Where: Dancehouse, Melbourne, Australia
I went to see Luke George’s performance NOW NOW NOW at Dancehouse, North Carlton. Here’s a little bit about what I thought…
NOW NOW NOW
Luke George. Seeker of all things nigh unquestionable. Playing with the stimulation of the present but consistently bounded by muscle and mental repetition, George and his collaborators lay before their audience the conundrum of portraying “realness”, simultaneously being in and of the moment yet existing in the wider world. It seems that no part of the postmodern idiom was left unturned when grappling toward realising this fundamental concept.
It is not a new artistic notion, moving from a point of instantaneousness, yet George has aired his ideas in a way that see the dancers develop a sense of bravado in attacking their sense of the NOW. Staged improvisation has lost its niche here, and in its place George has ironically developed the “now” into a performative environment. But could that succeed? George seems to have maintained honesty in his conveyance, though I can’t help but feel the rehearsed models are well in place to simulate those captured moments of “realness”, which are irrevocably fleeting.
The babble of unrest begins even before entering the space. The audience treads, barefoot, along the white carpeted corridor eventually ejected into a bright, white space, three figures colourfully clothed, moving slowly but irreverently on their own.
The playful sense continues as dancers Kristy Ayre, Timothy Harvey and Rennie McDougall (Luke George suffering from injury was unable to perfom) bump, shuffle and coyly glance at their viewers. Ayre, padding through her feet approaches a distracted Harvey venturing into a close, intimate space with him. His vacant eyes don’t waver, his world is off somewhere else, completely unaware of the female presence in front of him. All three dancers are absurdly dressed, aiding their humour; McDougall with a Velcro American Indian headdress and breast plate, Ayre with shin and genital guards and Harvey in flurecent hues.
Minutes pass. Mutters occur through the audience. Giggles. The dancers change, one by one, modestly, honestly, sashaying into a line and expectantly facing the audience. The whole introduction has been a pregnant pause, a precursor to something amazing, something that will burst… But instead the energy recedes again, the anticipation cooling into the audience. This rise and fall had no disappointing ending. Eyes tethered to the three individuals who seemed both vacant and present. Shouts echo through them, splitting the silence, breaking their bodies into projection: NOW NOW NOW BROWN COW MEOW MEOW BROWN NOW NOW NOW!
The dichotomy that George seems to be navigating through is an interesting one. Silence verses sound, real verses rehearsed. The evolution of these factors remains the key turning points to the performance, just as the audience feels they’re losing their connection it’s snapped back, awakened and reinvigorated. This subtle interplay makes this performance exciting in its unpredictability and keeps the viewers, if not the performers, in the moment.
George’s use of props, of sound, of stimulation is nothing if not considered. The blankness that envelops particular moments becomes merely the forefront of assault. An audience member is plucked from the audience, given a headset and instructions. She blithely and awkwardly moves around the stage, shyly glancing at her peers, growing more confidant in her pedestrian instructed movement. She becomes a severe contrast between the three performers, yet she is the epitome of existing in her moment – without a conscious directive.
This volatile, smooth and sexy performance was constantly engaging, constantly seeking and demonstrating. Each moment of the performance, the performers were giving of themselves. Their training, their technique, this “realness” they sought seemed an elusive concept to capture. Was it realness for the performers or for the audience? Is there a “realness” purely inherent in that exchange? What ultimately determines that level of success?
Humour never diminished from this absurdist performance. Whilst unreachable, each performer became more endearing to the audience and the constant glimpses of ‘the moment’ the audience perceived and participated in heightened the sense and created a well developed, well delivered and constantly evolving work. I am curious to see what Luke George will come up with next time.