Arts Centre Melbourne
May 3, 2013

By Paul Ransom.

Despite the fact that Bangarra Dance Theatre is often judged by measures others than dance, on stage they pull it off. The three-part work Blak underscores this perfectly. It’s both a slickly executed piece of contemporary dance and a passionate evocation of Aboriginality in the modern, urban context.

Indeed, the artistic and cultural poles at work in Blak illustrate the central conundrum of Bangarra and, perhaps, by extension, all indigenous Australians: what does Aboriginal culture mean against the click-speed glare of a world obsessed with iSelf fetishism and sound economic management? Does it have currency and if so, what is its value?

Once you burrow through the layers of history, though, what you get is a mesmeric triptych. By focusing on men, women and ancestors, Blak both dissects and re-assembles the realities of 21st century Aboriginality by placing clan and ceremony within the overarching context of modernity and, of course, within the geometric confines of western theatre.

More than that Blak is energetic, elegant and beautifully constructed. Powered by David Page and Paul Mac’s rumbling and evocative soundtrack, and given flight by the dual choreographic magic of both Daniel Riley McKinley and Bangarra’s talismanic leader Stephen Page, it draws you into a world of ritual, transformation and loss. However, it is far from funereal. Blak’s final third part is a triumphant reconnection with the serpent of culture and country. 

Loaded up as they are with expectation and obligation, Bangarra still delivers the theatrical goods with passionate and powerful aplomb. Blak shows once again why they are the flag bearers for contemporary indigenous culture and why dance is so utterly moving.

Photo (top): Photo by Greg Barrett.

Former Australian Ballet principal Robert Curran has moved from centre stage to the wings; but don’t for a moment think he doesn’t mean it anymore.

By Paul Ransom.

When you have dedicated the best part of your adolescence and adult life to dance what do you do when you slide off the tights for the final time and vanish into retirement? Former Australian Ballet principal Robert Curran didn’t have to wait long to find out.

Following his 2011 swansong, Curran was looking forward to a sabbatical. “I made the decision last year that I would take twelve months off just to get some distance between myself and performing, but I only really lasted about two months before I was desperate to get back in the studio and be part of the creative process again.”

Fast forward a few months and Curran found himself joining forces with one of Australia’s most recognised choreographers, Stephen Page, and taking on the role of Rehearsal Director with the country’s peak indigenous arts company Bangarra Dance Theatre.

It may sound less glamorous than dancing Siegfried or being an artistic director, but for Curran his new side-stage career represents a gilt edge opportunity to get to grips with the inner workings of a major, touring company. “My take on this whole situation is that I’m being given an opportunity to learn and observe,” he says, “and if I’m lucky transfer some of those learnings across to my own creative ambitions.”

But of course, Bangarra is not just any company, as Curran is quick to acknowledge. As a ‘white’ Australian, he is all too aware of the company’s pivotal role both as a creator of contemporary indigenous stories and as a guardian of first nation culture. “I’m facilitating something that is not my place culturally to interfere with,” he concedes, “and I definitely don’t think these things are over-played. There are cultural sensitivities. There are language barriers too. There are an enormous amount of aboriginal tribes and dialects and Bangarra can’t represent every single one of them – but they need to be sensitive. They need to do things correctly. They need to ensure that what’s put out there isn’t just thrown together.”

However, as Rehearsal Director, Curran’s role is more practical and personal than political. His dailies include scheduling, fitness training, working on technical strength and providing overall pastoral care for the company’s 14 dancers. It’s hands-on and can be quite intense.

“When you’re talking to a dancer about what they perceive are their weaknesses and what they need to work on, there’s really an enormous amount of trust that comes from that level of personal disclosure,” he explains.

Robert Curran with Lucinda Dunn, when dancing with The Australian Ballet. Photo by Georges Antoni.

