Playhouse, Qld Performing Arts Centre
September
Sydney Dance Company (SDC) artistic director Rafael Bonachela originally choreographed The Land of Yes & The Land of No in 2009, for his London based eponymous dance company. For the work’s Australian premiere it has been given an expanded set and the choreography developed to accommodate a larger cast of dancers – ten instead of six.
Bonachela has been preoccupied for a few years apparently by the preponderance of public and traffic signs cluttering and sometimes confounding modern living; the subliminal way they shape our decisions and the paths we might then take. It is a rather prosaic springboard for creative inspiration, but what has emerged is a beautifully sparse looking work that connects not only visually but emotionally.
The stage, open to the wings exposing entrances and exits, is bare save for a vertical, two-dimensional grid-like construction of fluorescent strip lighting spanning the rear. The scaffold-like design by Alan Macdonald represents doors or windows through which the dancers pass, as different strips are illuminated against the background of blackness or bright washes of colour in Guy Hoare’s lighting design. As the lights flash on and off we are also reminded of omnipresent signage, particularly the digital sign.
The work begins with a solo accompanied by the strident demands of amplified violin. Under a single overhead spot Charmene Yap (taking the role created by Amy Hollingsworth in the original production), twists and contorts her limbs around each other like liquorice sticks, as if in an articulated paroxysm.
Further solos, duets, and trios emerge episodically from the ensemble, each contributing successfully to the creation of a cohesive but complexly created whole. The rich, eminently accessible, and even in parts melodic original score by Italian composer Ezio Bosso moves between piano, strings and vocals, supporting the changes of emotional and physical dynamic in each section.
White, gossamer-like costuming by Theo Clinkard delicately sheaths the lean muscularity of the dancers, who in various combinations of shorts, long pants and skirts are individually stunning in their articulation, and when en masse have an explosive but cohesive energy.
There are many highlights, but without a cast list, (the cast changed each performance) it is difficult to single out some of the performers. (I do wish contemporary dance programs would be less democratic, and if applicable, nominate soloists.)
Nevertheless, Richard Cilli is memorable for his intense solo to Halleluiah - the vocals expressed in grounded, anguished movement and sinuously long, barelegged extensions - and a puppet-like duet in front of a blood red cyc between Natalie Allen and Chen Wen also punches through with flirty humour.
The ensemble work is powerful, tying the work together with movement that is often percussive, of high battements, twisting leaps and whipping, winding outstretched arms. One section, representing a one-way street perhaps, has the dancers moving in the one direction across the stage in a rolling sequence of movement in canon, finally uniting, only to break away again from unison, the movement’s speed and intensity developing with the music.
The connecting, disconnecting and reconnecting of the dancers is a theme that is repeated throughout, until the work builds to its final moments, as with all dancers on stage every fluorescent tube is illuminated against a now brilliantly lit white cyc.
Originally 80 minutes and in two halves, The Land of Yes & The Land of No has obviously benefited by its condensation into a single 70 minutes which, while still quite long, proves the maxim that less is often more.
– DENISE RICHARDSON