Pipedream - Blue Room Theatre Presented with Brent Rollins & STRUT Dance (17 October 2024)

Water. An element that sponsors strong memories such as darting through sprinklers as a child on a hot summer's day or that unmistakable smell coming off baked tarmacadam at the first good downpour. The sensation of downing a glass of cold water to soothe a parched throat or luxuriating at the feel of it on your skin in a shower or pool or at the beach. Most times we take it for granted. Until it becomes scarce. Precious. Yearned for. A situation that has become far too prevalent for many in regional areas as drought grips the countryside. A crisis that grows ever more dire. 

This original, hourlong contemporary dance performance choreographed by Brent Rollins explores the impact of relentless drought on the people who must endure it. A country boy who grew up on a farm, Rollins brings lived in experience to vividly portray the moods such a predicament engenders. There are clearly defined sections like movements in a symphony that cover a gamut of emotions as the two performers - Sophie Sibbons and Natassija Morrow - dance, glide, and cavort across the main Blue Room stage. 

Now, I'm in no way qualified to talk about the technical aspects from a dance perspective. What I can discuss are all the elements used to present a compelling narrative that captured my attention, held it, and had me appreciating the beauty of the human body in motion in service of a coherent theme. 

That thematic intent begins before we even walk into the theatre proper. Each audience member is invited to dunk a small glass into a bucket of water and pour it into a funnel connected to a pipe. It's a simple act but one that is tactile and communal which sets up what is to come perfectly. 

There's a telling juxtaposition as we go from the flow of water in the foyer to the sound of sporadic dripping. The two performers are silent and still on the floor, next to empty buckets begging to be filled. A lattice work of white piping is suspended overhead. To one side of the stage is a clutch of pipes of varying length and width that appear like a rickety picket fence that cleverly opens to allow for the retrieval and storage of props. The floor is painted to represent the dirt of the land but with concentric circles which hint at the cycles involved. The set design by William Gammel has some other surprises, one of which involves a high level of trust between the performers and stage manager Jasmine Valentini; another depicting a brief respite before the cycle will begin again. 

The lighting design by Jolene Whibley is stunning in its representation of never-ending harsh sunlight or heat infused nights to the prospect of rain to the eventual storm that finally comes. It also bathes or shades the performers to enhance the evocative nature of their movement. The thought and execution of the lighting plot is matched by the soundscape and original score by composer Azariah Felton. Each section has a distinctive style and beat as we move from moments of despair and frustration to the joy of a country dance and the exuberance of play as a distraction to the boredom inflicted by stifling heat. At one point metallic tapping echoes across us in what I took to represent the inside of an empty water tank. Then there's the howl of wind sweeping across the arid land that opens the performance, deliberately unsettling and effective. 

Sibbons and Morrow work incredibly well together. The tenderness and trust between them is palpable. I loved the intensity of their connection through unflinching eye contact and their expressiveness in celebrating joy amongst the adversity. A sequence involving plastic bags reminded me of a famous beat from the movie American Beauty - there is beauty in the simplest of things... even if it's catching blowflies.

Each gets a highlight of their own - Sibbons in a sensual exploration of the feel of even the smallest drops of water against the skin; Morrow in a precise navigation of the water levels literally falling towards her. Their synchronised movement reflects the mood of any particular sequence - sombre, playful, joyous, elegant and there is an interesting burst of what felt like blame in literal finger pointing as their interactions become more boisterous towards the end. Depicting the highs and lows of surviving the harshness of the environment means this journey feels authentic and earned. 

Dance isn't usually something I attend so I didn't really know what to expect walking in. I was more than impressed with the high level of execution across all facets that created a cohesive and arresting work that was memorable. There are only two more performances at The Blue Room Theatre, 18-19 October. Well worth a look. 

*photos by Sophie Minissale