Show brings back dancing dreams
Legwarmers don’t make a choreographer
Once again, Palmy was spoilt with topclass visiting performing artists — but do we always appreciate it?
Here’s a statement to get your eyeballs in a jive and your laughter lines in a quick step. When I was a kid I wanted to be a journalist or a choreographer.
That’s right, astonished reader. Judith, who had never taken one dance class in her life, decided she wanted to design dances and boss dancers around.
This was the days of Fame, the film and TV series that followed the lives of performing arts students. Didn’t everyone want to dance like Gene Anthony Ray and Irene Cara, not to mention Jennifer Beals and Kevin Bacon? Somewhere, deep inside my tree-trunk legs, I knew I would never be able to but I believed I could create the moves.
Ahh, don’t forget the legwarmers — mine were hand-knitted with maroon and white stripes. They improved the appearance of anyone’s legs.
Chris de Burgh’s Don’t Pay the Ferryman was great for leaping around the lounge when no one else was home.
And then the lightning flashed, and the thunder roared
And people calling out his name And dancing bones that jabbered and a-moaned
On the water.These days my bones moan going up the stairs. There is no leaping.
It was with as much anticipation as a Swiftie heading to Melbourne that I set off to watch Footnote New Zealand Dance’s contemporary dance double-bill in Palmerston North last Thursday.
Deirdre Tarrant founded Footnote in 1985 and it has rightly had its name in lights ever since.
Airu Matsuda, Cecilia Wilcox, Veronica ChengEn Lyu, Jacob Reynolds, Peniperite Fakaua and Deija Vukona were superb with their physicality, timing and execution. The troupe leaping over a dancer on the floor had to be seen to be believed.
Telling a story using one’s body is the complete opposite of what a
journalist does (thank goodness). I tip my legwarmers to choreographers Holly Newsome (Advance to Go) and Forest Kapo (Premonition). Pre-teen Judith would never have dreamed of even one of the moves they created.
Once again, Palmy was spoilt with top-class visiting performing artists — but do we always appreciate it?
Emi Pogoni composed the music for both dances. It was too repetitive and beat-focused for my sensitive ears.
I didn’t understand why both dances needed such low lighting — contrast would have been great.
Did I understand the two works? Honestly, not really, but I did understand how good these dancers are. Plus, the clue is in the title of the show IYKYK — if you know, you know.
The programme is itself a work of art, folding out into a poster-sized photo of Advance to Go.
The mixed-age audience clearly appreciated the short show. A Q&A session or a mini-workshop on a couple of steps would have added more value.
My choreographing dreams won’t even rate a footnote in my obituary. But remember my name — it’s at the top of this column.
Postscript. I’ve just emerged from my think tank (some people refer to it as a shower). Between using those non-recyclable pesky brown bottles, I realised being an editor is like being a choreographer.
Columnists salsa to meet deadlines, contributors cha cha to do their best work and I pirouette to keep all the moving parts oiled.
I feel it coming together.