Contact 2014: The sound and fury of Organised Chaos

SINGAPORE — If the latest Star Wars teaser trailer gave us a glimpse of the new three-pronged lightsaber, THE Dance Company unleashed its own… soundsaber.

Fine, it was actually a mic. But the way it was brandished, the solid sounds that reverberated as it was hit, the way dancer Lee Mun Wai symbolically stabs Zhuo Zihao or how Wu Mi stabs himself repeatedly was really cool.

In the words of Yoda, strong the force is, with Chaos Organised.

It’s the latest collaboration between THE artistic director Kuik Swee Boon and resident choreographer Kim Jae Duk, aka the same duo who gave us the jaw-dropping and explosive Re: Ok… But!. That was one of the best shows I watched in 2011, and Organised Chaos is one of the strongest I’ve seen this year.

If the super-scary intensity of the former was funneled into seeming violence and aggression, it’s slightly different for the latter. Here, it’s neurosis manifested. The idea of being uncomfortable in one’s own skin is something the piece returns to time and again, whether it’s frenzied convulsions (seen up-close via a live video feed at some point), forceful stomping or clapping, or the rather hypnotic sequence of all seven dancers in the act of scratching their bodies and heads slowly and repeatedly.

Often, these gestures of unease segue into or are in tandem with another mode of expression: Sound. It starts from the get-go, with said antagonistic mic duet between Lee and Zhuo, the former cruelly teasing the latter, who obsesses over panting into the mic. To one side is Kei Ushiroda lying down and blowing on a harmonica occasionally, while Evelyn Toh’s at the other end spewing out vowels. Later on, Wu and Nguyen Chung take over on the mic, this time more collaborative and playful as you visually imagine the sound created as a sonic ball bouncing around. Sherry Tay walks in, too, with her own vocal exercises.

At some point, another mic drops down from the ceiling as if some kind of celestial gift and they obsesses over who gets to speak.

From harmonies to harmonicas, the constant babbling, counting, panting — sometimes manipulated and enlarged as reverberation, loop and echo — the voice becomes an extension of the body’s performance, sound acquires a very palpable physicality.

I’m kind of liking Yoda’s dyslexic title more than the actual one. “Chaos Organised” underscores the body (or bodies) as active agent of control, desperately containing that energy or madness wanting to explode outwards (if their physical tics weren’t enough of a clue, the gesture of hands pressed together behind backs could be perceived as being shackled or a kind of plea). And when the explosions come, they can be all beauty and grace as group segments reveal, a kind of soothing balm of order — until the next spasm.

Organised Chaos may look like a bunch of different things assembled together but it works. It’s an endless streaming of so many ideas and phrases that can either exhaust or exhilarate you. I’m in the latter camp because, despite its density, it also feels loose and playful as well (nice touches of humour definitely helped).

Admittedly, the piece loses steam right at the end. But this is more in terms of ideas not intensity, and also because it was really in full throttle the entire time, a truly amazing feat that ends on a resounding note, as all seven dancers collectively stomp their feat, the ominous sound reverberating with finality.

There’s one more show of Organised Chaos tonight (Dec 6), 8pm, Esplanade Theatre Studio. For more information on the show and M1 Contact, visit http://www.the-contact.org/