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by Sarah and Jack
Nine
Songs is a dance based on the work of the 'first great poet in Chinese
history', Qu Yuan (c. 340-278 B.C.). He was a member of the ruling house,
a diplomat and a court minister. He had a brilliant career at court but
jealous peers eventually brought about his banishment from court. In later
years after the fall of the Chu capital, he drowned himself in despair
in the river Mi-lo.
Since then, his death has been commemrated every year on the fifth day
of the fifth moon (month), the day of the well-known Dragon Boat Festival.
Chinese communities mark this day by throwing pyramid-shaped rice dumplings
into the river and holding dragon-boat races.
Although Qu Yuan's misfortunes drove him to take his own life, fortunately
for us, they also moved him to write some of the most beautiful poetry
in the Chinese language.
This
production of Nine Songs was intricately choreographed by Helen Lai, and
was accompanied by chanting and percussion music played on traditional
Chinese instruments. In addition, many of the ceramic instruments used
had been especially designed by the composer
Tan Dun for this production.
This mosaic of stunning modern dance, poetic Chinese theatre, a sophisticated
fusion of design, costume, music and movement all combined to produce
an intricate weave of different cultures. Here are some thoughts and reactions
from Sarah who saw the performance recently:
Can
you describe in a few sentences, the initial impact/impression you got?
The dance opens with an unearthly scream. It makes real impact. Beautiful,
but mournful, hellish 'landscape'. Disturbing. Almost like a nightmare
where the poeple are half human, half not: where you half understand what
is going on, and then you don't.
Use of sand throughout dance - pouring from the sky - danced in, held
in hands to pour from. Unfortunately we were sitting near the front so
the dust rose around us. However, this 'discomfort' was positive in that
it drew you closer into the dance. The performers' discomfort was yours
too.
What
did you think of the dancing?
Fantastic. Disjointed. Twitching. The dancers performed so well and with
such skill that at times they were no longer people, but animals, insects,
or just embodiments of the terrible feelings of the lead performers.
What feelings did the music evoke?
It was unearthly, a mixture of human voices, screams, combined with traditional
chinese instruments and other indistinguishable sounds. Words half understandable,
half lost. It was a while before I consciously realised that they were
chanting very slowly in English, with a mixture of Chinese.
What impression did you leave the theatre with?
The dance was very beautiful, but portrayed many feelings of pain, anguish,
desolation, despair. The performers were fantastic. They worked really
hard throughout the performance; really threw their guts into it. The
choreography was very intricate - the smallest movement contemplated and
explored.
How did this performance interact with your Chineseness
(or non-Chineseness)?
Having never been to contemporary dance, it was exciting and wonderful.
On the Chinese/non-Chinese level, it made me feel proud that this performance
was a combination of such opposite poles - traditional story with modern
dance; both English and Chinese influences. It felt as though the best
elements from both cultures had been distilled and combined together to
create something that was perhaps better than a sum of its parts, and
certainly more interesting for it. |