Things open where they began, in a loop, only I don’t know it yet. In measured steps, Angela Goh walks diagonally across the stage. She studies the audience, her focus fixed, unblinking. Upon an exposed, brightly lit stage, it could be said she is comparatively exposed, but her unflinching focus says otherwise. In the quiet of the Sylvia Staehli Theatre, at Dancehouse, for the opening night performance of “Sky Blue Mythic,” you can hear the noise of the traffic outside. In a work that “is about our relationship to what surrounds us,”[note]Angela Goh, “Sky Blue Mythic” Artist Statement, Dancehouse, https://www.dancehouse.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2022/03/Sky-Blue-Mythic-Artist-Statement.pdf, accessed March 12, 2022.[/note] the stream of traffic on a Friday night adds to the feeling that Goh has walked into the theatre almost by chance. Cap on, and a tall orange can of Papaya drink in hand, did Goh take a wrong turn and find herself in a symbolic labyrinth on a walk back from the shops?[note]In reference to Goh’s Artist Statement, “I could write about many things, not limited to: the Romantic Ballet “Giselle”, Tarkovskyian cinema, the Japanese anime Sword Art Online, the brilliance of Borges’ Garden of Forking Paths, the perfection of Malevich’s Red Square.”[/note]
Lien copié dans le presse-papiers
Performance
“Sky Blue Mythic” choreographed and performed by Angela Goh
Place
Sylvia Staehli Theatre, Dancehouse, Victoria, March 11, 2022
Words
Gracia Haby
Angela Goh in “Sky Blue Mythic.” Photograph by Prudence Upton
subscribe to the latest in dance
“Uncommonly intelligent, substantial coverage.”
Your weekly source for world-class dance reviews, interviews, articles, and more.
“To move through a labyrinth is to explore an unknown space.”[note]Ethan Weed, “A Labyrinth of Symbols: Exploring The Garden of Forking Paths,” https://www.borges.pitt.edu/sites/default/files/1808.pdf, accessed March 12, 2022.[/note]And to move through a labyrinth of ideas, as opposed to a physical labyrinth, is one where symbols take on new meanings. A sundial is a portal to the supernatural; “an avatar is adrift in an unknowable but familiar setting, …[and a body is] an interface of flesh searching for new ways of being.”[note]“Sky Blue Mythic”, Dancehouse, https://www.dancehouse.com.au/whats-on/sky-blue-mythic-angela-goh/, accessed March 12, 2022.[/note] Goh falls to her knees, before landing on all fours. The can rolls from her hand, spilling the orange liquid on the stage. Both the fall and spill are as measured and precise as the steps that preceded this tumble. This fall and spill, it transpires, are a part of the loop destined to repeat. A glitch, at first, later interpreted to be a warning about history repeating itself and warning signs missed.
This new full-length version of the work, which was originally created for and won the 2020 Keir Choreographic Award, is my first experience within the labyrinth. As Goh, seated on the floor, begins to size up the audience as an artist before their subject, squinting their eyes, simplifying the values of the scene all the better to know it, I can’t help winking-blinking back. Goh’s winks slowly shift and take on another possible reading as she enters a trance-like state.
Just as Giselle emerges “from the shroud of death and assumes a new species of existence,”[note]Fanny Elssler’s debut as Giselle, as described in The Morning Herald, and cited in Ivor Guest’s Fanny Elssler: The Pagan Ballerina (London: A & C Black Publishers, 1970), 198–99.[/note] this is and isn’t (a reference to) the ballet, “Giselle.”[note]Goh on “Sky Blue Mythic”: “Curtains open. There is no dance being performed on the stage. The dance that is not being performed is a ballet, Giselle. The backdrop is medieval, and the elements are super natural. It’s Act 2, and you know that someone died at the end of Act 1.” http://angela-goh.com/works/sky-blue-mythic/, accessed March 11, 2022.[/note] Goh hops in arabesque, a nod to the furiously frightening turns that mark Giselle’s first appearance in the netherworld. In her Myrtha-moment, Goh bourrées across the stage, tracing the otherworldly passage of time. An extended fourth position lunge, feet parallel, tips things over into another realm once more: this is and isn’t “Giselle.”
Now, Goh is a hawk hovering above prey, undeterred by the wind. Possibly. Or am I on the seafloor? On a carpet of brittle stars and bristle worms, in an adapted resting state. Is that a soft-bodied cephalopod containing the vestiges of internal shells alongside a handful of gems for Goh to scatter? Perhaps. Could that be a translucent organism, an erenna, comprised of hundreds of tiny zooids working together to make a bioluminescent red light?
The lights pulsate red, blue, green. When the bright white light of the beginning is restored, the colour takes a while to fill in the present forms. As Goh repeats her fall and spill, this time facing away from the audience, it feels as though the stage has spun without my knowing, in culmination of a simple, haunting transformation.
Malleable as an octopus, meanings distort. Flexed wrists wing outward, in mesmerising Giselle wrinkles. To break the known-perception loop, humans need to not just “consider the systems we are part of—ecological, social, technological. We must break from the dangers of human centrism in favour of caring for the tangled relations that make up our more-than-human worlds”[note]Goh, “Sky Blue Mythic” Artist Statement, Dancehouse, 2022.[/note] because nature is not a resource to exploit, nature is kin. “I imagine if we acknowledged that everything we consume is the gift of Mother Earth, we would take better care of what we are given . . . how we think ripples out to how we behave.”[note]Robin Wall Kimmerer, “The Serviceberry,” Emergence Magazine, December 10, 2020, https://emergencemagazine.org/essay/the-serviceberry/, accessed March 12, 2022.[/note]
Gracia Haby
Using an armoury of play and poetry as a lure, Gracia Haby is an artist besotted with paper. Her limited edition artists’ books, and other works hard to pin down, are often made collaboratively with fellow artist, Louise Jennison. Their work is in the collections of the National Gallery of Australia and state libraries throughout Australia to the Tate (UK). Gracia Haby is known to collage with words as well as paper.
All too often it seems the human memory is too short. History is easily forgotten and, in a week where Americans are still processing the results of the presidential election, it is hard not to feel like we are doomed to repeat ourselves.
Eyeballs, screaming crones, and bloody axes were projected on a scrim at the top of American Ballet Theater’s new production of “Crime and Punishment.” Not bad for Halloween programming! Yet, despite Isobel Waller-Bridge’s cinematic, pressure-cooker score—which frequently evoked escape room music—there was very little suspense in Helen Pickett and James Bonas’s new narrative full-length.
Antony Hamilton is on the move. When he answers my Zoom call, the world-renowned choreographer is at the airport about to board a flight to London. This isn't a vacation, though: the Australian native, who is also the artistic director and co-CEO of Chunky Move, a Victoria-based contemporary dance company, is traveling with the troupe on their latest Europe and U.K. tour.
Records are for keeping. A record of the past in permanent form, an account. An official report. The sum of past achievements. The best, most remarkable event of its kind, a world record, no less.
comments