DANCE REVIEW: Paradise Rumour
07.06.2023, Auckland's SkyCity Theatre
The opening scene of Paradise Rumour is captivating. New explorers looking for new lands, new resources, new wealth, new souls to save. The Pacific was untapped territory…or so they thought. A doctrine had been signed and it was the duty of all and sundry to serve their own interests. One can only imagine that these new explorers were just as captivated when they found Paradise. Strong imagery floating on a sea of mist is a stark reminder that refuses to let us forget. The cloaking of our Aitu is a visceral experience within this picture postcard from our past. Even our spiritual guardians were oppressed.
The provocation for this work came as an extension from an earlier Black Grace work, Gathering Clouds. That work responded to a ‘discussion paper’ on Pacific peoples living in Aotearoa in which the Human Rights Commission found the paper to be “damaging and poorly researched”. In Paradise Rumour, creative director Neil Ieremia asks the question: how far have we really come?
This loaded question draws tears on the faces of those that can trace tupuna legacies, far beyond the arrival of the new explorers and saviours. The endearing sight of Aunty wearing her (long) White (cloud) Sunday hat is familiar. We know her. She ascends closer to heaven, rising time and time again, held back by an idea that we need to be saved. Again, and again. Ieremia’s work reaches out for clarity, amongst the confusion that is clouded by the never-ending barrage of convoluted demands on our people. Pray. Pray more. Pray quietly. Pray harder. Now. Let us pray.
A trio weave a virtual umbilical cord of our Moana, our Enua, our Atua and our Langi. It is a matrix of rituals borne in tradition, bloodlines connecting through oratory, and our resolve to always keep moving. The rhythm is recognisable. An ease calms our breathing and we embrace the knowing hands of this moment in time. It is centuries old and we relate.
The work travels across land and water, through greener pastures into damp homes, with unwelcome obnoxious early morning visitors, and their best friends. The year is 1978, or is it 2023? The dancers, lithe and supple, relive the demons that traumatised a generation. A generation. Marinate on that for a few decades. A swift scent belches into the audience as the stench of fear explodes onstage. How far have we really come?
The soundscape nurtures the stories of this choreography. This marriage of creative minds is well suited. A heartbeat is caught in motion. It is translated into Samoan and Tongan, and the layering of sound triggers some deep, poignant memories. Throughout the audience, heads are bobbing up and down, side to side, and we’ve become a pulse that beats in different time periods. A symbiotic experience had been activated, way before the start of the show.
Our dancers on the night were small in number, yet the texture in their movement sustained and excelled in their endurance. It was a mighty effort. The choreography is intricate; intentions are implicated within acute angles. What lies ahead is a return to square one, and not Paradise.
Ieremia’s considered work offers a new provocation. ‘How far have you really come?’ is not directed to us as a Pacific people, but rather it is being asked of the colonial systems and law makers. It is being asked of the attitudes that throw disparaging remarks effortlessly from their tongues. Either that, or it’s our wishful thinking.
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Creative Director: Neil Ieremia
Presented by: Black Grace
Composer: Anonymouz aka Faiumu Matthew Salapu
Lighting Designer: JAX Messenger
Costume Designer: Tina Thomas
Makeup Designer: Kiekie Stanners