A deeply personal show for choreographer and lead dancer Mikey Sorenson, Enough delves into the sensitive yet highly important topic of depression and mental health, and how it impacts the people of New Zealand. All artists involved in this production trained and currently live in New Zealand, so this is a show for New Zealanders, made by New Zealanders, about a topic that is currently plaguing the people of New Zealand. Depression is a very ambitious yet necessary subject that needs to be discussed in all avenues of society, and what better way to continue opening the conversation than through artistic means?

In the opening scene of the piece, the lead dancer and central figure of the show, Mikey Sorenson, is surrounded by three masked dancers, each a strong symbolisation of depression. Two masked dancers begin to physically manipulate Sorenson, pushing him to the floor, pulling him in different directions and holding him down, as the third dancer sadistically watches. Eventually, Sorenson is held down on the floor by the three masked dancers, squirming, the anguish on his face apparent. The audience discernibly recognises that this is a person in pain, but what can we do to help? In effect, this helps us as an audience reflect on how we may have in the past felt helpless to those experiencing depression. This powerful opening successfully gives the audience a clear view of the pain that those suffering from depression experience.

In distinct sections of the piece, Michael Moore’s spoken word poetry is a very powerful tool in effectively communicating Sorenson’s emotional turmoil. Vulnerable and raw, Moore’s words are a clear expression of the tumultuous unrest of Sorenson’s solo dance. Together they give an intimate, emotional quality that is a standout in the piece. A common topic in Moore’s words is the pain that artists can go through as they expose themselves to the intimate work that art requires. However, this pain is amended as Moore expresses the community that is created from the bonds that dancers have between each other as they work together for the common cause of creating dance. It is a beautiful statement of the dance community holding each other through agonising experiences. The use of Moore’s spoken word poetry is a definitive highlight of Enough.

Enough uses quite a commercial style of dance and music to communicate its narrative. The use of simple choreographic techniques such as repetition and canon, and literal physicalisation of circumstance, such as miming drinking at a party, means there is little left to metaphor or an individual audience members’ symbolic interpretation of the piece. With a lot of repetition, the dance sequences sometimes feel like the dancers are moving for movements sake, and not to present any emotional situation or expand on a symbolic idea. It begs the question; is commercial dance the right fit for such intricate and difficult to articulate topics such as depression and mental health? Is it better to be metaphorical or literal when creating art on the topic of depression? However, the often literal interpretation placed on the circumstances surrounding depression mean that Enough can be more easily followed and understood, which is where many symbolically focused contemporary dance shows on mental health fall short; they can become too ‘artsy’ and are no longer relatable to the general public who have not studied dance and symbolic physicalisation. Enough truly is a relatable exploration of New Zealanders’ experience of depression.

Enough is an interesting dive into New Zealand culture and how we as a community hold each other through the journey that is depression. I applaud the production company Moving Parts for tackling such a sensitive and personal subject.

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On a balmy night in Hamilton Gardens Arts Festival, Enough, presented at the Riverside venue, is set against a stunning backdrop of the sky turning deep blue as night draws in. Music by Jeremy Mayall, choreography by Mike Sorenson, and text by Michael Moore are all interwoven to superbly support communication about struggles with mental health issues, more particularly the choreographer’s experience. This is a gritty subject with personal resonance for this choreographer.

There is very little grass left on the ground which is turning into a dust bowl. As the dancers stir up the dust, especially low to the ground, this only adds to the atmosphere and theme. At several points in the piece, there is both a literal and metaphorical sense of performers grovelling in the dirt.

The dance begins in a slow somewhat introspective way with the dancers tracings arms patterns slowly in the air. There is a distinctive music change and the movement becomes strong and punctuated. The four dancers, the male choreographer and three females (unfortunately they are not named), confidently perform a contemporary movement sequence on all four sides.

The three masked women at one point appear to be the demons in the male dancer’s head, poking, pushing, manipulating, driving him downwards while he tries to resist aptly accompanied by pounding music.

The hedonistic activities of partying, drinking and clubbing all are portrayed at full-on speed through a combination of music, movement and text. This does not end well and the movement beomes disjointed, signalling dysfunctionality and breakdown. With vacant looks and wide eyes, the dancers use a hand-over-the-mouth motif to clearly signal unwellness.

Pawring at the earth movements from the female masked dancers indicate their trying, in many ways, to restrain, manipulate and dominate the male dancer, however he pushes back, eventually seeming to findi hope in the form of friends, family and dance. Subsequently, there are connections made between the dancers, and in one stunning tableau, the three women are wrapped around him in an embrace of support.

The choice of contemporary dance vocabulary that oscillates between literal and abstract dance motifs works well as a vehicle to convey the underlying messages around the issues of mental health. Often, we would see the four dancers perform a sequence to all four corners, anchoring the piece through the use of repetition.

Simple lighting enhances the differing moods well. This piece is well performed and brings to the fore issues of mental health experience which are particularly prevalent in New Zealand society today. 

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It has been interesting and intriguing to witness the development of Mikey Sorensen’s work over the past 3 years. In Bodies Entwined (2017) we saw dancing bodies moving (often very fast), interacting and making shapes and pathways in space. In The Machine (2018) we saw images of how the world can drive and mould us into forms that are incongruent with who we really are. Now, in Enough we see the internal world of one person expressed in danced images; as Sorensen maintains, this work is based on his own struggles with depression.

Hence, we see the struggles with tormenting thoughts, faceless fears, darkness and aloneness, of a person isolated in their own internal world of depression. We also see attempts at overcoming the depression in drinking, parties and nightclubs, with resulting illness and continued isolation… and depression. Until, finally, the depressed person finds a strategy for managing, a position of health and growth, through recognition of the place and the people that make him feel connected, loved, accepted and alive – in this case, together with other dancers, dancing.

Meanwhile, Dr Jeremy Mayall’s varied musical score – at times loud, quiet, hesitant, fluid, clashing discords, nightclub dance music, haunting tones; music evoking moods of hedonism and self-absorption, or determination and growing in strength; and, finally, lyrical and soothing, enhancing a sense of the intimacy of human friendships and caring. The music reflects, influences and appears influenced by the journey that is taking place in one man’s life.

Similarly, the spoken poetry of Michael Moore fills multiple roles, including explaining, in words, what has just taken place – the words ‘after-party’ and ‘aftermath’ stay with me long after the performance has ended. The poetry also provides commentary, proposals of new directions, or provocation for dance action – notably when the dancers take up a series of simple poses and moves that, through group unison, illustrate the spoken images. The concluding  poem enunciates very clearly what this dancer’s sense of home and belonging entails, in terms of routine dance practice, travel, hard work, connectedness and fun; the first person ‘voice’ in the final poem shifts the dance work from one that has dealt with generalised struggles with depression, to one that is deeply personal to the lead dancer.

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