Thin Paper, Autonomous Synapses, Nomads, Tokyo(ing) by Kota Yamazaki with Footnote New Zealand Dance is enthusiastically received to a sold-out theatre at Te Auaha as part of the second edition of the Poneke Contemporary Dance Festival 2025.    The dance floor is visibly glossy, creating an image like the refraction of light on water, and hovering from above is a delicately lit, white, light-weight, stiff, scrunched-like sheet, leading our imaginations wildly from floating clouds to polluted atmospheres, Japanese fashion and architecture.

In complete silence, the performance commences with choreographer Kota Yamazaki wearing his dark sunglasses, alongside his wife and guest dance artist from Japan, Mina Nishimura, and Footnote dancer Cecilia Wilcox.  Yamazaki is a choreographer and costume designer whose roots lie in Classical Ballet and Butoh.  These three dancers now set the tone for the next hour as we enter their vortex, and time and space are officially suspended. The style is predominantly Classical Ballet and Contemporary, and many questions are voiced out loud as well as observations and wordplay, which is accomplished in perfect rhythm with dance phrases.  Both Yamazaki and Nishimura explore choreographic possibilities as they move delicately, consciously, and intentionally in and out of the space.  Nishimura`s solo is a solid demonstration of Yamazaki`s fascination with the coexistence of dance and text.  Wilcox`s light shines brightly in this introduction as the choreography authorises her to fully engage in modern and classical technical skills, as well as her bold performer voice and presence. She looks at home, owning the movement and text.

Once all of the dancers join onstage, the concept of Nomads, Tokyo(ing) becomes apparent with all these busy humans, and energetic, swift and soft limbs cutting through an ever-changing atmosphere informed by an unknown landscape. The image of a densely populated area is palpable by the way the dancers ebb and flow around the space without collision, and rarely is there an uninhabited space onstage for longer than 2 seconds.  The busy-bodies are trance-inducing and relentless, yet poetic as the viewer’s eye is given allowance to zoom in and refocus on a world of opportunities in plain sight, at all times.

The dancers travel introspectively, each with a distinctive dance language flair, mostly without eye contact, and sometimes spoken text or sounds emerge organically as a result of movement, or a buildup of edgy tension in the air. Wilcox radiates with confidence as a technical wizard and an invincible feminine force. Smith naturally takes on a very forward-facing facing vivacious, extravert energy, while Matsuda remains understated, less emotive, with surges of a brilliant technical dance ninja. Siaosi effortlessly touches us with his gorgeous, full embodied fluidity and performance sincerity, not forgetting an undercurrent of natural wit, whilst ChengEn Lyu`s performance commits to a more serious intention through her warrioresque, sharp, heartfelt and deliberate movement trajectory.  She is the only dancer to costume change into a white skirt and shirt, while the others change into stylised charcoal and black dresses or pants and shirts.

After 20 minutes, I found myself speculating whether the piece was completely improvised, but there are far too many instances of well-staged, short synchronised choreographic moments to ever be spontaneous.  The idea that the piece could be painstakingly mapped out is difficult to fathom, and truth be told, the entire piece is mapped out and meticulously choreographed as Yamazaki began this work with Footnote in 2019. In 2020, Footnote performed Fog, Nerves, Future, Ocean, Hello (Echoes) as a development in Wellington.  The carefully arranged choreography came as less of a surprise, as Footnote does not usually dance Classical Ballet in choreography, although I’m sure it has been a fun challenge for all of them.

Via the sounds of crashing waves, the observational texts, and the liquefied movement qualities we are nudged in the direction of a fine day by the waterside, but Jesse Austin-Stewarts soundscape fades in, provocatively alerting us to the fact that music isn`t necessarily a movement catalyst in this work but more an instigator of trouble, inciting alarm bells with anticipatory sounds similar to popping popcorn, an electric fence, fireworks etc which gives us the impression something might eventually have to give way or implode. Always open to interpretation, but there may seem to be suggestions of climate change and the threat of natural disasters.

The lighting design by Takeaki Iwashina and Brynne Tasker-Poland remains relatively minimal throughout and avoids an abundance of changes, which is highly appreciated. Any dramatic light shifts feel resolute and intended for the piece, notably direct spots on solo moments, and towards the end of the piece when everything fades into blue, bringing the dancers into each other’s bubble, losing previous images of isolation; co-existence at last.

