Living and working out in the bush at Leigh must be pretty awesome. Ann Dewey and her dancing ladies have created quite the lush dancescape by taking bits and pieces from mother, nature and Mother Nature and putting it all together with a simple but clever set design and use of prop/costumes.
To get the full effect I’ll definitely have to see this again. (Luckily Spinning Sun is performing Shine Lady later this year at Tempo on the main stage at Q Theatre.) Shine Lady is a dance in 16 parts, with movement phrases and sections based on a grand mixture of ideas. Plate tectonics and microscopic life. Local flora and fauna. Female religious icons and goddesses. It’s all life (natural, spiritual and otherwise) and energy (ditto) summed up and celebrated through recognisable and obscure imagery.
Hands and fingers are stretched and splayed into what could be snail antennae, mangrove roots or sacred Indian diety jazz hands. These are also used to portray the halo of the Virgin Mary, eminating holy light and purity. Ann and her dancers have truly done their homework, and it’s evident they have spent a great deal of time exploring these gestures.
And I just have to say what AMAZING dancers Elizabeth Kirk, Liana Yew and Julie van Renen are. Whether they are moving together, creating a compelling tableau or executing a spot-on unison section, or taking control of the space alone, their performance seems effortless and devoted. Much of the movement vocabulary is made up of very precise, considered steps and gestures that swoop, surge and ping in all the right places. The dancers’ talent and artistry really shine throughout the work.
It is impossible to miss the feminine vibe going off here. Besides the obvious all-female cast, the aire of estrogen is exuded through many outward appearances. The mother, the goddess. The scary she-beast, dangerous and compelling. The exotic thing of beauty, coiled and waiting. The half-crazy prophetess. I remember reading somewhere once that the ancient Greeks believed that women’s heads were full of snakes. Could it be that these ladies heard that same rumour?
The set design by Mike Petre looms in the background like a distant city towering over the vast landscape of stage. It is constructed from a collection of mix-and-match turned table legs (I’m guessing) on top of, under and in between these beautiful light boxes, each bearing a symbol that appears when the boxes are illuminated. A halo, infinity and several others that hint at religious connotations. Flowing, colourful fabrics are used to create images of of holiness, death, modesty, magic and spiritual prowess. Moving without walking. Spectacular.
The music is a real mash-up of old and new, local and exotic, traditional and innovative. Bach’s lilting cello suites are intermingled with the banshee wails and reverb-heavy guitar riffs of young Auckland outfit Bandicoot. I find this lends to the timeless and universal feel of the work; that it doesn’t necessarily take place in any one given time or place.
And in saying that, Ann and her dancers have created something that traverses the realm of the real and the fantastical, gathering up bits from each world and molding them into a physical representation of the natural and spiritual. A palyful (yet utterly sincere) take on the psyche and mysticism of life in all its forms. Snails, virgins, demons and all.
Shine on you crazy lady. And I mean crazy in a good way.
Carrie Rae 26/5/2011