The Moon’s Insane and other stories
The Wine Cellar, St Kevins Arcade (K Rd), Auckland
19/03/2009 - 21/03/2009
IN THE REALMS OF MAGIC AND MAYHEM WE EXPLORE A TIME BEFORE STORIES WERE SANITISED.
The woodcutter, the wolf, the wiseman, and the witch all play their part in this intensely physical inventive revue translating the faerie-stories of old in a feast of dance, aerial theatre and music. The Dust Palace (Making Love to the Audience, Fête Macabre) brings to the stage a collaboration between dancers Dave Hall and Joshua Rutter, physical and aerial performer Eve Gordon and renowned Wellington based musician Rosie Langabeer.
Stories lilt through the room to whisper themselves in your ear, as the moon hangs low over Persian rugs covering the floor.
The Moon’s Insane and other Stories is a fearless in both physicality and content. Interpreting the folklore from a time when the supernatural and metaphysical were accepted, the talented performers dissolve the boundaries between their disciplines to create fifty minutes of striking physical, musical and descriptive imagery.
The word ‘folklore’ in its first ever use by William Thomas in 1846 was used to mean ‘popular antiquities.’
The concept has also been described as ‘artistic communication in small groups’.
Nudity may offend.
The Wine Cellar, St Kevins Arcade (Karangahape Rd, Auckland Central)
Thursday 19th February – Saturday 21st March
Tickets available through firstname.lastname@example.org
The Auckland Fringe runs from 27th February to 22nd March 2009.
For more Auckland Fringe information go to www.aucklandfringe.org.nz
Carried away by charming nonsensical momentum
Review by Jacob Tamaiparea 20th Mar 2009
The Moon’s Insane and other stories is an offering from dusty literatures; a reading from a book of nightmares told through a display of creepy, disconnected movement and read-aloud storytelling.
The action is revealed to the viewer from all sides and angles. The piece that has clearly been worked with its venue in mind; the wine cellar’s back-room theatre finely utilised as its performers twist and overlap each other to fill the entirety of the space.
At times childish, other times animalistic, and then with movements that seem to have taken inspiration from the slow and steady growth of plants, it can be hard to draw a bead on what if any message is trying to perpetuate itself. The feeling is not unsatisfying; I find myself lulled by the undertow of chantings and discordant hums that disarm a conscious attempt to find meaning in what is being seen.
The well presented wardrobe and cleverly conceived musical accompaniments belie the fact that, in spite of such efforts being gone to for the sake of presentation, this is a piece that makes few demands upon its audience.
There is little work to be done here as a viewer, rather it is a chance to see in flesh the strange way our subconscious minds have ingested centuries of stories, and it is this that gives the piece its charm; once accepting your own role as quiet observer, you may then enjoy being carried away in its nonsensical momentum.
Tension swells in an unhurried fashion, turning you on slowly, peaking only as often as is necessary to keep you invested in the performance.
And so if there is a challenge, it is in giving the performers the chance to tell the story in their own way, that you may enjoy its chapters for yourself.
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