dance out there

dance out of action....

2012-10-02T23:07:00.003+10:00

Although Melbourne is swinging into performance overdrive season, my blog and I are taking some time out. Somewhat sadly for me, I will be bowing out of audience duties for many fascinating dance shows over the next few months. Happily, it's because I'm on maternity leave, saving my energy for the newest member of my family.

So I apologise if I am (more than usually) slow in answering emails or absent from events. For the moment, I am revelling in all things maternal...

Gasworks Circus Showdown

2012-05-07T10:25:00.000+10:00

Three High Acrobatics

Circus Showdown – Grand Finale
Gasworks Arts Park
May 5

With onstage feedback from the judges and scores out of 10 awarded on white placards, the inaugural Circus Showdown competition uses a familiar format. What’s different about this talent quest is the focus on original circus acts.

Unsurprisingly, graduates from the National Institute of Circus Arts made up a large portion of the six grand finalists. Hannah Cryle and Caz Walsh’s highly skilled double trapeze act is gorgeously cheerful, but slightly lacking in character development.

Hand balancing, acrobatics and break dancing feature in Thomas Gorham’s zombie themed skit, including the obligatory rendition of Michael Jackson’s Thriller, though further editing would improve the pace.

Jamie Bretman’s mix of clowning, mime, juggling and danced interpretations is a little patchy, yet ultimately sweet.

Unfortunately scenes from the Women’s Circus Leggings are Not Pants lose their narrative thread and comic power when taken out of the context of the full-length production.

Ruby Rowat and Sharon Gruenert show the benefits of years of professional experience with their short work, The Legend of John Henry’s Hammer. A thoughtful, powerful, duo trapeze which plays with gender and androgyny, their act won the Gasworks Foundation Award for best female director, as well as second prize overall.

But the clear winners were Three High Acrobatics, whose high octane, tongue-in-cheek rip off of reality TV renovation shows combines great skills with clever comedy and a self-aware deconstruction of contemporary circus. The blokey energy and Aussie rock anthem soundtrack screams potential Tap Dogs-style global success.

A version of this review was published in The Age newspaper

Matthew Bourne's Swan Lake in 3D

2012-05-02T13:48:00.001+10:00

Richard Winsor as The Swan. Image by Hugo Glendinning

It’s the most famous and revered story in ballet, so it’s no wonder everyone wants to have a go at Swan Lake. But how many versions do we really need?

I saw Matthew Bourne’s homoerotic Swan Lake on stage in 2007, and my opinion of the ballet wasn’t changed much by seeing it again at the cinema recently. The filmed version is true to Bourne’s original, with most camera angles barely differing from the view in the front rows of the theatre.

Filming in 3D helps to negate the flattening effect of looking at a proscenium arch on screen, but it’s not a patch on the live experience. Really, if we’re going to put dance/opera/theatre on screen, it should be designed specifically for film, otherwise the benefits of such an affordable, accessible arts encounter are undone by the highly passive experience of watching a second-hand performance.

But back to the work at hand. Bourne’s Swan Lake is certainly not a choreographic masterpiece, although some of the theatrical elements, including the libretto, are very well constructed. It’s still pretty unusual to see anything other than fairytale heterosexual relationships in ballet productions, so Bourne’s twist, which has the prince chasing after a male swan, is a refreshing change.

In the filmed version, Richard Winsor is stunning as the lead Swan/Stranger. His eloquent upper body and rock-star charisma translate onto screen perfectly, making him hot property in both feathered pantaloons and later, black leather pants. There’s only one thing bringing Winsor down, and it’s something that often bothers me about male dancers. How do so many of them get away with having such terrible feet? Sure they’re stretched, but pointed toes on a brick just don’t cut it for me.

While the set and costumes are great, Bourne fails to take advantage of his huge group of swans until right near the end, when we finally see the power of unified movement. Up until then, the bare chested, all-male swans are broken into small groups, performing variations on an aggressive, avian theme in a helter-skelter way. The lack of precision becomes quite frustrating, and we get the sense that he’s just filling in the music.

If you’re interested in seeing the show but unable to get to the West End, the 3D film version is not a bad substitute. But if you’re already familiar with the work, there are no surprises to be had here, nor even much joy beyond the pleasure of watching Winsor strut his stuff.

Swan Lake is screening around Australia this weekend (5-6 May). Click here for participating cinemas.

Cinema Nova in Carlton, Melbourne, is screening several filmed ballets this year, check their website for details.

More or Less Concrete

2012-04-20T13:34:00.000+10:00

Image by Ponch Hawkes

Choreographed by Tim Darbyshire
Arts House, North Melbourne Town Hall
April 18, 2012 (until Sunday)

Dance is very much a temporal art form, which on occasions such as this, may require some patience from audience members. Unlike Bill Viola’s ultra-slow motion films or the intense emotional landscapes of Butoh, which share a similar dynamic, Tim Darbyshire’s abstract, reductionist choreography avoids human expression.

His work is like living sculpture. The opening scene, dimly lit, develops extremely slowly from an almost inscrutable tangle of bodies. One inverted dancer gradually peels away from his motionless partners, until eventually they resolve into headless torsos, tailbones pointing skywards, like weathered standing stones.

Darbyshire and his co-performers, Matthew Day and Sophia Cowen, crawl through tightly focussed scenes working with different combinations of movement and sound. The noise generated on stage, through rasping breath or squeaking shoes, is looped and combined with recorded sound, then delivered to the audience through headphones. In the final moments, during a long, slow retreat into gloom, the headphones allow for total immersion. At other times, especially when the sound is sparse, they seem underutilised.

Ben Shaw’s deep blue lighting and Rebecca Agnew’s hooded boiler suits combine with the de-humanising choreography to erase almost any recognisable feature from the dancers bodies. Depending on one’s inclination, this either allows for endless interpretation or total disengagement.

When at its best, More or Less Concrete physicalizes bodily rhythms in a playful, carefully developed and designed atmosphere. But there’s a very fine line between challenging an audience and boring them to tears.

