Moana Showcase 2025 highlights the creative voices of tertiary dance students and alumni hailing from Aotearoa’s leading dance institutions: NZ School of Dance (NZSD), Unitec and Waipapa Taumata Rau (University of Auckland).

Mother Tongue, choreographed by Samara Te Aniwa Reweti and performed by six NZSD wāhine, proposes a gentle exploration of language acquisition and cultural awakening. Bird calls from the darkness evoke the mystery and potential of Te Kore. Whistles, gentle breathwork (te hā), synchronised gestures and softened technical floor work in Te Pō acknowledge the mauri between the dancers: a connected communal breath, moving and breathing as one life force.

Solos briefly break away from the bond to explore vulnerability and curiosity – a sense of deep listening and internal searching, hinting at the frustration and longing that often accompany disconnection from language and identity. The final emergence into Te Ao Mārama, marked by clear, confident whistles, symbolises the reclamation of voice and the movement toward clarity and understanding.

While the overall pace of the work remains subtle throughout, the stillness feels intentional and speaks to the slow, nonlinear nature of rediscovering language and self. Mother Tongue is a grounded offering that prioritises presence over spectacle, and pays homage to the resilience of wāhine Māori and the enduring power of language.

I woke with the Island in my Mouth, choreographed by Leilani-Grace Tonu’u and Ratu Komaiwainicika Loaloadravu Waqalevu in collaboration with the dancers, is a bold, unapologetic declaration of brown bodies in motion – energetically fluid, grounded and dynamically fierce. Weaving together elements of Siva Samoa, street dance energy, and contemporary dance technicality, this work invites the audience into a world where movement becomes a site of cultural resistance. 

Vogue elements, skillfully interlaced into the work by Waqalevu, Ford and Siulu, make an empowering statement. The acknowledgement of this distinct street dance style prompts critical reflections on the whakapapa of Vogue, birthed by Black and Latinx communities in the USA. Audience members might view Vogue as entertaining, but there is a crucial political message behind the embodiment. Pasifika queer bodies recontextualising Vogue within Aotearoa reside with feelings of resistance, survival and resilience. Reclaiming space in a predominantly contemporary dance platform, this section tastefully redefines what Pacific-Contemporary dance can look like.

Tonu’u’s solo is a standout moment – breaking out from a line of wāhine with a quiet power, she displays a beautifully soft, deeply embodied and expressive solo. The collective finishes with another stunning solo performed by Siulu and the cooperative, communal group – moving, breathing, and sweating together, signifying resilience and determination.

This work offers a dynamic use of energy from electrifying jumping, striking Siva Samoa movements, to tenderly graceful but powerful gestures. It takes the audience on an unpredictable journey. This collective offers a refreshing take on Pacific stories and is unafraid to challenge form, politics and identity.

And Still, We See, choreographed and performed by Kataraina Poata and Hayley Crisp, is a serene but compelling duet that explores the (re)discovery and resilience of cultural identity. Full-black costuming allows the eye to focus on the women’s synchronisation, technicality and relationship to one another. The duet is highlighted with a gentle spotlight accompanied by music that is ritual-like, evoking a sense of memory, tradition and/or shared history. Their synchronised linear and circular patterns offer a grounded sense of togetherness — two bodies moving as one in harmony. A shift in tone occurs with classical violin, allowing the dancers to move from flowing unison into mirrored movement and expressive lifts. This transition suggests individuality within a collective experience.

The work offers an abstract take on the (re)discovery and resilience of cultural identity, speaking in subtle and minimal ways to portray both gentle resistance and quiet power of solidarity.

Become, Unravel choreographed by Lily-Mae Baird and Leilani-Grace Tonu’u – High heels and business suit attire present quirky business versus pleasure; 80s glam meets Wall Street. A contrast that suggests conformity clashing with self-expression. The cast is fabulously committed to this work, alternating between rigid movements and wild, expressive, or sensual sequences.

Bar fights erupt. Bodies battle for space, visibility, and control. A relationship dynamic that creates an eccentric, distorted world reflecting inner turmoil and climbing the ladder of capitalism. The work leaves the audience moved by the absurdity, but reveals hints of truth: the personal cost of ambition and the human desire to be seen and validated in a world obsessed with status.

