Wudjang: Not the Past | Adelaide Festival 2022 review

What makes Wudjang really stand apart is the operatic scale and intense focus of Bangarra’s departing artistic director Stephen Page.

Wudjang: Not the Past, by Bangarra Dance Theatre. Performers Kirk Page, Lillian Banks and Elma Kris. Picture: Chris Kidd

Wudjang: Not the Past

Dance – Australia

Festival Theatre

Until March 18

Bangarra Dance Theatre’s Wudjang: Not The Past is an important work in many ways, not least the farewell offering from the company’s founding director Stephen Page after an extraordinary 32 years.

But what makes it really stand apart is its scale and focus – the scale enormous, the focus intense.

Wudjang: Not the Past, by Bangarra Dance Theatre. Performers Kirk Page, Lillian Banks and Elma Kris. Picture: Chris Kidd

Remains of an ancestor, covered in a shroud, are unearthed in an excavation. The remains are treated respectfully and under the guidance of elder Uncle Bilin are taken to a sacred place.

The bones are those of Wudjang – “mother” in the language of the Mununjali clan of Yugambeh Country, which stretches from Logan and the Gold Coast down to Tweed Heads, and almost as far inland – who remains present among the people as mentor and guide.

Uncle Bilin (Kirk Page) tries to bring his niece Nanahng (Jess Hitchcock) to an understanding of the importance of their history, but she’s not much interested in the bones of the past.

Her awakening is another important thread in this finely-woven tale.

One of the many lavish reviews of the premiere production in Sydney a few weeks ago called Wudjang “operatic” and it’s an apt descriptor.

A scene from Wudjang: Not The Past. Bangarra Dance Theatre 2022. Picture: Daniel Boud

Wudjang is told through song and dance, the music powerfully reinforcing – and occasionally wryly undermining – what the characters are expressing. Wudjang’s wisdom is represented not only in dance; it is music, dance and drama rolled into one and, like opera, the story is at its heart.

Much of Wudjang is deeply affecting. How can it not be, when colonisation, dispossession, disease and – we must never forget – murder and rape loom large in a tragedy of truly epic proportions.

The depiction of massacre, the bodies literally piled high, is profoundly moving.

It’s not all gloom and doom, and a scene where sheep leap and frolic chaotically about is great fun. But the light is quickly eclipsed by one of the most searing scenes in the piece when a black sheep is not just shorn of its fleece, but skinned.

A scene from Wudjang: Not The Past. Bangarra Dance Theatre 2022. Picture: Daniel Boud

The performances, individual and ensemble, are wonderful. Elma Kris in the title role is unforgettable, as are the vocal contributions from Elaine Crombie, Justin Smith, Jess Hitchcock, Brendon Boney and Tessa Nuku.

The dancers are uniformly sublime, especially Beau Dean Riley Smith as the black sheep and Justin Smith in a solo spot while both the white man and Nanahng come to realise that past and present are inextricably linked.

Wudjang is full of little details. There is the black of the sheep, the red of the blood, and the yellow of the wattle, an echo of the Aboriginal flag. There are green flecks in some of the many wonderful costumes, perhaps a eucalyptus leaf. Too many to count, and every viewing of Wudjang will no doubt reveal more.

The production team including Page, writer Alana Valentine, composer Steve Francis and a huge number of collaborators are to be praised far and wide for their achievement, but it’s Page’s show.

His legacy at Bangarra is a proud one, and Wudjang: Not The Past caps it off brilliantly.