Bookings through Arts House

Done to Perfection

2012-04-16T11:08:00.000+10:00

Weave Movement Theatre, Image by Paul Dunn

Weave Movement Theatre
Directed by Sally Smith and Janice Florence
Dancehouse, Melbourne
April 12, 2012

*NEW SHOW* 2pm on Sunday April 29, Brunswick Town Hall. Bookings 9416 9673 or weavemovement@gmail.com

It shouldn’t have been a surprise, given that Sally Smith is one of the co-directors, but the humour in this show was a lovely and unexpected bonus for me. Perhaps with all the Comedy Festival madness in Melbourne at the moment I was ready for some solemnity, or maybe that’s just what we get served so often in dance theatre.

Nevertheless, good comic timing and unbridled joy make a great combination, especially when delivered in a thoughtful production such as Done to Perfection. With brilliant collaborators and a dedicated cast, Weave deliver an inclusive (for audiences as well as performers) dance theatre experience which asks many questions using very few words.

We are lead into the theatre by a quirky song about living in the city, where we discover a quizzical machine and its barefoot inventor, The Professor. The device is designed to cure all human imperfections, although the results are not quite as expected.

Elegant oriental-style fan dances, raucous song, a fledgling romance which struggles to overcome the corporate language of the city, dancing skyscrapers and a double helix of interconnected bodies are just some of the scenes which erupt once the machine is switched on. Ranging from the sublime to the hilarious, the narrative is loose enough to allow for improvisational play without feeling scattered.

Although one is loathe to make comparisons, there are similarities between Weave and Back to Back Theatre, particularly in the way that artists of all abilities are treated with equal respect and at times, irreverence. Physical, musical, dramatic and comic talents emerge from throughout Weave’s large ensemble of performers both with and without disabilities, constantly surprising and delighting .

Madeleine Flynn and Tim Humphrey’s sound design is full of interesting sounds and great dance tracks, while Adrienne Chisholm’s witty set design and Richard Vabre’s skilful lighting transport the performers into an exciting imaginary world.

It’s a terrific romp, as lively as it is thought provoking.

Clouds Above Berlin

2012-03-10T23:46:00.001+11:00

Black Project 1, Photo by Ponch Hawkes

Double bill featuring work by Antony Hamilton and Melanie Lane
Arts House, North Melbourne Town Hall
March 7, until March 11, 2012

To be frank, this is a rather uneven double bill.

It opens with the solo, Tilted Fawn, by Melanie Lane, a strange construction, part evolving sound installation, part dance performance.
Lane is a strong dancer, the inhuman shapes she creates in the intense but brief dance break are fascinating. But it's hard to understand her devotion to the small, noise-emitting cardboard boxes which take up the rest of the 40 minutes of her piece.
The sound which comes out of them is not pleasant, nor even particularly interesting, mostly looped samples of voices and possibly found sounds, however the bass-heavy, sustained music which pulsates from the larger, hidden speakers creates a much more inviting soundscape, rumbling and thudding, enveloping the small space.

Lane's actions are, on the whole, predictable and monotonous. Stacking and shifting, re-arranging, pushing, occasionally aligning her body with the structures she creates. It's simple and clear, but there just doesn't seem to be enough depth beyond the immediately apparent action to engage the imagination or even incite sympathy.

I suspect it was Antony Hamilton's Black Project 1 which most of the capacity crowd came to see on opening night. Many in the audience were local dancers, choreographers and administrators who would be familiar with Hamilton's work, and they weren't disappointed with this effort.
On many levels, it had strong similarities to his 2011 production Drift, though it was also very different. Both have a post-apocalyptic feel, with strong tribal elements, brilliant sound, lighting and projections.
Yet where the small ensemble of Drift seem to traverse a narrative arc, the two performers in this piece (Lane and Hamilton) enact a highly ritualised series of actions within a very limited space, quite abstract, and perhaps not particularly interesting on their own, yet producing some spectacular effects.
Continuing Hamilton's interest in combining graffiti with performance, the darkly costumed and body painted pair create or reveal a series of markings, from concentric circles to zig zags, cloudlike puffs to jagged line designs. Modern day cave painting perhaps?
The movement is also very similar vein to that of Drift. Lane was one of the performers in that piece, which partly explains her familiarity with Hamilton's popping movement. It's a close relative of hip hop, but stripped of it's original flavour and morphed into a contemporary idiom. Fast, detailed, jagged, tiny, almost perfectly synchronised.
By the end of the piece it becomes clear that the movement is really just one element of this event. Amazingly accurate projections by Olaf Meyer light segments of the stage with split second timing, while the music rumbles. It's the same precision and speed which marks the choreography, an almost mechanical, futuristic, shockingly beautiful play of light.
Hamilton has limited himself here, in colour palette, movement vocabulary, even the gradual progression of action across the stage, and in the process created an eye-catching performance.

Green Room Awards 2011

2012-02-28T23:47:00.005+11:00

Here I go, crashing the Green Room Awards again with my opinions. Only on dance mind you - these are my picks from the 2011 nominations.
BETTY POUNDER AWARD FOR CHOREOGRAPHY
My Pick: Jo Lloyd, Future Perfect
Against Assembly, Future Perfect was a far more interesting and original effort.

DESIGN
My pick: They were all fabulous! I can't choose a winner or loser amongst them.
The nominees are:

Benjamin Cisterne (Lighting) and Byron Perry in collaboration with Ben Cobham (Bluebottle 3) (Set), Double Think (Byron Perry / Arts House / Force Majeure in association with Melbourne Festival) Adam Gardnir (Set), Happy as Larry (Arts House / Shaun Parker & Company)

Reuben Margolin (Kinetic Sculpture), Connected (Chunky Move / Malthouse Theatre)

Toni Maticevski (Costumes), Richard Nylon (Millinery), Matthew Bird (Nest Design & Backdrop), Gavin Brown (Curtain Design) & Benjamin Cisterne (Lighting), Aviary (Phillip Adams BalletLab in association with Melbourne Festival)

Jacob Nash (Set), Belong (Bangarra Dance Theatre)

SOUND AND MUSIC COMPOSITION AND/OR PERFORMANCE
My pick: Robin Fox & Oren Ambarchi (Composition), Connected (Chunky Move)
I loved the sound for Connected, to my ears it was original andperfectly matched to the onstage action.

