L-R: Jenni Large, Ella-Rose Trew and Storm Helmore. Photo by Ashley de Prazer
Mouseprint, a new dance performance by emerging West Australian choreographer and dancer Isabella Stone, offered little in the way of emotion, colour, or sensuality. A series of functional movements by three unadorned dancers on a blank stage, sometimes accompanied by music, the work is staged in the cold Perth Theatre Centre courtyard; it felt like an endurance test.
It starts with our plainly dressed (tights, t-shirts, skirt) dancers moving around and stopping in naturalistic poses. No music accompanies this stop and start movement, which felt almost clinically presented. For these first six minutes we hear only ambient traffic noise, including a revving motorbike. There is no collaboration of bodies until the dancers lie down on the stage together, still.
Another sequence sees a lone dancer again lying still on the stage, unresponsive as a second dancer rolls into them. The choreographer’s program notes say the work asks the question, ‘if fine print existed in people, how does it translate emotionally? Resonate physically?’ yet there is no emotion response evident in this sequence.
Later, accompanied by Steve Reich’s distorted feedback from his track ‘Pendulum’, the three dancers, at different times, bend in half and swing their arms like the pendulum in a clock. The soundtrack here was abrasive, almost assaulting.
About halfway through the 50 minute work, the dancers briefly performed some formation work together, which was loose, but a high point nonetheless. Elsewhere we saw them walking across the stage in pairs or threes, or lying on the ground, or being dragged by one another. The connection between these movements and the program notes’ discussion of ‘repercussion, loopholes and assumptions’ was not clear. The only moment when these concepts were perhaps evident was the thrice-played action of one dancer sitting holding up her left arm and the other dancer, on all fours perpendicular to her, resting her forehead against the other dancer’s hand. On the third occasion this happened, there was resistance and engagement, with some push and pull between the dancers. Finally some sense of the invisible forces interacting (‘unspoken agreements and conversations that appear in everyday relationships,’ to quote the program notes again) but we needed to see that interaction to see that contrast. Overall, the dancer’s actions felt devoid of emotion.
Jenni Large showed a fluidity and grace in her movements, whereas Storm Helmore seemed somewhat self-conscious. From initial awkwardness, Ella-Rose Trew moved into a muscularity individuality, but the superficiality of the choreography somewhat hampered her.
Chris Donnelly’s lighting design was minimal but the use of spotlight or backlighting on several occasions worked well. Brett Smith’s sound design consisted of five distinct pieces, and save for the aforementioned Steve Reich piece, it was an often quiet accompaniment to proceedings.
For a work that has had two years development, Mouseprint felt under-developed and inaccessible. There was the impression of an absence of ordinary human emotion, despite the claims of the program notes to the contrary.
Rating: 2 stars out of 5​
Mouseprint
Choreographer: Isabella Stone
Performers: Storm Helmore, Jenni Large and Ella-Rose Trew
Lighting Design: Chris Donnelly
Sound Design: Brett Smith
Producer: Sarah Rowbottam
State Theatre Centre of Western Australia, Courtyard
15–18 April 2015
