these are the fragments of what may have happened
are the frag ts of what may have
th ese are the fragments may
This is what was seen; fragments, a family album. Snapshots, posed, candid, every possible experience packed in, and it’s
but a critical re-view
you don’t like it you can
lick my past
lick my pussy
that affect us the most
lick my patu
balaclava faces / blacked-out She designz / we’re laughing with / in front of, at you
gangsta collisions / absent knives / strokings into out of each others
star-dust diamond on the inside, whakapapa spine
when wāhine make darklove ink tears
spurt out of/between t.heir tatau thighs ( & eyes &
they step into the light, two black clad figures with bright red mouths. A parody, stand-ins for themselves. It’s like watching the inside of mind, the thoughts behind the dancer’s career.
Wijohn / Tūhoe tū tonu / athlete-comedian-slayer / strips them to their knees
back dragged with table
& behold, a quiet chair
quaint rose in vase
aroha dripping all over the everywhere
Your sister, your best friend, and a careful painted pose; these women shine brightest outside the conventions of “contemporary.” Posture and face, overt and sailing so perilously close to oversaturation.
Nash / memorial bone stores / 3rd-eye girl
lyric finesse her dancing years / this body that has loved fucked birthed been touched
made contact with (deepthink) care
(life exists most in the asides)
crescent moon movement in phases
surround head &
face is drowning under
An essential, onstage costume change.
Tableau, black against black are a pointed send up, all lines and form
then re-appear The effect lost as the lights reveal more.
now She is
her(e this dance is queer
& they are… a competition, filled with the sporadic one-upmanship of children. Sometimes
we’re watching two assured and playful women. Sometimes it’s five-year olds
mirrors, entangling bloodline / limb / toe to toe
cheeky creepy theatre show
bits of clothes
& before we were flesh They strip each other, playfully
just shards of glass / hips & ass clinical. Flesh revealed, but
headless play-date / the body nothing exposed.
beyond the sum of its parts
They hide behind mirrors. This is a lazy Sunday in bed. Voyeuristic; but the subject is the real watcher here. Nancy, entranced, constructing her image but
never ever looking.
in the Meta dreamspace contemporary dance vocabularies, absurdly
beautifully executed become
a kind of
A different fragment. Nancy is beguiling as she chases a balloon across the stage, tragic
as she sketches a family fantasy into the space.
see what you aren’t saying ladywhores u
its hilarious / oh / its delightfully serious
unison so out of sync / feels like these bodies belong together They lie together
or never / or forever
full frontal & defaced
a race / jete / & parrr de boray
&what this retro-menstrual music
love songs all daynight long
the movement of a hand leading
to a wave of effortlessly articulate movement.
It is mesmerising.
It leads us nowhere
wall of aching breasts yes & yes
So much build that the payoff leaves me still waiting
my neck my back
my & my
pushing the edges of the object
sloshing the dredges of the sobject
humannothumannot human nonhuman man not humane
Showgirls! Although the finger clicks may be offbeat there is a spark, they love this, straight up, uncomplicated. They tango, dip like the movies.
this bitch is preggers
the woman is pregnant
that girl has a bun in the oven
e hapū ana te kōtiro nei
she is with child
what a lovely babymaker
love & marriage (goes together like horsey &
Why is our affection most easily shown in clichés?
pull up top / squeeze out front bottom
A tall wooden chair, a cushion (spurned), roses.
The perfect image, disturbed and pulled apart
by the lure of the moon. Round, and round, dragged inexorably offstage.
back to back / black on black
slide to recline The moon reappears, horns lifted to the sky. Smug
fall away, dissolving through
surrender Which can only carry you so far.
into tender ends or
kō ngā mihi nui ki a koutou katoa i runga te āhuaranga o Matariki, me tēnei nekenekehanga e tū mārika nei.