Some of the most engaging moments are when the dancers are completely moving together in synchronised choreography, and all intention is upheld and shared in their bodies.  Highlights include a spontaneous duet between Wilcox and Siaosi with zero eye contact, but a force of gravity and chemistry worming them back to each other like half-snake and human, simultaneously awkward and so moving. An unforgettable image of an upside-down, limp Wilcox, being hugged by Siaosi, causes our imaginations to run wild and question whether we should be interpreting these dancers as actual humans with real-life emotions or just focus on the bigger picture. 

Other highlights include a synchronised regurgitation with mouths wide open to the sky, where we could almost imagine their existential thoughts escaping into the universe.  At times, the music leads us to believe things might morph into a big unison choreography, but it is simply impossible to predict what might happen next.

Yamazaki`s life`s work and passion is to exist as an initiator for unexpected relationships that dancers from different cultural or technical backgrounds can have within other fields, such as architecture or visual arts.  He organises an experimental dance festival in Tokyo each year called Wherever Whenever and has been invited to teach all over the world. 

Entering into the theatre with zero knowledge of Yamasaki`s work, I would say that he stayed true to his classical ballet roots whilst keeping an experimental, open-minded approach and a curious outlook. Yamasaki seems to have constructed this piece with a certain freedom outside of the constricts of anticipated linear dance show formulas with less fear of putting the abstract onstage and putting forward the most significant aspects, being the five Footnote Dancer’s movement journeys.

Thin Paper, Autonomous Synapses, Nomads, Tokyo(ing) is a hypnotic and extraordinary dance piece by Yamasaki that explores a unique human insight and experience of the world via the spirited and skilled dancers from Footnote NZ Dance.  The universe Yamasaki and Footnote dancers create hooks its audience into an existential and ever-changing, delicate but turbulent bubble that is capable of popping at any time.  Favourite quote from the piece: “I don`t actually exist, but I’m doing my best to”.

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Thin Paper, Autonomous Synapses, Nomads, Tokyo(ing) is not the first iteration of the choreographic material, which gives this work a sense of maturation. There is a deep engagement with an iterative nature within the work and references to past versions are visible echoes. In a world driven by the reproducibility and repetition of online video, it is refreshing to see a dance so interested in change.

This work is drawn from a 2020 piece titled Fog, Nerves, Future, Ocean, Hello (Echos) and also recently returned to New Zealand from Tokyo, after which it was reworked again.

As you enter the space you are greeted with five chairs spaced clinically and evenly in a row overtop a shimmering plasticky surface secured over the width and breath of the stage. The stark white lighting feels clinical, and the stage sits ominously, feeling just a touch like a kill room – except for the sparkling and reflective floor. Instead of physical programmes we are given scripts with the text we should expect to hear (on which there is a QR for a digital programme).

Sean MacDonald enters the stage, and it instantly fills with his unobtrusively rich presence. He commands the stage and our attention with ease, preforming a somewhat gestural solo where each movement crumples into the next. It is punctuated by text that is both poetically abstract, obtuse, and cheeky. He addresses the audiences directly several times, breaking the fourth wall and asking us to witness in particular ways. He concludes by announcing that the show is going to begin now and explains that his performance was his interpretation of choreographer’s Kota Yamazaki original solo.

Sean exits as the five dancers take to the stage for the remainder of the choreography.

Through most of the work each dancer is performing different material as simultaneous solos that shift satisfyingly into duets, trios, or group unison. These clever moments where suddenly everything clicks into place sit as a high point for the somewhat wandering performance. The strength of the material is its use of layered difference to create a cohesive togetherness. The movement demonstrates how each body identifies itself in relationship with the space and the other bodies present, which activates the conceptual material the work suggests. The often gestural and mechanical movement vocabulary is supported by poetic text further elucidating these ideas; “this space is my body” and “I don’t really exist, but I try really hard”.

The chosen movement vocabulary holds slight references to Butoh and seems to intentionally flatten dynamics, instead, relying on the unique choreographic structure to build

 energy. The effect is a somewhat monotone experience, where I was left wanting for more climatic energy.

As the piece progresses the plastic material overlayed on the stage picks up the footprints of the dancers, leaving traces of their presence and experience in the space. A written record that the dancers existed – that they were inhabitants within the objects of their bodies. In conclusion, dancer Cecilia Wilcox lays on the floor and recites a final monologue, “I will try to synchronize myself with this chair and become an object for 30 seconds”. In doing so, she poetically sums up the core question driving this work: how do we become who we are?

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