Dunstan Playhouse, Adelaide Festival Centre,
September
This year’s OzAsia Festival, Adelaide’s annual festival celebrating cultural connections with Asia, has a Japanese focus, into which Leigh Warren & Dancers’ double bill "Dreamscape: slots nicely. Not only are Warren’s own Escape, premiering here, and Jiri Kylián’s Dreamtime, which premiered in 1983, both scored by Japanese composer Toru Takemitsu, but Escape also features Japanese dancer Kaji Moriyama, and additionally was inspired by a visit Warren made with Moriyama to the Akiyoshido cave in Japan.
The program begins with Escape, and the curtain opens on a darkened stage, behind a scrim on which cloud-like projections swirl. Pianist Simon Tedeschi, seated downstage left at the piano, gradually becomes visible. As the light level increases three figures suspended in harness, dancers Bec Jones, Kevin Privett and Jesse Martin, descend till they touch ground. Garbed in civvies, they are clearly meant to be cavers descending into the depths of Mary Moore’s cave-like set, its dank arches shining with moisture. Out of harness, the woman and two men group and regroup, keeping up a continual flow of movement that is intensely lyrical and smooth. A light picks out another form at the rear of the space, and slowly Kaji Moriyama descends from the flies. Bare-chested, and wearing a traditional Japanese black Hakama, or divided skirt, Moriyama evokes some spiritual being: the spirit of the cave perhaps? His long topnot hangs forward, obscuring his face, so we are forced to read his extraordinarily lean and expressive body. Moriyama is one of those rare performers whose movements seem to unravel endlessly. His movements are angular and almost cutting, seeming to give visual form to Takemitsu’s dramatic score: Tedeschi, masterly at the keyboard, clearly feeds off his dancing. The three dancers, in harness again, somersault like weightless astronauts before being hauled back to the surface, leaving Moriyama behind. This is an intriguing and atmospheric new work by Warren, although not yet perhaps fully realized: the relationship between the dancers and Moriyama could be further developed.
Kylian’s Dreamtime, on the other hand, is an immensely polished work that has been performed by many companies internationally. Warren was one of the dancers on whom Kylian made Dreamtime, and his deep familiarity with the work, in addition to the sensitive staging of Elke Scheppers of the Kylian foundation, has resulted in a beautiful rendition. The dance begins in silence, as the three women, Lisa Griffiths, Bec Jones and Lizzie Vilmanis, in gorgeously draped long brown dresses, stand in profile at the back of the stage. Some plastic sheeting is rolled back like bedding being removed, and the dance begins. The women move sinuously together, their smooth movements interrupted by abrupt swivels of the hips and flicks of the wrists. As Toremitsu’s music starts Kevin Privett enters and performs a bold, expansive solo. A series of duets, solos and ensemble works ensue, characterised by strong use of profile and sideways runs, as well as some lovely lifts and languorous draping of bodies on bodies. The dance comes full circle when at the end, the plastic sheeting is rolled out and all three women recline as if going back to sleep.
After watching this outstanding performance of a work of one of the 20th century’s greatest choreographers, it’s a shock to hear that the company has had its Key Organisation status taken away by The Australia Council, and faces an uncertain future. This is a kick in the guts for Adelaide: Warren has been a mainstay of the dance and cultural life of this city for almost twenty-five years. Australia Council, please explain.
- MAGGIE TONKIN