In the physically strenuous world of professional dance the ‘welfare’ issues are mainly corporeal. “As the abilities of the dancers increase so do the risks to their physical well-being and health,” he notes. “Because we keep putting greater demands on dancers – everything has to be more exciting and interesting – that really takes it out of them.”

Now that he finds himself in the role of care giver, rather than receiver, Curran is able to reflect on his own career through a new prism. Looking back over his years with the nation’s flagship ballet company, he now recognises how well The Australian Ballet’s backroom staff looked after him as a dancer. As he recalls it, “They definitely got me into performances and into rehearsals that otherwise I would not have been able to do.”

Having once flirted with the idea of becoming a doctor, Curran is perhaps a natural caregiver. However, he is also a creative being with ambitions to front a company one day. For him, Bangarra is a port of the way to that destination. In the meantime, he admits, there is plenty for him to learn; not the least with regard to the company’s cultural mission.

Whereas some might consider Bangarra’s aboriginality a convenient marketing device, Curran argues strongly that the company is anything but token. “Bangarra is sooo not commercial and mass produced. This is a company that is so closely linked to their forty thousand year old culture; it’s just that they’re telling their stories today.”

Indeed, the struggle to keep history alive and relevant is not a new thing for Curran. “For me personally that’s a very valuable lesson because ballet has the same issues. For Bangarra the challenge is to overcome that touristy plastic token thing, whilst ballet is fighting the pointe shoe, tutu, Sleeping Beauty phenomena.”

On a recent trip to remote communities in Arnhem Land, Curran was able to witness first-hand the life of a traditional society. “I would daresay that most of the Australian community will never have the kind of experience I had up there,” he suggests. “It was incredibly special to be able to go out into the communities and witness ceremonies that no other white Australian would be able to see. It was incredibly nerve wracking for me.”

Meanwhile, back in the rehearsal studio in Sydney, Curran has his hands full with getting the company’s new show Blak ready for its world premiere season. In a sign of just how ground level his new role is, Curran reveals that his main job right now is working with Blak’s co-choreographer and dancer Daniel Riley McKinley. “Actually, that’s been my real focus; to make sure that he’s fit, that he does enough rehearsals and makes sure his body is ready.”

Whatever the cultural context, it seems, the dance must go on.

Photo (top): Robert Curran. Photo by Greg Barrett.

Bangarra Dance Theatre goes back to country to pass on the secrets of the flame to the young.

By Paul Ransom.

Bangarra is one the biggest brands in Australian dance and remains, without doubt, the peak indigenous performance body. For two decades, led by the inspirational Stephen Page, they have blazed a global trail of tribal contemporary dance fusion and cultural awareness with a succession of often ground breaking shows. Overused terms like ‘national treasure’ and ‘flagship company’ are entirely appropriate in the case of Bangarra Dance Theatre.

However, in 2013 the company will go beyond mere performance. The recently announced Rekindling programme will transmit Bangarra’s passion and expertise out of the nation’s theatres and into the heart of the indigenous community. Yes, it is classic youth outreach stuff; but it’s also about nothing less than the preservation of first nation culture here in Australia.

Youth Programme manager Sidney Saltner will spearhead Rekindling. “I think it’s really important for Bangarra to be able to go back to community,” he begins simply. “As a major arts body we don’t usually have the time or the personnel to do it but now that we have we’ve decided that it’s time.”

That sense of timeliness is something familiar to anyone close to the coalface of indigenous cultural survival. Like tribal and first nation societies across the world, aboriginal Australians are seeing their ancient knowledge and cultural practices being overwhelmed by the ubiquitous juggernaut of Western materialism, and, as it always is, the future is in the hands of the young.

Sidney Saltner, Youth Program Director. Photo by Andy Solo

Of the indigenous youth that Rekindling is aimed at, Saltner observes, “They’re always exposed to external stuff like video games and TV, but we’re trying to help them rekindle their own stories from their own backyard and make them understand the richness of their culture. We want them to see that their own stuff is just as important as all the other stuff they learn about.”

