Nine of Georges Rouault's sombre, stark, black and grey prints from his Miserere series, produced in the 1920s, hang on three of the small walls of gallery ten. The fourth wall is reserved for a long, padded bench seat, a viewing platform for visitors willing to wind their way through gallery after gallery of bright and startling works, to the very back of the Art Gallery of South Australia.
These are the images that inspired Artistic Director, Michelle Ryan, to create the work, Seeing Through Darkness, for Restless Dance Theatre.
"The imperfect form of the human body and the troubled soul of the works of Rouault resonate with how people with disability can feel and be perceived. Some may be confronted while others may see beauty in difference", she wrote.
This world premiere performance took place before an audience of only eleven people, due to ongoing restrictions with regard to indoor gatherings, placed as a public safety measure during the COVID-19 pandemic. While this is a tragic reality for all performing artists these days, there was a certain air of camaraderie amongst the select group as we gathered to wait for the performance to start. Eye contact, nods and smiles were exchanged between strangers as we acknowledged each other's and our own great fortune to be included in such a select group.
At 1.00pm we were ushered from the small gallery by Charlie, one of the company's dancers, into the extraordinary performance space. Eleven carefully spaced chairs faced a circular dance floor only a few metres wide and a few centimetres high where lay, in the dim light, six silent, immobile figures. The only thing separating the audience from the dancers was an arc of low track on which were mounted three spotlights, less than two metres from my feet.
The music, by Hilary Kleinig and Emily Tulloch, began to swell and the dancers began to move, as the lights revealed four men, naked to the waist, and two women in simple black dresses, standing tightly packed, caressing each other with their heads as their hands hung loosely by their sides.
Sensuous, yet sexless, the group emanated a strong sense of care for each other and, by extension, each of us watching. A loving selflessness, an innocent intimacy like a flock of birds preening each other, all the while the once bare walls were filled with the shadows of the dancers in their gentle embrace washed in the soft murmur of violin and cello.
Suddenly, a pair broke away, and the remaining four slumped silently to the floor as the music became more intense. Pizzicato rhythms and the bounce of bow on strings formed a melodic percussion as the two dancers began a pas de deux of such intensity, such quiet passion, their faces millimetres apart, that once again I was reminded of birds in a mating dance. For a few moments, they were the only things alive, the only things that mattered as they gazed deeply into each others eyes, single minded and driven, heads swooping and noses almost meeting, one breath away from a kiss.
Soon the tiny circular space was filled with bodies, powerful and lithe, limbs entwined and released, complex entanglements gracefully resolved with the ease that only physical strength and long practice can deliver, the music rising and falling like a tide as the shadows flickered across the walls.
Then they stopped. They literally stopped moving and held positions strangely reminiscent of Rouault's prints but, as the dancers stopped, the spotlights began to move along their arc of track at the edge of the dance floor. The shadows of the stationary performers moved and changed form as they slid across the walls, and, as each of the three spotlights had a different coloured filter, they caused shadows of subtly different hues to cross each other behind the silent tableau vivant.
This was a touch of absolute genius from designers Geoff Cobham and Meg Wilson. The monochromatic shadows could have stepped directly from one of Rouault's works. It was breathtaking in its beauty and simplicity.
"A tree against the sky possesses the same interest, the same character, the same expression as the figure of a human", said Georges Rouault.
The dancers themselves, Kathryn Adams, Chris Dyke, Jianna Georgiou, Michael Hodyl, Alexis Luke and Michael Noble are consummate professionals, and this highly emotional and utterly superb performance left me delighted, but drained, and with a tear in my eye. It was marvellous.
Reviewed by Ray Smith, Friday 25th September 2020.