Presented by Cloe Fournier
@ Bakehouse Theatre,
MONDAY 5th March (until Sunday 11 March)
I’ll say this upfront, in the spirit of openness and accountability: I don’t know much about contemporary dance.
I mean, I can barely dance myself (as my loved ones will attest). My best work, which is nowhere near acceptable, happens after a few ill-considered tequila shots and usually to Sir Mix-a-Lot’s classic piece ‘Baby Got Back’.
However, french-born, Australia-living choreographer Cloe Fournier can dance.
Fournier’s first major solo piece, Dining Uns-table, explores the agonising theme of failed family relationships; the abusers, the victims and those who simply let it happen.
Through a series of short, sometimes uncomfortably quiet, sometimes confronting, explosive scenes, Fournier tells a story of neglect with minimal words but instead though spurts of emotional and physical action.
Building her piece around the concept of the familial dining table as a cultural reference for sharing and affection, Fournier intelligently investigates the devastating, horrific truths that often linger under the surface, remaining undiscussed.
A graduate of the Conservatore a Rayonnement Regional de Saint-Etinenne and the Unversite Lumieres Lyon II in France, Fournier has been involved in a number of companies and productions since hitting Australian shores in 2007.
Under the mentorship of Australia Council fellow Dean Walsh, Fournier builds on her previous work Erase, which showed at the Melbourne Fringe last year, infusing her extensive background of dance, theatre and choreography into this show.
During Dining Uns-Table Fournier clearly demonstrates enormous control over her body. During scenes of violence she contorts her body and throws it across the stage with a graceful abandon that is both brave and bone-chilling. Quiet scenes, sometimes spoken in her mother tongue, are raw and unnerving.
This is a piece that is obviously very close to the artist’s heart, which in itself is heart-breaking. The use of Fournier’s maternal and paternal surnames during the performance tells the audience enough about its personal nature.
The Bakehouse Theatre is a perfect venue for this performance, with its pokey stages and relatively homely feel. You can imagine being witness to the action in someone’s home.
However, it would be unfair to omit that all her pre-arranged volunteer family members did not turn up to the performance, leaving her to improvise scenes and the audience to pretend there was people there.* This was an unfortunate drawback of the night.
Also at the times the action can become confusing and the storyline unclear, particularly if you don’t have a background in this art.
These aspects aside this piece has the potential to be incredibly effective and enjoyed by lovers of contemporary dance.
I do stress that you should have a penchant for contemporary dance to truly appreciate this show. You probably should also have a strong stomach for confrontational theatre and dance.
Dining Uns-table is sobering, erratic and challenging. Dance fans will be touched by this personal performance.
It will leave one cherishing the luck of a happy childhood or, at the very least, reflecting on the moral obligations to family and the devastating impact of a father’s destain for his little girl.
Dining Uns-table is showing until 11 March. Grab your tickets through Fringetix.
* The company is looking for volunteer audience members, please contact them via the Adelaide Fringe website should you want to help out (and actually rock up, please).