It is clear that Bangarra take this aspect of their work as seriously as any of their productions. “Whenever we’ve gone back to community in rural areas we’ve seen the need for this type of programme to take place,” Saltner explains. “By rekindling interest in these stories we’re keeping them alive. They will die out otherwise. One of the things about Bangarra is that we have this cultural background to look after.”

Indeed, ever since its inception in 1989, the company has been suffused with a sense of mission. Bangarra’s role has always been more than that of a dancing billboard. As Sidney Saltner puts it, “It’s why we exist. We’ve been given the responsibility by the elders, entrusted to keep the stories and culture alive. If we didn’t have their trust I doubt very much whether we’d still be here.”

The company/community connection will be further enhanced by Rekindling, which will primarily focus on rural and isolated communities. Beginning in NSW, it will pull together young people from the Wiradjuri, Dainggatti, Kamilaroi and Biripi groups. Through structured workshops and thematic focal points (essence, respect, knowledge, connection) it aims as much to inspire the new as to preserve the old.

“It’s a myriad of things,” says Saltner. “There’s the cultural stuff but also we’re saying, ‘okay, this is another avenue for you’. It lets them see that they can go into the arts but also into any kind of situation.”

From a personal perspective, Saltner believes that Rekindling is about returning the favour. “With all the information that’s been given to me over the past twenty six years of my dance career, I find it a privilege to be able to give back,” he states. “One of the things that we instil in the company members here is that, yeah, we are role models to all these indigenous kids out there; not only indigenous kids but any kid who aspires to be a dancer.”

Given the integral role that music and dance play in the generational transmission of indigenous culture, it is no surprise that aboriginal Australia’s most prestigious dance company should take on the role of cultural preserver. “There’s definitely a demand for it, even if people don’t quite know exactly what the Rekindling programme is yet,” Saltner insists. “If somebody doesn’t try to keep these stories alive there will be nothing left, they will just die out.”

That the word bangarra means ‘to make a fire’ in the Wiradjuri language is obviously no coincidence. The challenge now, of course, is to keep the flame alive.

Top photo: Sidney Saltner, Youth Program Director, with the 2012 Aboriginal Schools Ensemble. Photo by Anna Warr

Sydney Opera House
August 3 2012

By Renata Ogayar.

Terrain, created by resident choreographer Francis Rings for Bangarra Dance Theatre, truly was an incredible sixty-five minute work that transported me into another time and place of beauty and spirituality.

Centred around Kati Thanda (Lake Eyre), Bangarra in Terrain explored the relationship of Indigenous people and the spiritual connection of the lake and its vast landscape. The cultural semiology in every element was profound, powerful and effortlessly beautiful. The movement sequences, costumes, music, lighting and set design all combined, brought this sculptural masterpiece to life.

Terrain was comprised of nine sections representing the evanescent transformation of the promising, yet harsh place.

The first section, Red Brick, looked past the assembled landscape in order to hear an ancestral calling. Setting the scene, the stage was suddenly lit with powerful white lighting that slowly faded out, accompanied by rumbles of lightning and thunder as the dancers entered the space. The simple, yet highly effective, neutral costumes exposed the powerful bodies of the dancers as they moved in a grounded animalistic manner, seamlessly blending from one form to another.

The mens’ ensemble, Shields, reflected the struggle Indigenous people faced with Land Rights and still face today. The dancers proved their masculinity, holding white shields as they executed powerful movements subsequently driven by their signature focus. This section was particularly mesmerizing with electric beats mixed with an undertone of breath compiled with subtle traditional clap sticks creating suspense.

Contrasting the male ensemble was the ladies ensemble, Spinifex. This piece exhibited the style and femininity of the dancers, inspired by the trees that reside in and around Lake Eyre and the spirit women who are suspended in time. The twig like headdresses and long punctuated skirts, with transitory earthy colours, were most remarkable.

