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Footnote New Zealand Dance’s IYKYK (If You Know You Know) is a double bill of new works created by choreographers Holly Newsome and Forest Kapo for the company’s five fulltime dancers and intern Jacob Reynolds.

The satisfyingly full programming delivers a 90-minute production with intermission, allowing both choreographers the space and time to fully explore and realise their concepts and ideas. Presented in the asymmetrical space of the Hannah Playhouse, IYKYK sits comfortably in the severe, atmospheric environment, utilising lighting to minimise the need for set design.

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If You Know You Know presented by Footnote New Zealand Dance, investigates the light and dark spaces that we as humans exist in. A double bill contemporary work by Holly Newsome and Forest Kapo – these two works present a game-like lens of viewing the human condition.
Newsome’s Advance To Go places emphasis on the bones of a giant white square deposited centre stage at Hannah Playhouse. One by one, dancers climb from an upper level, down a ladder and into something of a mineshaft, referencing either the start or end of the game. Robotic movements overtake the emotionless faces in a rewinding sensation and a solid beat breaks us into the fake simulation-like reality. A significant sound offering from Emi Pogoni permeates the entirety of the show and lighting designer Elekis Poblete Teriney compliments the deeply airy space with her distinct electric flavour. 

The behaviours and games of this fake yet real world, are established and complemented with a bouncing like quality from the dancers. At this moment, I am reminded of the quality of ants. Ants are strong, social, and segmented. Like ants burrowing into the ground, we burrow into the system. Deeper and deeper the dancers travel inwards. We are powerful in groups, yet weak as individuals. A helping hand reaches out for support – take my hand and I’ll help you. Or will I? 

Emma Cosgrave acts like a sort of popping candy throughout the first half. Giving us curious bursts of colour and smooth fluctuations of speed and agility, she compliments the strong stance that is Veronica ChengEn Lyu. This powerhouse duo is nuanced and technically seamless. 

An ongoing investigation of different versions of waving and walking evolves throughout. One minute the choreography drives the dancers, next they are dead weight and limp to the ground. Moving and running throughout the square’s insides, I wonder if the square even exists at this point? Or is it my mind playing tricks on me? Much like the game of Monopoly, you take two steps forward and one step back. The dancers replicate a similar movement pattern. 

A common movement pattern that occurs throughout – the dancers complete alternative versions of a stepping combination in solos, duos and trios. The use of repetition proves that the game indeed, can often be a slog, and of course, it can be tempting to escape… Levi Siaosi often appears to be escaping. Escaping the group’s collective energy and advancing an individual and eclectic style. A wholesome and grounded energy seems to cast over the divergent landscape like a hopeful net. 

Desperate running made me desperately want to sit in the exhausted breath for longer. Maybe a missed opportunity to really tease out the excruciating pain that is trying to play the game. What would actually happen if we gave up completely and just released it? What exactly are we all playing for? 

A red timer begins to count down. Forest Kapo’s Premonition begins. Integrating movement, sound, text and image, Kapo gives their audience a refreshing meditative exhale.
Looser white costumes are a stark contrast to the previous compression uniform. Perhaps a symbol of truce, an agreement between opponents to stop fighting. The white square signifies our quest for peace, both in ourselves and with each other, however, the slow evolutions of red staining the stage, dictate something sinister to come.
I begin to feel a strange sense of ease and dread simultaneously. Airu Matsuda and Jacob Reynolds reflect this. Developing a keenly intertwined and fluid duet, Matsuda entertains dominance in grounded floor work and Jacobs manifests a playful child-like quality. 

Time is running out. 

Cecilia Wilcox bombards the audience with absolute attitude. The energy and stance is controlled yet free, filling and holding the space as an important solo. I yearn for more of this.
At this point, text and voice become apparent. Wilcox suggests “You can believe me. I just think we need to start again”. Do you mean start the game again? 

The repetition and journey of walking in and out of the space, intertwining what we know and what we are yet to know, evolves as a fluid group curation. All of the dancers knit together as a unit, unlike some of the dead weight energy from the beginning.
I wonder if we can, in fact, learn from our past? Can we rewrite the future without having to start again? 

An absolute blood bath. Time has run out. Nothing left but dead ants. 

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