Preparing Ground | BlakDance & Brisbane Festival

All images: Sam James

when Country is scarred

when language is silenced

when Indigenous Knowledges offer pathways to heal

when communities gather to lead change

when survival depends on care for the environment and each other

(Extract - BlakDance) 

There’s an air of anticipation and expectation as the audience streams into an already packed auditorium for the opening night of Preparing Ground. This is the culmination of six years of intensive creative development through collaboration with the performers’ Communities on their Countries.

Tonight, the Cremorne Theatre has been converted into an intimate and inviting space, a performance area with minimal boundaries. Eight projectors are lined up on either side of this welcoming space. Projectors display moving images of flora across three set designs of varying sizes, positioned towards the back. A lone dancer (Marilyn Miller/Kukuyalanji, Waanyi) steps into this intimate space and moves freely to the soothing soundscape. She is joined by Jasmin Sheppard (Tagalaka, Kurtitjar) and Katina Olsen (Wakka Wakka, Kombumerri), and so begins this contemporary dance work that, from the outset, boldly promises to embody First Nations storytelling. 

What does it mean to “prepare ground”?

Accompanied by Samuel J Pankhurst’s electrifying sound design, Miller, Sheppard and Olsen took this audience member on an unforgettable and immersive journey through what it means to Prepare Ground from a First Nations perspective. Through the medium of contemporary dance—strongly supported by cultural dance forms—these three multi-talented Blak females unpacked themes that authentically conveyed their deep connection to Country. Their multidisciplinary approach also unpacked the dehumanising colonisation of First Nations people, the generational trauma of their forced removal, the unjust banishment of speaking their language, the sorrowful devastation of Country brought about through greed, and finally the desecration of Country in order to appease rapidly growing infrastructure—simple, tangible elements cleverly used to convey this profound message. 

This undeniably dark period in First Nations history was aesthetically juxtaposed by the dancers’ joyous connection to Country—the ceremonies passed on from generation to generation, and the value it places in caring for Country. These light-filled moments were performed with joy and wonder—the caressing of a leaf, the awe-inspiring night sky, and the calming effect of a gurgling stream. 

All images: Sam James

A poignant scene when the trio get together and exchange a conversation purely through gestures was truly remarkable, and captivated the very essence of their connection without a word having to be expressed. This is a testament to the versatility and skill of Miller, Sheppard and Olsen, each gifted Blak choreographers/dancers/performers, even in silence. 

Sheppard’s solo dance routine was extremely powerful. Her onstage persona convincingly embodied the overarching traits of a coloniser, her threatening demeanour conveyed through abstract dance moves, emotive facial expressions and her undeniable command when subjugating Miller and Olsen as they huddled together in fear. Sheppard’s adept choreography and manipulation of a menacing-looking set of metal chains had this audience member cowering in her seat! As much I wanted to, I couldn't tear my eyes away from the trio’s mesmerising performance in this particular segment. 

Samuel James’s ingenious set and projection, coupled with Karen Norris’s (Moriori Mari) electrifying lighting (no pun intended), were a focal point and ensured the success of this stellar dance production. The duo’s projections and lighting transformed the entire space into a lush landscape, a twinkling night sky, a turbulent ocean, a calm stream, and even a stomping ground that sometimes included the floor for extra grandeur. James’s versatile set design became the backdrop for his projections. These could be easily moved into various positions by the dancers, were constructed of a sheer material held together by wooden struts, and together with Norris’s lighting, enhanced the overall atmosphere of what was unfolding on stage –imaginatively morphing into a ship, a screen, and a mountain. 

Sound designer Samuel J Pankhurst captured the sounds of nature — the turbulence of the ocean, the twitterings of wildlife, the melodious sound of a stream—to perfection. On the other hand, the rape, pillage and devastation of Country were equally impressive, relayed in sound attuned to this dramatic and unsettling change of pace. 

Aleisa Jelbart’s costumes were designed with functionality and colour in mind. Loose-fitting, comfortable culottes in soft colours contrasted with earthy toned tops. The performers were bare-foot for the most part, and their backs were exposed in some scenes, on which James’s projections sprang to life, rippling effectively across the dancers’ exposed skin.

Dramaturg Victoria Hunt’s (Te Arawa, Ngati Kahungunu, Rongowhakaata Maori) input in defining the dramatic structure and impactful storytelling is evident throughout the unfolding of this stellar dance production. Hunt’s expertise in collaboration with the creative team has undoubtedly enhanced the clarity and impact of the overall outcome.  

Praise to Miller, Sheppard and Olsen for having the patience, the resilience, and the determination to never lose sight of bringing their story to life in this powerfully evocative, palpable production. Six YEARS in the making, resulting in SIXTY minutes of raw, visceral, adrenaline-pumping choreography — in collaboration with a visionary team — is no mean feat, and its unexpected ending still resonates within my very being.

So, what does it mean to “prepare ground”?

The trio’s empowering message is jarringly loud… if we don’t care for Country, there won’t be a Country to care for in the future!