Each section contained detailed choreography so seamless, stunning and entrancing that one could not look away. The movements were full of breath and stylish imagery exploring the use of rise and fall, impulse and instigation whilst remaining connected to the terrain of the stage.

The costumes, designed by Jennifer Irwin, were an art installation in their own right, using the landscape of the piece to aesthetically embrace and complement the choreography, bringing it surrealism and life.

The composition of the music delved into the vastness and spirit of Lake Eyre. Violins and cellos captured the beauty of the land while the subtle breath and voices captured the mystery and the spirit of the mystical place.

Karen Norris’ lighting design incorporated a soft fusion of front lights and heavy back lights that brought an element of sincerity to the work, creating mood and ambience to assist in telling the story.

Finally, the set design brought a dimension to the work, capturing the features of Lake Eyre by creating illusions of density and sparseness through nonfigurative forms, textures and colours.

If there was ever collaboration so stylishly portrayed, it was Bangarra Dance Theatre’s Terrain. If you are not familiar with their work, I highly recommended that you experience one of their performances.

Photo: Deborah Brown and Leonard Mickelo in Bangarra Dance Theatre’s Terrain. Photo by Greg Barrett.

Malthouse Theatre, Melbourne
July 5 2012

By Paul Ransom.

It is obvious that Briwyant has been thought about long and hard. The sheer number of ideas and motifs running through the contemporary work prove that.

However, for all that layered complexity, Vicki Van Hout’s exploration of meaning in traditional indigenous painting and the place of ancient clan knowledge in the context of urban Australia comes across as somewhat academic. The ideas crowd out the passion and at times there is so much happening (between the dancers and the video screens) that it’s hard to know where to look.

That aside, Briwyant is a highly textured piece; complete with compulsory video, dialogue and cleverly employed soundscapes. In its blending of traditional (and tribal) forms with the vernacular of contemporary dance it finds its place between the meaning of ceremonial practise and the aesthetic of the black box. The movement here is much more than mere stylised prettiness; it has intent.

On the whole it would have more compelling with more energetic performances. The seven strong ensemble (which includes Van Hout herself) bordered on lacklustre at times; perhaps weighed down with too much conceptual baggage.

Having said that, Briwyant is scattered with highly watchable tricks and moments, and is often quite funny. The almost audacious use of silence is notable, as is the ingenious employment of silhouette. There is also a courageous complexity happening here. Vicki Van Hout is clearly not afraid to be running several parallel threads. When it works it’s really good; when it doesn’t, it’s a little overcooked.

For Australian audiences who are used to the notion that Bangarra are the only indigenous contemporary dance outlet, Vicki Van Hout may well provide an alternative and sharp choreographic and intellectual vision.

Inspired by traditional painting, indigenous choreographer Vicki Van Hout brings ancient brush strokes to life in Briwyant.

By Paul Ransom.

Dance, like music, is universal; the language of the body in flow. From first nation societies to the gilded ballrooms of imperial Europe, dance performs a ceremonial, artistic and recreational function.

For Vicki Van Hout, a Wiradjuri woman from southern NSW and a contemporary choreographer working in the Western milieu, the arc of dance connects ancient and modern, city and country, tribal and theatrical. When her much lauded work Briwyant bursts onto the Merlyn stage at Melbourne’s Malthouse Theatre this month, opposite worlds will once again collide under the bright lights.

Like her more famous contemporary Stephen Page, Van Hout seeks to bring something of the indigenous dance vernacular into the geometric space of a modern theatre. “What I try to look for is the contemporary equivalent,” she declares, “and it’s not necessarily found within a black box.”

For Van Hout it is the act of dance itself that creates the connection. At its heart, she argues, there is something avowedly tribal about it. “It’s found at any sporting event; or at a rave. It’s at places where everybody has the one focal point, where energy is focused.”

