Sticking to their philosophy of ‘their company being the community’, Tracks Dance has delivered, yet again, a successful entertainment that tells local stories using local people.

Performed on the circular grassed area of The Velodrome (Darwin’s bicycle stadium), directors Tim Newth and David McMicken used this inspired choice for a dance performance space to great effect in their Darwin Festival show. Set in the November build-up season, an inventive human metaphor was ever-present: long distance runners from the community pounded out a marathon on the track, circling the audience and performers for the duration of the 90 minute show. Just like marathons, build-up seasons take stamina and strength to endure. A seething time of relentless humidity, sweat, and increasing tension, not everyone survives the build-up. People pack up and leave, relationships break down and people die, which is what happens in the three scenarios presented.

Making the plucky decision to split the audience into three groups, every audience member was tagged with a coloured wristband, yellow, blue or red, before the show began. The sold out crowd was then let loose into the arena and instructed to follow the usher whose coloured umbrella matched their wristband. Led by their usher, the three groups travelled from one performance space to the next. Three stories, of less than half an hour each, were played out simultaneously, each one to the same driving soundtrack that would not have been out of place in a 1980s gay nightclub, complete with Bronski Beat’s Heatwave and Olivia Newton John’s Physical. The soundtrack acted as a guide, a support for the action. The repetition was strangely comforting as it became more familiar with each dance, booming out over the vast arena.

Not only was the arena itself vast, so was the sky above. The Top End sky, with its twinkling stars and crescent moon, is the omnipotent extra character in all of Newth and McMicken’s outdoor performances. On a clear 20 degree August night in Darwin the inky sky is a visible reminder of the power of nature and our lack of control over it. Indeed, it’s often the other way around. The characters of the superhero (Ricky Borg) and adult daughter (Shaan Myall), particularly, seemed driven a bit mad by the oppressive November humidity.

The cost of this vast, charming location, however, is a loss of intimacy between dancers and audience. Seated in a large semicircle, many punters (myself included) were positioned far away from the action, facial expressions, and, ultimately, the emotion of the piece. Compounded by the short episode structure, the dancers sometimes fell into a being a bunch of bodies jumping, leaping and doing tricks, rather than any meaningful storytelling or meaty emotional development going on.

The highlight of the superhero story was a playful routine displaying male strength, ego, and agility. Real weightlifters were an impressive addition to the mother-daughter story while the women’s quirky office routine (executed on chairs with wheels) showed all the hallmarks of office politics.

But it was the Immigrant’s story that was the most grounded and focussed of the three, the action being much less frenetic. There were gardeners slowly planting trees in mounds of dirt, backbreaking work, punctuated by mesmerizing Tai Chi movements. This piece was also the most emotionally engaging. Erwin Fenis (the immigrant) is a dancer who can also act. It’s in dancers like Fenis and Myall that you can see nuanced, muscular characters. These performers are truly in the moment and have control of their bodies.

Recurring characters in Endurance were three children (referred to in the program as Mini Me/Kite) played by Nathaniel Kelly, Tahnee Cvirn and Matthew Cunliffe. Each had a kite that they were trying to fly, capturing the energy and perseverance of childhood play. Like ghosts of the adult characters, they reappeared again and again until finally, toward the end of the show, the adult and child recognised each other and connected. Perhaps this was a reminder for us to look after our inner child, especially when times are tough. They are the ones who know how to endure, often better than our adult selves.

In the finale, as the intense build-up was broken by the first rain of the Wet Season, the entire company appeared on stage. ‘Life in a Northern Town’ blasted across the arena. It was a spine-tingling moment. The relief expressed by the performers after such intense activity was palpable and joyous. It seemed like everyone belonged, including the audience. The creators of Endurance know this community connected through an inescapable, shared experience. In knowing their community so well, Tracks Dance continually adds to the unique cultural heart of the Northern Territory.

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