T.H.E double bill explores themes of transience and extreme opposites.

Dance is often seen as an art form that pushes performers to their physical limits, and if it’s one company that knows how to do that while shaping the human form into art in motion, it’s T.H.E Dance Company. Presenting a double bill as part of their 2024 edition of the cont·act Contemporary Dance Festival, T.H.E has invited T.H.E’s Resident Choreographer Kim Jae Duk and Italian choreographer Ginevra Panzetti, of Panzetti/Ticconi to choreograph new work and presented by the T.H.E ensemble, each one dealing with beauty and movement in different forms, both harkening to the adaptability and power of the human body.

In Korean choreographer Kim Jae Duk’s Chorales, Kim explores perspectives of the body and beauty, focusing on movements of weaving and waving, where dancers Billy Keohavong, Klievert Jon Mendoza, Haruka Leilani Chan, Chang En, Jhou Han-Wei and Carmelita Nuelle Buay experience a sense of undulation, as if part of the sea. When the piece begins, we hear Kim’s compositions, reverberating throughout the amphitheatre, while the dancers come out in black costumes, designed by Loo An Ni.

The costumes, while all black, excel in terms of their texture and shape, allowing the dancers to breathe while their straight lines provide a clear juxtaposition against the background. The dancers begin as individuals, moving ever so slowly forward. Yet after some time, they start to find each other, while the beeping in the soundtrack almost acts like a signal, their movements and energy now bringing them closer to each other, always with some kind of purpose.

As they now gather, there is something calculated about their movements, pronounced and almost pushing out all their energy. Moving centrestage and with this staging, there is now nowhere to hide, and we see how demanding this piece is, the sweat clearly seen beading on their foreheads. Even as a group, they’re able to show their individual personalities, and the colours of their costumes, seen against the lighting (designed by Adrian Tan), allows the dancers to stand out.

The pacing now begins to increase, and while the dancers follow the beat and direction, there is room for improvisation, each doing their own interpretation, before coming back to the same actions. With a prolonged note, the lights dim and movements slow, and the dancers appear to be silhouettes moving in the dark, almost like a reminder of the need to calm down, breathe and appreciate all that is around us.

We now hear underwater bubbles over the soundtrack, it rising up to the surface, and we imagine that the dancers too are rising to the surface, floating elegantly as each action is drawn out to show their intention. As they start to raise their hands, it feels like they’re in a rave, enjoying the moment, yet with everything slowly down, its meditative and them catching their breath.

As the dancers spread themselves to the front of the stage, we hear intense drumming over the soundtrack. Light falls upon us, and the dancers step to the back of the stage, their movements intensifying, as they twist their bodies about, costumes unfurling. The duet between Klievert Jon Mendoza and Jhou Han-Wei is particularly well done, with the integration and movements both on and off stage is pleasing to the eye.

Now full steam towards the end, we feel the velocity and tenacity expressed by all the dancers, the speed increasing, yet the movements remaining tight. The sound of bubbles returns, and almost seems to highlight the rhythm of their breathing, while the light is intense, seemingly pushing their shadows onto the wall. The dance is over, yet we are left to continue contemplating the way the movements never seem to stop, and what to make of it.

In the second half of the double bill, dancers Klievert Jon Mendoza, Haruka Leilani Chan, Chang En, Jhou Han-Wei, and Carmelita Nuelle Buay performed MALEBRANCHE — Harleking multitude by Italian choreographer Ginevra Panzetti. Taking inspiration from Commedia dell’arte (comedy of the profession) and Dante Alighieri’s Inferno, the work opens with unsettling laughter, seemingly pushing the dancers out of their comfort zones. Dressed in bright yellow shades and shapes, they resemble jesters, or worse – blind followers of a despotic leader spewing propaganda.

The laughing never seems to stop, to the point of absurdity, where even if the dancers fall over, they simply laugh it off. Often we forget how laughter in and of itself is exhausting, burning plenty of calories, and an act of physical labour for the dancers as well. And even while laughing, they continue to perform – their hands moving around their face, kaleidoscopic actions that begin to feel almost hypnotic, drawing you ever closer. Looking at us, it appears almost sinister even.

Hearing the hammering of the soundtrack, we think of buildings pile driving the foundations, a constant thumping that bores into our minds. Their movements now seem to mimic that, reminding us of old elaborate grandfather clocks, with multiple elements coming together to form a cohesive whole. Whatever they consume, they expound it outwards.

Towards the end, complicity takes over, and absurd as it is, they coalesce and become one. The weaker ones succumb, their facial expressions in pain as Adrian Tan’s lighting illuminates them and accentuates every emotion. All five dancers are now on the floor, trying to get up slowly, as we hear constant chanting over the soundscape. We’re left curious, wondering what might happen next, as they start to wave and acknowledge the audience.

Perhaps the most terrifying thing of all is when they showcase a controversial gesture, an immediate symbol of fascism that calls to mind horrific violence, and how easy it can be to become indoctrinated by the far right, trapped in a form of groupthink. As they look at each other, Jhou Han-Wei is ousted from the group, and violence erupts, leaving only pain and destruction in its wake. Yet, somehow at the end of it all, they still begin to laugh again, haunting as we consider what is real and fake, how much of a person we truly know beneath their facade and the masks they wear.

Despite bringing in new members to the ensemble, through Elusive, T.H.E proves that they have a surefire method for building strong chemistry, as we watch these dancers trust each other onstage, confident yet vulnerable enough to rely on each other to do their part and play their roles. Each one showcasing incredible endurance, control and commitment to their choreography, T.H.E has once again proven the beauty of dance, the rigour that goes into preparing for it, and ultimately, how they’re capable of coming together to form a watertight ensemble, and bring their artistry to greater heights year on year.

Photo Credit: Crispian Chan

Elusive — a double bill by T.H.E Dance Company played from 28th to 30th June 2024 at the DBS Foundation Outdoor Theatre at Esplanade. More information available here

cont·act Contemporary Dance Festival 2024 – On the Cusp ran from 6th to 30th June 2024 across various venues. More information available here