Hungry Like the Wolf: satisfied, but still I want more

Expectations always get in my way. For example, if everyone tells me I will love a movie, my expectations build up so high that no matter how good the movie may be I always feel disappointed when I see it. Seeing Hungry Like The Wolf made me consider my expectations for a dance performance. SiNS (Sometimes in Nova Scotia) have been assembling a repertoire of pieces based on each of the seven deadly sins. Upon hearing this work was a study on greed that would use hundreds of uniform boxes as the objects of desire I instantly had visions of these wolf-like characters hoarding boxes in a very animalistic way. When the piece (rightly) avoided going down that obvious route, I felt let down. Then I got upset with myself for having such clichéd expectations in the first place. We all see dance for different reasons – some to see great movement, to see interesting ideas, to think deeply, to hear a story. The list goes on and on. Our needs as viewers are varied but are all equally important. All of these needs were satisfied at the Shadbolt last night, but I still wanted more. Maybe the piece itself made me feel greedy. That being said, I do think it’s much better to leave the theatre wanting to see more than it is to leave thinking the piece overstayed it’s welcome. Though getting to the Shadbolt is a bit more of a trek than I usually like to take, Hungry Like The Wolf offered plenty of rewards in return for my long journey.

I arrived at the Shadbolt early enough to have a glass of wine (yummy Pinot Grigio) and a chat with Daelik before the show. I worked with Daelik on 2009’s Open Spaces Project, and I saw many similarities between that piece and this one. Daelik uses these pieces to experiment with the perception and perspective of the audience, using the piles of boxes to create different spaces within the space. This offers everyone experiencing the work a different point of view. There were often times during the show when two or three different scenarios were unfolding at once. Being offered choices as a viewer is not something we as an audience are used to. Trying to take it all in is challenging, and then you realize that’s not the point. The intent is that you can decide what you part you want to watch at any given moment, and whichever performer you choose then takes you on their individual journey. I’d love it if more dance performances treated the audience this way because it kept me guessing and it kept me fully engaged.

When I entered the space I immediately became aware that a black curtain had been drawn near the front of the stage. The first performer (the effortlessly stunning Elise Vanderborght) entered the space in front of the curtain. She was wearing a cropped fur coat and she was carrying a white purse and a white box. She pulled a pair of scissors out of her purse and began to cut open the box. This was the first time during the show that I realized how satisfying it is to watch someone perform a task based movement. I knew what she had to do to get into the box. I knew after she cut along the sides and the top that it would open and that would be the end of that movement. Something about knowing when a moment ends is so powerful to me. As the box opens, the room fills with sound as if it was emanating from the box itself. Vanderborght dropped the box in surprise, but seemed to decide it wasn’t harmful. She picked it back up and handed it to an audience member. A curious sort of ice cream truck melody started to play and the other three women enter the space. We were told by Vanderborght that inside of us all there are two wolves – one that represents all that is good, and one that represents all that is dark. Susanne Chui asked ‘which one will win?’ The eerie reply that came ‘whichever one you feed.’ The performers reached into their purses and pulled out comical wolf masks. They put on the masks and start into a series of body rolls – one performer even did the worm! The lighting came from the sides during this section and I watched the gorgeous deformed shadows dancing on the walls. It was all very hypnotizing. After removing their masks and fur coats, the curtain opened to reveal the sea of white boxes and the lovely Billy Marchenski. He performed a staccato sequence of floor movements which was juxtaposed against the smooth flowing choreography the women were performing next to him. I began to wonder about the ladies here – I wasn’t familiar with them as dancers so I wasn’t sure what to think. They moved well together as a group, but seemed passive in their dancing, so much so that I began to wonder if they had anything individual to offer. None of them seemed to be drawing me in with their presence. Luckily, this worry didn’t last long. Marchenski began to carry boxes to the front of the stage, and the women helped guide him to where they thought he should place them. I always enjoy seeing a man on stage in a passive role, and he obeyed the instructions of his fellow performers.

