Guy van Egmond
Subversion was one of those shows that makes Pōneke really feel like a thriving city, with talent bubbling up out of every leaky pipe. Tucked into a parking lot off the alleyway that is Leeds Street, it was the epitome of a ‘street’ show.
The stage was marked out with pylons and rope; the wings were two gazebos draped in shirts and dresses. A horseshoe crowd of people filled the alley, those at the front sitting on the asphalt while those at the back lifted kids up on their shoulders for a view. I half expected to see other kids running through the spray of an open fire hydrant, or for everyone above us to throw open their apartment windows and gossip while hanging their washing on lines strung above the street in a delightfully ‘downtown’ kind of way. Jokes aside, this gathering really inspired some civic pride in me for our artsy, little capital.
Reflective of said capital, Subversion was very stylish. The choice of songs and the sound design (Alex Quinn), the physical performance (Ava O’Brien & Peggie Barnes), and, of course, the fashion design. The show's theme followed the evolution of alternative and rebellious fashion from the 1980s till today and all the elements combined to tell this story. This theme wasn’t immediately apparent from the mysterious opening, as 20 black-clad performers swayed onto the catwalk, though this was certainly intriguing. However, then a familiar synth beat started playing, heads started nodding, and Blue Monday ushered in the ‘80s. This section was very playful: the first two performers stepped straight out of MTV in teal, magenta and yellow activewear pieces (des. Sophie Morrison), then pulled another two performers out of the all-black crowd to reappear in black-on-white polka dots, reminiscent of Princess Diana (des. Sophie Matthews).
A sharp shift then took us into the early ‘90s, as the brooding black-clad crowd stepped out onto the stage again to the distorted guitar of Killing In The Name. This time, they were led by two performers whose punk princess outfits combined leather gloves and black tartan with dresses in that soft grey of old photos of your parents. I really like these two pieces by Anya Darby, and the energy that the two performers embodied them with. Next, two guys who looked out of place at first, in bright blue denim and thin black sunglasses—more Marty McFly than Courtney Love—got their own delightful solo to breakdance to Run-D.M.C.’s It’s Tricky (des. Phoebe McCrossin).
The next song of note, Bucky Done Gun by M.I.A., brought us undeniably into the 2000s. Four more dancers stepped out in distressed black denim and long sleeves with worn thumbholes; stripped-back but undeniably Avril Lavigne/Gerard Way-inspired (des. Kayla Rousselle & Fiona Lu). Glorious.
As the show’s timeline moved closer to the present day, the music became a gentle piano score. The nostalgia parties were over, it was time to take a harder look at ourselves and our time. The physical storytelling shone in this section and caused a real hush to fall over the audience. First Lincoln Swinerd and Nathan Arnott, then Aston Matheson and Tuscany King, wearing angelic white robes by Kaan Yazici and Shariah Diskin, respectively, played out two tableaus of queer love. Their movements together spoke of intimacy and joy, turmoil and pain and loss. My only grievance here was that Frank Ocean’s Thinking ‘Bout You was a jarring choice to set Aston and Tuscany’s performance to, which broke the spell for a while.
But we were right back into it as we hit the 2020s. To FKA Twigs’ Eusexa emerged the final four designs, by Eli Thompson, Ava O'Brien and Olivia Ferguson. There was no icon I could compare these pieces to, each of them different. Thompson’s works celebrated the reuse of materials the best, but it was O'Brien and Ferguson’s work that was the pièce de résistance. Their two designs shared a long train, emblazoned with signs of protest: Toitu te Tiriti, Free Palestine Now, Make Love Not War. As the whole cast lifted these messages high, it brought the show’s narrative full circle; for better or worse things may change, but hope remains.
Subversion was a very stylish show whose scale spanning 5 decades, each with multiple choreographed pieces, was impressive. There was a sense that the production had been rushed, in the way performers would flick a sidelong glance to match the others in action or timing. The production could have used another week of rehearsal.
But this aside, Subversion was a beautiful and strong celebration of community. It paid homage to decades past, those communities that never disappear but only change; it brought 30 wonderful artists together in a multidisciplinary showcase; and it brought together a crowd of Wellingtonians who, for half an hour, shared together the love of art.
Reflective of said capital, Subversion was very stylish. The choice of songs and the sound design (Alex Quinn), the physical performance (Ava O’Brien & Peggie Barnes), and, of course, the fashion design. The show's theme followed the evolution of alternative and rebellious fashion from the 1980s till today and all the elements combined to tell this story. This theme wasn’t immediately apparent from the mysterious opening, as 20 black-clad performers swayed onto the catwalk, though this was certainly intriguing. However, then a familiar synth beat started playing, heads started nodding, and Blue Monday ushered in the ‘80s. This section was very playful: the first two performers stepped straight out of MTV in teal, magenta and yellow activewear pieces (des. Sophie Morrison), then pulled another two performers out of the all-black crowd to reappear in black-on-white polka dots, reminiscent of Princess Diana (des. Sophie Matthews).
A sharp shift then took us into the early ‘90s, as the brooding black-clad crowd stepped out onto the stage again to the distorted guitar of Killing In The Name. This time, they were led by two performers whose punk princess outfits combined leather gloves and black tartan with dresses in that soft grey of old photos of your parents. I really like these two pieces by Anya Darby, and the energy that the two performers embodied them with. Next, two guys who looked out of place at first, in bright blue denim and thin black sunglasses—more Marty McFly than Courtney Love—got their own delightful solo to breakdance to Run-D.M.C.’s It’s Tricky (des. Phoebe McCrossin).
The next song of note, Bucky Done Gun by M.I.A., brought us undeniably into the 2000s. Four more dancers stepped out in distressed black denim and long sleeves with worn thumbholes; stripped-back but undeniably Avril Lavigne/Gerard Way-inspired (des. Kayla Rousselle & Fiona Lu). Glorious.
As the show’s timeline moved closer to the present day, the music became a gentle piano score. The nostalgia parties were over, it was time to take a harder look at ourselves and our time. The physical storytelling shone in this section and caused a real hush to fall over the audience. First Lincoln Swinerd and Nathan Arnott, then Aston Matheson and Tuscany King, wearing angelic white robes by Kaan Yazici and Shariah Diskin, respectively, played out two tableaus of queer love. Their movements together spoke of intimacy and joy, turmoil and pain and loss. My only grievance here was that Frank Ocean’s Thinking ‘Bout You was a jarring choice to set Aston and Tuscany’s performance to, which broke the spell for a while.
But we were right back into it as we hit the 2020s. To FKA Twigs’ Eusexa emerged the final four designs, by Eli Thompson, Ava O'Brien and Olivia Ferguson. There was no icon I could compare these pieces to, each of them different. Thompson’s works celebrated the reuse of materials the best, but it was O'Brien and Ferguson’s work that was the pièce de résistance. Their two designs shared a long train, emblazoned with signs of protest: Toitu te Tiriti, Free Palestine Now, Make Love Not War. As the whole cast lifted these messages high, it brought the show’s narrative full circle; for better or worse things may change, but hope remains.
Subversion was a very stylish show whose scale spanning 5 decades, each with multiple choreographed pieces, was impressive. There was a sense that the production had been rushed, in the way performers would flick a sidelong glance to match the others in action or timing. The production could have used another week of rehearsal.
But this aside, Subversion was a beautiful and strong celebration of community. It paid homage to decades past, those communities that never disappear but only change; it brought 30 wonderful artists together in a multidisciplinary showcase; and it brought together a crowd of Wellingtonians who, for half an hour, shared together the love of art.