Reviews of WHETU - , the Matariki Short Works Tour 2010
WHETU
ATAMIRA DANCE COMPANY At Hawkins Theatre, Papakura
29 June 2010
Reviewed by Briar Wilson for Sidestep
To celebrate Matariki, the Maori New Year, Atamira salutes both the past and the future with a collection of short works – to make you think, smile or feel sad and, also, to amaze.
Moss Patterson's Te Whenua is part of Whakairo and starts with a group clustered in dim light in a back corner of the stage in expectation of the birth of a child, a group moving to an ancient chant on the process of childbirth. A scream and the baby has arrived. The next section has the dancers moving amongst each other – interweaving, flowing with the sound of waves in the sand; they finish by forming a cone of bodies centred on a carving and as individuals moving in harmony for a common purpose.
Moonlight Sonata and Helping Hands are excerpts from Maaka Pepene’s Memoirs of Active Service. The Moonlight Sonata is Glen Miller’s Serenade that Pepene’s grandfather and grandmother would have danced to before he went off to war. It is a charming duet which nostalgically explores the rhythms of that classic big band piece. The second piece is of three guys, ready for war in Italy, showing their agility and how they work together, practising their fighting moves as if they were working up a haka.
Don’t Feed the Man Fish from Cathy Livermore starts with bodies in dim light writhing on the ground. They roll out to show movements that speak of resistance, search and struggle – calling on the gods? Calling people to fight? The music used is a distorted version of a melodic song that epitomises the island home and community, lost because of global climate change - that the dance is about.
Tuhoe Whakapapa from Nancy Wijohn is her exploration of the genealogy of her mother’s iwi through what she learnt from a book, and is a work in progress. The figures are shadowy at first, clad in simple black, the men with bare chests. When the dancers come on in white collarless shirts and black skirts/short leggings, they could be school children doing as they are told, or regimented like soldiers. Gradually they move more as individuals, interacting with lifts and throws, perhaps as they became people Wijohn knew.
Mauri was choreographed by Stephen Bradshaw for Atamira in 2003, and is now reworked and shortened. Another piece to start off with a tight group, this one with a focus on arms reaching up - into the void? to gradually resolve into flowing lines – moving apart, but still together – and not without power as we hear rain, heart beats, and finally, breath.
Jack Gray described his piece Solace, as being a duet of two lovers – but it is not a happy duet (unlike Pepene’s); again, it is one that starts in dim light and they move to acknowledge the loss of love when someone dies. Some of the movements were drawn out like groans, against harsh sound. They move together, each with a black cloth around the head, and, but never touch each other.
Dolina Wehipeihana’s The Starlight Ballroom is completely different, recalling the 1950s dance hall in Hamilton where her father went – properly dressed up in a suit – or copying the Fonz - and where the girls wore cinch belts, flat ballet slipper shoes and cotton skirts bouncing out over full petticoats. Rock and roll, the twist, jive and the live singer doing the Elvis thing on the mike. Another nostalgic look back.
Then comes another contrast – He Taura Whakapapa – part of Charles Koroneho’s Waimirirangi - Wiping the Sky - a full length piece created in 1990 for Taiao Dance Theatre. First we see just Taiaroa Royal’s hands grasping an egg shaped smooth stone before we see him clasping it, moving under it, over it (despite its weight), not in struggle but more like an embrace. After the Auckland season, Koroneho explained the interesting background to this stone (another story), and he said then that for him the stone, a chipped rock, was Maoridom – he or his family or a rangatahi were the chip and the rock was a seed, a seed in the regrowth of Maoritanga. The stone was so heavy, it could barely be lifted, but it is lifted.
The stone is then lashed with four strands of rope to become an anchor and held by two of the dancers to keep tension as the other four each take a strand to weave amongst each other, faster and faster, as they weave the ropes into a fourplait . Then the end of the plait is suspended as if connecting the stone to the sky.
Koroneho here borrows nothing from pakeha culture – unlike the other pieces where contemporary dance may meet with maori cultural motifs – but the work speaks to pakeha as well as to maori.
Atamira is to be congratulated for letting us see this small masterpiece again together with the newer and the new. The show lets us sees the power of Maori culture
WHETU
at Telecom Playhouse Theatre, WEL Energy Trust Academy of Performing Arts, Hamilton from 16 Jun 2010 to 17 Jun 2010
Reviewed by Sue Cheesman for Theatreview
http://www.theatreview.org.nz/reviews/review.php?id=3187
WHETU embraces Matariki (Maori New Year) in the shape of a short works dance programme which journeys from birth through life to the future. In so doing it cleverly charts the lineages of Atamira dance company.
