Bangarra Dance Theatre
Sheltering
Joan Sutherland Theatre, Sydney Opera House
June 2026
Bangarra Dance Theatre’s Sheltering brought together three works: Glory Tuohy-Daniell’s Keeping Grounded, the short dance film Brown Boys by Daniel Mateo and Cass Mortimer Eipper, and Frances Rings’ Sheoak, first created in 2015 as part of Lore. It was a program that looked back and forward at once, honouring a significant work from Bangarra’s repertoire while bringing emerging First Nations creative voices onto the main stage.
On opening night, Rings offered a warm and engaging introduction to the program, speaking with ease about the evening’s place within Bangarra’s wider story. Her remarks gave useful shape to the triple bill: a meeting of past and future, of established voice and emerging authorship, and of Bangarra’s continuing investment in First Nations artists across generations. It placed the audience in an attentive space before the dancing began, and that audience was notably ready to receive the work. The enthusiasm in the Joan Sutherland Theatre was inescapable.
The evening opened with Keeping Grounded, choreographed by Indjalandji-Dhidhanu and Alyewarre woman Glory Tuohy-Daniell with the dancers of Bangarra. First created for Dance Clan in 2023 and reimagined here for a larger stage, the work considered what it meant to remain culturally and physically grounded in a world increasingly shaped by technology.
The central visual element was Shana O’Brien’s large netted set, first spread across the stage and later lifted, pulled, entered and reshaped. Keeping Grounded was strongest when the dancers were inside the net, caught by it, pressing through it or shifting its weight across the stage. These passages had a compelling visual charge. Bodies appeared held and obstructed by the same material, and Karen Norris’s lighting gave the net a changing presence: at times landscape, at times trap, at times shelter.
There was strong energy in the dancing, and the ensemble committed fully to the work’s grounded, restless physicality. Yet the piece did not always sustain its momentum. After a powerful beginning, the choreographic language began to repeat without always building in intensity. The idea was clear, and the images were often strong, but the work occasionally circled its subject rather than driving through it.
Placed between the two live works, Brown Boys gave the evening its clearest focus. Directed by Daniel Mateo and Cass Mortimer Eipper, with Mateo as performer, the short film considered identity, belonging, cultural inheritance and the pressures placed on young Indigenous men. Its length was exactly right. At around six minutes, it held its shape, said what it needed to say, and left an impression without overstaying.
The film work was superb. Liam Brennan’s cinematography gave the piece a striking visual clarity, finding scale in small gestures and emotional charge in earth, skin, fabric and landscape. Mateo had a magnetic screen presence, and the intimacy of the format served him well. As a bridge between the live works, Brown Boys was concise, assured and memorable.
The final work, Sheoak, choreographed by Mirning woman and Artistic Director Frances Rings, carried the weight of Bangarra history. First created in 2015, and featuring David Page’s final score for the company, it spoke to resilience, cultural responsibility and enduring connection to Country. The sheoak tree was imagined as ancestor, witness and sentinel, holding memory across generations.
The opening moments were among the most striking in the work. Bodies and design elements seemed to form a landscape before us, as though the geography of the stage was being developed in real time. Jacob Nash’s set design was spare and effective, while Jennifer Irwin’s costumes allowed the dancers to read as both individuals and part of a larger ecology.
The company danced Sheoak with seriousness and conviction. Bangarra’s ensemble had a distinct physical identity, and the work was at its best when the dancers moved as a collective force, surging, folding and gathering with a shared sense of pulse. Page’s score remained a powerful presence, carrying voice, atmosphere and rhythm through the work.
Still, Sheltering was not Bangarra at its most piercing. There were moments, particularly across the live works, when I felt I was watching contemporary dance performed by Bangarra, rather than experiencing the more specific and unmistakable charge of First Nations dance held within Bangarra’s own cultural language. This is a delicate distinction, and not one made to diminish the artists or the stories being carried. It spoke instead to the particular expectation Bangarra had built over decades: that its best works do not simply place contemporary dance and cultural storytelling beside each other, but fuse them so completely that the result could not belong to any other company.
In Sheltering, that fusion was present, but not always fully sustained. The program was carefully made and handsomely produced, but at times it felt more considered than urgent. Its strongest moments came when the stage picture clarified the feeling: the dancers working through the net in Keeping Grounded, Mateo’s focused presence in Brown Boys, and the collective force and mournful dignity of Sheoak.
For those who love Bangarra, Sheltering offered much to value: the return of a significant Rings work, the continuing presence of David Page’s sound world, and a clear investment in the next generation of First Nations creatives. It was an evening of integrity and care, even if not every work reached the same choreographic or emotional intensity. As Rings aptly remarked at the end of the performance, the dancers “take us through the light and shadow of our experiences”.