Alia Marshall
It is a hot and sticky Saturday as I make my way to Tāwhiri, anxious that I’m about to get more sweaty in a big dark warehouse. I am on my way to Untitled Warehouse Project’s Entry: Encounter performance, with no expectations, but excited to see what my mates have been working on for the past few months. (Note: I am good friends with many of the designers and performers on this project, but I have done my best to provide an unbiased review).
The first thing we notice when we enter, before the performance has begun, are the lights (Jacob Banks) leading up to the bar. It is extremely dark, save for some soft red light, and what looks like old school street lights providing us with a dimly lit path. I feel as though I’ve stepped onto a film noir set as we wait for the show to begin, and I adore the drama of having the curtains open to reveal the space we are about to explore.
The performance begins slowly, giving us time to take in the scenography. As we wander around the performance space, taking in all of the scenographic elements - mesh hanging from the ceiling, raised platforms throughout the space, and a structure in the middle (designed by Rebekah De Roo) - I find myself eager to be a part of this world.
It is clear that something is happening when our main character (Emma Rattenbury) slips into the crowd, regarding us and the space wearily. I meet her eyes and she holds my gaze, even as I move deeper into the audience, I feel chosen somehow. Over the course of an hour, this character is pulled further and further into the chaos, her body becoming one with the other performers. As she gives in to her inhibitions and begins to dance, I find myself doing the same. She notices me grooving and grabs my hand. We weave through the groups of people, all of them now used to the game of staying out of the performers’ way, and I try not to worry about how clammy my hands are. This is such a joyous moment in the performance. I absolutely love when a project casts the audience member as performers too, giving us the freedom to lean into our playful instincts. I take my hat off to the performers, who never miss a beat and spend that full hour dancing their little hearts out and pulling us into their world. Daniel Nodder’s choreography is strange, beautiful, and ritualistic. I won’t lie, I would join a cult if everyone danced like this, it looks fun.
As a design-led project, I would be remiss not to spend some time dissecting the scenography. In the performance itself, Banks’ skills as a lighting designer are on full display, transforming the warehouse into a completely different world for us to explore through selective moments of darkness, strobe, and all the other fun things lights do. This leads me onto the AV (Rebekah De Roo) which is used to enhance the effect of the lights, and gives more texture to the already impressive lights and shadows that are being created - I think my favourite moment with the AV has to be the use of static which makes the eerie characters all the more unsettling. The performers are adorned in intricately crafted garments made by Anne-Lisa Noordover that heighten the strangeness of this space and flow beautifully with their movement, no doubt a very key consideration. Sound design is a huge aspect of this performance and Matt Asunder had their work cut out for them. Their hypnotic and repetitive design throws us all into a trance, broken only by sick drops or fleeting moments of pause where we can briefly return to reality before being thrown back in. Designers are some of the most important members of the creative team, yet most of the time they only receive credit if they’ve done a really killer job (or a really poor one), so it is wonderful to be able to see this show where the designers are taking centre stage.
There is a story here, but I can't exactly tell you what it is. It's one of those shows where, honestly, you just have to see it. The only drawback for me is how much there is going on at times in different parts of the room. I find myself worried I’m missing something important to the story; there are moments where several things are happening at once and I want to make sure I’ve taken in every beautiful aspect of this performance. In saying that, we had complete freedom to run around (which I did), and I think the narrative/blocking is crafted in such a way that no matter where you are, there is something to be seen. Perhaps my tendency to search for meaning in everything makes me a poor candidate to review this show, but I think I “got it”. Encounter asks you to give in to your curiosity, to allow the music to grab your hand and lead you through the darkness. At a time where everything is terrible, sometimes you just need to dance.
I leave feeling breathless and excited, desperate to go to the rave (Entry: After Dark) that I don't have tickets for. I've never been to a rave before, partially because I hate loud noises and bright lights and tight groups of sweaty people, but also because I hadn't really considered the purpose of them, until now. I find myself wanting to keep going, to keep dancing, to discover something new about the space or the performers or those around me. It’s an experience I can't really describe in words, I wish I could just write “Woah!!! Ohhhhh!!! Ahhhhh!!!”
