Sydney Opera House has regretfully announced that Spring Dance, Sydney’s popular contemporary dance festival, will no longer be held.

Sydney Opera House created Spring Dance in 2009 as part of the centres annual dance program.  For the first three years, it was curated from within the Opera House’s programming team. In 2012, the Artistic Director of Sydney Dance Company, Rafael Bonachela, led the program.

The 2012 festival was an outstanding success.  Rafael’s inspiring leadership and varied, exciting program were whole-heartedly embraced, giving Spring Dance its most successful year ever. A special delight was the close Sydney Opera House/Sydney Dance Company collaboration that resulted in last year’s world premiere of Contemporary Women.

‘Agwa and Correria’ by Mourad Merzouki, presented at Spring Dance 2012. Photo by Jess Bialek, courtesy of Sydney Opera House

Unfortunately, even after such a successful year, Sydney Opera House has cancelled the Spring Dance program. As part of the Opera House’s current budget planning they have reviewed their projects and deemed Spring Dance as too expensive. Spring Dance was the most high-profile manifestation of the Opera House’s commitment to contemporary dance.

“While we have been happy to make this investment to support an art form that boasts a relatively small but passionate audience, we can no longer continue to commit the funds required to present it on its original scale.  Rather than present a diminished festival, we have decided to end Spring Dance on the wildly successful note Rafael Bonachela achieved in 2012,” explains Louise Herron, CEO, Sydney Opera House.

“It goes without saying that this decision has been made for purely financial reasons. In no sense is it a reflection on the truly outstanding work of Rafael and our close friends at Sydney Dance Company.”

While the dance industry morns over the cancellation of one of the country’s most adored dance festivals,  Sydney Dance Company and the Opera House plan to collaborate again in August of this year to present the Company in a new work.

“These collaborations are just one of the many ways we intend to continue to work together in the future.  And we will continue to present international dance such as Sylvie Guillem and Nederlands Dans Theater,” says Herron.

Photo (top): Promotional image for Spring Dance 2012, courtesy of Sydney Opera House

Dance is all about movement. Or is it more like memory? Perth-based choreographer Sue Peacock takes time to reflect on this in her latest work, which has its world premiere in May.

By Paul Ransom.

When a choreographer declares that they are “returning to a primary focus on movement” you could be forgiven for wondering whether you missed something along the way. However, dance being the complex and abstract form that it is, you may well be asking exactly what a “primary focus on movement” is. A statement of the obvious? A post-modern ironic pose? Well no, not quite.

Speaking from her office at WAAPA in Perth, acclaimed choreographer and dance teacher Sue Peacock drills into the reasons behind her beguiling declaration. While conceiving her latest work Reflect she decided to strip back. “I wanted to focus much more specifically on the choreography,” she begins. “I mean, not that you don’t ever but really, this time, I tried to concentrate on the movement and the whole choreographic form.”

For Peacock this represents a response to her past use of text and video. “There is video in Reflect and we did try talking but I decided against it,” she explains. “I did think that maybe the piece was bit too esoteric and that the text might help people; and I did like it but when I watched it back on the video I realised that I had stopped watching. Because of the talking I didn’t need to pay attention to the movement.”

Sue Peacock’s ‘Reflect’. Photo by Christophe Canato.

In a career that has spanned eight years dancing for ADT, amongst others, and making work for companies as diverse as Chrissie Parrott, 2 Dance Plus and Expressions, Sue Peacock has been at the core of the Australian contemporary dance scene. Therefore, she has naturally been apart of its embrace of multimedia and the use of text. “This time I made a rule for myself that there wouldn’t be any props or talking. There would only be dancing.”

By employing a stark, white box stage and a small ensemble of five, Peacock’s Reflect puts the focus squarely on the physical. However, this is not to suggest that it is a themeless work. Reflect is about memory; the very act of reflection. “It’s also about the process of memory and how you remember, and how that’s important in terms of how you make a decision to do something different,” she adds.

