Opening night at Sydney Theatre, of the much anticipated Babel (words). When the lights went out, the music stopped. The audience stood in their seats applauding with gusto. I sat and clapped.

It happens sometimes. I feel completely disconnected with the audience, as though I have just witnessed a completely different event. Babel (words) starts with a bang a crisp dialogue delivered in gesture and voice. It’s interesting. Very.

But as the night wore on, I was worn out by “interesting.” I was fatigued by the cleverness of each idea which was stretched and explored and expanded and explained. And then once I was fatigued by the same direct address didactic tone of the work, I began imagining other possibilities for the metal frames on stage – i willed the performers to climb the tower they had made. I wished that they would swing and twist acrobatically on top of the structures. I wished for a shift in light- in colour and intensity. I was distracted.

In my review below – I tried to explain what I felt was missing from the piece… and perhaps it was my empathy – or any sort of emotional connection with the individuals as their characters emerged?
I then started to question who this audience was that had stood and applauded and then tweeted so passionately the hour after the show finished?

I wondered why the very confident punter known as “Abc” commented on the Sydney Festival website claiming: “Excellent … it is EUROPEAN! Australian dance companies please watch and learn what is called contemporary dance. ”

Wow.

A statement like that which completely ignores the work of Graeme Murphy, Bangarra Dance Company and Shaun Parker. Cultural cringe, anyone?

All of a sudden I started to examine the subtle and uncomfortable implications of a largely white audience watching this work.

I also started to recall how it was very obvious which performers were Japanese, American or French and yet the two Australians – where was their cultural representation and “voice” in this piece? If you didn’t read the biographies, you wouldn’t know except for a moment where in a performer identifies herself in cliche – a very broad accent punctuated with the word “mate.” And yet – were the others presenting cliche? Or were they presenting culture/language?

The other difficulty I had with the piece was I was confused who to follow – and who were what characters. Was the narrator a robot? Or a woman? Or a time machine? Or a Blow up doll? Or a wind-up doll? I was confused about who she was and what she was doing or what she was representing.

I also wondered what the piece would be without text. Without narration or direct address. Would the music and the title be enough for me to “get it?”

It seemed that in the attempt to avoid miscommunication about language and communication, I became disconnected in the hunt for meaning, emotional connection.

But, it appears, others last night weren’t fatigued. They didn’t question the political context of these ideas. They weren’t distracted.

I was.

Written for www.australianstage.com.au

In the inside cover of each Sydney Festival program, you’ll find the show which is destined to have the ultimate enmasse “wow” factor – the show that blasts its way through all advertising, all promotions and sells out after everyone has been lathering each other with effusive talk which hypes up the event into the “must see event of the festival – previous years it was Robert Lepage, or the Schaubuhne’s Hamlet – this year it is Babel (Words).

On the vast stage of the Sydney Theatre – usually reserved for grand scale work and bold touring out-of-towners and Cate Blanchett – there is a series of steel framed structures. They sit simply, occasionally catching light, like an oversized desk toy. The start is spoken by a woman, gesticulating wildly as she explains the history of human communication.

According to the book of Genesis in the Bible, language was splintered by God as punishment for building a tower and all the people’s language was confused. The story explains why there is a diverse array of languages.

Babel comes from the Hebrew word “balal” which means to jumble.

And this production is a jumble of form and genres, performance modes and practices, cultures, music, bodies which is drawn from eighteen performers from thirteen countries with fifteen languages – but there is a precision in it’s content which defies the usual association of chaos with the word “jumble.”

Using both physical and verbal languages, performers respond to a collage of ancient musical styles described in the program as “an intense vocal fusion of East and West, live Hindi beats, taiko drumming and medieval music.” The performers shift: sometimes a forceful unified ensemble – sometimes a splintered cacophony of solo work – sometimes a sensuous duet. And it is technically precise and often the vocal work is very crisp.

With set design by acclaimed British sculptor Antony Gormley, and choreographed by Sidi Larbi Cherkaoui and Damien Jalet – there is no shortage of spectacle. No shortage of impressive physical vignettes executed with precision by musicians Patrizia Bovi, Mahabub Khan, Sattar Khan, Gabriele Miracle and Kazunari Abe and performers – Navala Chaudary, Darryl E Woods, Damien Fournier, Ben Fury, Paea Leach, Christine Leboutte, Ulrika Kinn Svensson, Kazutomi Kozuki, Sandra Delgadillo Porcel, Helder, Seabra, Jon Filip Fahlstrom, James O’Hara and Damien Jalet.

However.

Interesting that this was billed as contemporary dance in the festival – also interesting how much this dance relied on spoken text of various language to make its point – and it wasn’t necessarily a particularly new point – nor delivered in a new way.

Although this work is, from all outward appearances, one which confronts ideas of nationhood and of cultural identity – it failed to reach into real confrontation. It did not show the true consequence of prejudice between cultures or nations– the holocaust, the war on terror, a world which is fractured and destroying itself through the superficiality of our species and the fear of difference. What is presented is a fairly homogenized whole – one where English is predominant language, where despite the varied cultural backgrounds, some performers were consumed by a very European contemporary dance mode. It is a fairly safe and friendly show – more of a medative reminder that under our skin, we all feel pain and love, and reach for apples.

Without truly committing to the idea of cultural atrocity, without us witnessing the horror of miscommunication or misunderstanding – a horror that goes beyond an airport interrogation and without acknowledging the political consequences of “difference”, the content morphed into a harmless investigation about self in society.

As such this was a fairly simple experimentation with cross-cultural performative practices and an entertaining presentation of a multiplicity of styles. As far as a portrayal of the story of Babel – the story was used as a departure point for the artists to explode into investigations (but not interrogations) of themes of identity and to express all they can about tensions between the internal and the external world. And that is entertaining – though in sections long winded and at some points so exhaustively examined it leaves little room for the audience to come to any great independent epiphany.

But, this is a technically impressive piece of work – which has already delighted Sydney by its message of inclusivity and unity.