Common People Dance Eisteddfod 3 | Common People Dance Project
When I was younger (and fitter) I absolutely loved to dance. I would spend 20+ hours a week in the dance studio, rehearsing for eisteddfods, concerts, and exams. The dance studio was my second home, but once I graduated high school, I stopped. With the blink of an eye, dancing went from being a massive part of my life to something I only did when drunk on vodka raspberries in the Valley.
Team Sunny Coast. Image: Barbara Lowing. Cover image by Joel Devereux
On Saturday afternoon I went to New Farm Park with dad, and when choosing where to put the picnic rug, I instinctively opted for in front of Bris Fest’s Street Serenades. Queensland Ballet’s Pre-Professional Program dancers were doing a class, and it instantly took me back to my ballet days. ‘Do you miss it?’ dad asked. ‘Yeah, a lot’ I replied. But I had already accepted why I stopped dancing, and seeing these ballerinas cemented that very thing: I was never going to be as good as them, so what’s the point?
Dance Captain Extraordinaire, Neridah Waters. Image: Baraba Lowing
The next day I went to the Common People Dance Eisteddfod. As soon as I walked into the sold-out South Bank Piazza, I was transported back to a school sports carnival – there were banners flying, colour coded teams chanting, and lots and lots of sequins. Videos of performer’s friends and family from across the globe played on the projector, until Neridah Waters (co-founder and MC) took to the stage, donned in Lycra, looking fantastic as ever. She introduced us to the judges - Jackie and Dan - and revealed the much sought after ‘craptastic reverse garbage’ trophy. We then met all six competing teams (Northside, Eastside, Westside, Southside, Sunshine Coast and Gold Coast) before Neridah whipped them into action yelling ‘wedgies out, three finger smiles, take it away!’.
It was refreshing to see people of all walks of life having fun together, and to see real bodies on stage. Although diverse in age and ability, each team committed to the groove. Costuming (created by Amanda Fairbanks) was an all-round highlight – a bonanza of sequins, Lycra and fluro leg warmers. Another highlight was the overall lack of wank that was established by Neridah and upheld by the participants. As someone who grew up doing dance eisteddfods, let me tell you, there is a whole lot of wank. Bringing the wrong-coloured tights is a crime and if you don’t have the latest demountable costume rack are you even serious about dancing? I loved that this eisteddfod wasn’t about perfectly groomed hair and solos from the best dancers, it was about giving it a red-hot crack and having fun.
Eastside serving Love Boat realness. Image: Barbara Lowing
My favourite dance (and the rightful winner of the eisteddfod) was the Southside. Not only were they the most coordinated (a true spectacle given they were the biggest group), but they had the most fun. This team meet up every weekend outside of rehearsals, and their sense of community was palpable. I loved the feminist undertones to this piece; there was a skit where a woman shattered a fabric ‘Glass Ceiling’ over her head and a section where numerous protest signs were raised above the dancers. This added another layer to the vision of adult women donned in Lycra dancing and clapping and shaking and shimmying, and it made the crowd (and myself) go wild.
Southside’s ode to shattering glass ceilings. Image: Barbara Lowing
The Common People Dance Project are redefining who gets to put on a leotard, step onstage, and dance to a sell-out crowd. They’re reclaiming dance as a community event for everyone and rejecting the prevalent definition of dancer. I can’t wait until their 2022 Season kicks off, as after a three-year break, I am buzzing to get back into dance.
Southside, the well-deserved winners. Image: Barbara Lowing