The following duet between Marchenski and Vanderborght was one of the show's highlights. While the other women focused on building a structure, these two gave us a glimpse into their relationship within the piece. Surprising moments of aggression like choke holds were punctuated with romantic moments like the waltz they performed, holding each other close. They began to build a small tower of their own, and watching them disagree about the placement of boxes was hilarious and it effectively humanized them. When the tower fell over Vanderborght performed a lovely solo before going back to Marchenski. At this point I began to feel a bit spoiled – I was enjoying their work together so much that I was surprised I was going to be treated to more of it. Vanderborght fell into his arms and the evocative duet of groping hands that followed just about had me in tears. I think it scared me because I saw something of myself in it. One of the comments made during the post show talkback was that the show seemed to focus less on greed in regards to the boxes/physical object, and more in regards to the greed we have for other people - for their bodies, for their attention, for their affection.

After the duet ended, Vanderborght climbed into the structure that the other women had been building. With the help of Chui she built it up so high that we could only see her in the space left between the boxes. This was one of the most interesting perspective shifts of the evening. Vanderborght began to whisper a story from inside the castle, which Chui then repeated at a louder decibel. One of the evenings only true surprises for me happened then, with Vanderborght smashing through the wall of the box castle. This threw the stage into chaos that only lasted a short moment and didn’t really seem to go anywhere. It did segue into another of the most memorable images – Marchenski and Jacinte Armstrong building a tower of boxes without the use of their hands. Watching them struggle to raise the boxes up high enough and straighten the tower out using their bodies was funny, and it made me think again about how much I enjoy task related movement. It was clear to me when the task what they were trying to do, what their limitation was, when the task was going well and when it wasn’t.

The following solo was performed by Sara Coffin. It seemed to be the one that resonated with the most people if the talkback afterwards was anything to go by. She placed her white purse on her head and began to move around the stage, robbed of her sight. I was sort of hoping she’d crash into the boxes at some point, but here again I was let down by my formulaic expectations. Again, I reprimanded myself for hoping for a cheap thrill instead of looking into all of the possible meanings offered here – that we can’t always see greed, or the need we feel to be close to our possessions, or in this case - the contents of our purses. After emerging from her purse prison, Coffin and the women performed a lovely set of contact duets. It was here that it became clear why they were on stage together, they collided with the ease of a group of dancers who are totally comfortable with each other. They all seemed very at ease lifting each other and turning each other upside down.

It was Chui’s turn to be featured, and her solo was nothing short of luxurious. She pulled her dress down to her waist and put her wolf mask back on. She sensuously moved around Marchenski. Her arms cut through the air like blades, and here I wanted to see more dexterity through her fingers and hands. She laid down on the floor, and was immediately covered up by the four fur coats. She looked like a sleeping wolf, and then the lights went out. Marchenski told us the end of the story that Vanderborght had started to tell earlier on while Coffin moved through the space with a flashlight. She illuminated Marchenski, the boxes, a furry Chui on the floor. In an evening already overflowing with pleasing images, this was the icing on the cake. Again, I felt greedy for more. I realized here that Marchenski’s shirt had the Batman symbol on it. Just moments later when the women started to dance with a large shadow on the wall behind them, I wondered if the play on shadows/signals in the sky was done on purpose, or if I was just searching for meaning in something that was done for fun.

Marchenski crept along the floor in one of the most physically impressive moments of the night. He seemed to look part ape and part frog – jumping onto his hands and suspending there. The women built a wall behind him. He stepped through the wall and began to open boxes one by one, as Vanderborght had done in the beginning. From each one came another sound – a child’s laughter, the sound of the ocean, the distant sounds of war. The women were back in their fur coats and wolf masks, and as a pack they watched Marchenski as he finally tore into the parcels that had tempted the performers throughout. The black curtain closed again and the wolves were in front of it. They huffed and puffed in what I assumed was an ode to the big bad wolf in The Three Little Pigs. Their bodies rippled and rolled as the lights and music faded out.

During the talkback we found out that wolves have long been associated with greed. Though the Duran Duran song the piece takes its title from might suggest a piece about gluttony, Daelik mentions that there is a lot of crossover between the seven deadly sins and that it is difficult to draw a clear line between them. The performers also talked about the structure of the piece – that within what they are supposed to be doing, there was a lot of room for things to go wrong. This tension keeps the performers engaged and also keeps the audience on the edge of their seats. Now that’s entertainment.