There was a long pause of silence after the routine announcement.
A long, pause.
I was wondering if there was a technical problem preventing the show to begin.
Then suddenly a deafening thundering drum sound launched the audience into a feast of stunning visual and audio journey.
Some figures performing Maori dance, with occasional clapping on an otherwise quiet stage.
An angel with very small pair of wings moved slowly across the stage, interjecting the stage with loud sad yells that echoed throughout the theatre. The angel stared at the audience, with despair. Then turned away.
An actor moving across stage like a four legged creature, silently, around the lit area of the stage, as if trying carefully not to be seen. Moment later, he would return and pace the stage in circle, round and round, until being dragged away by the angel.
A naked man lying on a table, worming, while ghostly faces flashes across him behind the stage.
There were no words until eventually a man dressed in suit and tie came on stage to deliver a long speech in Maori. I did not understand a word he said, but there was clearly anger in his voice. Very angry.
It was easy to love this performance. Just like it was easy to hate it.
If anyone tried to make out the story line of Tempest from this performance, chances are he/she would hate it.
I never read Tempest. So there was no story line for me to try to match with the images in front of me. I just let the images and sound to transport me into a world that is out of this world. I suspect it lies somewhere near the hell, based on what I experienced. They grabbed me right from that thundering beginning and never let go until the end. And then, I could breathe again.
That is how I love a performance. Easily the best performance I attended in this Singapore Arts Festival.
I went home and read the programme booklet, in which a long text was created by Lemi Ponifasio (the creator of this piece) based on views expressed by members of the Tuhoe tribe before the New Zealand government in 2005. It set this audience to meditate about the price (lost) of humankind in embracing (enforcing) modernisation:-
‘… We are the lake, The Lake is us. We are the mountain, The mountain is us. We are the forest, And the forest is us. We are the stars. There is one spirit is all creation, That is the unity of all creation. That is what our ancestors passed on. Our lands were stolen, So too were our gardens and our cultivations. Our ancestors were abducted and moved from their homes. Away from the lake, Away from our food sources. And our ancestors lived in abject poverty with little food. That is why I describe you as people who consume their own mother …
… The genesis of this ideology is in your supreme belief that fair civilization is superior. Your laws are superior. Your institutions are superior. Your god is superior. Your language is superior. Your physical look is superior. And to this day you still believe in your superiority. I stand here before you wondering of my redemption. I look at the endless horizon, Questioning my direction. Questioning the fairness of life. Questioning justice. Dreaming of a better life for my people. I too have a dream. I too have children and a family. I too want to be free. I too will die like you. Then you and I will become the one body of Papatuanuku.’
Tempest: Without a Body. By Lemi Ponifasio/MAU.
