Courtney May Robertson | Rachel Sheil | Ali Clarke | Mary Nunan
the pleasure of stepping off a horse when it’s moving at full speed
Choreography & Performance by Courtney May Robertson
Courtney takes a metaphor for self-control as a starting point for this solo; a rider taming a wild horse. She examines the struggle between embracing one’s desires and regulating behaviour in accordance with societal pressures. Visual projections encapsulate Courtney within an octagon spanning 4m in diameter. Through a combination of poetry, dance and song, she travels across landscapes of personal desires, memories, and conflicts. The space acts like a time capsule; intimate home videos are spliced with samples from YouTube, documentaries and old films. This piece is Courtney’s attempt to embrace the, sometimes messy, contradictions that make up a multifaceted human.
What to Say
Choreography & performance by Rachel Sheil
This piece came from a desire to find something of mine amidst a sea of other people’s work. Feeling overwhelmed in this sea, I decided defeatedly to use what is already there. Through humour, pop culture and a touch of sorrow, What to Say calls into question the “Realness” of the individual. Where am I? Where do I go? Where do I put myself? Maybe if I keep going, I’ll be found…
Multitudes: Future Nostalgia
Choreography & Performance by Ali Clarke
Multitudes: Future Nostalgia is part of a series of interdisciplinary works by choreographer Ali Clarke exploring the kitchen as a space for intense reflection and transformation. Each work shares the stories of performers and community members from their own lives, from family, love, loneliness and hope, all experienced through the lens of the kitchen. This solo dives into Ali’s own relationship with a sense of home and what it means to build future memories.
Slant
Choreography & Performance by Mary Nunan
This dance is not intended to have any meaning. The choreographic structure and improvised content are activated by a woman who slips between modes of speaking and moving. She makes her way towards something that is also a no thing. A palpable no thing, a membrane of connectivity. Maybe some kind of truth. A truth with no meaning. That’s what she’s after.