MALE DANCER
My picks: Luke George and Chengwu Guo
These two men are totally different artists, yet each deserves to win for their outstanding efforts. Luke George is an anchoring presence onstage with Balletlab, courageously going where others fear to tread. Chengwu is an incredible physical talent, and showed some great character skills in Graeme Murphy's Romeo and Juliet.

FEMALE DANCER
My picks: Madeleine Eastoe and Kirsty Martin
Two of the best characterisations I've seen in ballet for a long time, totally absorbing and utterly believable, and paired with great dancing to boot. I can't separate them, they're both winners!

ENSEMBLE
My pick: Bangarra Dance Theatre - Belong
I didn't see Becky, Jodi & John (Dance Massive fatigue), and I didn't think Concerto (Australian Ballet) was danced particularly well on the night I saw it. Bangarra were on the final leg of a national tour of Belong by the time I saw it performed in Melbourne, which ensured a flawless ensemble performance, so it has to go to them I reckon.

CONCEPT AND REALISATION
My pick: I Could Pretend the Sky is Water (Trevor Patrick in association with Arts House)
Quite amazing - bemusing, very Australian, very original. Unlike anything else I've seen recently, kept me guessing right til the last moments. A treasure.

Tower Suites

2012-02-26T21:23:00.007+11:00

Ros Warby, photo by Calista Lyon

Tower Suites
Conceived and Directed by Ros Warby
Arts House, North Melbourne Town Hall
26 February, 2012

Crumbling, toppling. Hillsides crowned by ancient ruins. A glance, a curled fingertip. The liquid architecture of looping vocals and cello.
Three women, standing tall. Three women mirrored and enlarged by film and recorded sound. Three tones combining to create a unified whole.
Internal, emotional landscapes. Built forms and scurrying crowds. A minute gesture, a grand idea.

Ros Warby traverses a fascinating terrain in her latest creation. Joined on stage by vocalist Ria Soemardjo and cellist Helen Mountfort, and accompanied by archival and specially filmed footage, Warby's style continues to be fascinating, detailed and just beyond recognition.

Wearing a white shirt and trousers, Warby draws our attention to her eloquent hands, the edges of her feet, the lines of her gaze. She carefully includes the musicians in her stage design, walking with them, approaching and interacting with them with practiced ease born from many years of collaboration.

There are structures within structures, not all of them immediately apparent, but with evident symmetry and purpose we become aware that there is a detailed design here, even if we can't immediately grasp it.

Warby's movement is as crisp and inscrutable as ever; arching back to glimpse the tip of a skyscraper, repeatedly falling as though torn down like a condemned structure. But not all of this action can be directly related to the built world, some of it comes from within, from negotiating those complex inner spaces and thoughts that allow us to get through each day, or leave us howling, sprawled over a chair. The interplay is subtle, wonderful.

There's a balletic elegance to her upright posture, which she then goes about dismantling, distorting or elongating her spine and limbs into briefly held poses.

As in previous work, she uses a nonsensical vocal language, which communicates on a similar level to her movement and the sounds created by Mountfort and Soemardjo. They are complementary instruments, the three of them, playing to a three dimensional score.

The filmed footage works on many levels. Looping Warby's choreography back on itself, creating a terrifying sense of loss and destruction as buildings are dismantled, highlighting the architectural nature of the work by examining structures.

It's deeply considered and richly textured work developed through a mature creative partnership, a rare and heady combination.

Conceived/Directed: Ros Warby
Created in collaboration with: Helen Mountfort, Margie Medlin, Ria Soemardjo
Choreographer/Performer: Ros Warby
Light/Projection/Set Designer: Margie Medlin
Composer/Performer (cello): Helen Mountfort
Performer (voice): Ria Soemardjo
Cinematographer: Ben Speth
Editor (film): Martin Fox
Costume Designer: Harriet Oxley
Tabla: Sam Evans
Production: Bluebottle
Management: Moriarty's Project Inc.

The Australian Ballet - Infinity

2012-02-26T12:30:00.009+11:00

What a fabulous start to the Australian Ballet's 50th anniversary year - a triple bill of all new Australian work. Opening night was really satisfying, not necessarily perfect, but so exciting to see relevant Australian work performed.

My review is in The Age, but you can also check Jordan Beth Vincent's excellent, unrestrained commentary on her new blog: Talking Pointes, or for pictures, try The Australian Ballet's facebook page or this slideshow on The Age website.

Infinity - featuring new choreography by Graeme Murphy, Gideon Obarzanek and Stephen Page. Melbourne Season runs until March 6 at the State Theatre. Definitely worth a look, for all dance fans.

Bach Suites, or the review that wasn't

2011-11-25T16:24:00.005+11:00

Helen Herbertson is one of the most interesting dance makers in Melbourne. She is one of the few who has managed to sustain a career past the ripe old age of forty-something. Along with Shelley Lasica, who also regularly makes work independently of the masthead companies, Herbertson and her regular collaborator Ben Cobham have made interesting and challenging new work at infrequent intervals over the last few years, perhaps it’s now even a decade?

The last work of theirs I saw, Sunstruck, was a beautifully conceived experience, originally staged in a cavernous warehouse in the Docklands. The live string music which surrounded and circled the audience in utter darkness was a highlight, as was the incredible lighting, which gave the piece an atmosphere worthy of its name.

In the centre of this beautiful construct was some physical performance by Trevor Patrick and Nick Somerville, which didn’t resonate for me at the time, but the world that they inhabited was something else.

It was this spine-tingling encounter that I was hoping to re-live through Bach Suites. Performed by the charismatic choreographer-dancer Michelle Heaven and John Salisbury (who I’ve not seen perform before) and cellists from the Australian National Academy of Music, it has all the ingredients of a Herbertson-Cobham masterpiece.

Sadly for me, it was not to be.

