“It’s an arc made up of all those little bits and pieces that were left over from other works,” he says. “It’s chaotic. It shows the human capacity to create sense and meaning out of things like that.” Needless to say, the work is infinitely more resolved than such a summary might suggest. How does he create a dance work from such varied elements? “I tend to work fairly sub-consciously,” Hamilton answers. “I try to step away, be on the outside; I try to follow the lead, let it guide me and serve the work. It’s not a purely choreographic process or point of view. It’s more driven by a kind of abstract narrative where it’s about getting the arc right – it’s alchemy.” Many choreographers say similar, that from follows content and that their process depends on the work in question; they don’t come at a project the same way each time. “It does vary from work to work and it varies quite rapidly,” agrees Hamilton. “It’s hard to put into words how that happens. Dance is a time-based art form. There’s a slippery sense of time passing, of a moment being in the moment; there’s no fixed place. There are a lot of things to focus on.”
Some of the differences in Keep Everything in comparison to Hamilton’s other works involve a stripping away of production values to focus on movement. “With other works there might be an imbalance, for instance, design might be more important than other elements. Keep Everything is hugely performer-driven,” Hamilton explains. “The content is in what the dancers are doing – I ask ‘what’s my language, what’s my voice with my body? They are the main drivers. That’s really important. The main focus point is a sense of spaciousness; it’s a sparse Spartan ideal.” Three dancers (Benjamin Hancock, Lauren Langlois and Alisdair Macindoe) perform Keep Everything – what informed that decision? “A budgetary concern,” Hamilton answers with a laugh. “A very important idea is to work with what you have. I respond to a situation. Often, in other situations, with non-professional dancers, students, say, on one level it can present a huge problem, but on the other hand you can see it, not as a problem but ask ‘what is the best situation here, what is interesting about these dancers?’ You step outside and try not to be heavy handed but be guided by the work.”
Hamilton hasn’t done away with all non-physical elements, though, not at all. Keep Everything involves ‘a unique and uninhibited fusion of dance, light, sound and image’. We asked him about these aspects of the work. “I’ve worked with these artists previously,” he responds. “This time we’re trying quite different things. The composer Justin Hamilton is my brother and we’ve been talking about doing something together.” Sound design comes via Kim Moyes and Julian Hamiltonof The Presets. Benjamin Cisterneis responsible forlighting design and Robin Foxfor AV design.
Hamilton has a long history with Chunky Move; he was a dancer with the company so he describes the Chunky Move studio as a ‘familiar space.’ Did he not want to perform Keep Everything himself? “Not for this one,” he answers. “I do still perform and I get the occasional performance job with other choreographers but I’m having a break from performing to focus on making work.” He has a couple of other works in the pipeline, a ‘formal’ piece exploring a choreographic technique developed over the last five years involving the mechanics of choice; Hamilton describes it as an ‘essay’. “It’s a study; I hope it’s not too dry but it needs to be presented in a formal way.” As a visual artist Hamilton is very concerned with the visual design elements of his work so in another vein altogether for future projects he’s looking to make work which isn’t driven by the one hour time-frame performance model but is rather informed by the visual experience. “Like performance sculptures,” he says. “The moving body is an integral part of the sculpture.” There is a work in development for next year’s Dance Massive festival in March. Watch out for that. In the meantime who in Melbourne’s contemporary dance arena excites him? “Atlanta Eke,” he responds instantly. “I’m an avid fan.” No surprises there. “And I like the work of more established practitioners like Lucy Guerin. It’s a tight-knit community here in Australia,” he says. “We all know each other’s work.”
BY LIZA DEZFOULI
