“Wayfinder” is collaboration at its best. Choreographed by Amber Haines and Kyle Page, the production is a fusion of dance, music and visual art. Dancenorth teamed up with sound artist Byron J. Scullin who, in collaboration with Hiatus Kaiyote (a three-time Grammy nominated Australian band), created an aural wonderland.

The opening moments set the tone of the performance. The dancers entered the stage. The choreography was small at first, but grew with intensity and power. Everything from the movement to the music hit a fever pitch before it abruptly stopped—and a mass of yarn dropped from the ceiling and onto the dancers. Their bodies were, now, engulfed by knitted colour.

Another collaborative facet of this production brought in the talents of visual artist Hiromi Tango who was the costume and scenic designer. A core element of “Wayfinder” is Tango’s signature style—her practice explores themes of humanity, sustainability, and nature. Part of her design incorporated a knitted mass of yarn that the dancers interacted with and explored throughout the show. The yarn, in question, was hand knitted by volunteers beforehand. Guided by Tango and design associate Chloe Greaves, audience members had the opportunity to physically weave themselves into the production; what they created would be used by the dancers.

This was not the only moment that integrated the audience into the production. When we walked into the theatre, amongst the rows of seats, there were a number of white orbs strategically placed on a few chairs. The orbs were about the size of a soccer ball and slightly iridescent to look at. As we found our seats, it just so happened that I ended up being one of the lucky few who was assigned an orb. But as someone who hates audience participation, the decision to willingly pick it up was by no means an easy feat.

During the show, the orbs became an extension of the audience; an aural body that existed in multiple parts and extended throughout the space. They illuminated different colours—from white to pink to peach—and sang their own songs (there was an almost invisible speaker at the bottom of each one). They connected the audience more intimately to the performance. The initial personal interaction when you picked it up turned into a conversation with the person sitting next to you which, then, evolved into moments with the people in front and behind you. We shared and passed the orbs around, all wanting each other to have the same experience. Not one person solely kept their orb. Everyone was connected.

Onstage, a number of talents shone. Damian Meredith’s static syncopated movements were eye-catching. His articulation and control of his body are a testament to his technique as a dancer. Marlo Benjamin, too, was wonderous to watch. In a production that is visually and aurally rich, Benjamin was calm fluidity; she injected a sense of clarity amidst the chaos around her.

“Wayfinder” was born out of a desire to feel human connection. Haines and Page wanted to create something that was the polar opposite of what we all experienced during the initial peak of the pandemic. Instead of isolation, they wanted closeness. Instead of monotony, they wanted a kaleidoscope of wonder. And between the collaborations—creators to dancers, dancers to audience, creators to audience—you can tell that none of this was done in isolation. Everything relied on connection, and “Wayfinder” ended in an explosion of colour and joy that was infectious.