Given the limits she has set for herself, Peacock’s challenge was to draw out the work’s central idea without the trigger of language or reference to prop devices. As she explains it, “Elements of the work are repeated throughout. So, there’s one section near the beginning which is then repeated with a different person. The video might focus on a particular movement but that is then repeated in a grainy way, or with time slowed down.”

Just as we repeat patterns in our lives, so too does the work. “In a sense the whole thing is a bit circular; but more like a loop that continues rather than a fixed circle.”

That all of this happens in a bold white space is no mere trick of aesthetics. “There’s comfort in blackout because everything goes quiet but white is very exposing,” Peacock argues. “The performers are very vulnerable. It’s my thinking that you’re focusing only on the dancers, so for me there’s a kind of truth you can get at through that.”

Dancers perform Sue Peacock’s new work, ‘Reflect’. Photo by Christophe Canato.

Returning to the theme of the work, she wonders, “Those things in your head that you can’t quite remember, do they slide off into black or slide off into white?”

With its use of minimalism and abstraction, Reflect could easily have become a dry, programmatic work. However, it took some unexpected turns in rehearsal, as Peacock recalls. “I did start out thinking that it was going to be abstract and quite heady in that sense but in actual fact it’s quite emotional in a funny way. That wasn’t my intention but that’s where it’s gone; and that because of the contributions of the artists.”

The five dancers, including West Australians Kynan Hughes and Tyrone Robinson, all brought “personal/specific” ideas to the palette and the result, according to Peacock, is a work brimming with very human subtext. “It’s like when you walk into a room and there’s tension. You know something’s happened but you don’t know exactly what.”

Minus the clue giving add-ons of text and objects, dance works risk befuddling their audiences, and while most artists are more than willing to take this risk, Sue Peacock admits to a more nuanced view. “I do think about how it will appear to an audience,” she says. “I suppose I just have this hope that there is something beyond language that translates. If we just watch and stop thinking we actually can understand it physically. There’s a kind of empathy that we have because everybody moves and breathes and feels things.”

And yet, like memory, dance is an elusive and shape shifting experience. “I like the mystery of dance,” Sue Peacock concludes simply. Oh yes, and the movement too.

Reflect
3 – 11 May
Studio Underground State Theatre Centre of Western Australia
Tickets on sale in January  through www.ticketek.com.au

Photo (top): Sue Peacock’s Relect. Photos by Christophe Canato.

Dancehouse, Melbourne
March 17, 2013
As part of Dance Massive

By Rain Francis.

Intermission is the final instalment in a trilogy of solos by Matthew Day. The first work, Thousands was a study in stillness. The second, Cannibal “excavates the shimmering forces [discovered in Thousands] to explore a durational earthquake body.” Intermission then, is built entirely upon a wave pattern that came to emerge from Cannibal.

Admitted one at a time, the audience members enter the performance space in silence, and in a sense the work has already begun. The atmosphere is thick and heavy with… something, the space darkened and intimate, with a feeling of being closed off from any outside interference.

Day, clad entirely in black – including gloves – stands centre stage and begins barely perceptible movements, gradually shifting weight from foot to foot. This is the beginning of a motif that will be carried on for the 45-minute solo. The movement will grow and therefore morph, but essentially (as I interpreted it, at least) it is a study in infinity, the constant motion of the figure-eight pattern.

It is mesmerising and it’s certainly a feat of endurance. James Brown’s sound design, based around a low-frequency hum, goes hand in hand with the intensity of the movement and Travis Hodgson’s dim lighting.

It would’ve been good to have seen the whole trajectory of this trilogy. As a stand-alone piece, Intermission is intriguing in its own way, but definitely is a work that would have audiences divided.

Southbank Theatre, Melbourne
March 15, 2013

By Rain Francis.

I think the words “audience involvement” can strike dread into the heart of even the most ardent theatre-goer. True, there are probably some who are drawn to them like moths to a flame, but I am firmly in the “please don’t come near me” camp – and I am the most ardent theatre-goer, of all my friends at least.

So, it was with a certain amount of trepidation that I approached BalletLab’s most recent offering.

