne, where their path expanded into modelling, cabaret, content creation, and advocacy. Today, Milo is celebrated not only for their magnetic performances but also for their bold activism around BLM, queer rights, and radical body acceptance, using every platform—from stage to social media—to create work that is authentic, political, and deeply resonant. We spoke with Milo about discovering performance as a child, navigating multiple creative forms, and bringing authenticity and activism to their work, as well as what audiences can expect from their show in Decadence: 10 Years of Yummy.
You describe yourself as a quiet, studious child who discovered performance through an Austin Powers impression in Year 5, what was it about that moment that made you realise performing was your path?
Well getting to do that performance for the year 5 talent show of course and getting to experience group gatherings and entertainment! Our music teacher, from primary school, had asked who could do an austin powers impression, to find someone to host the talent show and that is when a monster (the Milo Hartill you know now), was born! In that moment in the classroom and onstage, I feel like I realised that being me, expressing the things that I found funny, or the thoughts I had that I felt weren’t important, actually brought people a lot of joy and the life force for a gal like me, laughter. I didn’t really know at the time but it was the beginning of an awesome relationship with me, theatre/performance and music. I love to make people laugh and cry, to remind them they exist – and that we all exist in the context of each other. Also that sharing these experiences brings us together, and can remind people that maybe we aren’t all that different.
Shortly after this, it was time to start looking for high schools to go to, and my mum and my music teacher suggested I should look at an arts specialist school near me, and audition for their musical theatre program. Here I met a lot of the people who are still in my life today as collaborators and performers I work with, and where we have found our niche’s and who we are as artists.
You’ve had experience in musical theatre, modelling, cabaret, and content creation—how do these different forms of performance influence each other in your practice?
I think in 2025, because of the landscape we live in and how important social media is to cultivating an audience, and how being informed keeps your work current, and having to have visual mediums for shows to advertise it, they all sort of inform and influence each other and my practice for each of them. I think most people who do each of these things kind of do the other things by proxy, because you must right? Like to have a show you must model for your cover, create content for your show’s advertising, make cabaret type content to not show the full content of your show but give a feel for the flavour of it. And I think you can say the same for the other, e.g. an influencer will usually, to make their audiences more engaged, have to do a live show eventually and do modelling campaigns to advertise something and the cycle continues.
To be an artist in 2025, whether fortunate or unfortunate, is to be a slashy (multihyphenate). I think I will say however, starting in musical theatre (although i have now pretty much stepped away from commercial acting/theatre/musical theatre), has taught me a sense of discipline i would not have had without it, but also taught me a lot of what I refuse to accept/stand for, as a result of bad treatment in the past, and seeing how the industry treats performers, victims and by proxy, treats privileged straight white cis men, and allows them to make mistakes and still be rewarded, as compared to literally anyone else. I think this is what has drawn me to cabaret and queer performance avenues. You are allowed to be you and not be punished for it. And these avenues have changed my practice, to allow myself to be me within my performance, and not diminish it to flourish, which has been asked of me in other performance/work styles.
Being a performer I think makes me a better influencer/content creator and model I think, as I will be able to improv, perform and make my content/ a product more engaging, than just serving c*nt, you know?
Your advocacy around BLM, queer rights, and radical body acceptance is an important part of your public presence. How do you navigate balancing activism with performance and art?
UMMMMMM with great difficulty haha! I think if I was the kind of person who could not be political or be switched of with my activism I would be, because it greatly impacts my work, what I can say yes to and who I can work with, and unfortunately in the musical theatre space, has meant I have been blacklisted by a few companies, because I am too hard to work with, simply because I won’t accept racism, zionism, homophobia, fatphobia or being treated as less than because of these things.
