Seasons of Skin and Bark

When Cyclone Tracy made landfall directly onto Darwin at 3.30am on 25 December 1974, it would not be until between 6.30am and 8.30am on Christmas Day, that the winds and rainfall would begin to ease. In the city’s Botanic Gardens, an uprooted ‘cyclone-resistant and waterwise’ Albizia saman (South American Rain Tree) was one of only 10% of the gardens’ inhabitants to survive the devastation. And it is as the base of this damaged, grand old tree, and beneath its magnificent, shambolic canopy that the Tracks Dance Company’s exceptional ensemble create what can only be described as pure theatrical magic.

From the opening magisterial gathering at the base of the tree to its celebratory monsoonal rain-soaked conclusion, Seasons of Skin and Bark crackles with an epic, luxurious, and beautifully considered choreographic invention, powered by James Mangohig’s extraordinary soundscape, which features Larrakia musician Lena Kellie.

Stillness – a greatly underutilised aspect in choreography for contemporary dance – is used here to immensely moving and illuminating effect. Stillness in dance is only possible when the choreographers trust their instincts as much as they trust their ensemble, and the many reflective moments of complete stillness throughout the work are brilliantly realised. They provide us with the meditative opportunity to rest, wonder and absorb our surroundings and the wonder of the many intricacies of the performance unfolding before us. In ‘Flesh and stone’, as just one example, the ensemble collects small rocks from the base of the tree, and these rocks (seeds perhaps?) are not only effectively used as a percussion accompaniment to the dance, but also quite beautifully, eventually represent the path along which we take tentative steps towards the future.

While the choreography certainly boasts moments of grand balletic flourishes –particularly in ‘Plants with attitude’ and ‘Follow the Sun’ – much of the work revolves around a tentative, sensory exploration … as if each of the dancers represent a nerve ending of every leaf and every one of the tree’s tiny branches glittering above us within Chris Kluge’s subtle, unobtrusive and effective lighting design.

Throughout the hour-long performance, the ensemble displays exceptionally focussed levels of athleticism and skill. In Tim Newth’s costume design, the dancers are cleverly dressed in the essence of their individuality. We can see their muscles working, their breathing, their extensions and brilliant moments of powerful isolation. They entwine, traverse, react, respond and engage with the work so immediately, that by the time the performance comes to its intimate, whispered conclusion, we realise that we have just been hypnotised by the wonder and mystery of another exceptional performance by this marvellously innovative company.

Geoffrey Williams

Image: Cast of Seasons of Skin and Bark, photo by Duane Preston.