Common People Dance Eisteddfod 2024 | Common People Dance Project
The Common People Dance Eisteddfod was a Brisbane-sized RIP-ROARING LAUGH AND COLOUR RIOT. An explosion of all kinds of talents, an unapologetic psychedelic theatrical display of original storyboarding, artistic creativity, and a collective human-confetti of diverse shapes and shades sashaying and shimmying in all sorts of styles. The stage was set ablaze for almost two hours with seven completely unique and fiery choreographed sequences by Brisbane’s local communities and beyond.
With English alternative rock band Pulp’s song, “Common People” blaring from the speakers on full blast, select teams from Brisbane as well as those from Ipswich, Bayside and the Sunshine Coast took to the stage to declare their battle-readiness. From the moment I entered the arena for this gladiatorial dance battle, I knew that ‘Let’s have fun!’ was going to be my war cry, too. Dressed in an assortment of sartorial sensibilities ranging from a blindingly brilliant sequinned showiness and in-your-face neon leotards, to drab but silently dangerous 80s office workers’ wear, and rock-and-roll denim punk radiating devil-may-care vibes, the dancers boogied their wild hearts out, bringing their characters to life with unabashed conviction, and a palpable commitment to the cause of winning a dubious-looking assemblage of a trophy.
Their passion-driven dramatic and dynamic spectacles of embodied storytelling fuelled and filled the hollowed belly of South Bank Piazza with the most effusive variety of high-energy pizazz. If Queensland suburbia were a mood board or a smorgasbord, this dance-off would be IT. In Gen Z speak, the performers ate and left no crumbs.
In its sixth edition, the Common People Dance Eisteddfod project is the oh so beautiful *chef’s kiss* brainchild of founder Neridah Waters. Premised on the promise of providing a platform for people from all walks of life to come together and express themselves through multiple modalities such as developing storylines, deciding on song choices, making and using props, costume-designing, choreographing, (whoa, what a mouthful, really) and so on and so forth, I was and remain truly personally blown away by the power of dance-making.
Image: Joel Devereux
An especially memorable and ridiculously clever showcase of standout creativity came in the form of a crazed swooping magpie dance set to Metallica’s ‘Enter Sandman’. where a group of territorial magpies taunted an unsuspecting cyclist complete with his helmet sporting a mohawk of cable ties . This segment by the winning ‘Westside Best Side’ team’s spoof of a potential advertisement by Queensland Tourism was markedly ingenious considering it’s actually peak breeding season for magpies right now. The stellar presentations by the other teams did not in any way pale in comparison. They had me in stitches as the competition unfolded in all its outrageously hilarious glory.
The message of the evening was loud and clear – dance was and is for everybody and EVERY BODY. Every single team served and slayed in its interpretation of its respective chosen theme. Every fibre of their being seemed to scream cries of unadulterated joy. I felt it all as they took me on a time-travelling, blast from the past journey through music - the ultimate container of our lives’ milestones, trajectories, and moments of unbridled happiness, insufferable heartaches, and everything in between of what it means to be fundamentally human.
The eclectic combination of soundtracks morphed into the vehicle that drove this eisteddfod into a night of feel-good entertainment. Neridah Waters’ invitation to get the audience on their feet for a spontaneous dance class was the perfect final touch to the night. It reinforced the message of inclusivity in a playful manner. With her trademark humour, including moves like Deagon Deviation, Lutwyche Lasso, Camp Hill Clicks, we all were able to master the routine on the spot. These curated moves named after suburbs in Brisbane made me think of the ways I connected with and moved within and through these locales and made me feel like I was part of a larger community in Brisbane, even if it was just for a fleeting moment.
As someone who is into her ninth year of living in Meanjin (Brisbane), this show was the city’s way of letting me feel her throbbing pulse. I had, for the most part of my first-generation immigrant experience thus far, perceived her to be a reticent country town whose pace, for some unfathomable reason, was bent on holding me back. Perhaps, I should learn to let go and let her take the lead in my own tricky tango with her.
To quote Dance Captain Neridah Waters’ wise words, ‘The real winner is dance.’ I could not have agreed any more. It was a privilege to have watched dance do its thing both to and for people, especially the extraordinary common people of our everyday lives.
‘The 2024 Common People Dance Eisteddfod’ was held on 21 September in the South Bank Piazza as part of the 2024 Brisbane Festival.