I think I ‘balance it,’ because in my viewpoint, values and beliefs, there isn’t another option, we must speak up, we are slipping into, if not already trapped in the throws of a big wave of fascism, and I personally, alongside most people I live, love, work and am friends with, will be greatly affected by that slip in a very direct way. I also think that despite everything I have said, performance and art are innately political, and in my body it will be politicised anyway, so I may as well be able to do that with my whole chest. Existence as a queer, fat Black person is political. We are seeing that reflected in the news and discourse around us and our bodies, and comparing that to the dialogue around white people, their words and the discussion of their deaths and bodies.
To create art is to be political. To create art and to say it is free of politics/political discussion/apolitical is to be political and choose the side of the oppressor/those in power/the norm. I think it is less balancing it and more them being so intertwined they are in partnership.
YUMMY has been a significant force in the Australian cabaret scene. How does being part of such a dynamic ensemble influence your creative process as a performer?
I mean it is truly one of the great honours of my performance career getting to be a part of Yummy. I remember the phone call I had with Valerie – being asked to be a part of iconic so clearly, and trying to sound cool on the phone! But then hanging up and running around my apartment and squealing about the fact, this group whom I had been a fan of for so long actually seeing and wanting to work with me! wondering which strange alley in Naarm they had found me down – haha!.
They have greatly influenced my process, and how I work in the world, and I still learn from everyone in the cast everyday. Seeing how the people in the cast who are parents, balance their lives, as well as, seeing how people come up with and develop their own work and numbers. The people in the team who are so multifaceted and cultivate their other talents in and out of the show.
They have also taught me a lot about what I deserve as a performer in terms of safety in the rehearsal room. This is something that I feel is forgotten or left behind in the cases of a lot of other shows. That we can be vulgar and crude and silly, but still be safe and respectful – and not have to forfeit our personhood and feelings in the workplace. And how to claim accountability, if I ever have problems I feel like I can bring it up and not be punished – which is very important for a safe workplace.
You’ve been part of high-profile projects and festivals, both in Australia and internationally. How do these experiences shape your approach to storytelling on stage?
I would like to think (in the most respectful way) not much, mainly because I don’t think as a performer the size/scale/ importance or weight of the show or its accolades is what is important to me. It is bringing the biggest, best, most realised, and true version of a show/performance/idea to life, and cultivating it to affect an audience that is important to me. Whether its performing at the Sydney Opera House, or a dingy pub in Footscray, or hosting World Pride, or hosting a corporate function for a small brand, ultimately I want to bring the life, energy and vibe required for all of them and put in my all, is what is important to me.
If anything these events have shaped me, by making me remember that I deserve to be in these spaces, and to be grateful for the opportunities given to me. Opportunities which allowed me to be seen on a larger, more high profile level. If the people who gave me work when I was naive, a little sloppy and 18, didn’t see the value in me when I wasn’t fully realised in my art, then I would be here doing these larger scale jobs now. And if I didn’t find what my 100% was while cultivating “Milo Hartill” through these random pub gigs and shows, then I wouldn’t believe in myself and my practice to do what I do now. I think we learn something from every show and audience as performers – so truly every project shapes me, not just the big ones. I learn what my strengths are and work on my weaknesses in my approach to story telling every show.
Identity seems central to your work, both as a queer African-Australian performer and as an advocate. How do you bring authenticity and personal experience into your performances?
Constantly hahaha! I bring it by often creating work that is a reflection of my personal experiences and try my best to display that authentically – in the hopes someone feels seen, heard or at least entertained.
I also bring it, by making sure to collaborate with people who know me and will help to cultivate something that is true and authentic. I also feel it is necessary to platform the experiences of people who are oppressed and under-represented, so that we can feel a sense of belonging. In my experience, that doesn’t seem to come from commercial theatre and tv/film from this country. I also want it to be known that people who look like me exist here in Australia, because I personally have had enough of only feeling represented if I seek out media from other countries. I want people to be able to be in a room with me and other people who look like us, and be able to have a laugh about our experiences in this country, – that are unique to this country. I want people to know – what it’s like to be asked where you’re from, and answer with an Australian accent! And then to be asked where I’m really from! I want people to know they aren’t alone in their experiences of feeling strange about the fatphobic culture in this beachside country.
