Frances Rings’ words reverberate within the vividly lit Sydney Opera House on opening night: “There are two sides to the story of our nation. These are the stories that need to be in the social consciousness of our nation.” For Rings, this work is personal. The Anangu of the Great Victorian Desert and the Nunga of the far west region of South Australia are her people, she learned their stories from her father.
Yuldea marks Rings’ inaugural work as artistic director and choreographer of Bangarra Dance Theatre, showcasing all the grandeur, masterful lines, cross-cultural choreography, impactful storytelling, and vividly breathtaking production elements of a classic Bangarra production. However, there are also choices that hint at the dawning of a new era.
The production visualises Yooldil Kapi, a significant clay pan waterhole on the traditional lands of the Kokatha people, also known as ‘the famous soak’. It was widely regarded as the epicentre of trade, ceremony, lore and kinship, as well as being a source of sustenance and survival. Set designer Elizabeth Gadsby's conceptualisation frames the site with a curtain of long, vertically hanging ropes running from each corner to the deep back of the Drama Theatre stage. The curtain of ropes rustles like trees, is waded through like a swamp, and is strikingly lit to mark the beginning of its destruction by lighting designer Karen Norris.
In the second act, Kapi (Water), the Kokatha people's way of life, is delicately depicted through five symbolic pieces. Lillian Banks and Kallum Goolagong captivate with their partner work, depicting the watercourse and the shifting and churning of currents through gracious lifts and flowing lithe lines.
Costume design by the prolific Jennifer Irwin takes the symbolism further, using textured materials in shades of blue, black, and grey that crest and trough, like water with every movement. Feather shoulder pieces bring the female ensemble to life as birds in ‘Water Diviners: Birds’, before shifting the colour palette to deep browns to strengthen Rikki Mason and his pack of vibrant dingoes. Both these group pieces deliver energetic, animalistic movements and demonstrate perfect synchronicity that incites awe at the land’s natural beauty.
The third act, ‘Empire’, delves into Yooldil Kapi's devastating history. Rings explores the impact of the Trans-Australian Railway's construction and atomic testing at Maralinga on the Nullarbor Plain across four pieces. The choreography, props and lighting create poignant visuals, demonstrating the encroachment on the land. The use of a tethered, elasticated bungee cord is particularly powerful and facilitates spectacular, heart-wrenching individual and partner work as the dancers leap, bound and are dragged back into the curtain. Although aerial and acrobatic choreography has always been part of Bangarra’s repertoire, these movements are more grounded and responsive to the intrusion of the prop than directive, creating a sense of helplessness and inevitability that is central to the work's depiction of history.
In the final piece of the act, large, black confetti personifies Black Mist as Rikki Mason elegantly executes the dire and immobilising impacts of toxicity with unwavering attentiveness.
Compositions by Leon Rodgers enhance the introduction of Western capitalism, incorporating snippets of radio announcements and employing mechanical sounds – clogs turning, rocks breaking, doors creaking, trains, pinball machines – against the simple, elegant piano keys of the land. Rings has made choices that give Bangarra’s sonic landscape a more modern edge, by collaborating with guest composers Electric Fields.
Zaachariaha Fielding sings in the traditional language of the Anangu people in the hopeful finale that sees the ensemble advancing through an ethereally lit curtain under the glow of the divine songline set piece brought down from overhead to stand upright, connecting earth and sky. The choreography blends contemporary lines with the animalistic and flowing movements of the second act, costumes reflect the coming together of two cultures with male dancers half-dressed in ripped shirts and women in dresses adorned with traditional jewelry.
While this musical collaboration beautifully depicts the coming together of the ancient and modern in the fourth act, the first act – which also sees Rings collaborate with Electric Fields – seems at odds with the rest of the show. Act one’s ‘Supernova’ is an aggressive, strobe-filled, electronic piece filled with repeated movements that mimic an electric shock. Choreographically, it is an interesting foray for this company of dancers, and they deliver with excellence, but its connection to the overall narrative is unclear. Intended to foretell the arrival of change, the piece would be better placed between acts two and three or removed altogether. In its current place, it does little for the narrative – but by dipping her toe in the pool of modern, contemporary sounds and movement, it does stand as a statement of Rings’ intentions and artistic vision for Bangarra moving forward.
If Yuldea is anything to go by, the future of Bangarra remains poetic and deeply engaged with the stories of our nation but also unafraid to evolve, as First Nations people have, with the global landscape of music and dance. This powerful piece of theatre will move, astonish and enlighten while informing and reminding you of the cost of silencing the voice of our First Nations people.
Yuldea is playing in Gadigal Country at the Sydney Opera House from June 14 to July 15. Tickets range from $49-$109 and you can snap them up over here.
