Yung Lung

In *another huge bay of Carriageworks, Yung Lung offers yet *another apocalyptic take, this one a hyper dance party from Melbourne’s Chunky Move. 

The audience stands and wanders around a monstrous central sculpture of mashed kaleidoscopically-coloured god-like heads, encircled by a bank of 12 screens showing fractured images of confronting oddities and news media (Kris Moyes).  This is our manic obsession with digital culture.

Chiara Kickdrum’s startling soundtrack grinds through a techno factory of sounds to a trance score which magnetises us to the action on that central rock.  Atop, seven androgenous figures slither and parade in their sparse and fetishistic party gear.  Often they team up, signalling their arms into patterns like a group of ground traffic controllers on speed: it’s like any good communal dance party. Or they titillate us hanging from the rock. 

Maybe we join in (but with COVID we’re forbidden to dance or sing), so we cruise around them and each each other in the dark.

Callum Morton’s set design is central to this nihilistic dance prophecy, lit by Bosco Shaw. The dancers writhe all over the rock face but never leave it. 

Directed and lightly choreographed by Chunky Move’s artistic director, Antony Hamilton, we’ve enjoyed a fabulous dance party, condensed into an hour, but rather a critique of an alienating techno culture, it seems more like a celebration.  Let’s party!

Martin Portus

Photographer: Yaya Stempler

* Martin is referencing to his review of Grey Rhino, playing concurrently at Carriageworks.