A collection of six different choreographers’ works are represented, including four excerpts from longer pieces. The protocol set up means that the choreographer or a member of the company introduces each work. This gives the opening night Hamilton audience further insight into the ideas and theme of the pieces.
Te Whenua, choreographed by Moss Patterson, begins with a birth intensified by cries of the dancers huddled in a circle. This transforms into dancers grouping and re grouping, using a motif where one dancer turns another dancer’s head with the resolution always being a turning roll into the floor, reminiscent of the spirals in kowhaiwhai patterns. One moment that stands out is dancers repeatedly climbing and tumbling slowly over one very grounded stationary figure, showing a cascading tangle of shapes. This figure seems to be the anchorage to the earth.
Moonlight Sonata and Helping Hands by Maake Pepene are two selected vignettes which serve to snapshot very different parts of the longer work, Memoirs of Active Service. A playful duet between husband and wife is sharply contrasted with a trio of service men in Italy going through their paces. Personally I would have preferred one longer excerpt to more fully embody the ideas.
The programme states that Don’t Feed the Fish Man, choreographed by Cathy Livermore, is a contemporary Polynesian dance theatre work around climate change, an important issue for Pacific nations. The last section is performed, and its focus is on future generations. The movement content is different and more abstract than the above works, and makes an interesting contrast.
The music by Imogen Heap underpins the theme and reinforces the messages through the text. Sharp contrasts in movement dynamics clearly signal the turmoil future generations face with the loss of home islands. The final clawing of layers from their bodies, ending with an out stretched hand, makes a powerful poignant statement.
Tuhoe Whakapapa, by emergent choreographer Nancy Wijohn, is billed as a work in progress. This piece begins with dancers entering along the ground from the side, sliding, turning, oozing as body parts rise and fall across stage. This seems primeval and from this clump two dancers (male and female) in tight embrace evolve. They are transported across the line up of bodies to front stage, signalling that these two are important figures.
Several striking tableaux are witnessed, one where these two central figures are intertwined around one another framed by five dancers in a strong-grounded stance. The dance builds to a separation of the two figures; one being carried upside down bent kneed and flexed feet while the female dancer is up on the shoulder of another dancer in a defiant pose.
In sharp contrast, the second part begins with a solemn processional entrance with dancers wearing Victorian clothing. When all seven dancers have entered there is a moment of stillness and reverence, giving a sense of collective power.
In sharp contrast the Starlight Ballroom is light hearted, entertaining and celebrates an era of going to dance halls for romance. This piece gives all performers a chance to be playful and enjoy the exuberance of youth. The ‘boys’ – Maaka Pepene, Jack Gray and Paora Taurima – are especially cheeky and impish.
Gorgeous puffy aquamarine skirts made by Ila Wehipeihana steal the ‘girls’ limelight. The audience chuckles at fact that the Starlight Ballroom and associated pie cart is in Hamilton. Costuming throughout the show is of a particularly high standard, successfully varying and enhancing the individual dance works.
Charles Koroneho’s work, He Taura Whakapapa, created in 1990, certainly stands the test of time. Including this work at the end also points to a wider lineage of Maori contemporary dance, traced through Stephen Bradshaw (although not represented in this show) and Charles, being founding members of Te Kanikani O Te Rangatahi and Taiao Dance theatre.
The piece opens with a sparse, sculptural solo strongly performed by Tai Royal. A giant 80kg rock appears centre stage and the dancers’ fingers are drawn towards this. We witness these giant phalanges – almost lizard-like – caress, cradle and balance on the rock. A moment is captured in a single image when Tai is in a deep squat, cradling the rock in his arms as if humans and nature can be as one.
A large rope with four strands is tied to the rock using a traditional lashing technique. The rock is shifted down stage and is masked by two dancers sitting.
Four dancers up stage, each with a strand of rope, physically weave the rope under and over, building the intensity as they get faster and the rope gets shorter. Calling out to one another, the dancers spur this on as the growing four-strand plait slowly evolves and grows up stage. The physicality of the weaving is stunning to watch, and resultant image of the woven rope is beautiful. The music fades in and out for me, with the sounds of nature, water and birds capturing my attention.
Concluding this journey and piece is a striking elemental image of a suspended plaited rope anchored on the ground by the solid, smooth, heavy rock, symbolic of a woven whakapapa. This last image is beautiful as the light fades on the rope: earth and sky connected.
WHETU
at Telecom Playhouse Theatre, WEL Energy Trust Academy of Performing Arts, Hamilton From 16 Jun 2010 to 17 Jun 2010
Reviewed by Terri Ripeka Crawford for Theatreview
Tirohia atu e ko nga whetu, e ko Matariki, e arau ana.
A still and crisp eve in Kirikiriroa; the energy of Te Whare Tapere o Waikato is subdued, but a willing audience gathers for the second night and variation programme of Atamira Dance Company’s Matariki short works tour.
