This evening of Resolution! 2014 showcased three very different works: a duet, trio, and quintet with varying approaches to making dance and visions of what dance can be. The first and the last both employed strong colours in their design elements, acting as multicoloured bookends to a monochrome trio in between.

 

Culture Device Dance Project opened the night with I can’t explain and I won’t even try. The title is fitting: two performers spend the length of the work immersed in their own private movement struggles, driven by an attitude akin to the one suggested in the title. This work feels bifurcated: two dancers, two emotional palettes dictated by starkly contrasting sections of music, and reflected in two strong colour choices in the lighting. Simple but effective? Or a little too simplified to be effective? I haven’t made up my mind.

The two performers barely acknowledge one another, each focused on their own drawn-out journey. This is an interesting premise: a duet inherently creates a relationship between the two performers, so what does it mean for those performers to intentionally deny that relationship? But while the work offers up an interesting possibility in this regard, the realisation of this idea is limited; its effectiveness is counteracted by the work feeling overly long, and by my suspicion that this is not what the work intended to explore.


Due to injury, Rachel Burn performed in her own work, Threshold, and stood out as strongest performer of the three. A trio of black-clad women move through different vignettes (‘scenes’) characterised by darkness and light, accompanied by brooding music and sticks of chalk.

Certain scenes are more effective than others: some draw me in, whilst others are predictable, recycling movement ideas I have seen elsewhere without taking them anywhere new. Within the movement languages spanning these scenes, certain gestures jump out and grab me, pulling me over the threshold of the stage and into the work. But these moments are not frequent enough, submerged under a larger movement canvas that could have had greater impact.

The loosely connected vignettes are intended to let the audience create their own narrative, but while I appreciate this approach, I wonder where the line is between leaving space for interpretation and lack of rigour in defining the identity of a work. Ultimately, Threshold feels like a collation of too many choreographic ideas which do not gel together as effectively as they could.


Rag DaysScratch ended the evening. This ‘serious dance work’ was, in fact, the least serious of the bunch, and it knew it. Personal power poses and punches, a desire to vanquish evil (cars), the ability to fit your nom de guerre into a catchy riff, and a snazzy outfit – this is what it means to be a dance ranger.

Part Power Rangers tribute, part comedy skit, part dance-like-nobody-is-watching adrenaline rush, Scratch had a clear identity and was well executed. The five performers carried the work well, eliciting steady laughter from the audience throughout whilst maintaining a commitment to the high-energy choreography. Panache abounded.

Amongst this melee, certain areas were stronger than others: the integration of the more reflexive, ‘dance about dance’ scenes with the rangers’ saga was not always smooth, and at some points the presentation of the text was a little hammy. However, although this overly theatrical approach may have slightly missed its mark on occasion, it was in keeping with the general tone of the work, and did not ruin it.

With a little tightening, this entertaining, light-hearted snappy dose of dance fun could pack even more of a punch. What can I say? I want to be a dance ranger!