Reviewed by John Daly-Peoples
Te Rerenga o Tere | Tempo Dance Festival 2024
Rua, – In Transit & Matter
Q Theatre
October18
Slip , Rebecca Jensen
October 20
Reviewed by John Daly-Peoples
In Transit
Choreographer, Louise Pōtiki Bryant
Sound / Av, Paddy Free
Lighting, Jo Kilgour
Costumes , Kasia Pol
Slip, Rebecca Jensen
Louise Pōtiki Bryant’s In Transit imagines the links between Maori myth, ritual and their notion of the ancestors observing the nutuarl world and its cretasures. Here the shaping of the creation myths, are given narratuives and images which give meaning to the transition in human life paralleling those of the spirit world.
The work appears to dwell on several aspects of Māori myth such as the creation story of Ranginui and Papatūānuku, whose, children exist for a time in in the dark world until Tāne, separates their parents, bringing the children into light.
There is also reference to the evolution of the taiaha which Tū, the god of war asks Rūrūtangiākau, the weapon maker of the gods to create a weapon.
The dance opens with a low droning sounds as the sole figure, representing Tū or Rūrūtangiākau who dances through shafts of light with a branch balanced on his head., He moves from an underworld into light and is joined by five other dancers who perform with long sticks or the evolving taiaha. They dance to a soundscape which [provides a sense of the being under water along with bird sounds.
The dancers seemingly inspired by bird and reptile movement, move with short sharp steps id birds, strutting, foraging and pecking. These movements were accompanied by staccato like breath which add to the sense of existing n another dimension.
Some of the dancers entwine cresting manaia shapes suggesting the notion of messenger between the mortal and spirit worlds.
The slender taiaha are used to create a Papatūānuku womb-like shape out of which a figure emerges.
The work is full of robust dancing, flickering shafts of light along with a mesmerizing soundtrack along with relentless beats. It blends together sound, music, visual and movement describing the transitions between the physical world and the spirit dimensions.
Matter
Choreographer & Sets, Ross McCormack
Composer, Jason Wright
Lighting, Jo Kilgour
Costumes , Vicki Slow
“Matter” choreographed by Ross McCormack opens with a lone figure seemingly transfixed by one of the five post erected on the stage. He was joined by another figure and from their fitful movements it appears that they are inhabiting a world where they are seeking, discovering or being activated by lines of force or energy, possibly emanating from the poles.
Then they are joined by a group of dancers who move to a cacophony of sound, inching forward, creating a reptilian-like form with a nod to the work of the German choreographer Pina Bausch. Their erratic shuffling moves, driven by an inner tension and massive roars of music is by turns orderly as though responding to laws of Nature or manipulated by an unseen hand.
Two of the dancers appear to respond to other sounds as though out of their control and they engage in movements which area mix of tussle and dance, their movements hinting at forces which are attracting and repelling g them.
We get the sense that the poles are the xxx of these forces- electromagnetic, natural rhythms or xx. Other bodies separate and merge becoming alien creatures and the sounds and music we hear are the sound of massed bodies and the arms and legs becomes tentacles.
Throughout the work the dancers seemed to be either seduced or buffeted by the music and sounds, their movements at times urgent and sharp while at other times graceful and submissive.
In the latter part of the dance the poles / pou are moved taking on more symbolic meaning- the crucifixion, the triumphal Iwo Jima image of WWII.
There is a surreal beauty to the dancing which is created with a subtle mix of sound and lights while at one point the music takes on the rhythms of the Pacific with a hypnotic quality.
Another dramatic sequence involves first two dancers and ultimately all eight moving and dancing as mirror images of each other creating a dramatic frieze. This architectural aspect is also present in many of the other sequences, deriving from the five poles.
Much of the time the dancing could be likened to the movements of atoms and molecules in chemical and physical reactions, conforming to notions of particle physics and string theory.
Slip, Rebecca Jensen
We don’t often get to see true absurdist dance in the style of the absurdist dramatic works of the 1950s and ’60s. Nothing that suggest the human condition is essentially absurd and devoid of purpose.
Rebecca Jensen’s “The Slip” seemed to offer an absurdist dance which was set in a bizarre or surreal environment. The stage looked like an art installation – a step ladder, bucket, watering can, a table cluttered with apparatus, a sole cup and a large, directional microphone.
The opening minutes of the work continued the absurdist premise as we watched a couple of stagehands pouring water into containers and splashing it over the stage. It looked as though it was a work about sea level and climate change. This idea was reaffirmed throughout the production with images and the sounds of water.
After that opening sequence Rebecca Jensen appeared, dressed in a medieval gown, the first of her iterations. She sat, meditatively on the stage, performing simple gestures which were in marked contrast to her hectic movement in the latter part of the work.
“Slip” is a filled with precise and deliberate movements, mixed with moments of humour and provocation. It is an experimental work where the flaws and interventions that show up over the course of the performance add to its idiosyncratic quality.
It’s a work which can be interpreted as having surreal narratives, the themes of which will occur to the individual viewer as they come to grips with the many vignettes.
The focus of the work comes from the title, ”Slip”. There is a constant slippage between what we see and what we hear, between what is natural and what is fabricated between the role of the performer and the place of the technician.
While Jensen is the dancer/actor in “Slip” she is aided by Aviva Endean who acts as sound technician, participant and guide, controlling a table full of noise producing devices both physical and electronic.
When Jensen first appears, she dives into her backpack extracting various items such as a key, a bag of chips a bottle of water and a newspaper. But when she handles these items, it is not their natural sound we hear, it is Endean – shaking her own newspaper and pouring her own bottle of water, the sounds picked up and enhanced by the large microphone. When Jensen eats a chip, the crunch we hear is from Endean’s microphone enhancing the sound of her biting on a stick of celery.
This dislocation and enhancement occurs throughout the work in different forms. When Jensen walks around the stage we hear the sounds of Endean’s feet crunching on shells. At other times when Jensen walks, we hear the sounds of her body creaking as though she is robotic.
Jensen explores a range of movements from small gestures though fluid and dramatic balletic moves to the volatile actions which see her almost out of control.
The soundscape produced by Endean is similar to the enigmatic sounds created by the experimental group From Scratch and like that group she uses unlikely items to create the sounds.
New Zealand Arts Review 