mi:wi

In this dance-based work, three performers create images of past and present, of strife and healing, of separation and intimate attachment, of flight and the earth, and, recurring throughout, the central thread and motif, that of unravelling and weaving.  These three women are strong, womanly dancers, their bodies emphasised by Peta Strachan’s white costumes, their movements emphatic and sharp, yet graceful, evoking a stream of emotions in their audience. 

To quote the program note: ‘Choreographer and dancer Taree Sansbury… re-connects three Indigenous women through the practice of traditional Ngarrindjeri weaving.’  In this, Ms Sansbury had the help of Phyllis Williams, a Ngarrindjeri elder, and one feels all through this piece a connection to the earth and fleeting but strong echoes and references to traditional indigenous dance, but completely integrated into modern forms.

At the start, one dancer, alone way upstage, picked out by a stark cross light, struggles with a bond that disappears into darkness.  She rises, leaning back with all her strength against her tether.  It’s an image of attempted escape, but from what?  We sense that it is the past.  The struggle diminishes, but she is not defeated and, even still tethered, a sudden transition to a bird tells us she can fly…

The very large space of the Northcote Town Hall’s Main Hall is bare except for a small screen made of vertical strips of fabric.  Non-specific images of the sea or rock formations are projected there, along with images of traditional elders weaving vessels of containment.  The dancers are Taree Sansbury herself and Calcena Sansbury (who are Kaurna, Narrungga and Ngarrindjeri women), and Katina Olson (a Wakka Wakka and Kombumerri woman).  At times they move separately in pools of light, but more often together, creating fluid tableaux that most often suggest yearning, searching, reaching, but also giving, unifying and supporting each other.

The lighting design by Cheryn Frost is wonderful; its detailed intricacy is smooth and always at the service of the dancers and what they seek to convey to us.  Alyx Dennison’s sound design develops across the piece’s sixty minutes: at first harsh, percussive and insistent, it modulates into something more lyrical until we hear human voices too, lifting oppression and preparing for the final sequence. 

There the three dancers quite literally weave those tethers from the start – now there are three cords that they plait together, strengthening that bond to the past but making a connection to the present.  And that is what the whole of mi:wi is: a weaving together of past and present not just as an expression of identity but as a means of survival into the future.  This is a most impressive work, its components beautifully integrated into a moving and fascinating whole. 

Michael Brindley

Photographer: Greta Costello