Snapshot | Polytoxic

According to the Cambridge Dictionary, a piece of information or short description that gives an understanding of a situation at a particular time.

Image + cover image: Jade Ellis

Without a doubt, the Covid-19 pandemic is the single most unifying experience on the planet in living memory. Every country has experienced it, and all have had to make changes and deal, one way or another. Within that, cities, communities and sectors have each had to adapt, and sink or swim. I’m surprising no one when I state that the arts, public performance that is dependent upon public gathering, is one of the hardest hit, and for how long no one can tell.

Well, nature abhors a vacuum, and when you take a community of restless souls who are suddenly bereft of all gainful employment, and who usually solve problems by creating giant colourful edifices, out of the mess of 2020 comes Snapshot by Polytoxic.

Part installation, and part dramatic outdoor performance, Snapshot is most of an hour of lockdown reminiscing, dreaming, recovery, survival and bouncing back. Much of the projections were recorded when Polytoxic sent a call-out to artists to record a message and respond and tell us how they were doing.

Image: Jade Ellis

Combined to absolutely exquisite effect in projections brought together by Craig Wilkinson of Optikal Bloc, we were able to peek into the window of artists lives and share their triumphs and joys in this strangest of years. Part emotional confessional, part self-indulgent community purge, part colourful extravaganza, it was complimented by two talented aerial acrobats. Suspended on abseil lines, Mayu Muto (Casus, GUSH) and Amanda Lyn-Pearson (Crack Up Sisters) spun, twirled, catapulted and ran up the 20 meter walls, throwing their bodies into the projections and adding a dangerous human element to the display.

It felt real good to share the struggles of artists with the audience who likely have managed to avoid the real damage the lack of support is doing to our industry. It’s absolutely insane that the arts has been neglected from up on high when it clearly brings such endless joy, healing, economic benefit, activity, connection and so on. A critique of indulgence was offered by one acquaintance, and I say, sure, but why not, when tens of thousands of artists, techs, venues and festivals across the country are pretty much being left to fend for themselves. I’m not sure what else we storytellers can do to share our ‘value’ with the world, so it felt heart-rending and deeply poignant to see it spelled out in 20-meter-high graphics. And what the hey, I loved seeing their pretty little artist faces beaming out at me, you are all so very special to us all.

Image: Jade Ellis

Two highlights before signing off. Clearly our young Spiderman was a crowd favourite, with his call to grab your own suit and quickly, do some tricks! As he says, it’s easy, just follow along!

And a deeply evocative reminder in a stirring call from Ancestress, that we have all the knowledge we need to survive this and any other troubles. Our First Nations people have fought, and survived, and thrived in spite of every imposition, and we can learn from and take courage and share knowledge and move forward, together, just as soon as we are ready and able. Soon, friends. Hold fast.

Image: Jade Ellis

Nadia Jade

Nadia Jade is a Brisbane-based creative and entrepreneur with a bent for a well-turned phrase and an unerring sense of the zeitgeist. She watches a disproportionate amount of live performance and can usually be found slouching around the various circus warehouses of Brisneyland.

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