Australia is a country haunted by a history of discrimination, both psychologically and legislatively. The decimation of indigenous culture in the wake of white settlement is an indelible stain on this nation’s past, with the awful shame of the stolen generation and the White Australia policy still within living memory. The LGBT community has similar scars that speak of a long and, in some respects, ongoing history of inequality in Australia. Homosexuality and “sodomy” were officially criminalised until 1994 and even though this country can claim to be more enlightened and inclusive today, the inexplicable argument against marriage equality for same-sex couples reveals the enduring legacy of antiquated values that still persist in the heart of Government.

But just because a segment of society experiences discrimination doesn’t mean it is incapable of prejudice itself. Minorities within minorities are faced with multi-leveled rejection, but the pariah at the centre of Ilbijerri Theatre Company’s Blood on the Dance Floor finds himself at the epicentre of a particularly rare intersection of stigmas. Written and performed by Jacob Boehme, this autobiographical dance-theatre memoir explores the complexities of living with HIV in Australia as both a gay and Aboriginal man.