The thunderstorms and lightning which have become regular visitors to Melbourne this spring wrought some small havoc on my train line, causing a fatal delay. And so, despite my careful planning, allowing plenty of time to reach the venue, I was too late by mere minutes, locked out by the special effects of Herberston and Cobham’s rich imaginations.

So now, it will be only in my imagination, and in the words of others, that this meeting of dance, live music and theatrical wizardry exists. Maybe, if I’m very lucky, it will be presented again, one day. The sold out season would suggest that there is certainly an audience for it, especially unlucky punters such as myself.

For further, more descriptive reading, try these reviews by Jordan Beth Vincent and Eamonn Kelly.

Melbourne Festival 2011

2011-10-22T23:20:00.009+11:00

As is the case most years when I come to the end of Melbourne's arts festival season, I feel pretty flat. Too many shows, too many hours travelling and sitting in darkened spaces, too many late nights.

And to top it off, I didn't see one dance show which really excited me. Whether this is a reflection on the art or or on me as an audience member is hard to say.

You can read my hasty reflections on The Age website, and the (perhaps less hastily scrawled) views of my esteemed colleague Dr Jordan Beth Vincent.

Here are the links :

Tom Tom Crew: Urban beats and acrobatics, performed by a bunch of hot Aussie blokes.

Balletlab presented the world premiere of Aviary: Adorned with amazing costumes, this three act piece ranges from naturalistic mating rituals to nightclub scenes and brilliant, postmodern ballet.

We Came From the East: By Papuan choreographer Jecko Siompo, hip hop meets traditional dance, Indo-style.

Byron Perry's first full length piece Double Think: A duo of split-second timing for Lee Serle, Kirstie McCracken, some ingenious boxes and lighting.

Assembly: Gideon Obarzanek's last creation as Artistic Director of Chunky Move: made with the help of 60 young Victorian Opera singers and eight dancers, it looked at the choreography of crowds and the loneliness within them.

Hofesh Schechter returned to Melbourne with Political Mother: an onslaught of live guitars and drums, screaming vocals and gut wrenching action.

And finally, my less than effusive wrap of the festival from a dance perspective.

This Baby Life

2011-10-17T20:14:00.002+11:00

Presented at Art Play, Melbourne
October 13 -16, 2011
Created by Sally Chance

As we enter the warm, light filled space at ArtPlay, surrounded by mums and babies seated on soft pastel rugs, a sense of community is instantly established. Gentle music plays in the background, people smile and murmur. It’s a good place to be, the energy is positive and gentle.

And when Heather Frahn begins to sing, simple syllables and baby-like vocalisations in a lilting melody, it becomes clear that this experience will be about more than just warmth and light and comfort, it will also be very beautiful.

Created by Adelaide-based artist Sally Chance, This [Baby] Life is a half-hour of gently immersive, quietly playful art for babies aged four months to eighteen months. The babies are free to crawl and totter around the space, or remain closely snuggled with their carer. Adventurous little ones may find themselves playing peekaboo with a friendly adult, or having a blanket swirled through the air above their heads.

There’s nothing sudden or frightening or boisterous here, just gorgeous music and pleasant dance, performed by a trio of friendly grown-ups.

Dancers Tuula Roppola and Stephen Noonan crawl about the space, making eye contact with their young audience and mirroring the babies’ actions. Some children find it quite fascinating, to have a big person nearby who moves just like themselves. The crawling action flows into a floor-based movement sequence, set to Frahn’s wonderful instrumental sounds.

Mandola, melodic steel drums and a caxixi shaker combined with amplified voice allow for a variety of sounds and tonal colours, while keeping the music simple and soothing. The familiar melody of Row Row Row Your Boat is used several times, cocooning the young audience in familiarity while also coaxing them into a new environment. At an energetic moment, egg-shaped rattles are offered to the little people so that they can join in the bouncy music making.

As the final sleepy notes subside, there’s no rush to leave the room. That gentle energy remains, as do the performers and the instruments, allowing time for play and conversation and thanks giving for such a thoughtfully devised, nurturing experience.

Proximate Edifice

2011-10-11T23:16:00.000+11:00

Shian Law & Naryana Takacs
Performed at Arts House, Meat Market, as part of the Melbourne Fringe Festival
1 Oct, 2011
JORDAN BETH VINCENT, Reviewer

Three dancers (choreographer Shian Law, Melissa Jones, Peter AB Wilson) wander into the performance space. They strike one nonchalant pose after another, seemingly vague and uninterested by their own actions. This sense of disengagement remains as the stillness gives way to sharp angular movements that emphasise a sense of structure and shape.

With Narayana Takacs’ shifting geometric light projection and John Nguyen’s wall of pulsing sound, this work would do well as a gallery art installation. This impression is confirmed at the end when the dancers disappear offstage, leaving only swirling digital shapes and the pound of electronic music.

Proximate Edifice is one of those works that is simultaneously mesmerising yet strangely uninteresting, never quite leaping from conceptual genesis to fully formed work. However, it does have potential for further choreographic development. Works like this, after all, are what the Fringe is all about.

Video Link: http://vimeo.com/30840749

Concept / Visual Media - Narayana Takacs
Choreographer / Performer - Shian Law
Performer - Melissa Jones
Performer - Peter AB Wilson
Music - John Nguyen
Costume - Osamu Miyagi
Dress - Craig Braybrook

Proximate Edifice was the winner of the 2011 Best Dance Award in the Melbourne Fringe Festival.

This review first appeared in The Age Newspaper

Duality

2011-10-11T22:53:00.000+11:00

Melenie Crowe Dance
Performed at Dancehouse, as part of the Melbourne Fringe Festival
5 October, 2011

Danced by a skilled bunch of young professionals, Melenie Crowe's double bill Duality is mildly entertaining though roughly hewn work.

Gretchen’s Mind, a physical exploration of mental illness, struggles to avoid clichés. The mature presence of actor/dancer Meredith Kitchen provides a useful anchor for the younger artists, who mostly lack the butoh-type intensity required to pull off Crowe’s dramatic demands. A teddy bear, white night-gowns and strobe lights are sure-fire anguish inducers.

