As we sat in the concrete bleachers framing the perimeter of the Campbelltown Arts Centre’s courtyard we were treated to the acrid waft of burning rubber produced by perfectly executed donuts as a V8 roared in precise concentric circular patterns to open High Octane, the latest choreographic offering of Emma Harrison in collaboration with performers Emma Riches and Frances Orlina and a slew of additional creatives.
The opening was as big as you could possibly get and made big promises. I mean you can’t offer up ear plugs, hire a stunt crew, permanently scar the entryway and then follow it up with a meek offering now can you? So it stands to reason that even though the set was comparatively sparse, except for the twenty car tires framing the lighting trees on either side of the stage, the lighting designer Benjamin Brockman had a big job ahead of him filling the interior, to equal the pomp and circumstance of the outdoor platform. And this he certainly did with bold lighting in colourful washes that bounced off the cyclorama to create a cinematic effect which was enhanced by so much haze I thought I was about to burst forth from the bottle from the 70s sitcom I Dream of Jeannie.
Like my dated reference to the comedy starring Barbara Eden and Larry Hagman, I was initially a little perplexed by the monologue performed by Francis Orlina which had her precariously navigate a pathway forged by three crash helmets while revealing youthful aspirations of fame. I was later informed that the words were in fact lyrics to the song When I Grow Up by the Pussycat Dolls. Referencing the video afterward I remember this song well and recognise the colour palette as a driving influence for this work, along with a correlating automotive theme.
The costuming for High Octane differed from the Pussycat Dolls aesthetic in that the racing jumpsuit/bodysuits this trio donned rendered them as blank canvases enabling them to switch narratives by clever reveals and augmentations in increments rendering the sexy pin- up, or showgirl as merely a facet of a complex female whole. In hindsight I recognised the recitation of the Pussycat Dolls lyrics juxtaposed against the navigation of the hazardous pathway as a display of youthful vulnerability and possibly representative of small town naivety, as opposed to merely a flat rendition of vacuous ambition.
This is the strength of Harrison’s latest work, the sum of the whole creative aspects being utilised to the fullest to realise her concept. However, the dancing was not lost in the mix either with superb unison sequences ramping up the energy to match the production values. My favourite would have to be the moment Harrison performs a petit allegro enchainment to the huge sound of a heavy metal riff. Somehow it sums up all the contradictions of excess and everyday reality which is becoming more and more prevalent, as the fiscal gap between the haves and have nots grows and exceeds the geographical identity, from which this show hails. For in fact High Octane is a nod to the Bogan Westie which still resonates with so many of us.
Just sad this review didn’t come out early enough for you to make the trek out to see High Octane for yourselves.
From Campbelltown Arts Centre to Parramatta Riverside’s hub of dance that is the Lennox Theatre, my feet were firmly planted in this city’s Western suburbs. I was in for a treat this past week with FORM Dance Projects inaugural festival celebrating the art of the duet titled That’s Two, Thank You.
Jumping right in I experienced The Dataset produced by Australian Dance Party because like High Octane, the week before this work took us on a rollercoaster ride. I wouldn’t say of emotions but certainly as the work progressed my curiosity and personal investment increased. If I were to describe this work in one word, I would definitely say apocalyptic. Yep that’s it. APOCALYPTIC
Even before the house lights dim, and we are treated to the show proper, we enter another temporal realm via lighting designer Jordan Hodge. What he achieved with a series of what seemed like old fashioned fluorescent cylindrical lights was the overriding transformative element transporting us into, what was revealed to be, an increasingly dystopian future. The lights were suspended above the dancers in a cluster resembling the pipes of an organ, the long shafts hanging vertically and pulsing with light as air would through the musical instrument. However, in this case the movement of the lights represented the accumulation of data, which was related to us via the sound accompaniment, comprised of a soothing automated voice simulation.
The lighting pods, placed vertically on the stage by small plastic stands, were manipulated by dancer creators Alison Plevey and Sara Black, to place us within the confines of the Biomet Data Rejuvenation Centre. Plevey and Black’s identities were reduced to numericies, along with every aspect of their lives, which were similarly quantified by numerical status. This was also communicated to us via the symbiotic relationship between the automated soundscape and lighting.
In The Dataset, as with High Octane the dance was powerful because the production values were utilised so well. The choreography permeated all aspects of The Dataset with the precision it needed to make us feel we had eyes on a credible future. Again I am reminded of another filmic production, this time 2001: A SPACE ODYSSEY, which also began as a benign sci-fi adventure before transforming into a potential sinister prophecy.
From The Dataset I was transported firmly back to the present, with an homage to the past in the duet titled Common Place, created and performed by two of our most virtuosic dance technicians in Omer Backley-Astrachan and Jana Castillo.
As opposed to the two preceding works Common Place was all about the dance. The weight of the dance component reigned supreme in this work in that if the lighting and the costuming and dare I say it, even the sound, was stripped of these elements, Common Place would retain its substance. Back in the day (my day I suppose) this would have been affectionately known as a lights and tights production.
Having introduced Common Place in such an apparently flippant manner I feel I must clarify myself, because I am in no uncertain manner belittling its importance as an integral part of this festival and as a stand alone piece. In fact this work probably strikes the strongest personal chord. As an Indigenous choreographer my life has been dedicated to the dance that affirms the ‘folk’, the dance dedicated to and chronicling the ways in which we behave, interact with each other and the surroundings in which we inhabit. In Common Place it was not just the technical feats in the physicality which both inspired and amazed me, but the overt rhythms employed and the presence of aerial work to reflect everyday lived life. No, not the big jumps and leaps, but the hops and skips, foot brushes and stamps that allude to joy and to the topographies that exist outside the flat square black box of the theatre.
The third act of this night of duets was titled twobytwo and within it contained yet another double bill, the first of which was Lucky Lartey’s Exoticsm which I have seen before as part of the now defunct Keir Choreographic Awards dedicated to the interdisciplinary interweaving of visual arts and choreography. I have followed Lartey’s career with interest as an artist who is actively championing an alternative aesthetic to the ubiquity that is classical ballet and its derivatives, whether they be in direct lineage or direct opposition to the hegemonic ideal of art sophistication.
I was pleased that Lartey with performer Vincent Garcia extended his shadow play sequence priming our eyes to apprehend the subtle optical illusions he has been developing in his stills photographic practice and in this case with the simple use of electrical tape and fabric, to join and transform images and concepts.
Last of the evening I attended was Orígenes by Daniel Navarro Lorenzo performed by former AUSTI Dance and Physical Theatre member Madeleine Backen. Again it was fitting that this piece closed the evening as it was an homage to nature, acting as a type of cautionary tale as alluded to our relationship with it as a memory. This was realised with the aid of properties simulating elements of nature which were manipulated by the dancers to cover the stage, thereby converting it into a forest floor. Sans legs (side curtains) the shadow play employed upon the exposed brick of the theatre’s walls added dimension to the work. As the shadow bodies changed size in relation to their proximity to the light source shed their anthropomorphic form, if just for a few moments, to prompt us to think about the interrelated nature of everything in existence and the part we play within it.
As usual, so much to see. I have not unpacked my part in this festival as part of a work titled An Honest Conversation devised by Sasha Copland as director of Java Dance, nor have I unpacked the completion attached to the festival titled Duels. Like I say, “Watch this space” as it will appear as a bonus soon.
Vicki Van Hout
FORM Dance Projects
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