Graeme Murphy's Grand ...with piano in mind - Sydney Dance Company - Opera Theatre - 02/06/05

Ethan Switch - Friday, 3 June 2005 - Print Version

Telly Savalas, in a strictly done up barber's outfit, stands at door 28 of the Opera Theatre not handing out sheets for Grand. Surly, off-guard and a little stand-offish, the man is not in the mood to show any signs of helpfulness. But he at least ushers people toward their seats.

Out from the break into the darkness, the slow moving beats of the piano push the theatre into a dream-like state. A lone woman falls toward the massive grand piano left of stage. A wonderful whisper of the keys accompanies the entry of the woman draped in black as she leans against the enormous shell. Breaking free, the night then takes on the life of imagination and interpretation.

Following the end of the first act, a door to the side opens sharply with the scurrying of feet and the bald man trying to keep the hush down. Another usher, in a rather militaristic uniform lording over another door, states quite clearly that there are no intermissions. A woman who steps out to use the toilets is never seen again.

Movement is sublime and daringly fluid for one of the earlier acts. Three dancers, two men and a woman, perform what looks like a stunning human kaleidoscope. Organically rhythmic, their lines and bodies dovetail beautifully into each other and the silences of notes beating through the air.

Behind the superimposed image of Scott Davie's hands as he cripples his arm across the keys of the piano with a deliberate drumming, one of the male dancers—probably the one featured in the banners and posters across the city streets—bops around to what appears to be a depressing downward spiral of the mind. Evocative of many nights drenched in the stench of horror, there's a slight sense of vertigo watching the camera's eye and the body of the lone male dancer meld and manage the visual scape.

From the designs by Akira Isogawa, the opening array of costumes billow in a rather watery and ghosty appearance. Later on, they take on a cut down feel. Minimalist and sheer to a point of bearing nothing more than the fine muscles of the dancers and the beating of the underlying rhythm in their hearts.

Down a row and over to the left, one of the late entrants with a walking stick is sound asleep, deep within his snore. Not deep enough to challenge the resonance of the grand piano on the stage, but enough to frighten the two Asian businessmen against fighting the urge to wake him up.

Midway, an assembly of acts competing for a trophy shine light on the night. Playful and whimsical, it's a charming diversion from the rest of the heavy moods humming round the edges. Following right up the highs of laughter come the only warbles from the stage. A boisterous rendition of Shall We Dance by Connor Dowling before the sweet steps of the Sydney Dance Company again claim centre stage to continue the night's spectacle.

There is absolutely no let up in the marriage of their bodies diving inside the ivory keys. In, on, off, they jump and run all about with a shocking degree of communion. Freaky.

Travelling through emotions and periods of thought such as joy, sadness, loss and wonder, the marriage of dance against the soundtrack of the piano moves extremely well. It's the connection that they deliver and the blood between the two performances that consume the night and envelope the eyeballs. Periods affect the enjoyment with so much commotion in certain acts that their entirety leaves a hole of regret.

Rattling through until the end, the sprites bounce around in the head of the lead lady in black. As she draws the night to a close, memories and reflections of life as touched by the strings and keys of the grand piano shimmer.

Grand is soulful, mesmerising and thoroughly entertaining.

Ethan Switch