Evolution/Devolution eschews narrative, relying instead on dynamic movement. Insectoid shapes and twitching, twisting sequences are set to pounding electronic music with lurid, flashing lights. Lone male, Alya Manzart, cuts a powerful solo, but other sections are disjointed and unimaginative. Syncopated star jumps and knee slides top off a night of contemporary dance that might suit a general TV audience.

Performed by: Alya Manzart, Ashleigh Perrie, Charlotte Humphrey, Jayde MacDonough, Jin Cheng, Lisa Baruta, Lisa Wilson, Meredith Kitchen, Rain Francis & Paris (child performer).

A version of this review appeared in The Age newspaper.

Bangarra: Belong

2011-09-23T00:26:00.005+10:00

Belong
Bangarra Dance Theatre
Playhouse, The Arts Centre, Melbourne
September 16, 2011

For the past 20 years, Bangarra's artistic director Stephen Page has led the company from strength to strength, creating powerful dance theatre while encouraging the emergence of other choreographic voices.

One of those choreographers is Elma Kris, creator of About, the first piece in this program. An embodiment of the four winds of the Torres Strait Islands, Kris' ancestral home, the work fuses modern dance moves with occasional glimpses of traditional shapes or gestures.

Unfortunately, the movement lacks dynamic variation and choreographic complexity, and despite assured dancing and an attractive set design (by Jacob Nash), the ancestral stories are lost beneath the glossy surface.

Page’s latest work, ID, is an accomplished, occasionally shocking exploration of what makes up the identity of indigenous Australians today.

It begins with a filmed sequence of an older aboriginal woman and the dancers, who step out of the video and onto the stage. A solo by Daniel Riley McKinley is particularly striking, with sharply isolated wrist to head gestures contrasted against expansive, elastic moves.

Graphic images of a corpse being dismembered and death in custody remind us of the grisly past and present of relations with white Australia, though the violence is balanced by the beauty of totemic dance featuring a fabulously lit set of hollow gum trees.

Snaking through time under the steady gaze of a painted elder, family and culture continue on, represented by the traditional tap-step of the hunched dancers.

ID barely diverges from Page's established style, but it’s no less enjoyable for that.

Originally published in The Age newspaper

Graeme Murphy's Romeo & Juliet

2011-09-17T20:17:00.007+10:00

Kevin Jackson and Madeleine Eastoe, photo by Jeff Busby

Romeo & Juliet
Performed by The Australian Ballet
State Theatre, the Arts Centre, Melbourne
September 13, until September 24, 2011

There’s been a huge weight of expectation surrounding this new, full-length Graeme Murphy ballet. His Swan Lake and Nutcracker challenged conventions and won hearts. Now, Murphy tackles Romeo and Juliet, retaining the bones of Shakespeare’s tragic tale and much of the Prokofiev score, but bravely shedding any concrete allusions to time and place.

Storytelling is Murphy’s great strength. Propelled by exceptional performances from the dancers, his choreography embodies the violent delights of young love and the pitiful sight of its untimely end. Through skittish runs en pointe we notice Juliet’s youth, while Romeo’s swooping arabesque turns illustrate his prodigious burst of passion. In the title roles Madeleine Eastoe and Kevin Jackson are terrific, growing naturally from cheeky innocence to their distraught and decisive final moments.

The trajectory of their relationship is flawlessly developed in their pas de deux. From tentative beginnings to intimate embraces, delicately intertwining arm motifs and challenging balances and lifts, Murphy combines virtuosity with structural depth and pathos.

The playfully bawdy physicality of Daniel Gaudiello’s Mercutio and the intensely protective ferocity of Andrew Kylian as Tybalt counterbalance the romantic tenderness, with supporting roles also brilliantly devised and enacted.

Gerard Manion’s attractive sets switch rapidly between exotic locations, beginning with a sword fight in fair Verona and moving on to an Indian bazaar, a Buddhist temple and finally a bed of yellow skulls in the Sahara desert. The unstable setting points to the universal themes of the story, arguably a fantastically visionary contrivance or a clunky colonialist folly. Either way, the time-space shifts seem outrageously oblique in an otherwise linear narrative.

Other dramatic devices read with greater success. Freeze frames allow important characters to stand out in crowded scenes. Adam Bull is the embodiment of death in the newly invented Prince of Darkness role, skulking around the mortals, haunting their steps and influencing their fate.

Akira Isogawa’s divine costumes are equally as fascinating as Murphy’s choreography, both are endowed with beautiful detail and flair. Outfits and action are particularly well matched in the Capulet ballroom, a glamorous and spiky affair, with stiffly splayed fingers and gowns in icy tones.

Damien Cooper’s lighting makes the most of the richly designed space, while Jason Lam’s digital projections add another layer of depth and transformation.

Although this lavish exploration of death-marked love brings out the best in the Australian Ballet, its roving scenes are a gamble that do not always pay off.

First published in The Age newspaper

Reliquary

2011-06-15T22:51:00.005+10:00

Choreography by Soo Yeun Yoo and Gina Rings
Dancehouse, Melbourne
June 2, 2011

Choreographed by two women from very different backgrounds, Reliquary combines indigenous Australian and shamanistic Korean influences to create a distinctive meditation on ancestry and spirituality.

According to Soo Yeun Yoo, the two cultures share common spiritual roots. Using dance and beautifully crafted puppets to obliquely visit these intersections, Yoo and co-creator Gina Rings have produced a sacred space, shrouded in mist, where ceremonies are practiced and spirits enter the physical realm.

The dancers, three women of Asian descent and two indigenous Australian men, perform movement which ranges from traditional forms to modern abstraction and a blended, contemporary style. Former Bangarra dancer Albert David grounds the piece with his mature presence and earthy grace, while Lilian Grace Steiner and Eric William Avery shine in a powerful sequence of rippling, trance-like moves.

Whether hunting with spear and boomerang, or communing with a white tulle apparition, a heightened sense of spirituality remains. The two beautiful puppets, one with white mask and costume, the other an indigenous woman in colonial dress, appear as ancestral guides, gently nudging the performers. At one point, the masked puppet walks forward on the legs of a dancer, melding human and spiritual forms.

