Jess Olivieri and Hayley Forward and the Parachutes for Ladies
PACT Theatre
date: Monday 8 March 2010
facilitator: Kathryn Gray
participants: Ashley Dyer, Susan Gibb, Anne Kay, Jess Olivieri, Sarah Rodigari, Emma White.
Dance of Death was a participatory performance presented as part of the Tiny Stadiums Festival in Erskinville, 6-7 March 2010. We staged this Free Association conversation the following evening in the nearby PACT Theatre, and there were interesting challenges involved. As the work was physically absent (present solely in our recollections) and was repeated within the public space and with different participants each time, for this feedback we were remembering different iterations of the work. In Anne’s case, she had missed the performances altogether, and recreated the artwork alone in the dark theatre space prior to the discussion.
The discussion began with recollecting our individual and collective experiences of taking part in this work.
Eg. Kathy:
On a hot Saturday afternoon I started with my walk from Newtown along Erskinville Road to approach the festival. Located Jess facilitating the Dance of Death in front of the Town Hall. She stood behind a desk where you signed away the disclaimer, gave your ID to collect your audio guide, and instructed you to wait on one of the plastic chairs set up in rows facing each other on the footpath. When I arrived there was a performance session in process, so I followed these participants a little way to observe them moving and dancing down the road. And when it was my turn I sat down amongst a small group of people, some I knew well, some sort-of and others not at all. I recalled one of the first instructions was to look ahead at and smile at each other. It was a warm introduction to the process, and countered nicely the modest technical frustrations involved in synchronising a collection of different people and their audio guides. We were first taken through a number of instructions, for breathing, stretching out our bodies in the public space, shaking off our worries, and setting off – safely – down Erskineville road together.
The work is ostensibly instructions, soothingly spoken against an ambient music background, delivered to each participant via large black headphones and a standard-issue mp3 player. These audio instructions guide your participatory experience for about 20 minutes. Dance of Death sends you down Erskineville Road and across side-streets, directs you to walk confidently and skip, to crouch into a circle with your group and perform basic dance/yoga sequences together. The work builds in intensity as it draws to conclusion. The audio track becomes intense, driving you dancing together around in circles at the place you started. It ends with applause – an oblique instruction and self-reflexive critique of your role within the Dance of Death.
Eg. Anne:
I hadn’t seen anything of the performances of Dance of Death, so as a way of being able to participate in a discussion of the work, I came early to the feedback session at PACT Theatre and was given an MP3 player and headphones to enact the work in this location. It was a strange experience, not only because of being displaced physically from the location references to Erskineville, but also because I was doing the actions on my own and off to one side from other people who were standing around chatting. I didn’t know most of the people and found myself worrying what they might be thinking of me prancing about in the corner of the space. I assumed that I looked quite foolish, but despite this, I began to enjoy following the simple instructions, especially the skipping and making shapes with my arms. It was fun and reminded me of being a kid and how using your body in this way as an adult is not the norm. It had some of the exuberant qualities of dancing in front of your mirror in your bedroom as a teenager.
Back to the group discussion:
We spent some time sharing our recollections of carrying out the tasks, how we worked together or out of sync, how our movements improved with time as we progressed up the street. We often spoke of our response to ‘performing’ in a group in public space. Most people reported noticing their own internal dialogue about what other people on the street might think, but for the most part their consciousness was taken up with concentrating on performing the actions, and trying to get in sync with the other participants. We each noticed different nuances of the public context. Sarah pointed out trepidations in getting close to the hedge and the ground beneath which was not so nice and clean, but Kathy remembered being glad of the shade and the proximity to nature. Ashley described the resonance of the dance in relation to the passers by on the street, something which was different for all of us.
Another feature of the work that received a lot of discussion was instructional voiceover. We particularly noted the phrasing, dulcet tones and gentle muzak background. What we were asked to think and do was reminiscent of instructional recordings for teaching yoga, meditation or ‘new age’ practices. The irony and sincerity of this approach generated debate. We also identified cadences in the work, in which we were alternately encouraged to relax and to action; chided for our failures to help others and affirmed that “I believe in you”; and stirred to aerobic/shamanistic movement. We agreed there was considerable vulnerability involved in this work, as a solo and collective performance experience in the public space. However the headphones and audio track provided some relief/protection for participants and encouraged us to really engage with their imaginary journey.
We considered our complicity within the work following instructions. Dance of Death required you to cooperate, and to swiftly abandon normal public behaviour to become part of the performative spectacle. The instructions directed your actions and tell you how to think and feel. Early in the work you are led into a small park to stand face-to-face with a hedge. You are there temporarily isolated from your group of participants to reflect alone with your shortcomings, coaxed through an implausible string of self-help metaphors and affirmations, to find yourself enacting tears running down your cheeks to the soil.
Concluding the feedback, Jess talked of some of her intentions working with Hayley and the Parachutes. They were interested in exploring different authoritative voices and play, what we could be impelled to do within power-structures and civic spaces. Their instructions were kindly delivered to reassure and affirm, yet test limits of our comfortable participation. Behind this work, they have been researching group behaviour and the confusion of public responsibility. The audio track, instructional text and the public site-specific performances were also considered part of a narrative journey which was enabled and reiterated by each participant and passer-by. As such, Dance of Death continues Jess and Hayley’s investigation of the territorialisation of spaces and the responsibilities of our actions there.
http://www.parachutesforladies.com/
