REVIEW | Cut the Sky

DANCE
Cut the Sky ★★★½
Regal Theatre | Review by Nina Levy

Cut the Sky, by Broome’s dance-theatre company Marrugeku, is a jam-packed work.

Melding together contemporary dance, theatre and music, indigenous storytelling and singing, and video installation, it explores climate change from an Aboriginal perspective. Consisting of scenes that range from abstract to didactic, Cut the Sky presents many powerful and moving moments but the overall impact was diluted by the large number of competing ingredients.

One of its strengths is the cast of six, with Nyikina-Walmajarri artist, poet and storyteller Edwin Lee Mulligan the linchpin of the group.

Mulligan gives voice to an Aboriginal perspective on the relationship of people to the land, against a backdrop of video footage that depicts scenes such as the hostile beauty of the desert, devastation wrought by natural disasters (although none of these are Australian images) and the physical impact of open-cut mining. His words and tone are earthy and gentle, containing, nonetheless, an implicit warning. In particular, his description of the controversial Kimberley gas as a “poisonous lady” is evocative and chilling. Given that Mulligan felt like a unifying presence in such a busy work, I would have liked to have heard more from him.

The roles of the remaining cast members are less clear. According to the program, dancers Miranda Wheen, Eric Avery, Josh Mu and Dalisa Pigram are variously mining workers, a geologist, a displaced traditional owner and a protestor but it would be hard to gather this information without these notes. Similarly, singer Ngaire Pigram is a sex worker but while her costume and attitude are undeniably sultry and seductive, there is little else to make this apparent.

Nonetheless, the dancers gave compelling performances. Pigram, the co-choreographer and Marrugeku co-director, was a force to be reckoned with. Clad in a miner’s safety harness, her swivelling hips seemed to mimic machinery cogs, slipping and sliding past one another. Tiny but mighty she occupied more space than her small stature would suggest is possible.

In another highlight, a bio-hazard- suited Wheen chanted scientific- sounding warnings almost under her breath while leaping and rolling with an almost chemical energy. The rustle of her suit and the hissing of her breath made a sinister accompaniment.

Singer Ngaire Pigram was another forceful presence. Belting her way through numbers by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds and upcoming Sydney-based soul singer Ngaiire, Pigram’s renditions were at times strident, at others poignant.

While Pigram’s performance was impressive, the inclusion of the various songs feels, to some degree, like the straw that breaks the camel’s back. The Nick Cave numbers seem like overkill and aren’t as comfortable a fit as Ngaiire’s compositions. Or maybe it is not the songs but the sheer number of elements packed into 70 minutes — singing, dancing, storytelling, poetry, video-projections . . . I haven’t even touched on the use of Bill Grayden’s 1980 speech to the Aboriginal people of Noonkanbah, the effect of which is heart-shrivelling.

Cut the Sky is both timely and generous, revealing that Marrugeku co-directors Rachael Swain and Dalisa Pigram have much to offer. Offering it all at once, however, isn’t necessarily the best option.