First Nations Fashion: Walking in Two Worlds | Grace Lillian Lee
Ultimately, First Nations Fashion: Walking in Two Worlds succeeds in creating something that stirs emotions, restores power, speaks truth, celebrates culture while displaying First Nations fashion labels. It decolonises an industry that is ripe with racism, classism, and sexism, and replaces it with a sense of hope and harmony.
Weredingo | Karul Projects
“Are you coming as a human or as an animal tonight?” a well-dressed guy asked us as we descended into New Benner Theatre at Metro Arts on Saturday night. “Animal!” I said without giving myself the time to process the question.
Arc | Australasian Dance Collective
Arc was the first show of ADC since November 2019, and it was a remarkable post-pandemic lockdown comeback. It took place in South Bank, in the grassy area set against river and the cityscape as background. It is not often that you can enjoy the inviting feelings evoked by the Mercurian feet of dancers moving on soft grass.
Snapshot | 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.
Yang Liping’s Rite of Spring | Peacock Contemporary Dance Company
Surely, it’s one of the most illustrious and unpredictable experiences any audience-member will have in a theatre. It lurches from the patient, meditative opening to moments of almost pure anarchy. Golden light gives way to pure darkness. Dancers attack and exhaust themselves – euphoric and terrified. It’s a lot.
But, throughout, I kept returning to the ideas of Rite of Spring. That question.
What’s the impact?
Bighouse Dreaming | Declan Furber Gillick
Bighouse Dreaming is the type of work that reminds one of the simple, devastating power of a well-crafted drama … a work that leaves you gasping for breath through sheer storytelling and performance craft.
Giantess | Cassie Workman
[Giantess] is neither scandalous nor tragic, although it offers poignant memories as punctuation to the tale of a little girl, kidnapped by a troll, who will not be released until she finds all the answers, and faces up to her fears. And the answer is revealed through a beautiful show presented as a comedy, but actually a more nuanced performance with storytelling, spoken word, and a fluctuating line of parable.
Daddy | Joel Bray
Joel is a master of charming and working a crowd, but we are never allowed to get comfortable in Daddy. Presented promenade style, Joel weaves and dances around and through us and speaks to us directly throughout … He invites us to get involved and it’s always clear that we can opt out, but this may not be the show for you if you prefer to enjoy live theatre separated from the performer in the comfort of your seat.
The Bluebird Mechanicals | Too Close To The Sun
The Bluebird Mechanicals may be one of the tightest, most considered and deliberate works I’ve ever seen. There isn’t an inch of the show that doesn’t feel like it’s been refined and distilled to its purest, most impactful essence. It knows exactly what it wants to say and exactly how to say it. But, the work’s choice of vocabulary and materials in articulating its ideas are so removed from the norm that, again, it can only easily be described as weird.
Tyrone and Lesley in a Spot | David Megarrity & Nathan Sibthorpe
A co-production with Metro Arts and Brisbane Festival, David Megarrity and Nathan Sibthorpe’s Tyrone and Lesley In A Spot is a ukulele-led dance of screen and song that transports you on a whimsical journey of small discoveries through laughter.
Common People Dance Eisteddfod | Common People Dance Project
Through sheer force of will and an encyclopedic knowledge of 80s choreography, Neridah has created the impossible – the dance off to end all dance offs that citizens from all sides of river and all walks of life could enjoy. Comprising of at least seven choreographed routines, three celebrity judges, over 100 performers and a competition where cheating is encouraged, it became the hottest ticket in town.
TRUTHMACHINE | Counterpilot
Each audience member had to vote first on questions relating to what truth means to them personally, before assessing whether or not they thought I was telling the truth under investigation. The whole idea of truth was under investigation. And the audience was forced to ask themselves, does this even matter anymore?
En Masse | Circa
I adored the scene early in the first act when the cast were tumbled across the stage, blown by the howling winds of winter. This was easily some of the best tumbling I have ever seen, full of energy and purpose, no movement repeated, high-level skills interspersed throughout but not repeated just to garner applause. A fabulous scene.
Dust | DanceNorth
The dancers worked in a choreography that was reminiscent of robots or possessed creatures, it was creepily effective, heads and limbs askew, almost aggressively presenting an internal animosity, a struggle between self and a rogue body.
Umami Mermaids | Anna Straker
The perfect piece to wander across at a festival, in a dark corner where you think there be rainbows and friendly creatures of the deep, but there are only ghouls and destruction and wanton betrayal, and slighted ladies who smell of seaweed and ageing fishes, who bide their time until they can wreak their delicious vengeance.
Yothu Yindi and the Treaty Project & Yirrmal
This is truly political music. Music that heals. Music that challenges. Music to dance to. Music to rise up with
Biladurang | Joel Bray
The set is intimate. Obviously. The whole room is five meters by ten. We are offered terry-towelling robes and champagne. It is true, I have been to parties and illicit liaisons like this before, these same mundane walls, the art that becomes commonplace in these holding pens, these anonymous rooms where people stay when they are in-between places, meeting nameless others.
Hamnet | Dead Centre
Children. You cannot trust them. You cannot trust them to know the appropriate etiquette. They might ask you anything.
I just came to say goodbye | The Good Room
The audience rippled with trepidation for a minute, when they said this was a lock in. That’s right, my friends, once you are in you must stay in. And if you leave you can not come back. A fitting physical metaphor for the unfurling darkness ahead.