Choreographer Vicki van Hout

By concentrating our focus, our energy, we are being taken beyond the merely passive role of audience and into something more gestalt like. “It’s the epitome of socialisation because there’s a kinda communication without words,” Van Hout elaborates. “It’s what I call community cultural dancing where you have this feeling that you’re connected to the other people around you. It’s not a religious experience but it’s about being a part of something else.”

In Briwyant the first connect point comes from the bir’yun effect in Yolngu painting, where colours and shapes appear to move. Vicki Van Hout was interested in translating paint to performance. “I realised that there was a direct correlation between the painting and the dance,” she says. “By looking at the painting you could see how you should hold your body in the dance.”

Anthropologists, indigenous historians and elders long ago recognised the patterns of interconnection between the various traditional artforms. “People take this stuff for granted; y’know, the paintings, the stories and the dance are all interconnected, la-la-la, but until somebody says something really specific it’s hearsay,” Van Hout contests.

Having initially been inspired to explore the connection whilst overseeing a class at Sydney University, Van Hout researched the symbolism of the shapes and lines in traditional indigenous painting. “What’s beautiful about being an urban indigenous person is that when I go to remote communities and get invited into their space to learn their stories I almost feel as if I’m making magic happen,” she expands. “But there’s not the dogma surrounding it because this is art.”

Beyond the simple choreographic representation of visual art motifs, Briwyant also delves into the spiritual story behind the various symbols. “And then it was about the ‘everywhen’,” Van Hout declares, “where time is not linear but the ‘then’ time and the ‘now’ time are at the same time. It then became this almost overwhelming thing, like I was going to dance the meaning of life or something.”

Briwyant has evolved away from the standard architectural prettiness of contemporary dance into something more deeply connected to country. “I suppose Briwyant refers to the significance of painting and the perpetuation of cultural practice,” Van Hout muses. “When they sing a painting, or dance it, they imbue it with more magic.”

However, on the differing intentions of contemporary and tribal dance, she remains clear. “When I’m doing contemporary dance I’m performing for people. It’s about the outside. When I do this, I look like that. This one is more life affirming, more about the inside.”

Vicki Van Hout is obviously used to dancing in a space occupied by two cultures, having studied at both NAISDA (National Aboriginal Islander Dance Academy) and the legendary Martha Graham School in New York. “I don’t know the meaning of life,” she freely admits, “but what I like to do with the dance, even though it sounds so simplistic, is to say, ‘look, we’re not so different’.”

Nonetheless, challenges remain. Whereas many would ‘appreciate’ indigenous artforms as part of an attitude that says ‘aboriginal culture deserves respect’, there is often a gap in genuine critical appreciation. For a dance maker like Vicki Van Hout it comes down to a simple question, “How can I make people appreciate indigenous contemporary dance the way they appreciate, say, classical ballet?”

The answer perhaps is to keep creating brilliant new works like Briwyant.

Briwyant

July 4-15
Merlyn Theatre at Malthouse Theatre, Southbank Melbourne
www.malthousetheatre.com.au

August 1-4
Brisbane Powerhouse, New Farm, Brisbane
www.brisbanepowerhouse.org

Photos: Henrietta Baird, Mel Tyquin, Raghav Handa  & Vicki Van Hout in Briwyant. Photo by Garth Oriander

After ten years with Bangarra Dance Theatre, Patrick Thaiday is moving on from the company. Patrick’s performance of Stephen Page’s Warumuk-in the dark night at the Sydney Opera House as part of the Australian Ballet’s Infinity Program on April 25 was his last with Bangarra.

A much loved and recognised dancer, Patrick’s retirement comes as he celebrates a long and successful decade with Bangarra. Since joining Bangarra in 2002, Patrick’s face has become synonymous with the company and critics and audiences alike have lauded him for his extraordinary featured performances across Bangarra’s repertoire.

Of his time with the company Patrick told Dance Informa, “over the years Bangarra has given me the honour of representing my culture, people and art through dance. I’ve just taken a ride on a time machine and experienced the most amazing Dreamtime journey.”

