Screwed
The final evening of Screwed dance festival brought a vibrant and diverse evening of dance to the intimate setting of The Bunker theatre.
The collaborative quartet that makes up anthologyofamess opens the event with their work ƎɅOLVE. The piece is a twenty minute endurance test of continuous motion, growing in intensity and speed as time ticks by. Four simultaneous solos gravitate towards or retreat away from each other. Their compositions and relationships with each other and the space constantly shift and continuously intrigue. Even as the stage is flooded with darkness the dancers blindly battle through their exhausting amalgamations. The only thing that will stop them is a glaring white light which reveals the still and sweat drenched quartet.
Sam Pardes presents her unsettling autobiographical tap solo, What Have I Got to Show For It? Pardes natural wit and humour creates a paradox as she describes her constant battle with the dance industry. Her brutally honest confessions about her anxiety, panic disorder, and financial pressures are sprinkled with some showbiz razzle dazzle. The phrase ‘the show must go on’ comes to mind but with rather darker connotations.
Ryan Munroe’s Love me in chains – part 1 – Gal Dem tackles cultural appropriation head on. Two female dancers adorned with cut up denim shirts and sports leggings take on a playful childhood naivety as they negotiate their new surrounds. Munroe’s choreography explodes with energy as his dancers perform a unique and exciting movement language that references an assortment of urban dance styles.
Another female duet follows with They by Cher Nicolette Ho. The duo fearlessly throw themselves around the space to keep up with Ho’s dynamic choreography. Two seemingly trivial jackets take on a life of their own with Ho’s clever choreography. Unfortunately, the work’s purpose seems to meander and the foundations of the movement become predictable. But, Ho’s clear creative vision for this piece provides a strong basis for development.
The highlight of the evening comes from Orley Quick and the Hairy Heroines’ As We Like It. Quick’s trio of male dancers light up the stage with their charismatic exploration of gender. Games, witty humour, and complete prop anarchy leave the audience in stitches as Quick blurs every gender boundary imaginable. The trio pokes fun at stereotypical gender traits with clothing, props, movement, and speech. Tyrrell Foreshaw gives an unforgettable performance as he seductively slink across the floor, outrageously flirting with crowd as he bounces into box splits. The work has a refreshing outlook on a subject which is constantly being bogged down by emotive implications and political correctness.