Six sections of work by established and emergent choreographers present a diverse selection of style, wit, slapstick with function, expression and deeply embedded historical narrative.
Mauri
Mauri (2003) by veteran choreographer Stephen Bradshaw is a work exploring the concept life force, of the void, the earth and the interconnectvity of people to the land. Motifs include functional and elemental life force ideas. They are mostly enjoyable, simple, repetitious and layered. Cathy Livermore leads the ensemble out with assertive presence to form a single centre line and canon delivery of outstretched movements. The choreography in this section seems ineffective and lack-lustre.
The final part is high energy; a centrifugal force is created with dancers like orbiting molecules using immaculate footwork such as gruelling tipatapata and twirls that work towards a heightened sense of mauri.
It is good to see this re-crafted shorter length work of only 12 minutes. Although not portraying a total sense of mauri, its solid original soundtrack by DLT with committed physicality by the dancers provides a commendable performance.
Moonlight Sonata & Helping Hands
Two pieces from Maaka Pepene’s Memoirs of Active Service (2006) are a good choice for the short works tour. Jarod Rawiri’s voice over is full of ihi, as he articulates a passage from the memoirs of Maaka’s koroua who was also a 28th Battalion member. Glen Miller’s ‘Moonlight Serenade’ soars into the hearts of all who enjoy the era of that great big band sound.
It is a suspense filled moment as we wait for the lovers duet, danced by Paora Taurima and Gaby Thomas. Their articulation of one of my favourite Atamira Duets is technically and emotionally a paler shade to that of the 2006 debut performance and 2009 tour of this piece. However it is good to see new dancers take on these difficult works. The anticipatory style of Pepene’s movement technique within this duet is always a sight to behold.
The men in Helping Hands are strong and athletic. These principal male dancers deliver a unified and polished performance with a vibrant presence from Jack Gray and Maaka Pepene.
Solace
Jack Gray’s lovely duet Solace (2003) is the memory of the known and the unknown; the physical void where love once was; the aroha of son and father; the bluey gray divide of spirit felt and unseen. Bianca Hyslop plays spirit past and present and delivers an enigmatic performance as she embodies a sense of timelessness.
Behind her careful articulation of Jack’s liquid style motifs are exquisite and expressive eyes that deliver the dramatic edge required. Although Paora does not quite embody the imagery and sensuous nature of this work it is good to see him back on stage and his performance potential renewed.
Tuhoe Whakapapa
Tûhoe moumou kai, moumou taonga, moumou tangata ki te Pô.
Te Tini o Toi! Welcome to the stage emergent choreographer Nancy Wijohn and her Tuhoe Whakapapa (2010). The embryonic stages of Toi manifest from the earth – Toi the original being, the original people. Imagine the nurturing natural density of the Urewera forest so clean, dark, fresh and raw… Embryonic roots branches and leaves form the ancient ones, of sky and earth.
In section one, Tai Royal and Gaby Hislop perform a beautifully grounded and sculptured duet as the quintessence of Tawhaki, he that strives for higher knowledge. In this version of the quest. Tawhaki is perished and bleeds from the 3rd heavenly state onto this earth.
Section two is inspired by whakapapa charts of 30 generations in floor patterns with complex linear movement for the female dancers. This exploration is representational of the dearth of matriarchal lineages included in early ethnographies by Elsdon Best.
The final section explores deliberate movement, the survival of a people, connection to ancient lore, tipuna, tipua and the struggle to retain tribal knowledge.
The Starlight Ballroom
Dolina Wehipeihana choreographs humour with collaborator/ actor Waimihi Hotere in a fun, hot little number that synergises tunes, moves and teenage crush antics from the 1950s and the Cambridge Starlight Ballroom (2008).
Paora and Jack are great fun in this piece. It’s quite a joy, and the tamariki in the house just thought it was the ‘bees knees’ as they laughed hysterically upon Johnny Too Cool’s, too cool Elvis impression! Watch out ladies, Johnny’s on his way to your town.
He Taura Whakapapa
He Taura Whakapapa (1990) by veteran choreographer Charles Koroneho is a timeless work of art from a larger body of work Waimirirangi. Taiaroa Royal performs a riveting solo with strength and maturity and a sense of tipua and amphibian like extremities.
He Taura Whakapapa has an edge over all the works of this programme and is enhanced by the exquisitely printed costumes designed by Marama Lloydd. A stone to punga transformation completes this uplifting ceremony. The sense of another world is created and restored, our voyaging ancestors and our connections to the universe are anchored, and our mind body and spirit realm reconnected.
Look to the stars and the gathering of Matariki and enjoy a successful year ahead, Atamira!
