This was a programme of three works and many endings. Intriguing as a look into and a response from another country, Canada. Raven Spirit Dance is based in Vancouver and has a long history of commitment to sharing stories from an indigenous worldview. There is a charm intrinsic to a different culture that opens our eyes and gives a window to another viewpoint.

Frost Exploding Trees Moon opens in the dark on a single stooped figure (Michelle Olsen) carrying long willow sticks. Slow, deliberate, sculptural movements give us glimpses of burden, of weight, of yoked bundles, of history and a personal journeying.  We journey also, accompanied by birds and stopping for breath as the sticks become stars, a teepee, protection, bird wings… Our imagination and spirit travel too.

In Spine of Mother Earth, two dancers (Tasha Faye Evans & Marisa Gold)  are drawn along the Andean mountain range that is the backbone of the Americas from Argentina to Alaska. These dancers are majestic in their movement as they unfold a cloth of stones and place them carefully, or carelessly. On the earth and from the earth, these stones are symbolic and essential.  There is struggle and permanence in the relationship between the two dancers. Episodic and narrative in structure, with a wonderful video and media design by Sammy Chien that encompasses the dance, this is a response to a world that we are privileged to share.  Our Southern Alps come to mind frequently for me as I watch. We travel through time past and present, as gradually the heartbeat of our planet speaks to the breath and rhythm of all life and movement.

The sense of ritual continues in Confluence, danced by a group of women in flowing skirts with a sinuous, intricately patterned dance that twines through the space and uses arms and gesture with purpose and clarity. The collaborators, creators and dancers are Michelle Olsen, Starr Muranko, Jeanette Kotowich, Samantha Sutherland and Emily Solstice. My mind goes to a river, to streams and tributaries, to a coastline and a life that connects and supports but never touches – a world of individuals dancing to the same tune. This was mesmerising but never seemed to reach a goal. It settled, then found new life and finally faded out. Many statements to be found and reflected upon. Many paths to travel.

There are rivers and braiding, but the final knot is not tied. The will to be ‘complete’ is a human search and goes on, with all of us taking part, wherever we live and however we dance. Wonderful to see these visitors and their dance. Thank you.

All credit to Kia Mau – a great festival of contemporary Tangata Whenua, Tangata Moana and Indigenous theatre and dance in and beyond Aotearoa. This was an evening for the beyond, and this is a festival that speaks for and to us all.

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I come into this show without reading too much about it first, as I like to go in fresh sometimes and let my initial responses form in the moment. Immediately, I’m swept off into a place I truly love inhabiting for 90 minutes.

This collection of dance works by Raven Spirit Dance (from Vancouver, Turtle Island) is described as “traces the connections between vast ancestral landscapes with our bodies” and it does so with intense sensory richness.

The sounds and the landscapes evoked are familiar but unfamiliar, if that makes any sense at all. I feel the sense immediately of mountain ranges, frozen tundras, flora and fauna and textures unlike ours on Aotearoa. But at the same time I feel the familiar sense of yearning to be close to the landscape around, as well as the push-pull, rupture-repair relationship we can experience with the world around us. The soundscape, lighting and visual art on the backdrop alone are transportive, let alone the exquisite talent of the Raven Spirit Dance performers and creators.

The first piece, ‘Frost Exploding Trees Moon’ performed by Michelle Olson is a mesmerizing way to begin. Olson is a wonderful dancer and has a way of bringing calm warmth to the stage.

The second piece, ‘Spine of the Mother’ performed by Tasha Faye Evans and Marisa Gold is possibly my favourite. I love how the makers of this show aren’t afraid to take their time and allow moments to stretch out. Marisa Gold places rocks in a pile, the clacking sound subtle but satisfying. Eventually the rocks are tossed and re-aligned like a mountain ridge down the centre of the space. Tasha and Marisa move together and alone seamlessly; you cannot take your eyes off them.

There are many moments during this show when I think:I wish this kind of theatre was more widely attended, because people might understand each other a whole lot more. There are times when I think: that movement, that moment is exactly how I feel at times… I don’t know the words for it but that’s exactly it.

And isn’t that just the point? We create and watch theatre because it transcends the constraints we live in all day long, and brings us closer to the human experience. Dance, especially, can do this in a way that gets right to the little nooks we don’t often explore.

I love the sense of build-up and anticipation. In the piece with the rocks, the dancers are glued, stuck, drawn to the floor and they use their might and every angle in their body to unstick and return, unstick and return … I have the sense of yearning for them to straighten and break free from the floor. When they do, you can feel a hum of triumph in the room.

Some of the things I notice and feel during this show are struggle, joy, perseverance, solitude, cohesion, memory, strength and love.

The audience is drawn in, completely still and focused, and perhaps in a similar trance-like state like I am.

I’ve really loved this show and I’m grateful to Kia Mau for programming it, and for the incredible creators of Raven Spirit Dance for bringing it all the way to us.  

Copyright © in the review belongs to the reviewer