I sincerely hope that the team behind Untitled Warehouse Project brings this performance back. Selfishly, it's because I want to see it again and make all my flatmates go so I have people I can talk to about it, but also because it is such an innovative way to draw new audiences to local arts. I wouldn’t describe it as a “show” or a piece of theatre, but it is an experience, one that I think everyone would enjoy being a part of.
Entry: Encounter closed on Saturday 22nd of February at Tāwhiri Warehouse.
The performance begins slowly, giving us time to take in the scenography. As we wander around the performance space, taking in all of the scenographic elements - mesh hanging from the ceiling, raised platforms throughout the space, and a structure in the middle (designed by Rebekah De Roo) - I find myself eager to be a part of this world.
It is clear that something is happening when our main character (Emma Rattenbury) slips into the crowd, regarding us and the space wearily. I meet her eyes and she holds my gaze, even as I move deeper into the audience, I feel chosen somehow. Over the course of an hour, this character is pulled further and further into the chaos, her body becoming one with the other performers. As she gives in to her inhibitions and begins to dance, I find myself doing the same. She notices me grooving and grabs my hand. We weave through the groups of people, all of them now used to the game of staying out of the performers’ way, and I try not to worry about how clammy my hands are. This is such a joyous moment in the performance. I absolutely love when a project casts the audience member as performers too, giving us the freedom to lean into our playful instincts. I take my hat off to the performers, who never miss a beat and spend that full hour dancing their little hearts out and pulling us into their world. Daniel Nodder’s choreography is strange, beautiful, and ritualistic. I won’t lie, I would join a cult if everyone danced like this, it looks fun.
As a design-led project, I would be remiss not to spend some time dissecting the scenography. In the performance itself, Banks’ skills as a lighting designer are on full display, transforming the warehouse into a completely different world for us to explore through selective moments of darkness, strobe, and all the other fun things lights do. This leads me onto the AV (Rebekah De Roo) which is used to enhance the effect of the lights, and gives more texture to the already impressive lights and shadows that are being created - I think my favourite moment with the AV has to be the use of static which makes the eerie characters all the more unsettling. The performers are adorned in intricately crafted garments made by Anne-Lisa Noordover that heighten the strangeness of this space and flow beautifully with their movement, no doubt a very key consideration. Sound design is a huge aspect of this performance and Matt Asunder had their work cut out for them. Their hypnotic and repetitive design throws us all into a trance, broken only by sick drops or fleeting moments of pause where we can briefly return to reality before being thrown back in. Designers are some of the most important members of the creative team, yet most of the time they only receive credit if they’ve done a really killer job (or a really poor one), so it is wonderful to be able to see this show where the designers are taking centre stage.
There is a story here, but I can't exactly tell you what it is. It's one of those shows where, honestly, you just have to see it. The only drawback for me is how much there is going on at times in different parts of the room. I find myself worried I’m missing something important to the story; there are moments where several things are happening at once and I want to make sure I’ve taken in every beautiful aspect of this performance. In saying that, we had complete freedom to run around (which I did), and I think the narrative/blocking is crafted in such a way that no matter where you are, there is something to be seen. Perhaps my tendency to search for meaning in everything makes me a poor candidate to review this show, but I think I “got it”. Encounter asks you to give in to your curiosity, to allow the music to grab your hand and lead you through the darkness. At a time where everything is terrible, sometimes you just need to dance.
I leave feeling breathless and excited, desperate to go to the rave (Entry: After Dark) that I don't have tickets for. I've never been to a rave before, partially because I hate loud noises and bright lights and tight groups of sweaty people, but also because I hadn't really considered the purpose of them, until now. I find myself wanting to keep going, to keep dancing, to discover something new about the space or the performers or those around me. It’s an experience I can't really describe in words, I wish I could just write “Woah!!! Ohhhhh!!! Ahhhhh!!!”
I sincerely hope that the team behind Untitled Warehouse Project brings this performance back. Selfishly, it's because I want to see it again and make all my flatmates go so I have people I can talk to about it, but also because it is such an innovative way to draw new audiences to local arts. I wouldn’t describe it as a “show” or a piece of theatre, but it is an experience, one that I think everyone would enjoy being a part of.
Entry: Encounter closed on Saturday 22nd of February at Tāwhiri Warehouse.