The sound, by Philippe Pasquier, is an evocative and sophisticated blend of natural, electronic and human noise, from breathy beats to didgeridoo, bushland chirping to mellow song.

Reliquary is rich in atmosphere, with strong contributions from the collaborating artists. While there are clunky moments in the choreography, particularly in the more contemporary sections, it’s a fascinating window into ritual dance.

A version of this review was published in The Age newspaper

Animal

2011-05-22T02:15:00.009+10:00

JACK Productions
Beckett Theatre, CUB Malthouse, Melbourne
May 20, 2011 (until May 28)

Choreographed by Lucas Jervies, Animal plays with metaphysics and non-human shapes. Chairs, hens, apes, moody women and even the odd Jesus Christ pose are thrown together in episodic fragments, without leading the audience to any definite conclusions about the choreographer’s intentions.

It’s performed by five mature ladies, including Kirsty Martin, current principal artist with the Australian Ballet, and highly respected former dancers Lisa Pavane, Alida Chase, Shane Carroll and Christine Howard.

Dressed in different combinations of black trousers and tops, possibly from their own wardrobes, the women step up onto the glossy black stage which is set between two opposing seating banks. They look around, curious, disorientated. They discover hidden doors in the floor of the stage, and each takes out an ingeniously folded wooden chair.

What follows is a rather banal sequence of position changes, shifting chairs and bodies in jerky but non-dancerly moves. It culminates in a dinner table arrangement, but Jervies fails to capitalise on the dramatic potential here. Instead, his protagonists look every which way except at each other and gradually splinter away. The same pattern of gradual build up to a point which then dissolves occurs several times, so that there is never a sense of climax, or progression.

Pavane and Martin duet on a human-as-metaphysical-furniture theme, with Pavane manipulating her chair and Martin emulating those shapes. It’s a simple premise, which could work if the two were able to get the timing exactly right.

Another duet, between Martin and Carroll, is more complex and far more interesting. Standing close and facing each other, they develop a relationship, something like that of mother and daughter, with Carroll at first mirroring the younger dancer’s actions, joined at the fingertips. Their arms entwine, but the mood shifts, becomes slightly combative, as Carroll’s attempts to invade Martin’s space are slapped away. Fingers aimed at groin, chest, face, fail to reach their mark. Eventually they come to rest on the floor, lying as though asleep.

In a solo for Martin, Jervies makes good use of her supple back to illustrate the common evolution of man image, from a beast on all fours to the upright shape we bear today. Again, it’s quite a simple idea, but Martin’s precise execution, including the jutting jaw of early hominids and the gradual lengthening of her spinal column, makes it worthwhile.

Less transparent is the repeated inclusion of a crucifixion-like pose. And the unfortunate combination of a sustained squat with an awfully loud raspy sound, which my juvenile mind automatically associated with toilet-humour.

That same squatting action, which turns these elegant women into a flock of flustered hens, appears to have been created by repetition of the earlier phrase of chair shifting, minus the chairs. It’s a blunt equation, people less furniture equals animals, and one that doesn’t translate effectively to the stage in this example.

Alas, the often harsh lighting and jarring sound don’t give us any further insight into Jervies’ choreographic vision.

JACK Productions have adopted the motto arrive excited, leave inspired.

And I do get excited about seeing new work by JACK. I love the idea of innovation in classical dance, of using the wonderful skills of ballet dancers to create something beyond fairy tales and ethereal beauty.

Which makes the two performances I’ve seen so far (this one, and Human Abstract in 2010) doubly disappointing. Particularly with Animal, as the concept of a piece designed for some of Australia’s finest mature dancers is very appealing.

Unfortunately, both productions have seemed overstretched, both in terms of movement material and concept development. Which is understandable for a tiny, fledgling company, working on scant resources. Understandable, but not necessarily forgivable. If these are sketches, then they should be sold as such. Continuing to present half-baked work in the main theatres at the CUB Malthouse, which is also home to the Malthouse Theatre’s subscription season of highly polished productions, is not good form. While it’s a bold move, it makes JACK look poor in comparison to other work recently seen in the same space, and it reflects badly on an already marginalised artform.

There is certainly a place in Melbourne for experimental choreography, but without several choreographic development periods and a dedicated production budget, a mainstream theatre is probably not the right fit for JACK to be presenting this type of work. A smaller scale, more intimate showing, with the possibility of further rehearsals, research and dramaturgical assistance would lead to a much finer product, and a higher likelihood of leaving us inspired.

Inform

2011-05-16T21:58:00.003+10:00

Rockie Stone, photo by Roger Mitchell

Fran Swinn Trio with Eugene Ball and Rockie Stone

BMW Edge, Federation Square, Melbourne

May 6 2011, as part of the Melbourne Jazz Fringe Festival

When watching live circus, I often find myself holding my breath. I get caught up in the riskiness of the act. My instinct to breathe disappears, squeezed out by the combination of sympathetic fear and hope for the performer. Then when I do remember to catch some air, it’s usually sucked into my lungs in order to whoop and holler my appreciation at the successful completion of a stunt.

This was certainly the case when I saw the premiere of Inform, a truly synergistic performance for jazz quartet and circus artist.

Rockie Stone has been performing circus for quite a while, with Circus Oz amongst others. Her material hasn’t changed substantially, but years of hard work have lent her an elastic strength and quietly assured presence, not to mention several flawless routines. Whether in an inverted balance atop a stack of chairs, or making the corde lisse look as sturdy as a pole, her skills are silky smooth.

In Inform, Stone’s physical dexterity was impeccably matched by joyously resonant sound composed by Fran Swinn. Standing to one side of the stage, the responsive and varied jazz/pop numbers were performed live by the Fran Swinn trio, with the addition of special guest trumpeter Eugene Ball. Interesting textures and rhythms combined with soulful tunes made it not only immensely enjoyable to listen to, but carefully crafted to meet the pitch of Stone’s contribution.

