Blizzard, Nat Cursio Co photo Rachel Bernhaut |
The show opens with confidence and an entrancing sensorial scheme. We are seated in a circle and asked to keep our eyes closed for the initial 10 minutes: a prompt that transforms the vast Newport substation into a nerve-tingling and purely aural field. Sounds are born in the darkness: body-generated, mingling with the whoosh and rumble of nearby trains; sporadic squishing; a rhythmic shuffle of someone—something—prowling about. Alert and somehow prepared by a slightly fearful awe, we open our eyes. The image before us holds something of the sublime.
Head down, the nape of its neck exposed, hair dragging over the floor, a dancer/creature advances in hypnotic slowness into the circle’s centre and out. Its lithe muscles ripple under lunar light; its palms slap the floor; its husky, bronchial purr is in equal parts sleepy, menacing, sensual. What creature is this?
A biped with searching feelers follows, then the intricate undulations of some kind of grub, both with faces averted downward. The enchanted focus of a nature documentary is engendered here. The creatures convince us, with their reconfigured anatomies. At best, we forget we are watching people (then remember); a sensibility beyond the confines of our own species may arise. It’s a beautiful spell, but soon broken.
Blizzard, Nat Cursio Co photo Rachel Bernhaut |
Blizzard, Nat Cursio Co photo Rachel Bernhaut |
Just one moment toward the end unites the three dancers, as they gradually find and hold each other’s hands. But it is overdue, too slight and fleeting to mean very much. The great moments, in fact, are played at the start, through bold use of aural and sensory space, and the hushed arrival of that faceless, purring creature as it forges its path.
Blizzard, choreographer Nat Cursio, performers Alice Dixon, Melissa Jones, Caroline Meaden, The Substation, Melbourne, 30 July-4 August
See Philipa Rothfield's preview of Blizzard in RT's Online e-dition July 24
This article first appeared as part of RT's online e-dition 4 Sept, 2013
Jessica Sabatini is a writer of fiction and arts journalism who has practiced various forms of dance for 15 years with a growing interest in interdisciplinary practice and theory.
RealTime issue #117 Oct-Nov 2013 pg. web
© Jessica Sabatini; for permission to reproduce apply to [email protected]