Sean Burnett Dugdale-Martin
Every now and then you go to a show and think “Thank god this was made.” Show do Cafe is a warm embrace of a dance show, a mix of live and recorded music, with a thick aroma of coffee hanging in the air. It is a joyous and heartfelt immersive performance which explores the profound impact of coffee on society.
I had not seen the Fringe season of Show do Cafe which won the Best in Fringe 2024 award and so tonight, a Wednesday in Wellington, I hustle into the Hannah Playhouse to see this award-winning piece for its final performance of its tour. Heading into the theatre I am handed cardboard coffee takeaway cups with coffee beans in them and I am greeted by the performers.
The performers and collaborators: Tasman Kaitara, Ella Williams, Anna Resende, Hayden Nickel, Sefa Tonupopo, Lila Junior Crichton form the ensemble alongside director Stela Dara Resende Albuquerque and all are caught under the radiance of Isadora Lao’s lighting design. I enjoy dance shows (even though this show branches outside of that genre, and sometimes off the stage entirely) because of the possible multiplicity of its interpretations. For this review I can only draw on what the show evoked for me and from my perspective it was an anthology, of sorts, about the concept of coffee and its relationship with humans across multiple contexts.
The elements of greatest impact within the show, for me, lie in the contrast between scenes. Each scene has a clear emotional root, whether they be about workers working in rows to sow the seeds of the plants or creating an immersive space where coffee and scone bites are handed out. We spend enough time in a scene in order to really feel the weight of the juxtaposition when Show do Cafe moves towards its next point. There is a scene where a character is lamenting, mourning through song, and the ensemble is on stage supporting them in a chorus behind her. “I have to go / I will miss you so” (Pardon me if I didn’t get those lyrics right) but there is a great sense of loss pushed out onto the crowd. Immediately following this we have a scene taking place in what could be any of the Raglan Roasts in Wellington. A hooded barista making cup after takeaway cup for those waltzing in and lining up. The music playing over the speakers is as you would expect in this setting: upbeat, cool and quite generic. I’ve been to this cafe, and you probably have too. By demonstrating different contexts in quick succession I can’t help but draw conclusions: our experience versus theirs.
The first half of the show revolves entirely around the Brazilian experience and relationship with coffee and I must credit Lao for the lighting design here. The Hannah Playhouse has iconic, large concrete-looking walls either side of the stage and by placing lights on the floor, shooting up at the performers, it casts large shadows against these walls. Shadows dance across them, like against the sides of houses when dancing around a fire. It projects the joy of the performers across a long, cultural history. It is only over halfway through the show, does Show do Cafe transport us to familiar territory. Connecting the dots between the harshness of the work, the love felt between communities, connections forged through the culture, to how we treat the steaming hot go-go juice. My impression of this third act is as a critique of our use of coffee. Often a hangover cure or as fuel to hustle through something. Even now I drink my coffee at my desk as I write this between classes (I’m a teacher). My relationship to coffee is one of addiction, it’s something I need two of a day minimum to stave off headaches and afternoon crashes. I take it all for granted; the blood, sweat, tears shed over my instant coffee tins. I think about this as Crichton floats up the aisle, extending cardboard cups of hot coffee to open-handed audience members.
Show do Cafe wraps its arms around us and yet does not hold back its harsh mirror to our cultural abuse of a substance. What makes this show work, considering the lengths of time it takes to make sure each audience member has been offered coffee, is because it is resolute in its decisions. I’ve felt a similar way in only one other show, Krishnan’s Party where they cook a meal during the show and the audience shares the dahl at the end.
This piece of art is powerful in its calmness. It knows what it wants to say, and every member of the ensemble appears to be loving their time together helping to communicate it. If you haven’t seen this show, then you’ll have to wait for the next tour (and the word I want to use is ‘inevitable’). More info for the season that was can be found here.
Five stars.
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐
The performers and collaborators: Tasman Kaitara, Ella Williams, Anna Resende, Hayden Nickel, Sefa Tonupopo, Lila Junior Crichton form the ensemble alongside director Stela Dara Resende Albuquerque and all are caught under the radiance of Isadora Lao’s lighting design. I enjoy dance shows (even though this show branches outside of that genre, and sometimes off the stage entirely) because of the possible multiplicity of its interpretations. For this review I can only draw on what the show evoked for me and from my perspective it was an anthology, of sorts, about the concept of coffee and its relationship with humans across multiple contexts.
The elements of greatest impact within the show, for me, lie in the contrast between scenes. Each scene has a clear emotional root, whether they be about workers working in rows to sow the seeds of the plants or creating an immersive space where coffee and scone bites are handed out. We spend enough time in a scene in order to really feel the weight of the juxtaposition when Show do Cafe moves towards its next point. There is a scene where a character is lamenting, mourning through song, and the ensemble is on stage supporting them in a chorus behind her. “I have to go / I will miss you so” (Pardon me if I didn’t get those lyrics right) but there is a great sense of loss pushed out onto the crowd. Immediately following this we have a scene taking place in what could be any of the Raglan Roasts in Wellington. A hooded barista making cup after takeaway cup for those waltzing in and lining up. The music playing over the speakers is as you would expect in this setting: upbeat, cool and quite generic. I’ve been to this cafe, and you probably have too. By demonstrating different contexts in quick succession I can’t help but draw conclusions: our experience versus theirs.
The first half of the show revolves entirely around the Brazilian experience and relationship with coffee and I must credit Lao for the lighting design here. The Hannah Playhouse has iconic, large concrete-looking walls either side of the stage and by placing lights on the floor, shooting up at the performers, it casts large shadows against these walls. Shadows dance across them, like against the sides of houses when dancing around a fire. It projects the joy of the performers across a long, cultural history. It is only over halfway through the show, does Show do Cafe transport us to familiar territory. Connecting the dots between the harshness of the work, the love felt between communities, connections forged through the culture, to how we treat the steaming hot go-go juice. My impression of this third act is as a critique of our use of coffee. Often a hangover cure or as fuel to hustle through something. Even now I drink my coffee at my desk as I write this between classes (I’m a teacher). My relationship to coffee is one of addiction, it’s something I need two of a day minimum to stave off headaches and afternoon crashes. I take it all for granted; the blood, sweat, tears shed over my instant coffee tins. I think about this as Crichton floats up the aisle, extending cardboard cups of hot coffee to open-handed audience members.
Show do Cafe wraps its arms around us and yet does not hold back its harsh mirror to our cultural abuse of a substance. What makes this show work, considering the lengths of time it takes to make sure each audience member has been offered coffee, is because it is resolute in its decisions. I’ve felt a similar way in only one other show, Krishnan’s Party where they cook a meal during the show and the audience shares the dahl at the end.
This piece of art is powerful in its calmness. It knows what it wants to say, and every member of the ensemble appears to be loving their time together helping to communicate it. If you haven’t seen this show, then you’ll have to wait for the next tour (and the word I want to use is ‘inevitable’). More info for the season that was can be found here.
Five stars.
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