A little trepidation that is, but a lot of curiosity. “Every audience member will be asked to surrender something” (or words to that effect) I had read in an interview with Artistic Director Phillip Adams. The performers would be nude. There was even some mention of audience “nude night”. Cue nervous glass of wine, pre-show.

The evening comprised a double bill, the first part created by Adams’ long-time muse and collaborator, Brooke Stamp. And All Things Return to Nature was performed by Stamp with Rennie McDougall, Matthew Day and Deanne Butterworth. The dancers wore graceful Grecian-style tunics with a modern twist, paired with fluorescent runners – the work of fashion designer Susan Dimasi. Inspired by the work of Baruch Spinoza, John Coltrane and Sun Ra, this piece was an “exploration of sound transmission and spatial experiences of time”. The movement built into something cyclical and constantly shifting; to me, the kinetic expression of a prism. The repetitive nature made it almost hypnotic.

The second part of the programme, Phillip Adams’ Tomorrow was probably one of the most out-there things I’ve seen, and I’ve watched a LOT of contemporary dance. It was very much an experience as opposed to a performance. Trying to describe it will never do it justice, but it involved constructing an appropriation of “the Intergration”, an area in the Mojave Desert which serves to communicate with aliens.

Adams and the rest of the performers were naked for the duration of this work, and the most remarkable thing about that turned out to be that after the initial two minutes, it was barely noticeable. In truth, too many other weird and wonderful things were taking place.

Audience members were approached by performers and asked to lie down on this blanket, hold this rock, remove their shoes. Coloured string, pebbles and other detritus were being placed deliberately around the space. Performers were walking hand-in-hand with audience members, quietly exchanging words. Gradually a clock-face arrangement was being formed in the performance arena; an architectural installation taking shape. Noises were amassing to form an intense, enveloping moat of sound, courtesy of the outstanding composer Garth Paine.

From my vantage point, safe in the back of the seating block, it was like being privy to some bizarre ritual – and there was something really beautiful and intriguing about it. The atmosphere in the room was one of openness, freedom and support. Adams essentially was creating his idea of utopia. If this all sounds vaguely cult-ish, well it was, but in a harmonious “we’re all in this together” kind of way. I guess that’s the appeal with cults.

Adams collaborated for this work with the architect Matthew Bird to “recreate an imagined abduction”, an event that became the climax of the performance. If the chance comes around again to witness this quite incredible creation, take it. Don’t miss out on experiencing it on the basis that you don’t “do” audience participation. My advice is to go with an open mind; you’ll probably surprise yourself. Now I’m almost wishing I went on nude night. Maybe next time. 

Beckett Theatre, Malthouse, Melbourne
March 15 2013
As part of Dance Massive

By Grace Edwards.

An examination of physicality, in all its strength and vulnerability, Larissa McGowan’s Skeleton marks her first commissioned full-length work as an independent choreographer. Exciting, even unsettling, this intense and frenzied hour-long exploration of skeletal form and memory is best described as an ‘experience’.

McGowan offers us thought-provoking enquiries into our relationship with the objects of our childhood. Accidents and stolen moments with bicycles, baseball bats, and heels are physically ‘remembered’ and re-enacted onstage in slow motion and in reverse by the dancers. The objects break apart at key moments, and are removed or replaced by a fellow performer, drawing attention to the ways in which we experience and categorise these physical memories, distinct as they are from our memories of human relationships

Sliding black screens work like magic, as dancers suddenly appear and disappear from the stage like mental traces. The dancers pop, lock, jerk and pulse their way around the stage, making good use of gravity along the way, tumbling and slamming their bodies to the floor. Their movements frequently seem directed by the relative weights of their anatomical parts, such as the head, reminding us of the ways in which these subtle dynamics affect our movements each day and evolve as we age.

The ‘skeletons’ in this work are well-rehearsed and highly dynamic; whilst Larissa McGowan and Lisa Griffiths show a natural leadership stemming from their years of experience, the gender neutral choreography and distinctive personalities of the performers draw the eye equally to all and make for a truly coherent ensemble.