Bangarra’s Artistic Director Stephen Page said “Patrick has been a core member of the company for the past ten years and his work deserves to be celebrated. His passion for and commitment to Indigenous dance has been a driving force within the company and he is a point of inspiration for the younger dancers. I hope that after a well deserved break Patrick will return to Bangarra in a different role.”

Patrick Thaiday in 'Belong' by Bangarra Dance Theatre. Photo by Jeff Busby.

Patrick was born in Biloela, Queensland and grew up in Mackay. His parents come from Iama and Erub in the Torres Strait Islands. He believes that his in-built desire to dance is derived from his parents’ ancestors who originated from Lifu, South Sea Islands and Jamaica. With a strong cultural background, he learnt traditional dances from an early age.

Patrick’s family and friends encouraged him to pursue a career in dance and in 1999 he moved to Sydney to study at NAISDA (National Aboriginal and Islander Skills and Development Association), performing both traditional and contemporary dance. Whilst studying, Patrick performed with Bangarra and Christine Anu at the Closing Ceremony of the 2000 Sydney Olympic Games.

In 2002 Patrick was accepted into Bangarra Dance Theatre. His solo in that year’s production Walkabout earned him recognition for his talents. Since then this critically acclaimed dancer has received prestigious awards for his performances in Clan (2004), Boomerang (2005), Gathering (2006) and True Stories (2007). In 2008 Patrick performed a central role in Stephen Page’s Mathinna.

In 2009 Patrick travelled to Europe with Bangarra to perform True Stories and later helped Bangarra celebrate its 20th Anniversary with Fire – A Retrospective. In 2010 he performed in Bangarra’s of earth & sky to outstanding acclaim. Patrick’s recent highlights include performing at the 2011 Indigenous All Stars NRL game and the Spirit tour of Germany and Italy. He also performed to much acclaim in the 2011 Belong national tour and Bangarra’s regional tour of Mathinna. 2012 has seen Patrick perform in Stephen Page’s Warumuk – in the dark night as a part of the Australian Ballet’s 50th anniversary celebrations.

Patrick is one of the nation’s finest Indigenous performers and will be long remembered by Bangarra audiences for his distinctive performance presence.

Dance Informa wishes Patrick all the best with his future endeavours.

Top photo: Patrick Thaiday. Photo courtesy of Bangarra Dance Theatre.

Published by Dance Informa dance magazine – everything dance in Australia – dance news, dance auditions & dance events.

Sydney Opera House  
July 2011

By Lynne Lancaster

Belong gives us two very strong, exciting and powerful works from Bangarra in a new double bill entitled featuring About by Emma Kris and ID by Stephen Page.

All the hallmarks of the Bangarra ‘house style’ are evident. The magnificent dancers are strong and powerful, performing a blend of modern/contemporary and traditional Aboriginal/Islander dance. David Page and Steve Francis’ music is haunting, evocative and quite complex, sometimes including speech and/or Aboriginal chants. Emma Howell’s wonderful costume designs are full of delicate, flowing lines integrating well with Matt Cox’s subtle atmospheric lighting. Jacob Nash’s sparsely, elegant set design and the audio-visuals by Declan McMonagle enchant the eye.

Kris’ About is in four parts, exploring the idea of the four winds or seasons that scurry through the lives of her people in the Torres Strait islands. There are four fluid, turbulent sections – Zey, Kuki, Naygay and Sager, linked by Kris as an eerie storyteller figure in white, who emerges rocklike from dry ice at the beginning . Zey, the south, wind has four female dancers in aqua tunics and another in a long feathery dress, all in cool, fluid motion. There are many strong, diagonal arms that can be quite angular, use of the Graham deep plié, and an interesting style of retire and straight foot. Kuki, the northwest wind, is thunder and lightning, and is far ‘earthier’ than the previous section. The dancers are in greyish/brown costumes with arm and body markings, with the men in distinctive feather necklaces. Bodies seethe in a sculptural mass, performing sailing and rowing like movements and mimicking the kangaroo and other land creatures. For this segment the design is a fascinating hanging linear twisted wire almost like calligraphy. Naygay, the north wind, is the calmest, gentlest, of the four. Here we see some magnificent bark painting designs and dramatic use of silhouette as the dancers whirl and fly in layers of sinuous movement. Sager, the final segment, is based on the south-east wind. We enjoy a ghostly pas de deux where the dancers represent the movement of the dust, sand and wind. 

