Thin Paper, Autonomous Synapses, Nomads, Tokyo(ing) is not the first iteration of the choreographic material, which gives this work a sense of maturation. There is a deep engagement with an iterative nature within the work and references to past versions are visible echoes. In a world driven by the reproducibility and repetition of online video, it is refreshing to see a dance so interested in change.

This work is drawn from a 2020 piece titled Fog, Nerves, Future, Ocean, Hello (Echos) and also recently returned to New Zealand from Tokyo, after which it was reworked again.

As you enter the space you are greeted with five chairs spaced clinically and evenly in a row overtop a shimmering plasticky surface secured over the width and breath of the stage. The stark white lighting feels clinical, and the stage sits ominously, feeling just a touch like a kill room – except for the sparkling and reflective floor. Instead of physical programmes we are given scripts with the text we should expect to hear (on which there is a QR for a digital programme).

Sean MacDonald enters the stage, and it instantly fills with his unobtrusively rich presence. He commands the stage and our attention with ease, preforming a somewhat gestural solo where each movement crumples into the next. It is punctuated by text that is both poetically abstract, obtuse, and cheeky. He addresses the audiences directly several times, breaking the fourth wall and asking us to witness in particular ways. He concludes by announcing that the show is going to begin now and explains that his performance was his interpretation of choreographer’s Kota Yamazaki original solo.

Sean exits as the five dancers take to the stage for the remainder of the choreography.

Through most of the work each dancer is performing different material as simultaneous solos that shift satisfyingly into duets, trios, or group unison. These clever moments where suddenly everything clicks into place sit as a high point for the somewhat wandering performance. The strength of the material is its use of layered difference to create a cohesive togetherness. The movement demonstrates how each body identifies itself in relationship with the space and the other bodies present, which activates the conceptual material the work suggests. The often gestural and mechanical movement vocabulary is supported by poetic text further elucidating these ideas; “this space is my body” and “I don’t really exist, but I try really hard”.

The chosen movement vocabulary holds slight references to Butoh and seems to intentionally flatten dynamics, instead, relying on the unique choreographic structure to build

 energy. The effect is a somewhat monotone experience, where I was left wanting for more climatic energy.

As the piece progresses the plastic material overlayed on the stage picks up the footprints of the dancers, leaving traces of their presence and experience in the space. A written record that the dancers existed – that they were inhabitants within the objects of their bodies. In conclusion, dancer Cecilia Wilcox lays on the floor and recites a final monologue, “I will try to synchronize myself with this chair and become an object for 30 seconds”. In doing so, she poetically sums up the core question driving this work: how do we become who we are?

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