G: a wild performance of your greenest dreams

Considered the Hamlet of ballet, Giselle deals with all spectrums of life even its darkest corners. G is Gary Stewart’s raw deconstruction of traditional Giselle.  The classic elements of death, gender, jealousy, the supernatural, betrayal and hysteria are stunningly captured in this jaw-dropping production. 

A rolling LED screen leads each dancer onto stage introducing each character, lighting the stage a vivid green.   The plot unravels in a flood of green and the stage is suddenly held hostage by this high-octane physical performance. The dancers only enter the stage from the left and only exit on the right.  They move left to right, each dancer as utterly captivating as the last.  

G is highly energetic and immeasurably engaging.  The 11 dancers of Australian Dance Theatre push themselves to their physical limits breathing fire and fresh life into ballet. Hauntingly beautiful movements are suddenly shadowed by the twist and contortion of bodies.  Every movement is explored with a stunning heart racing score of electronic music.  The most enthralling element being the dancer’s expressions.   Anguish, hatred, shock and every possible raw emotion were clear as day to the audience already mesmerised by the explosive choreography.

G is the wildest performance of your greenest dreams.  Showing at the State Theatre for another two nights G will have very few tickets left so be sure to start sprinting to the box office. G will leave you short of breath, wanting to take another hit.  

 

Are we alone in the universe?

A wall of transparent plastic looms in the horizon transforming the State Theatre into a quarantine zone. The stage is dotted with balloons of black and white of varying sizes.  Circular and suspended in the air like satellite balloons whilst others are scattered on the ground like peculiar objects, rocks from another planet.   A dull blue light reflects off the black balloons forming opaque alien heads with luminescent eyes.

Alienation is fascinating theatre from the Perth Theatre Company drawn from the curious stories of Australians who claim to have been abducted.  Writer Lachlan Philpott has cleverly entwined real life interviews into witty and convincing dialogue.  Directed by Melissa Cantwell, Alienation stars Luke Hewitt, Naomi Hanbury, Robert Jago and Natalie Holwood.  Firstly introducing themselves to the audience as their true selves, then slipping into the guise of an abductee or non-believer.  All four actors gave charismatic performances seamlessly switching between the actor and the character.

Holfold plays affable Katherine an odd girl with frightened eyes. She shares her first encounter at an abductee help group.  She is only a child, money in hand on the way to the shop for paddle-pops.  Something draws her down an overgrown lane into a yard.  She walks towards the beautiful caged peacocks, their tails glimmering like gems.  Her eyes grow wider as she recalls the birds gurgling as a small otherworldly being appears.  The peacocks stir, feathers moving and he is talking to her, his lips don’t move, yet she can hear his voice.  Katherine looks up to the audience with those sad eyes and asks ‘I am nothing special. I am not pretty. Why would they choose me?’.  You soften, your heart goes out and you ask could this be real?

Then there is the story of Will.  An accountant played by Jago, just a normal guy on his way to his niece’s birthday.  It is a long drive to his sister’s house.  Time ticks on and Will doesn’t arrive.  His phone is off and night falls into morning. Will is stunned the last hours a complete blank.  He then exists in a trance like state left wondering ‘where did that time go?’.  Nothing makes sense until he remembers.  Driving down the highway, the music stopping and that bright white light.   Will attends the help group to find answers. 

Katherine befriends Will, easing him out his shell in a heartwarming manner.  Will is unsure and untrusting whilst Katherine is hilariously persistent, almost borderline stalking him.   This refreshing dance of playful cat and timid mouse with a romance bubbling underneath makes Alienation utterly human.

The story of Brian, played by Hewitt, was disturbing yet truly thought provoking.  Brian is a typical bloke with a stereotypical bogan girlfriend played by Hanbury.  They are doing well, working in a remote area making good money.  Brian wakes up, watch missing with his wrist searing in pain.  He is bewildered and in shock and then he remembers.  He shares this horrifying news with his loved one.  She laughs in his face and brushes it off.  You don’t really blame her as you think how you would handle such news?  

A series of haunting events unfold, as Brian starts to go mad, a static sound taunting him.  Hard screeches of metal punctuate scenes as their relationship is torn apart by his obsession with the supernatural. He is petrified, anger fuelled by the planted seed of paranoia. You can imagine how this would drive someone over the edge with Brian literally frothing from the mouth at breaking point.

Alienation is the journey of what happens after the spaceship.   When all you are left with is the truth as you know it, that is, if you want to remember.  Whether you are a believer or a skeptic or just a little unsure this production will get you thinking, ‘are we alone in the universe?’.  A touching and comic performance of how we adapt during life’s most earth shaking moments.

Alienation is showing as part of the Winter Arts Festival at the State Theatre Centre until 13 July 2013. 

WINTERING

Wintering is a work by award winning choreographer and dance artist, Aimee Smith. This production was inspired by an artist led voyage through the archipelago of Svalbard. A works touched by many talents from our little city.

The State Theatre Centre is such a beautiful installation providing the perfect setting for Wintering. The front rows of seats perched almost on stage, lending intimacy between the show and its audience.

Opening with footage showing the rawness and purity of the Arctic. Reminding us that this vast expanse of endless ice holds untold stories and beauty. Other worldly sounds accompany the opening visuals. Throwing shadows and grey over the landscape, a blanket of darkness almost plaguing the screen. I could not help but be in awe of this landscape, majestic but so fragile.

A sole dancer appears. Slowly moving forward, then retreats, repeating again shrouded in darkness suggesting isolation, being cut off from the rest of the world. You can only imagine how alone you would feel. Hidden away in the vastness of this part of the Earth.
Another dancer joins the stage and the seasons of the Artic are embodied in the two dancers. Winter moves slowly, the dancers dreamlike and fluid. There was something so sad and touching about their movements. Winter seems to go on forever, the dancers mimicking each other yet seeming to move as one.

Then Summer arrives. The dancers quicken their pace, almost frolicking in a merrier tempo. Their bodies springing to life like flowers suddenly blooming, peering out from under a bed of snow. The ice melts away and sunshine floods in bringing life but yet for only a fleeting moment. An Arctic’s Summer is short, so brief. The dancers’ free limbs quickly snapping back into a frozen state. The wintering taking hold as their movements slow and sadden. They stiffen, the ice setting, Winter returning.

Wintering is beautiful and thoughtful, showing the fragility of such a powerful and primal landscape. I found it very humbling to be confronted with such raw emotions toward a part of the world I really know nothing about.