Particularly satisfying was the way each element made space for and enhanced the other. When suspense was called for, Swinn provided it subtly but persuasively. When the music wanted our attention, Stone faded to stillness.

It’s a simple concept which was deftly arranged and executed brilliantly. Inform brought out the best of both music and circus, presenting a closely knit collaboration which was surprising, exciting and beautiful. I held my breath, and hollered.

Drift

2011-03-30T21:49:00.003+11:00

Photo by Byron Perry

Choreographed by Antony Hamilton
Performed outdoors, in Melbourne
March 2011, as part of Dance Massive

Approaching the site, it’s dark. Scratchy, alien noises are emanating from the car stereo. Under a soaring concrete overpass, we stop, huddled in our vehicle.

Dust-coloured creatures are visible, holding on to each other as if to avoid being separated in a storm. They are dressed for the elements, wearing boots, craftily aged jackets and pants, outfits reminiscent of a previous decade, possibly borrowed from the set of Star Wars. Occasionally lights flash, briefly illuminating the bridge above. We have been transported to another world, or at least another age.

Gradually the shuffling of the three hooded beings develops into idiosyncratic movement. Isolated, insular, the sense of otherness is heightened by these unfamiliar manoeuvres. Standing closely together, their appearance and actions have a tribal likeness.

It’s a technique choreographer Antony Hamilton has employed before, though this spears to be a more sophisticated stage in the evolution of his style. Small movements, inspired by hip hop but with a focus on spatial and rhythmic invention, popping through the torso and arms of a group of closely placed dancers.

After several minutes, something changes… they leave. Enter a woman, bare breasted, dragging a long, smooth tree branch. She begins a sequence of spinning, gathering momentum until the wooden limb is airborne. The contrast of her soft flesh against the unbending timber is painfully marked, the weight of it pressing against her body as she swings it. There is something ritualistic, pagan, ancient but also naïve in the scene. Like a child in the wilderness, or a priestess enacting a sacred dance, it’s primal, simple, unaffected.

The dust creatures return, surrounding the newcomer. The sense of tribalism and ritual is heightened when they begin a unified sequence of rhythmic stamping and hand movements. There’s a sense of danger, desperation and exhaustion. Is she being converted, captured, or saved?

Intermittent grids of light flash and move across the roof of this post-industrial space, which could just as easily be a scorched planet in another galaxy as a post-apocalyptic earth. Viewing it through the prism of a car windscreen adds to the sense of unreality. We could be at the drive in, watching a sci-fi movie, or in our own personal space-pod, observing alien life forms. It’s a pleasant change to the ubiquitous black box theatre experience, and Hamilton’s ambitious scenario easily justifies the outdoor setting.

The four dancers are totally committed, the sound broadcast to our car stereo by Robin Fox is out of this world, Paula Levis’s costumes are worthy of a film-set and the site specific projections by Kit Webster are sparse enough to be a constant surprise, subtle enough not to intrude and so well focussed as to appear native to the space.

It begs the question, why don’t we have more site specific dance in Melbourne? Maybe this production will spark a new wave of thoughtfullly devised ventures outside the theatre.

Performed by Alisdair Macindoe, Jess Wong, Melanie Lane, and Lily Paskas as the intruder.

Chunky get Connected

2011-03-21T22:52:00.009+11:00

Alisdair Macindoe and Marnie Palomares, photo by Jeff Busby

Connected
Choreographed by Gideon Obarzanek for Chunky Move
CUB Malthouse, Melbourne
March 15, 2011
As part of Dance Massive

It’s been a while since Gideon Obarzanek created anything even close to a pure dance work. Not that Connected is pure dance. Featuring a kinetic sculpture by Reuben Margolin and snippets of spoken word, it’s a hybrid creation which heralds a new maturity in Obarzanek’s choreographic output.

The whole piece is in tune with the quiet grace of Margolin’s contribution. A delicate white grid, suspended by strings and attached to a wooden wheel, the sculpture is both set and subject, at times almost another performing body. Whether directly controlled by the performers, or in the mathematically precise and mesmerizingly beautiful waves created by a small motor, it’s amazing.

A mellifluous duet for Alisdair Macindoe and Stephanie Lake is one of the best Obarzanek has produced. It’s a variation on the manipulation technique he has favoured for years, now developed into a sophisticated and seamless exchange of undulating bodies, which echoes the sculpture’s oscillations.

The kaleidoscopic patterns shaped by the five dancers in the final scene, particularly when in full silhouette, are an embodiment of elegant geometry, constantly unfolding through symmetrical forms. This abstraction is balanced by a humanistic section inspired by gallery security workers.

Anna Cordingley’s flatteringly functional monochrome costumes and Benjamin Cisterne’s restrained but effective lighting states continue the simple, clean aesthetic, while the exquisite soundtrack by Oren Ambarchi and Robin Fox winds through cyclical progressions using electro-acoustic instrumentation.

The scope of this multi-faceted work is wide, but Obarzanek draws all the elements together with finesse.

Performers: Stephanie Lake, Alisdair Macindoe, Marnie Palomares, Harriet Ritchie & Joseph Simons

A version of this review was first published in The Age newspaper.

In Glass

2011-03-17T09:49:00.009+11:00

Paul White and Kristina Chan, image by Regis Lansac

I'm sure there will be some beautifully well-rounded responses to this work (including this one by Jana Perkovic, and this one by Stephanie Glickman), but mine is not one of them. It's just a few notes I scribbled down after seeing the show.

In Glass
Choreography by Narelle Benjamin, performed by Paul White and Kristina Chan
CUB Malthouse, Melbourne
March 16, 2011
As part of Dance Massive

Paul White and Kristina Chan are EASILY two of the best dancers in Australia, but In Glass isn’t the masterpiece it could be.

Unlike Meryl Tankard’s The Oracle, which was also custom built for White, In Glass doesn’t build an overall sense of character for the performers to inhabit. There are glimpses of brilliance, when choreography, cinematography and production design meet in glorious moments of liquefied reality, but then the limits of Benjamin’s choreographic language intervene again and the sublime possibilities are lost.

