Phluxus2 Dance Collective
QL2 Theatre, Gorman House
Season Closed
Reviewed by Samara Purnell
Do you see her lilies and
lotuses…or is she the dragon?
She is part angelic beauty,
part monstrous seductress.
Although these were the
taglines for “Angel Monster”, the production was described as a dance
installation that included sexual violence, which may be triggering.
Assuming this might also include
the audience moving around or participating at various points, it was not
sounding like a particularly light-hearted, relaxing night at the theatre.
Upon entering the performance
space, the audience observed seven bulb-like, white pods, filled with something
to be revealed. The five dancers led audience members around the room, introducing
them to imaginary friends and offering (unfortunately) imaginary drinks. This
appeared to portray women as the homemakers and social butterflies. Or a tactic
to spread people around the space, implying it was acceptable to stand anywhere
around the edge of the floor.
Each dancer moved
underneath a pod and slowly opened it, dumping a mess of clothes on themselves.
The clothes were subsequently spread across the entire floor and constantly
utilised and worn throughout the performance. The significant risk of a trip or
slip made watching a little unnerving but the dancers skilfully avoided any
falls.
Many of the sequences donning
clothes or peeling them off, were laborious for the dancers, some segments with
diffuse meaning, including where two girls pull multiple pairs of denim shorts
on a third, with their teeth. At other times, clever costume changes left
little leeway for error.
Conceptualised and created
by Nerida Matthaei and Phluxus2 Dance Collective, “Angel Monster” used dancers
with very different individual styles, each compelling in their unique way. The
proximity of audience to dancers meant that intense eye contact was possible,
which in turn allows both performer and observer to play with dynamics and
interact in a subtly sympathetic or confronting manner, if this is desired. Unless
seating had been arranged, everyone was to stand or sit on the floor.
Audience members were
asked to aid the performers in removing various articles of clothing and then
to help line up the clothes strewn around the floor. Several of the articles
being picked up were soaked with sweat, which didn’t make for the most pleasant
experience. The final purpose of the resulting crossed lines of clothes
remained relatively unclear.
“Angel Monster” was
refreshingly “non-preachy” or opinionated. It stuck to the description of a
social commentary, without lapsing into judgement or moralising. It didn’t take
an obvious “stand” against sexual predators. The performance was more enjoyable
and subjective being presented this way, allowing individualised observation
and experience of the morphing scenes, movements and meanings being portrayed.
A powerful and varied
soundscape, with exceptional editing, blended and revisited oceanic sounds,
clubbing music, soft beats and spoken word by a girl describing and digesting a
rough, unwanted sexual encounter at a house party.
The choreography was
nicely nuanced, using tableaux, poses, repetition and manipulation to move
between concepts and portrayals including the birth of Venus, sex, objects of
desire and desiring, pain, exhaustion, manipulation, expectation, submission,
insecurity and power.
The dancers used breath
very cleverly and powerfully throughout the performance, utilising the
life-force as organic to sex, childbirth, fear and as an animalistic response.
“Angel Monster” was at
once messy and mesmerising to watch, gradually building the emotional intensity
until toward the end, when the reason for the two previously “unopened” pods
was poignantly revealed, in an unexpectedly emotional scene that moved some to
tears.
By the end of “Angel
Monster”, the dancers were a sweaty, ugly, beautiful, exhausted mess, before
each pulling a stocking out of wherever they had been smoothly and cleverly hidden,
pulling it over their heads and being dragged offstage by their Goddess.
While the obvious
symbolism of flowers relating to females and their parts was reiterated through
the soundtrack and the show’s taglines, the concluding sentiment is that whatever
else “she” may have lived through, “She is a dragon and she will eat you whole”.