Many of the conceptual elements of Skeleton, from the jarring soundscape which mixes industrial and biological sounds from the outside world and film, to the highly physical choreography, are reminiscent of the work of Garry Stewart into which McGowan has undoubtedly also had significant input. It will be interesting therefore to see if McGowan will continue to explore her work within this familiar aesthetic framework or branch out in an alternative direction in years to come.

At times, the unrelenting, fast pace of the work proved a little exhausting and some light and shade in the form of some more intimate or introspective scenes would have been welcome. No doubt, however, this balance will be fine-tuned as McGowan grows more familiar with creating full-length work.

As it stands, nonetheless, this offering from McGowan commands one’s attention and is designed to take you along for the experience, setting the bar high for her future work.

Photo (top): Dancers perform Larissa McGowan’s Skeleton. Photos by Chris Herzfeld.

Arts House Meat Market
March 13, 2013
As part of Dance Massive

By Rebecca Martin.

I’ve been a fan of Stephanie Lake’s work for a couple of years now.  As a general rule, I am a bit of a purist when it comes to contemporary work and I like to see fluidity, line, and originality.  Lake’s work ticks all those boxes yet challenges my views and pushes the boundaries of contemporary dance, creating works that are almost like physical theatre rather than dance.

In her new work presented as part of Dance Massive, Lake presents a jarring exploration of personal and interpersonal relationships.  The piece works brilliantly on the stark white stage flanked by audience on two sides, encased inside an old meat market in North Melbourne.  On the night I attended, the seats were all but filled and the audience’s faces were clearly visible for the duration of the piece. Their concentration and attentiveness was evident.

Dual was a piece that had to have been created on the dancers given that the movements seemed to be entirely unaffected although obviously stylised.  I couldn’t imagine anyone other than Sara Black and Alisdair Macindoe being able to pull off the intricate steps or command the space in the way these dancers did.

On the face of it, the premise of the piece seemed familiar – the male solo was well lit and hyper energetic while the following female solo was imbued with soft light and fluid movements.  As the piece progressed, however, the audience was drawn into a more complex story that transcended what was expected.  When the two dancers met in the finale and combined their styles, they created a whole new vocabulary of movement and Dual really hit its stride.

The piece was abstract and physical whilst maintaining sensitivity and intricacy.

Stephanie Lake continues to shine.

Photo (top): Stephanie Lake’s Dual. Photo by Byron Perry.

Sydney Theatre
March 1, 2013

By Renata Ogayar.

Sydney Dance Company’s De Novo premiered at Sydney Theatre Walsh Bay last night with three contrasting works: Emergence, Fanatic and Cacti all, which expressed elements ‘of the new’.

Emergence, choreographed by Rafael Bonachela, was a thirty-seven minute piece that collaborated musically with Sarah Blasko and Nick Wales. Dancers appeared in stillness amongst fluorescent lights horizontally placed on the floor, held by vertical wires that created a dimension of depth to the stage through the architectural lighting design of Benjamin Cisterne. Seamlessly flowing in and out of movement sequences, hints of Bonachela’s signature style were exposed through the new found choreographic language.  Dion Lee’s grungy yet sophisticated costumes of half blazers, nude tones and linear patterns gave intensity to the work, fusing focus, class and pop culture.

Fanatic was a superbly entertaining fifteen-minute work choreographed by Larissa McGowan. It was inspired by filmic notions and sci-fi homages underpinned by recurrent streams of pop culture. Plunging into the cinematic realm of the Alien and Predator series, the piece explored the obsessive fandom within the 21st Century. Embracing the movie star in all of us, the work was performed by Natalie Allen, Thomas Bradley and Chris Aubrey who shamelessly, energetically and comically gave their all, not only to varied and fragmented movements but simultaneously lip syncing dialogue of fanatics, running through fictitious jungles and battling sword fights in order to surface as the hero. A fun fuelled piece relative to many.

Cacti was originally choreographed in 2010 by Alexander Ekman for Nederlands Dans Theater 2 in The Hague. An apt piece of art that was incredibly humorous, polarizing the all too common question “what does it mean?” when one contemplates the meaning of modern artwork. The underlying concept of this piece is that art often speaks to the subconscious and the meaning is never so black and white, but should rather be interpreted and experienced how one chooses.