After interval comes Page’s strong, powerful, thought provoking, but at times meandering, ID. Tracing bloodlines and reconnecting with traditional culture, it is a meditation on what it means to be an Aboriginal in this day and age. It has a timeless feel to it – at times futuristic, yet at others as if from the Dreaming .You can see the Graeme Murphy choreographic influence blended with traditional Aboriginal/Islander dance forms.

It is a searing, scathing comment on our society and Australian history, with the dancers ‘blacking up’ (with Vegemite) for the class photo, and shocking prison scenes where a dancer is eliminated, tortured and fumigated like an insect. Talented Patrick Thaiday has an extraordinary solo where he is trapped and asphyxiated. There is also reference to the Stolen Generation and the terrible laws of the time. Towards the end there are wonderful spooky scenes with forest-like totems, again demonstrating the link with the land and nature. We enjoy marvelous set design and lighting, as well as magnificent choreography.

The final scene builds from a winding, snaky conga line of dancers leading to a volcano like circle of energy where the dancers toss white chalk into the air. ‘Ashes to ashes, dust to dust’, or is it more hopeful? There are so many layers of meaning and so many issues to ponder. What a challenging visual feast.  

Photo by Jason Capobianco

By Elizabeth Ashley.

Bangarra Dance Theatre continues its quest to explore the spirit that connects traditional and contemporary culture for indigenous and non-indigenous Australians. The company is not so much about “performance” but rather “essence”; essence of spirit, both past and present.

Dance Informa spoke to Artistic Director Stephen Page and Rehearsal Director Catherine Goss at the Bangarra studios in the fortnight leading up to the opening of their latest program, Belong.

Belong is comprised of two works; ID choreographed by Stephen Page expressing the search for identity in the 21st century, and About by Elma Kris “exploring the winds across land, sea and sky” as she evokes her Torres Strait Island homeland. Page sums up the central theme of Belong, “what lies at the heart of each work is the sense of the spiritual within the actual.”

When asked what the impetus was for Belong, Page explains that it was the opportunity to explore stories and use dance as a storytelling medium for two choreographers who were ready to create something after a period of choreographic downtime.

“Elma (Kris) was always going to do a work this year as she hasn’t presented anything new since Emeret Lu in 2007 and I wanted to entrust her with a work on the Torres Strait Islands. It’s important to nurture her work and give her this opportunity. And it was also time for me to do another work. I haven’t created anything since 2008. In contrast to Elma’s work, I have gone more social and abstract with ID.”

Elaborating on his new piece, Page talks about the mood and ideas behind ID. “I wanted to use positive words to rekindle the stories and connective spirit, to ask the question ‘What is it about 21st century Aborigines?’ –  to compare urban Aboriginals with traditional man; indigenous perceptions with Western perceptions. There are so many urban Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islanders who choose to celebrate their indigenous identity; to reclaim, rekindle or reawaken their traditional heritage. We are apt to romanticise the traditional Aboriginal but I want to bridge the traditional with the contemporary.”

The uniqueness of Bangarra lies as much with its vision as an indigenous-centred dance company as it does with its dancers. We asked which qualities Bangarra looks for when choosing dancers. Catherine Goss Rehearsal Director responds, “in terms of choosing the dancers it’s more about a spirit and understanding of indigenous culture and telling the stories.” One such example is Jhuny-Boy Borja, the only non-indigenous dancer currently with the company but who grew up in Katherine and understands the strong connection with the land and importance of storytelling.

