When we speak of violations against the body, what comes to mind if not rape, murder and brutality?
In her production Uncle Stan’s Jane and John Doe, choreographer Marie-Louise Basson delves into one of the of lesser acknowledged of these violations: the sexual abuse of children.
One can but imagine the assignment of bringing to light such a weighty issue with nothing but the expressions and movements of the body. We are reminded that it is upon the body that this very issue finds animation, though its long-lasting impact leaves invisible scars.
The performers, who appeared to represent the older versions of their young violated selves, were constantly attempting to rid themselves of a felt shame that clung to and haunted their bodies.
Their movements were restless, their Âexpressions pained.
Throughout the piece the performers repeatedly gestured at something emanating from their mouths, re-presenting perhaps the heaving of an ugly truth. There were moments when the performance lost intensity and certain aspects jarred with the whole. But Basson’s bold choreographic stand was heartfelt, saying much without overdoing it.
An ordeal of violation
In Imbokodo Mdu Mtshali also probed sexual abuse. This time, however, his subject was women and his approach more direct. The start was promising; a naked female figure writhed on the floor of a dimly lit stage. During this act a voice broke out from among the audience. It was that of another female figure relating an ordeal of violation, stating in very clear terms the theme of the piece.
However much the theme needs attention, the piece suffered the misfortune of being delivered with unrelenting force, a visual “philosophising with the hammer”, that did little to help its reception.
Mtshali did not fail in the greater scheme of things, but missed valuable opportunities to do and say more with his work.
Boyzie Cekwana gave the briefest take on the theme of sexual abuse in his piece titled 03:30 — Thinking out loud. It consisted of seemingly unrelated vignettes that hinted at the personal. Text projected on to a backdrop relayed the negative effects of alcohol on men and how this leads, in a number of cases, to the sexual abuse of children.
The choreography did not give much away, with a half-mummified Cekwana making haphazard movements on the stage. The conclusion was unexpectedly upbeat, highlighting a topic that any motorist could relate to: overly confident “car guards” who demand payment for the parking spaces that neither belong to them nor should be paid for. The car-guard depiction, though humorous, meant nothing on its own. Only when placed in parallel to the simple tale of alcohol and child abuse did the significant question arise: To which of the two scenarios do we pay most attention?
Abstract workings
Unlike the other dance pieces, Fana Tshabalala’s Gates of Hell was of a different bent.
With no props, text or dialogue, he presented an abstract work inspired by one of Rodin’s famous sculptural works of the same name.
But his work departs from that of Rodin in the sense that it is a considered observation of two souls finding their way in a place they do not know. These figures are reminiscent of the lovers, Paolo and Francesca da Rimini, whose renderings are apparent in Rodin’s Gates of Hell; their frozen movements suggesting that they are victims of circumstance, fighting against a force that seeks to set them apart.
The two dancers wore transparent net-like costumes that enabled their stencilled bodies to move in illustrative fluidity. At first their steps were soft and steady, as if feeling for the ground beneath them. Their bodies moved with a drawn-out delicacy.
Steadily they began to respond to the sound of their new environment, perhaps out of the curiosity of discovery, as they found themselves “beyond and within the unknown”. The piece suggested how restraints prompt us to discover ourselves.
In the Unknown Equation Ivan Teme removed the comfort of simply being spectators by directing the audience on to the stage. Like Tshabalala’s work it seemed to advance the theme of discovery. Teme required a brave and open audience to pull off his production. His achievement, however, was not the fulfilment of this prerequisite but the questions that arose from it: Why are you here watching this show and, perhaps, what does it mean to you?