Intellect and humour engulfed the stage. Eloquent dancers entered the stage and orchestral players brought the piece to life. Evolving from eloquence to ‘a new decade of utopia’ the dancers aligned themselves, kneeling behind white boxes waiting in stillness and poise through inhalation.  Tribal beats erupted as the dancers beat the boxes in a synchronised yet quirky manner.  Erratic moves gave spontaneity to the piece leaving the us in suspense.  Before one could attempt to identify the meaning, the stage had transformed, boxes had moved with the random appearance and addition of cacti and the momentary freeze of sculptured bodies. Dancer’s rhetoric was demonstrated between two performers practicing a movement sequence. A parity all too familiar to those of the dancing world. The ending was drawn out in a comedic manner that created suspense and laughter throughout the audience as the dancers draw nearer and nearer to the end.

De Novo is highly recommended for an evening bursting with new creativity, bringing freshness to the scene.

Photo (top): Sydney Dance Company’s De Novo. Dancers Jessica Thompson & Chen Wen. Photo by Ellis Parrinder.

Theatre Royal Sydney
January 17-23 2013
As part of Sydney Festival

By Lynne Lancaster.

It would be hard to find a more powerfully explosive show celebrating the sheer exuberance and joy of dancing. Hotly anticipated Fabulous Beast, under the excellent direction of Michael Keegan-Dolan, returned to Sydney for Sydney Festival and brought us their tremendous Rian, which means ‘trace’ or ‘mark’ in Irish Gaelic.  

Musically, under the energetic direction of Liam O Maonlai (a founding member of the band Hothouse Flowers), there is everything from amplified harp, piano, piccolo, drums, violin, and assorted pipes to percussion, all tremendously played and full of infectious toe-tapping rhythm. Traditional tunes are melded with original composition and the inventive use of sometimes unusual instrumentation. The show becomes a cross between concert and ceilidh.

Sabine Dargent’s set is a curved green amphitheatre, similar to that found in Irish pubs, with a raised platform on which seats and most of the musical instruments are arranged. The cast sit on the chairs when not performing and watch their colleagues.

Fabulous Beast present ‘Rian’. Photos by Jamie Williams.

The lighting is relatively minimal, but at a couple of points there is very effective use of shadows cast moodily on the backdrop.

The work is plot-less, yet full of the boundless joy of dance and energy of movement. The incredible dancers seem boneless and inexhaustible. From the opening, with the traditional Irish harp, we are reminded of the company’s roots. There is not only emphasis on Celtic/Gaelic themes but a melding of Flamenco, African and Indian influences, plus hints of a ballet base. There is much unison work, and a lot of repeated phrases of movement. Keegan-Dolan seems to favour a feeling of vertical, circular movement. There is also rolling floor work. Apparently there are 108 different sorts of movement used in the show!   

In one dance the men perform reaping-like movements while the women do little shakes of the shoulders combined with isolation movements of the torso. There is one section (possibly Pina Bausch inspired) where to an infectious, yet seemingly soporific uilleann pipes rhythm, the whole cast in a row of chairs, front centre, go into a dreamlike trance in their own worlds and start drifting. The audience love it. The dance is organically incorporated with the music with springy rocking, stamping steps that swing low, yet are simultaneously high-stepping. There are soft jumps with hands like stars. 

O Maonlai has a couple of featured solos as does magnificent Eithne Ni Chathain, who in her show stopping solo is eventually joined by the four female dancers who become twisting, swaying trees with uplifted arms.

There is also a teasing duet for a male and female dancer that becomes a fun zigzagging chase. And the fragile, tender atmosphere when a man and a woman hesitantly touch, at first hand to hand then back to back with outstretched arms.  Melancholy short solos are contrasted with high energy jigs.

There is a marked change from the rather formal, stiff opening with hot suits and enclosed socks and shoes, to the hot, sweaty, barefoot, breathless ending with jackets discarded and shirts undone.

Enthralling stuff and a major highlight of this year’s Festival.

