Review: Manifesto
Manifesto is a feast for many of the senses; a compelling show that offers ‘time away from time.’ Nine drumkits, nine chairs, nine talented drummers, nine dancers, three costume changes, and thirteen creatives combine to create one special 60 minute experience.
Don’t be put off by the thought of nine drumkits in the one space. Some members of the audience had brought ear plugs, and audience information warned of loud noise. I certainly felt the beat from time to time, but I didn’t leave with my ears ringing (thanks to excellent work by James Wilkinson, sound engineer).
The interplay between the music and dance was fabulous to watch. For most of the piece all eighteen performers were so closely aligned that the moves conveyed the sentiment of the music, and the score simultaneously reflected the emotion of the dance. But it is equally special to enjoy moments where dancers respond to the drumbeat, and when drummers switch to respond to the dance.
A standout for me was Robin Fox’s composition. The music was moving, uplifting, exciting, and even occasionally otherworldly, with the clever use of the drum kits to bring out a wide variety of sounds. As a fan of the rhythmic and powerful taiko (kumi-daiko) drumming, I certainly noticed some wadaiko references, but the score also evoked moments of heartbeat, storm and nightmare, as well as funeral and military marches. All parts of the drum kits were brought into play—including the use of cymbals to conjure gamelan-style sounds.
Stephanie Lake (Artistic Director & Choreographer) and the creative team are exceptionally well-served by the dancers (Rachel Coulson, Marni Green, Samantha Hines, Melissa Pham, Harrison Ritchie-Jones, Robert Tinning, Josie Weise, Kimball Wong, and Jack Ziesing). The ensemble work is fabulous. The opening piece intrigued and then delighted the audience, and there were many moments of exuberance, sadness, and excitement throughout the performance. We all enjoyed the final frenzy of sheer joy and madness, but the choreography also includes a number of special solos, duets and trios that interpret and respond to the score, requiring the dancers to demonstrate great trust, control and skill.
Which all means that the biggest challenge for the audience is just where to look. Much as I want to enjoy every move of such skilled dancers, it is captivating to watch the work of talented drummers (Robbie Avenaim, Nat Grant, Maria Moles, Tina Nguyen, Rama Parwata, Alex Roper, Jen Tait, Mathew Watson, and Rachel Trainor).
Manifesto benefits from a strong creative team. The set and lighting design is deceptively simple but really enhances the experience—including synchronising spotlights to move as sound travels ‘across’ the drumkits (Set Designer Charles Davis, and Lighting Designer Bosco Shaw [with Rachel Lee as assistant lighting designer]). The costumes must be a delight for the dancers to work in, and I read the designs as suggested three main Manifesto ‘movements:’ opening with the white ‘suits’ (with their ‘drumstick’ black lines), moving to the more casual ‘beach’ styling, and finally the sleep-over ‘nightwear.’ Well, that was my interpretation of the work by Paula Levis (Costume Designer) and Fiona Holley (Costume Maker), so apologies if that was not their vision!
I have generally understood a ‘manifesto’ as a statement of plans for action or points of view, particularly of a political party. Pondering the naming of this show after the performance, I discovered that ‘manifesto’ and ‘manifest’ (the latter being that which is easy to understand) have Latin roots, drawing on the word ‘manus’ (hand). Manifesto calls on many of the senses, offering a rich emotional experience: from still anticipation, through to sorrow, fear, tenderness, humour, joy, and even sheer frenzy. This is a manifesto that presents no written plan to the audience—as Manifesto demonstrates that communication does not always require the written or spoken word.
Verdict: Manifesto captured this particular audience member. It is a long time since I have attended a show where I was completely ‘in the moment’ of the performance. If you are looking for 60 minutes of time away from the day-to-day, and from the spoken word, I recommend Manifesto as an energising, visceral and joyous way in which to unplug and refocus.
Audience information: The world premiere QPAC run of Manifesto closed on 17 September 2022. All ages, but note limited smoke haze and loud music. Tickets $45 (plus booking fee). 60 minutes, no interval.
The reviewer attended the 15 September 2022 performance (7:30pm). The original version of this review appeared at Nothing Ever Happens in Brisbane.
Picture supplied.