Three works-in-progress by Asian dance makers of our region are shown under Forward Shift, a new platform under this year’s da:ns festival. Faith Tan, Head of Dance and Theatre at Esplanade, shares that it is important to introduce audience members to the progress of how works are being made and this is a testament that it really does take a long process to create choreography.
Through the choice of the three choreographers, namely Raka Maitra (in collaboration with musician Dharma), Ming Poon and Pichet Klunchun, the audience is gifted an experience of varied processes, styles and intentions through the night. Surprisingly, though the works all come from different starting points, they form some sort of narrative when shown one after another — coming full circle and allowing the audience to sit with their feelings through the post-show dialogue that follows.
Forward Shift starts off with a glimpse of the inner world of a woman in love, the performance shifts into shared experiences between strangers and finally, the release occurs, with uninhibited bodies breaking free from structure and creating their own language. Or as moderator Charlene Rajendran phrases it, “Trained bodies taken the choice to move, and through that deliberation, create a space we all share in.”
From deliberation to opening up to a sense of explosiveness, I sit through this journey of beauty and the vulnerability as well as freedom that comes with showing an “unfinished” work. Upon leaving, I question, if dance is performed to make one feel something and to evoke feelings — be it pleasant or utter confusion? Can we really call presented works “unfinished” or are they just a first work leading to a second one?
What She Said by Raka Maitra and Dharma
Dancer Sandhya Suresh walks out, her feet carefully landing on the stage floor, no sound to be heard. Her arms follow her gaze, always outwards and pulling you towards her. Like the sun, she travels across space, skin to floor, muscle and bone articulate in telling her story, while Dharma’s music seems to vocalise her unsaid thoughts.
Accompanying her like the moon, softly and gently, performer Elizabeth Sergeant Tan embodies a calm presence that juxtaposes her frantic scrawling of poetry on the black walls. Chalk screeching and sending shivers up my spine. There are many elements at play here, coming together to try and form a coherent story of love. The intimacy is seductive, beckoning the audience to share in this bittersweet emotional journey and to empathise without explanation. The body speaks and the music leaves us no choice but to listen.
The Intervention of Loneliness by Ming Poon
Standing alone on stage, with a sign “Dance with me” may seem like a simple request. However, once the lights on the audience comes on, it is almost like the air left the theatre and a new kind of silence blankets the audience. It is a risk to base the performance pretty heavily on audience participation, especially in Singapore, since we always like to say since we are more shy, more detached and more conservative. However, I applaud this choice and this opportunity given to the audience present to shape this performative experience.
Although messy at certain parts when audience members start going on to the stage with a different energy than what is expected, it is a beautiful and poignant experience to witness. This takes the phrase “dance as if nobody is watching” to a new place of sharing this with another person, and as the title suggests, to intervene with loneliness.
As the song ‘I’m coming home’ starts to play and the audience still on stage slow dance, a heartwarming feeling embraces my heart and it is like a sunset as the light fades away; a slow dance of romance and most importantly, of hope.
No. 60 by Pichet Klunchun Dance Company
Breaking away from the two performances prior, DJ Rory (Elliot Sean William) comes on with his loud electronic music, clearing our palette of sentimentality and refrained beauty born out of softness. The discipline of the dancers Kornkarn Rungsawang and Pichet Klunchun himself astounds and leaves me in awe. Upon walking out to the stage, they set the tone by marking their space ritualistically with white tape. A physical expression of boundaries, traditions and the principles they will be working with from the dance canon of Theppanom.
Meditative, it is an interesting start since one would not normally associate electronic music with the idea of culture and tradition. However, as the performance moves along, I see the process of shedding past inhibitions and the struggle to create something new, something only they know and can know in gestures. Their synergy is undeniable and a magnetic force on stage. Coupled with their seamless flow from firmness to tenderness, my eyes never left them — following their every move and catching onto subtle repetitions, adjustments; an ever-changing dialogue I am privy to.
They left me wanting more, to witness more beauty from chaos and the release from structure, to see how these expressions will eventually evolve themselves.