DANZ QUARTERLY No 3 April 2006

Summer Nights (and Days) at MAU Forum '06

by Francesca Horsley

Set amongst small cottages, warehouses, lawns and trees, MAU’s headquarters at Corban Estate in West Auckland became a home away from home for a number of Auckland dancers in February. For three weeks of hot, sultry nights, dancers and audiences gathered under the cavernous warehouse space at MAU’s theatre and rehearsal space for MAU Forum06.

Organised by choreographer Lemi Ponifasio and lighting director Helen Todd, there were workshops, debates and performances – always rounded off by delicious homely food.

There were four workshops: lighting by Helen, investigating dance, light and architecture; Lemi’s children’s workshop for 6 – 11 year olds looking at performance, sound and visual art; and a 50+ workshop involving body, movement and dance. Visiting Japanese guest artist Yumiko Yoshioka also held a workshop entitled Body Resonance.

Performance was the over-riding quality – arising at every opportunity in the relaxed, informal setting. The opening afternoon began with a breath-taking, haunting performance by Shanghai-based Lillian Zhang on the Gu Zheng, a Chinese zither, followed by a video performance from the children’s workshop. Filmed in bright midday light, youngsters dressed in outsized suit jackets, positioned chess board-style, tilting and arching, navigated air vents from the disused distillery.

Before The Dawn by Yumiko Yoskioka, a celebrated Japanese Butoh dance artist resident in Berlin, opened the performance season. It was truly remarkable theatre. Shrouded in a red, layered, flowing robe, she entered a darkened space, illuminated by two diagonal white cones of sand placed at the front and rear of the stage. Alternating human, animal and bird movement/expression, she transcended time and space in an animistic journey that gave presence to living shapes, old souls and new voices.

Discarding the encompassing tent-like costume, Yumiko’s face and body emerged in a series of transformations and emotions, shifting from darkness into light. Her jaw jutted, eyes enlarged, face almost toothless, her tongue protruded, searched. Later, arms and hands formed curving bird-like necks and faces that explored her prone body, pecking her.

Yumiko then sat with bare back towards the audience, stretching arms across her body, visible wrists and hands becoming hovering doves, fluttering insects, humming bird wings, slow rhythmic waves. It was mesmeric. Later, negotiating the tension between the two cones, she was drawn one way and then the other. Rich in metaphor and symbolism, the cones became the focal points for further captivating sequences. One she explored tentatively with her tongue, as she slowly altered movement and form. The other cone, distant, impermeable, slowly succumbed to her intense focus. Gulping mouthfuls of sand, she then threw herself into it, filling her long hair and costume, transformed into a crone-like figure. Once again, two curving bird necks and faces emerged, touching her stilled body as darkness descended. It was a performance like no other - 80 minutes of inspired creativity.

Turbulence
reviewed by Dagmar Simon

Turbulence was a long Wednesday evening, full of questioning, hilarious moments and wonder.

While the audience was sipping their water or wine, awaiting the performance, Gabrielle New discreetly brought her chicken character to life, moving through the crowd with probing intensity. Jocey Fong acknowledged her Chinese ancestry in Return 2: ritualistic, mystical and presented from a female perspective. Then everybody moved to the large stage to see Min Kyoung Lee’s Know Myself or Thyself – A Speech of Confession. There was no choreographed movement in this piece; instead we were confronted with a sermon, then a confession and lastly a staged interview, aimed at changing the interviewee’s perspective of herself and the world. During the subsequent audience discussion this thought-provoking piece initiated questions about its message as much as about its choice of genre.

Brent Harris’ installation performance created hilarious and absurd moments, making brilliant use of things that happen out of complete chance.  Wilhemeena Gordon’s Public Liability was mysterious, full of interesting movement, which left me undecided whether I wanted more stage lighting or whether it was just perfect in its darkness. In Wrap Me Up – Make Me Happy, Mark Harvey wrapped himself in cardboard from bottom to top while exhorting the feedback that he was ‘looking good’ from the audience. His struggle with the sticky tape was slapstick, while his loss of mobility and resulting awkward movement made for uncomfortable laughter. Matt Gibbons’ solo Random Power was a controlled, relentlessly powerful and skilful presentation in a strange, remote world.

It was then time for a wonderful soup, compliments of MAU, and I had to leave this welcoming ambience to get some sleep. What a shame I missed the last three pieces by Shigeyuki Kihara, Alexa Wilson and Ione Papalii. I’m sure they would have been just as inspiring as the rest of the evening. 

Tutau: Standing in Time

Amongst the Thursday evening highlights was Alyx Duncan’s film Pandora. An enigmatic story of an elderly woman (Kilda Northcott) who on discovering a young woman (Tallulah Holly-Massey) washed upon the shore, carefully restores her life-force. It had an ancient Celtic quality – perhaps a visitation by a Selkie - or a younger self. Once restored, she was compelled to abandon her rescuer and leap back into life. Later in the evening Felicity Molloy performed an eloquent yoga sequence in candle light.

OPUS DEI (Work of God) by Lemi Ponifasio

A large oval field framed by tall silhouetted trees was the ideal setting for Saturday evening’s premiere of Opus Dei – a work-in-progress exploring the theme of mass death committed by perpetrators of war.

Fifteen men and women emerged out of the distant gloom – solemnly pacing in a huge circle, outstretched arms locked around staffs - symbolizing slavery? crucifixion? A light show screened on the distant trees catalogued wars and the warlords of our time, from Nazis to Americans, while a woman in the centre of the circle mounted a ferocious address in German, a chilling reminder of the power of mass manipulation. Further haunting moments followed – a young boy in a kava ceremony quietly annointed himself in blood, a sacrificial offering to the hegemony of war; an electronic double bass producing a tortured sound-score; and a demonic ghost staggeried amongst the performers.

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