The Bangarra dancers must also have the capacity to mentor and nurture the collective creative form rather than solely pursuing their individual technical ability. Goss continues, “Jhuny-Boy has been with Bangarra since 2003 so he’s one of our senior dancers. We have the cycle of the older ones teaching the younger ones and the younger dancers looking to the more experienced dancers for guidance. We find that the dancers join Bangarra in order to rekindle and reconnect. The majority of them are urban so there isn’t always a strong thread to their indigenous roots. With Bangarra they can really embrace their culture.”

Goss continues, “However, that’s not to say that we don’t require technical dance ability. The evolution has been interesting to watch over the past 10 years. We’re embracing more the technical without losing the essence.”

When asked to define the spiritual sense or experience of an indigenous person Page mentions one’s moral wavelength. “With the environment crying out, there’s a real need for a cohesiveness of the human spirit. People want to belong but Western Society is so concerned with wanting to understand and wanting an answer now. It’s about supremacy and systems. They should relax a bit and just accept, try not to abuse what’s around us and adopt some of the indigenous spirit.”

On asking the same question on a more personal level he chose to respond on behalf of Bangarra, “It’s about a maintenance of the spirit. We’re caretakers of the spirits of our ancestors. It’s about respect for the land which has shaped the people. A diverse land creates a diversity of people, and we respect that.”

Bangarra is a high profile indigenous cultural export and has been highly acclaimed in various countries around the world. The audience response has been overwhelming. “In Germany we received no less than four standing ovations per night, and it was the same at the Kennedy Centre in the US. I think we all have the desire to connect on a different level, on the spiritual level. The audience comes away with history and feels something. In Germany there was an awe-struck silence through the performance and during intermission a mad flapping of pages as they digested the programs.”

We asked Page what he hopes the audience will take with them from a Bangarra performance. “A consciousness, hopefully we’ll awaken their spiritual consciousness, a different aesthetic. Humans have to face many facets of emotional and social struggles, so on the one hand we try to cleanse and heal through our works. And then on the other hand in some of my other works I want to confront but also allow a healing.”

Touring throughout regional Australia allows Bangarra to engage with various indigenous communities.  Goss outlines the active involvement of Bangarra.” We have an education program which involves workshops with local indigenous school children when we do our regional tours. The dancers are effectively mentoring these children and showing them the possibilities for a creative career”.

Added to this is Bangarra’s Dance Safe Program that provides a structured approach for the dancers’ strengthening and rehabilitation in order to minimize disruptions caused by injuries. Goss oversees the program and explains. “Australia leads the world in terms of dancer care and Bangarra decided to have a more formalised program rather than calling physios when dancers needed them. So now, we have a physiotherapist on board three hours per week and a massage therapist once a week. Even when we’re on tour we ensure we have access to physios and massage therapists.”

Bangarra Dance Theatre continues to flourish with the recognition that it has definitely come of age. Asked if he was happy to continue after 19 years at the helm Page says “nothing’s shifting me at the moment…and there is a strong cultural purpose. Time will tell…when the spirit moves”.

Like the winds that sweep across the sand, sea and sky get ready to experience the spirit of Bangarra as they tour both nationally and internationally.

Belong
Brisbane, Playhouse Theatre, QPAC  1 – 9 July
Sydney, Drama Theatre, Sydney Opera House  20 July – 20 August 
Perth, Heath Ledger Theatre, State Theatre Centre of WA   25 – 28 August
Canberra, Canberra Theatre Centre  2 – 3 September
Wollongong, Merrigong Theatre Company, IMB Theatre, IPAC  8 – 10 September
Melbourne, Playhouse Theatre, The Arts Centre  15 – 24 September

www.bangarra.com.au

Photos: Jason Capobianco