Concrete Playground

A passing glance at Chunky Move's latest work, Connected, might conjure up images of medieval torture devices. For what other reason would someone be connected by strings from their back that run into what appears to be a Catherine Wheel? However, it is a closer look that reveals the sane, less bloodthirsty answer. Suspended above the performers is a complex web of paper, wire and string: a geometric net frozen in the air.

Constructed by Californian artist, Reuben Margolin, this device echoes the movements of the connected dancers in real-time to produce temporary sculptures. While the principles behind the device's construction appear to be simple — a criss-cross of joints and bars — there is a wealth of mathematical brain-crunching driving their fluid articulation. As a result, Margolin's device becomes a major performer in Connected, working alongside the human dancers — directed and choreographed by Gideon Obarzanek — to create a series of clean, physical sequences that grow increasingly complex throughout the piece.

Connected is a fantastic conceptual follow-up to Chunky Move's other works, Mortal Engine and Glow. Both of these earlier works explored the role of a human interface in manipulating audiovisual technologies. But, rather than hyperjumping to the far regions of digital performance forever more, Obarzanek has turned the clock back to old-school mechanics. The device at the heart of Connected does not run on electricity. Its movement is stimulated only by the dancer it is coupled to, and it is in this that the show presents a timely reminder. Technology may provide us with flashy new frontiers but, ultimately, what drives any application is still very much grounded in our humanity.

Catch this living wave-form sculpture in Sydney before Connected jumps the oceans to South Korea and the USA.

Image by Jeff Busby