Dance
Bagpipe music
by Francesca Horsley
QUEEN CAMEL, by Ann Dewey, Concert Chamber, Auckland Town Hall; BEST FOOT FORWARD 2003, by Footnote, Dorothy Winstone Centre, Auckland.
An imposing, outsized Queen, her white gauzy frock cascading over a split stage, prefaced Ann Dewey’s flight of fancy, Queen Camel – a story of finding self within different landscapes. Five dancers, simply clad, explored the exotic and ordinary, belonging and difference, landscapes of the heart and social interruption. A sixth, representing Dewey’s dislocated self, slowly traced and retraced a solitary path.
Especially composed music by John Gibson worked as a set, providing a rich pageant for the imagination. It constantly changed from bagpipes to guitar rock, from surreal art noise to exotic sounds and language – or whatever. It was extraordinary.
The work was theme and variation, describing Dewey’s personal journey of identity. It ranged from slow-moving sections to fast, zany, curvy dancing, all in her distinctive style. In dreamlike sequences, one or two dancers moved slowly, while others stood transfixed; then gradually flexing feet, rotating shoulders, splaying fingers, they became animated again.
At times it was emotional, with dancers pulling faces, as if trying to extract or reshape themselves; or travelling with a mirror, examining the body in passage. At others it was comic, as a dancer became a cutout doll, progressively dressed on stage for domesticity. Towards the end, the structure became repetitive and, coupled with the Chamber’s dour setting, the piece struggled to maintain the upbeat momentum. The depth of work was realised in the individual expression and collective power of the dancing.
Footnote premiered its season Best Foot Forward in Auckland with six clever and engaging new works. Moana Nepia’s Inside Edge was a highly structured work offset by Phil Dadson’s percussive soundscore. Nepia’s combination of contemporary and ballet vocabularies provided eloquent aerial lifts and forceful, angular movement. Although this served his ideas well, the dancers were not always at ease with the moves. An abstract piece, like Dewey’s, it explored the uneasy dynamics of transition, dislocation and securing identity in a world of change. The dancers, atomised forces in a wash of neon lighting, collided, twisted and fought each other in surging dissension, reconciliation and a final spiral – in or out of control?
The other works were smaller in scope, but equally vibrant. Moss Patterson’s Pitau (koru) was another in his series exploring kowhaiwhai designs. The dancers became fresh, spring-green fronds, half-lit in shadowed bush, arms waving with delicate, flowing movement.
Broken angels, by Guy Ryan, was like late-night television – sinister, erotic and tense. Three dancers, in dark coats, with only their legs highlighted, moved in a stylised world of unwanted attachment and poisonous liaison.
Katie Burton’s Untitled/12.5 Hours had androgynously clad dancers in see-through skirts, play with counter-point and rhythm and Jacob Sullivan’s one-eyed jacks, was 50s kitsch, ironic, with a hint of Mulholland Drive.
Raewyn Hill’s In Time of Flight, sombre and passionate, explored her familiar theme of the battle between divine aspiration and human desire. In flimsy black cassocks, cut to reveal the body, her dancers rose, fell, rolled and spiralled in seamless movement – caught by gravity; denied solace. Hill’s elegance continues to impress.
Footnote’s director Deirdre Tarrant has drawn from the growing power of New Zealand choreography. This year’s programme was sophisticated and challenging, confirming the stature of the company. As always, the dancers were committed, versatile and adept.
