The stage of Mercury by the Sydney Dance Company is immaculate, a large white room with a glowing orb at its rear. It is not really an uncommon site, such a minimalist stage, given the practicality of open area for dance, and the emphasis which should be placed on the physical being. The difficulty of this stipulation is in thematic interpretation. The audience response is based on a combination of set, choreography, lighting and music. Unfortunately, all of these things are subjectively evaluated. The difficulty with Mercury is that while it had strong conceptual material to work with, the term is a homonym which refers to a chemical element with which temperature is read, a Greek/Roman God and the planet closest to the sun. Beginning with three possible paths, a common interpretation might be linked to liquidity (given that Mercury is liquid at room temperature), the messenger and heat. Instead, Kvarnström chooses to take them into constant movement, feathers (symbol of the God) and overexposed lighting is but one example of interpretation. Earlier this week, Kvarnström told The Australian that “You want [a name] that doesn’t tell too much, that leaves a bit for people’s fantasies, for their imagination and the choreographer’s imagination.” (The many facets of mercury, November 13) This is certainly not a new idea, but there should be a limit to the subjectivity art. If it is necessary to read the choreographer’s statement to understand the intention of the work, I would argue that too much pressure is being placed on individual interpretation instead of construction, which softens the conceptual impact of the piece.
Why, for example, does the interpretation of Mercury the planet (especially viewed alongside the interpretation of Mercury as a means of temperature evaluation) borrow only the overexposed lighting, but not the overwhelming heat of the planet closest to the sun? When viewing Mercury one gets a distinct feeling of alienation; there is coldness even in moments of unbridled human contact. The show, even in its most sensual stages, is far from hot. Given the strong inclination towards human connection, why not draw from the element of Mercury as the messenger, rather than portray her as a dark oracle amongst black feathers.
After this deliberation, you may assume that I feel negatively towards the performance, but I can tell you absolutely that this is not the case. It is in the appreciation of the art form on two levels, the physical performance and the artistic interpretation, which we find enjoyment, and if the things I have mentioned were simply cut and dry, one would not be able to involve oneself spiritually in the performance. My criticism is not intended to completely restrict the artist to a formulaic mode of creation; instead it is an impetus towards stronger imagery and a more coherent theme. Kvarnström told The Australian that “If the audience is coming for a story, they will be confused, I like to create some strong images and I would like to catch their subconscious.” However, the catching of the subconscious is not something that defies meaning, it just occurs free of traditional meaning. The modern dance genre already tends to be enacted beyond traditional elements of storytelling, so the statement is fairly mundane. Indeed, I would argue that something which occurs in the subconscious is as heavily weighted, if not more heavily weighted, with meaning and the rejection of tradition is not necessarily a rejection of coherence.
The physical performance itself is unsettlingly breathtaking, beginning with the tightly controlled muscles of Richard Cilli in front of a giant glowing disc. As we watch with intrigue, the muscles move and contort like mechanisms of wild beasts, distorted and wondrously intricate. Though the performance tends not to favour individual dancers, this sets him aside as the featured artist which, given his immutable physical talents, is extremely well deserved. His face, when finally shown, appears in fragility as piece by piece the company joins him in synchronicity. Though there are difficulties with the overarching theme, what follows is a spectacular piece of group expression, showing the raw elements of human interaction, solidarity and isolation in a cycle of constant movement. We see women lift men effortlessly, and vice versa, only to trap them, or let them go. There is an overwhelming feeling of human autonomy, the division and collection of atoms repeated in triplicate as to extend the banality of interaction, the systematic chaos of human experience. As I said earlier, the sensual scenes in Mercury are quite cool, not because they are tame but because they are graceful and almost alienating in their insect-like portrayal. The most striking performers are, without a doubt, Richard Cilli, Adam Blanch, Kalman Warhaft and Janessa Dufty, the last of which was a stunning oracle rendition of the god Mercury, drawing forth gasps from a captivated audience as she was bombarded with black feathers. While this part of the performance was perhaps the most incongruous given the minimalistic approach, it acted quite successfully as an eye-catching demarcation between parts two and three. Though part three was wonderful performed, I couldn’t help but think that it belonged in another show, something with a darker theme. Though the inclusion of incongruous elements can help stir meaning, the inclusion of black into the white world was far from subtle, and not quite poignant enough to warrant such a heavy intrusion.
Mercury is a show which should not be missed; the entire company beautifully express the notions set out for them, inciting gasps of awe and intrigue amongst a sold-out crowd. Though the art form is not necessarily as widely viewed as the Sydney Symphony Orchestra, Australian Ballet, or the Australian Opera Company, it most certainly should be considered as valuable a performance as any of these. The Sydney Dance Company has never failed to impress.
Mercury opens at the Sydney Theatre on November 17th and plays until the 28th.
Tickets are available here.

See great video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=88xYWW23XFY
I love dance and I have really LOVED some of SDC’s productions over the last 10 years. This I did NOT love, and I didn’t even it like it much.
Except for the bunch of feathers dropping down, there was no WOW factor for me. Yes the dancers were good, yes they were beautiful and fluid, yes they had great syncronisation and yes there were some effortless lifts. BUT THERE WERE NO SECTIONS THAT MADE ME SMILE! It was just too clinical.
So maybe I am not a dancer and don’t appreciate some of the moves they did. And maybe SDC shouldn’t DUMB-DOWN the dance for philistines like me… but there were many empty seats in the theatre (and it was Sat, closing night) so maybe they need to think a bit more about what auduences want to see?