Brokentalkers and Junk Ensemble - It Folds

Brokentalkers & Junk Ensemble: It Folds

Brokentalkers and Junk Ensemble - It FoldsDeath, it’s all around us. Wearing white sheets and hovering about at our birthdays. It Folds opens and closes with ghosts played by people in white sheets. Like a children’s party or a school play: youthful and full of death. It Folds is comprised of many portraits on death, grief and, I think, youth. You would expect an intense darkness with this subject matter, and at times there is, uncomfortably so. But the atmosphere of beauty, lightness, and humour that the show also creates – this is its distinction.

A collaboration between dance company Junk Ensemble and theatre company Brokentalkers, It Folds balances dance scenes and anecdotal storytelling, both leaving a lot of space for thought and interpretation. The movement choreographed is poignantly rigid and communicates an odd affection; hugs are given but not really returned, bodies are swayed lifelessly. This physical language opens up a liminal space between the dead and the living.

The performance is strangely emotionally plain; faces are distant and words are given directly. This means we are not swept away by sadness but spellbound by the images created: a pantomime horse, a man with one eye larger than the other, a ghost in trainers. It is surreal, and the deadpan quality amplifies this. It also allows for the songs in the work to burst like bright stars, peaks of harmony and feeling. A neat folk song played on a banjo by a tearful mother tells the difficult story of a boy who isn’t picked up from school and gets into a stranger’s car.

The cast is expansive and includes performers of many ages. I really enjoy this and note that I don’t usually see mixed age casts in contemporary work. The breadth of age adds weight to the perspective of the piece. It feels collective, like a community tapestry on death that is layered, unresolved, and open.

I am really struck by a tattered angel pulling the rigid body of a young boy across the floor. She appears twice moving across the back of the stage. She really disturbs me and I worry about the insensitivity of that picture. But she keeps appearing and then in a smoke-filled graveyard she drops the body and begins a dance of panic. Through an intense choreography I sense that the angel has become completely traumatised by death. Her body stuttering and slipping, it feels like religion can’t handle it anymore. Persisting with this challenging visual results in the clearest message for me. The presence of death is constant and tightly woven through all our houses. It weighs heavy on our relationships and shatters our faith.

A play of several parts and a generosity of performers, the stage is joyous with people. Each time a new idea is introduced it comes with a new face, allowing each scene to stand alone. In this way, the show feels uncensored and unabashed and I am grateful.