MAFUTAGA choreographed by Villiamu Yandall, merges and contrasts two worlds – contemporary dance is layered in response to a traditional ‘Ava ceremony: a striking visual suggesting the constant codeswitching, or navigating the in-between of two worlds – the Vā. Dancers mafana the space and offer a relational dynamic that is warming to watch. Although a Samoan work, the cast is diverse and expresses their Siva Samoa with charisma and pride.

A standout moment from this work lies in the fusion of a Samoan hymn, live piano, and opera – a stunning intersection of voice, faith, and form, as Yandall fights to navigate through the hardships and challenges of tradition versus contemporary. 

By layering contemporary dance with traditional Fa’a Samoa, Yandall places both worlds in dialogue, sometimes in tension, sometimes in harmony. What does the Vā look and feel like for Samoan people in current times? How are we experiencing a fostering/disruption of the Vā by living in the diaspora and away from our nu’u? These are themes explored by Yandall.

Avante-Era, choreographed by Ratu Komaiwainicika Loaloadravu Waqalevu and Nathan Albay Gacusan, drops us into a dystopian dreamscape through the queer experience. Gacuscan opens the piece with an undeniable presence. A powerful worldbuilding performer through stillness, intention, and soft but powerful movement qualities.

The costuming – motorcycle helmets and hi-vis vests – immediately sets the tone. A hypermasculine aesthetic through a queer lens shifts the work into a space of dualities: harsh vs soft, visibility vs erasure, protection vs vulnerability. Dancers fight for the helmet – a symbol of status, protection, visibility, but also erasure. The helmet obscures and shields each dancer, erasing the identity of those who wear it.

We’re invited to reflect on who gets to be seen, who is protected, and what visibility means for queer bodies navigating structures of power. Symbolic risk and potentially, a queer unmasking? To contrast this conflicting, harsh world they’ve created, the fluid solos and duets anchor the work in tenderness, revealing humanity, fragility.

A richly layered, abstract work that gets the audience to read between the lines: How do queer bodies navigate visibility, risk, and resilience in hostile worlds — and what does survival through tenderness look like?

Folaunga, choreographed by Iatua Felegai Taito, reclaims Siva Samoa through a Tauatane (LGBTQI+) lens. Taito holds space for this traditional form in a predominantly contemporary dance context. A highlight is the four men: Villiamu, PJ, Darren, and Tua dancing Siva Samoa in both masculine and feminine embodiments, showcasing the diversity of ways Samoan men inherently encapsulate this dance. The finale’s fusion of vogue, bboying, krump and Siva Samoa to Beyoncé is a vibrant celebration of the Pasifika diasporic identity. Mafana (warmth, enthusiasm) spreads to the audience through the great chemistry within the cohort and transcends in their performance.

As Taito carefully reclaims and resituates Siva Samoa through a tauatane lens, he showcases the craft as not fixed, but as a living, adaptable expression of Samoan identity in regards to place, people and identity as tauatane. This challenges the colonial binaries of gender and invites viewers to witness masculinity and femininity in fluid dialogue – honouring it in resilient, moving and shifting ways; and most importantly, strengthened by a community.

Platforms like Moana Showcase are integral to the growth of our dance industry – a space for emerging artists to take risks, make statements and shape their choreographic voices. But as we uplift these new voices, we must also ask: what pathways are we carving for them beyond this stage? Whakapapa is also a vital part of this industry as Mana Moana creatives. Looking to those who walked before us — established artists — could offer crucial mentoring support, helping to refine and evolve processes; encouraging emerging creatives to find their distinct voices and expand what’s possible both inside and beyond institutional frameworks and in response to the limited dance company, performative & choreographic opportunities in Aotearoa right now.

I commend all choreographers for their courage in sharing their work with the world. The whakapapa of contemporary dance is a space originally not built for/with us. Often, we find ourselves working harder to catch up or fit into frameworks that provide techniques and philosophies that feel foreign to our way(s) of being. However, to exist as a Pacific storyteller in a contemporary dance space is a radically political act. Carving out space for our stories to be heard unapologetically and redefining what contemporary dance can/will look like – is an act of resistance and reclamation for those we stand for and represent. I encourage these artists to keep making & redefining what the future holds for our stories… while still acknowledging the Wā/Vā that keeps us connected to the whakapapa of people who came before us, and who will follow after.

Malo lava & ngā mihi nui for your courage and cultural labour, choreographers and performers.

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