A world where past, present and future are one, a world of ever-changing dawn into noon, noon into evening, is wonderfully evoked by the play of light upon the rough, ruched surface of the backdrop (set and lighting design, Jacob Nash and Nick Schlieper). Both the groundedness of Aboriginal culture, its deep connection with earth, and the remarkable longevity of its rituals prior to the Invasion are fully established in many and varied – celebratory, warlike, reverent – ensemble dance sequences (choreographer, Stephen Page). Patyegarang (Jasmin Sheppard), first seen awakening into celebration of the land and its people, delicately and sensuously embodies the soul quality of this living world.
Into this reverie-like existence enters the young Lieutenant Dawes (guest artist, Thomas Greenfield), ironically both a timekeeper and speaker of a heavily time-inflected language. In a positive reflection of the initial story of first contact, Greenfield, the only non-indigenous performer, seamlessly merges with the characteristic choreographic style of Bangarra: bent knees, angular arms, spread toes and frequent ground rolls. Open to connection, Dawes meets first with the charismatic elder, Ngalgear (Waangenga Blanco), whose authoritative presence contrasts effectively with the seeking, respectful mien of the young soldier.
It is with the help of Patyegarang that Dawes begins to grasp how Darug, the local language, works and through the language, appreciate the cultural complexity of the Eora people. What might be perceived initially as a problem by a choreographer, the conveying of a language exchange through movement, is beautifully resolved through several increasingly intricate pas de deux as the relationship between Patyegarang and Dawes develops into intimacy. The most enchanting, thrilling and memorable episode of the production comes as Patyegarang and Dawes watch the stars, a privilege of all human beings. The lovely representation of star patterns, the sensitive score, the flowing dance of the night spirits, the shimmering costumes (Jennifer Irwin) give a sense of how Patyegarang sees the living wonder of the heavens.
A drop-down opened-ended inverted triangle dramatically references the brutal disruption of this visionary world by the First Fleet’s arrival and diagonal crosses the ensuing destruction of the land and people. Inevitably, a reluctant Dawes is drawn directly into conflict with those he befriended and who befriended him, and Ngalgear’s rejection of him, and his kind, is powerfully and disturbingly conveyed through mime. While the performance opened with the enchanting Patyegarang caressing her land it ends with her crushed and a resolute Ngalgear astride the same representative piece of earth. The possibility, the gentle promise of intimacy has been lost: that moment beneath the encompassing stars that lies at the heart of this engaging performance.
Other connections can be forged, as enthusiastic audience response to Bangarra’s 25 years of performance testifies, and maintained by partnering with such sensitive and generous spirits as that of Patyegarang’s dramaturg, Alana Valentine.