Benjamin does exploit the extraordinary physical abilities of her dancers, and it’s hard to deny the pleasure of being amazed at the capacity of the highly trained human body.

Her yoga-infused choreography requires hamstrings to stretch beyond any kind of normal range, combined with headstands, lots of manipulation and that ‘stand/sit still and make gestures with your hands’ idea that often crops up in contemporary dance.

Chan often appears to be tying herself in knots, or bourréeing with arms almost outstretched, in something like a Jesus Christ pose. Her solo with a projected mirror suggests body image is the theme, but the dance has trouble communicating that concept – it appears much like any of the other movement sequences.

White has a solo comprised of spins. Wearing a slippery long-sleeved top and leggings, he spirals on knees, thighs, biceps, almost all surfaces of his body, but again, doesn’t quite reach the same heights of virtuosity as in the Oracle. Another solo makes great use of two large hand held mirrors, which he moves around his head, becoming a Narcissus, using facial expressions to finally create some sense of the existence of a character.

The contact duo section is divine, a whirlwind of momentum-driven lifts, spirals and counterbalances that embody all a modern duet can and should be.

The set and lighting design and cinematography/video projection work is integral to the piece, which is great to see. Synaesthesia! One moment which really stood out was when Chan walked between two mirrors, appearing to enter the world on the other side of the glass. When White tried to follow, the mirror suddenly became an opaque wall again. Brilliant timing meant that this simple trick took my breath away.

For the life of me I can’t remember a single thing about the sound.

Despite my griping about the faults in this work, it is still a very exciting experience. A great concept, well developed and presented, just lacking that final step into dance as theatre, rather than just a gymnastic display.

Green Room Awards 2010

2011-03-17T00:13:00.006+11:00

Not long now until the 2010 Green Room Awards will be announced (March 21 at the Spiegeltent). If I were on the dance panel, here's what I'd vote for:

Music Composition & Performance - David Page - Of Earth and Sky (Bangarra Dance Theatre). That final scene with the ghostly voice sent shivers up my spine.

Design - Jacob Nash (Set) - Artefact (Bangarra Dance Theatre). What looked like a giant piece of bark made a wonderful backdrop and prop.

Male Dancer - Waangenga Blanco - Artefact and Riley (Bangarra Dance Theatre). Admittedly, I didn't see Daniel Gaudiello in Coppelia or Tony Yap in Rasa Sayang, but Blanco was particularly good.

Female Dancer - tied between Emily Amisano - We Unfold (Sydney Dance Company) and Carlee Mellow - Expectation .

Ensemble - Another tie, Sydney Dance Company - We Unfold and The Australian Ballet - Molto Vivace

Concept & Realisation - I *shamefacedly* concede that I saw neither Private Dances or The Oak's Bride (I was out of town). So, I won't vote on this one.

Betty Pounder Award for Choreography - as much as I enjoyed We Unfold and Mix Tape, I think I would give this one to Frances Rings - Artefact (Bangarra Dance Theatre). I particularly loved the Weaving section. I didn’t want it to end!

The Australian Ballet's Butterfly

2011-03-06T20:34:00.008+11:00

Miwako Kubota as Madame Butterfly

Madame Butterfly
Performed by the Australian Ballet
25 Feb 2011
Reviewed by Jordan Beth Vincent

Madame Butterfly, choreographed by Stanton Welch and based on Puccini’s opera, tells the story of a naïve geisha (Rachel Rawlins) who puts her trust in a two-timing American cad, Pinkerton (Robert Curran). It is a nod to 19th century romantic ballets with exotic characters, lavish costumes, and tragic content.

In addition to its decadent exterior, Madame Butterfly is riddled with conflicting emotions and cultural clashes. These elements find easy expression in the operatic libretto but are lost in translation in Welch’s classical ballet vocabulary. The dancers ‘explain’ the action through wild gesticulations, and present sketchy characterisations of coquettish geishas, grimacing Japanese warriors, and blond American bimbos.

However, Welch excels at crafting more straightforward emotions, such as in the pas de deux that closes Act I. Pinkerton’s lust for Butterfly is shown through his masterful manipulation of her body– he catches her as though snatching a length of silk from the air. She responds with a spinning serpentine embrace, sliding limply to the floor in a puddle at his feet.

Rawlins is an interesting choice for Butterfly. She has the poise and experience to execute the challenging choreography beautifully, yet is a little too assured to convince as a naïve, lovestruck teenager. Leanne Stojmenov, as Butterfly’s loyal servant, and Tzu-Chao Chou, as the creepy marriage broker, bring outstanding relief to a somber and laboured landscape.

For tragic romantics, Madame Butterfly will hit the mark. Those who cringe at the notion of a 19th century style story ballet had best sit this one out.

A version of this review was published in The Age newspaper

Coming soon: Jasperse and Friends

2011-02-14T23:08:00.006+11:00

The Dance Massive Festival is coming to Melbourne next month. It's going to be a slightly overwhelming, rather huge feast of Australian contemporary dance, with many new works along with some delicious remounts on the menu.

It's going to be tough choosing what to see, but here are a couple of snippets I found about Becky, Jodi and John, a piece choreographed by John Jasperse several years ago.

This glowing review by Roslyn Sulcas for the NY Times is worth a read, and if you're still not convinced, here are a couple of cute video excerpts from the show:

One of the performers, Becky Hilton, is a cornerstone of Melbourne’s contemporary dance scene. She was one of the first graduates of the Victorian College of the Arts Dance School, and went on to have a fabulous career, both here and overseas. She is loved as a teacher and mentor by many young dancers.

In this work, Becky and two of her oldest friends, Jodi Melnick and John Jasperse, perform a portrait-style piece about sustaining a dance career past the ripe old age of forty. Jasperse has peppered his abstract movement with plenty of humour and personal anecdotes, which is one of the reasons this will definitely be on my shortlist of things to see during the festival.

Becky, Jodi and John is on at Dancehouse from March 24 til April 3, 2011. Visit dancemassive.com.au for more information and bookings.