Oct 16-21 2013
MTC Sumner Theatre, Melbourne
As part of Melbourne Festival

By Rebecca Martin.

Akram Kahn has garnered a wider audience since he created a piece that was performed at the London Olympics Opening Ceremony earlier this year.  Before that, Kahn had proved himself to be a visionary contemporary choreographer.  His last stint in Australia showed audiences a work that was refreshing and inspired.

From the UK, but of Bangladeshi descent, Kahn’s movement style and vision is unique and clearly influenced by his family’s culture.  In Desh, the audience is transported to Bangladesh in a one man show that is both comical, moving, brilliant, and breathtaking.

There aren’t a lot of performers that can keep an audience entertained on their own, much less enthralled for an hour, but Kahn certainly succeeded in doing that.  Employing the talents of Oscar-winning set designer Tim Yip (Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon), animation from Yeast Culture, and music design from Nicolas Faure, Desh is a visual and sonic feast.

Kahn’s style of movement is very grounded and earthy, and while his footwork hints that he is not a technical dancer, the energy he puts into every movement and the incredible use of his body makes up for any technical short comings.

Some of the best moments of the show included Kahn’s personification of his father, by way of painting a face on his own bald head and speaking and dancing with head bowed so that the drawn on face came to life.  It was extraordinary and so brilliant how Kahn replicated the nuances of a man’s face all the while looking at the ground. Another highlight, and one of the most moving and inspiring parts of the evening, was when white animations were projected onto an essentially invisible screen at the front of the stage.  Kahn moved around behind the screen and interacted with the images.  The whole stage came to life and more than a few gasps were heard around the audience.

Desh is a must see for any dance or theatre lover, and if you have the opportunity to see any of Kahn’s work, make sure you go.

Photo: Akram Khan in Desh. Photo by Richard Haughton

Malthouse Theatre, VIC
October 11 2012
As part of Melbourne Festival

By Natalie Papps.

Fault Lines is an international collaboration between two nations who have experienced the devastation, loss, and ongoing after effects of an earthquake. New Zealand choreographer and the director of Fault Lines, Sara Brodie, has produced an emotive dance piece based on the 2008 earthquake in China’s Sichuan province.  China’s Leshan Song and Dance Troupe brought Sara’s vision to the stage with grace and a compellingly expressive performance.

Fault Lines demonstrated the impact of a natural disaster on the human race, both individually, and as a community.  At the beginning of Fault Lines, the dancers were walking briskly around the stage totally immersed in their phones and the technological world. Each was rushing around in order to attend to daily tasks, all the while completely detached from those around them. In a few short seconds, the lives of these people were changed forever.

The earthquake hit with intensity, and inflicted fear, trauma, and not only the loss of loved ones, but the loss of inner peace.  The choreography and the dancers took the audience on the roller coaster journey that followed this event.

Rest seemed impossible in the weeks and months that followed, with every sound and vibration striking fear into all those desperately seeking peace. The aftershocks from this earthquake were still being felt three and a half years later. From sadness and anger, to the strength and camaraderie that is born out of tragedy, this dance piece had me wiping tears from my cheeks. When I read that most of the dancers had personally experienced the earthquake, I felt privileged to be part of the audience, and honoured to see dancers who were able to re-live such a tragedy through their art.  Not only was this piece inspired by the China earthquake of 2008, but also the 2011 earthquake that hit Christchurch, on New Zealand’s South Island. This performance demonstrated sensitivity to those who lived through the horror that was so remarkably depicted on the stage.

The music and lighting were perfectly synchronized to the event, the emotions and the choreography. The story told through dance, was supported by a story told through words, both spoken and written.

By the end of the performance, modern day China with all its available technology, had given way to the inner peace and calm that can be discovered through the more traditional Chinese martial art, Tai Chi. The dancers moved with such grace and ease, it was as though they were weightless. This is a must see performance. It is not only an example of the aptitude of Sara Brodie, her team and the dancers, but an opportunity to witness the impact of a devastating earthquake told by those who have experienced it first hand; an event that to this day affects the lives of thousands.