Sydney Dance Company's triple bill, Ascent, presents two world premieres – the company’s artistic director Rafael Bonachela’s new work, I Am-ness, and the first-ever Australian commissioned work by Spanish choreographer Marena Mascarell titled The Shell, A Ghost, The Host And The Lyrebird – alongside a revival of Antony Hamilton’s 2019 Helpmann Award-winning masterpiece, Forever & Ever.
- Ascent – Sydney Dance Company
- Playhouse, Arts Centre Melbourne
- Tuesday 29 August
Following the performance of his own piece tonight, Bonachela appears in front of the stage to charmingly chat to the audience while The Shell, A Ghost, The Host And The Lyrebird’s complex set is assembled behind the house curtain. He bubbles over with enthusiasm for the work he has curated for us, particularly fanboying over Forever & Ever.
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I Am-ness is a beautiful meditation, with four dancers – Madeline Harms,
Naiara Silva De Matos, Riley Fitzgerald and Piran Scott – demonstrating extraordinary groundedness and fluidity throughout. Much of this piece sees them coming together to connect and collectively inhale, before one dancer’s movement triggers a flow-on effect. The technically brilliant dancers seem to move and breathe intuitively – are their heartbeats actually synchronised? – as their bodies artfully carve through space.
The musical accompaniment – Lonely Angel, a meditation for violin and strings by Pēteris Vasks – is elegant, melancholy and longing, much like the controlled unfurling movements we witness onstage.
Bonachela’s piece embodies I Am-ness, which occurs when consciousness and physicality become one.
Marina Mascarell, soon-to-be artistic director of Danish Dance Theatre, is the first international choreographer SDC has had the opportunity to commission in six years. Her new work The Shell, A Ghost, The Host And The Lyrebird utilises seven dancers, who operate an intricate system of ropes, pulleys and sail-like swathes of material, creating an ever-changing obstacle course for the ensemble to negotiate. During one standout moment, material suddenly shifts to reveal a dancer striking an impressive inverted pose, motionless as a statue.
Highlights typically occur when the dancers’ costuming becomes an extension of the moving props thanks to clever set and costume design by Lauren Brincat and Leah Giblin. Composer Nick Wales marries electronic elements with found sound from the natural world – creaking wood, wind and melodic birdsong (lyrebirds perhaps?) – to great effect. It’s all about tension and release, with bodies used as counterweights like they’re manoeuvring the sails of a tall ship.
As we return to our seats following intermission, Forever & Ever is already underway, with the outstanding Jesse Scales performing a prologue solo. They appear to be warming up and practising segments from routines – even busting out a cheeky moonwalk at one point – and also hilariously react to/glare at any individual audience members who deign to cough.
Scales is soon confronted by a mass of menacing faceless figures wearing floor-length hooded cloaks. From upstage right, they ooze on in single file, crammed together and moving in painstakingly slow fashion like chess pieces come to life. A regiment in all-black, with white cones where their hands should be, leads an all-white contingent brandishing fully operational hand-held lanterns, which sporadically flash brilliant beams of light. Anticipation is at an all-time high.
Antony Hamilton’s piece speaks to the fickle, ever-evolving nature of pop culture. Costume designer Paula Levis’ babushka doll concept sees dancers removing and discarding layers throughout – making way for the new – until their final costume, which resembles sporty black undergarments.
The pulsing, minimal techno score, composed by The Presets’ Julian Hamilton (Antony’s brother), acts like a drill sergeant barking out counts. Clusters of dancers lock into different rhythm patterns, skipping around the banging beats like unheard additional instruments. When in close formation, the ensemble moves like perfectly synchronised cogs in a well-oiled machine. It’s thrilling to watch, since one missed count or delayed move could potentially result in a karate chop to the face from a fellow dancer during the rapidfire choreography sections.
During a short breather for the dancers, hand-held laser torches slice through the darkened stage as their hips sway in unison – left, right, lefty, right – like a hypnosis pendulum.
A variation on The Running Man, unison air punching more suited to a rock show – delightful moments of humour and absurdity are sprinkled through Forever And Ever, which infuses punk spirit into rave culture. This shape-driven piece is exhilarating beyond belief and showcases the skill of these dancers to perfection. Even if contemporary dance ain’t your thing, you don’t wanna miss Forever & Ever.
Fun fact: We were delighted to read in Ascent’s digital program that Julian and Antony Hamilton used to make stop-motion movies with their GI Joes in the backyard when they were kids.
