This young woman’s thoughtful dance defies saying. Or much writing.

Along with early and pitiful sounds of a child murmuring sleepily, the slish sound of old running shoes on concrete, the stridency of the one-in-the-audience who left their phone dial tone on, repetitive but not-quite-in-time-slaps against a hip bone and against another hand, this piecemeal soundscape fits well with the evening’s brief performance. A stranger crescendo of Prokofiev’s Romeo and Juliet, Op. 64: No. 13 Dance of the Knights plays out of Kosta’s cell phone, sprung on us right at the end of the work, cleverly juxtaposing an ethereal state between western theatre and oriental themes.

The work was originally developed during an artists’ residency at SpaceVac, Mullae, Seoul. 

White floor. Pale yellow walls… and a dog ambles through. Josie enters tall and

Josie enters, tall and lankily clad in a black silk petticoat, turtleneck high up above her eyebrows, a play on height and flesh. 

Balletic legs, swift torsional spine, delicately etched movement, one deep plie to lie into the space of inner leg, and soft swaying to and fro of hands as though brushing rice plants, and perhaps the clearest metaphorical move of all, Josie’s hand as a horse’s tail brushing from her back an imaginary fly… all evoke the sensitive space of recall. 

The informality of the work: at times Josie drops away to another start, resets the solo in moments of respect and contributions of a global traveler. While the programme notes describe this as ‘non-narrative,’ her every movement is a recipe of human empathy and a shared experience of time and space with the body, spartan yet rich as an embroidery of cathartic language.

The simplicity of her movement belies a deeper occasional breakout of lovely virtuosic excellence, slipped in as another exploration of her then and now. Again, I am using Josie’s notes – of her experience of Seoul and the return to a familiar place – dancing in Auckland.