REVIEW: DanceX (Parts 1 &2)

Review: DanceX (Parts One and Two)
Reviewed October 20 and 25
Playhouse, Arts Centre Melbourne

 DanceX – the brainchild of the Australian Ballet’s Artistic Director David Hallberg – finally arrived at Arts Centre Melbourne last week after many pandemic-related delays. Nine companies of vastly different sizes and styles joined forces to present a festival of dance which, to quote Hallberg’s opening night speech, sought “unity in community”. Importantly, this meant a strong representation of Indigenous dance companies and creatives – a long overdue but very welcome gesture from TAB as the host and the country’s largest dance company. As expected, all three parts of the festival were exceptionally diverse, offering audiences radically different perspectives on the artform.

 Opening Part One (and repeated in Part Two) was the AB’s staging of I New Then – a 2012 piece by Swedish choreographer Johan Inger. Set entirely to Van Morrison songs, it was a casual affair ruminating on ideas of sensuality, youth and self-discovery. It was also deeply joyous – Morrison’s charismatic vocals eliciting vaudeville shuffles, outstretched slides and jive-like coupling, riddled with personality. An excellently paced slapstick solo by Callum Linnane was a standout moment, but really it was the ensemble’s exceptional control and dynamic range that electrified the work.

 Much darker tones arrived with Sydney Dance Company’s excerpts of Rafael Bonachela’s ab [intra]. Opening with the marathon duet that forms the centrepiece of the 2018 work, dancers Rhys Kosakowski and Chloe Leong yo-yoed through dizzying sequences of featherweight tosses and wrapping limbs, enveloped in Nick Wales’s luscious cellos. The subsequent ensemble section mimicked the brooding machinations of the mind; intricate patterns forming and dissolving beneath shadowy backlight. Here, Bonachela’s phrasing was both focused and distracted, indulging in tangents before snapping back into crystalline formation. SDC’s famed virtuosity as an ensemble wasn’t on full display in the chosen excerpts, but revisiting parts of ab [intra] in isolation revealed ample skill and some captivating ideas.

 In a special commission for DanceX, Lucy Guerin Inc premiered a short and sharp duet, How To Be Us, in which two hyperarticulate bodies (Samantha Hines and Lilian Steiner) defined then gradually blurred the lines between solitude and co-dependence. Flitty toe-taps and crisp angular arms performed in tidy unison were interspliced with lasso-like phrases of loose kicks and spins. These abstract passages were intriguing but some of the more elementary explorations of dependency felt clunky and poor design choices (black bodysuits on a dimly lit black stage) diminished the work’s impact.

 Returning as part of its 10th anniversary season was Bangarra Dance Theatre’s Terrain, choreographed by recently appointed Artistic Director Frances Rings as an exploration of the sights and spirits of Kati Thanda (Lake Eyre). Armed with shields, the men swarmed and pulsed to David Page’s richly textured score, moving from pliant floorwork to explosive leaps and rhythmic stomping with ease. In a softer scene, the women held locked and twisted arms like salt-parched branches, while slinking torsos and inquisitive legs danced beneath them. Even as excerpts, Terrain is a feast of deeply evocative imagery, stunningly framed by Jacob Nash’s backdrop of rivers of golden light.

 In Part Two, Queensland Ballet looked supremely strong performing Greg Horsman’s Glass Concerto – a contemporary ballet for six dancers. Watertight partnering, blistering turns and powerful allegro unfolded in waves, driven forward by the surging crescendos of a Philip Glass score. The vocabulary was unashamedly academic (simple arabesques and open arm lines featured on loop), but its repeated layering had an intoxicating effect. Though not the edgiest work in the DanceX program, it was ably carried by the skill and conviction of the small interstate ensemble.

 Sitting somewhere between a rock concert and an episode of Black Comedy was Karul Projects’ full-throttle work SILENCE. Through short vignettes of dialogue and dance, this protest piece for Indigenous recognition took us on a theatrical journey in which traditional forms rubbed up against contemporary visions. The movement – grounded, gestural and imagistic – was mostly driven by the raucous rhythms of an onstage percussionist (Jhindu-Pedro Lawrie) but quieter moments featured songs in language and simple clapsticks. The work’s tonal shifts were severe and frequent, which helped generate an air of urgency, but it prevented the work from finding a clear compositional arc. What did emerge, however, was a plethora of exciting ideas from rising choreographer Thomas E.S. Kelly and his team of creatives.

- RHYS RYAN

The review of Part Three will appear in next week's e-news.