A journey of self-discovery: Islands by Shimmering Production

The Place, London
November 13, 2024

We are all tied to places we call home. We drift along, comfortable in familiar surroundings. But perhaps we only truly discover ourselves, and what is important in life, when we leave our ‘islands,’ meet others, and reflect from afar.

The second part of Shimmering Production’s (微光製造) Trilogy – Quest of Relationships (關係三部曲) project, the compelling Islands (人之島) builds on the opening Being (捺撇), which saw choreographer Wang Yeu-kwn (王宇光) and Lee Yin-ying (李尹櫻) perform with inked bodies on a giant sheet of paper, attempting to attempting to deconstruct and re-construct ‘us.’

Islands is much more a dance dialogue, Wang this time joined by his long-standing Indonesian choreographer-dancer friend, Danang Pamungkas, the pair exploring the cultural essence of each other’s bodies as they seek to answer the questions, ‘Who am I?’ and ‘Who are we?’

For Islands, Wang again uses a large prop, the audience being greeted by a giant black object several metres tall that fills the front of the stage. Created by set designer Chen Guan-lin (陳冠霖), what initially looks like a wall turns out to be a huge plastic airbag.

Wang first approaches the bag. Like a living, breathing organism, it shifts as he touches it before appearing to walk into it. It’s size and blackness appear as a metaphor for uncertainty as one steps away from home into the unknown.

Islands was inspired in part by a journey Wang made to Indonesia, the exploration of its themes accompanied by a clear narrative arc. It’s not long before we see him tossed by the airbag, like a small boat in a heavy ocean swell on a dark night. The beautiful picture created is emphasised by the accompanying soundscape of waves.

Danang appears as the black mass divides, the waves miraculously parting. As the sea vanishes, Wang is ‘rescued.’

A solo by Danang is fascinating. He has a graceful, fluid upper body, although his movement is led by the joints in his limbs. His arms are finger-work are exquisite, the whole having the same qualities as courtly Javanese dance. The connection is strengthened when he dons an Indonesian mask.

A duet sees the two men come together. Sharing a piece of plastic sheeting, each steps towards the other tearing off a piece. The pair then compete in a variety of ways, seeing who can get the farthest before placing their piece on the floor like an island in the ocean. As the archipelago grows, the chemistry between the couple is obvious. The competition is friendly, a mood that transmits beautifully to the audience.

The game has no winner. A message perhaps? Eventually, bodies become intertwined, a cue for more gentle fun.

When the pair then swap the mask previously worn only by Danang as they dance, it’s as if they are swapping, or at least sampling, their different identities. A more conventional dance duet is terrific, the pair seeming to lead each other, to guide each other, to borrow from each other at different moments.

Joanne Shyue’s (徐子涵) lighting adds to the mood throughout. Here it casts huge shadows on the wall of the stripped back stage. In another scene, Wang appears to dance with his own shadow, seen clearly on the stage floor. As his body ripples, rotates and falls, there’s a tension that suggests his journey of personal discovery is still ongoing.

Islands ends with Wang and Danang in a slow duet, bodies sensuously intertwined, before the couple walk slowly upstage together. The anxieties of leaving home at least gone. There is a sense of being at peace with the world, although whether Wang has truly yet discovered the answer to ‘Who am I?’ is unclear. Maybe that will have to wait for the third instalment of the trilogy.