Not According to Plan

In what choreographer Leigh Warren calls one of his most personal pieces to date, Not According to Plan follows the story of dancer, choreographer, photographer and academic Xiao-Xiong Zhang, whom Warren met during his time with the Australian Dance Theatre. Zhang moved alone from Cambodia to China as a child to attend school, feeling culturally and socially isolated until he was introduced to a Chinese traditional dance group. After experiencing similar isolation and loneliness once he relocated to Australia, Zhang eventually found his place in contemporary dance, and was able to find a second family with his fellow dancers.

The production is very abstract and, for anyone not well-versed in Zhang’s personal story, may be difficult to follow, but the other aspects of the show are often interesting enough to pull focus regardless. Warren’s choreography combines traditional Chinese dance elements with his own contemporary style, and creates a work that flows easily, while also being dynamic and varied. The movements are often subtle, with Warren favouring small motifs with the fingers and feet over larger sweeping movements. The dancers did not always seem to ‘mesh’ as a group, but individually were all strong in both technique and artistry. Zhang’s duet with Yuan-Li Wang, his student from Taiwan, was the high point of the show; the two performers capture their youthful characters with joy and innocence, and are a breath of lightness in a show that, at times, is very heavy.

Zhang holds the show together with calm and practiced confidence, and won the audience over with ease. His occasional narration is entertaining and expansive, giving a personal and intimate layer to a work that might otherwise seem tangential, and his vocal work in the show is a delightful surprise for the audience. He passes the first part of the show sitting and observing, leaving the audience completely unprepared for the power and energy of his dancing. Although Zhang’s focus is now on choreography and academia rather than dancing and performing, it is clear that he hasn’t forgotten a thing.

As with the dancers, the lighting, set and garments (all contributed by expert artists in their fields) are all excellent individually. The music works seamlessly with the choreography, bar one number which, with its harsh, dubstep-style repetitions and skips, was jarring to listen to and had audiences wondering if there was a technical error. While the confusion and unpleasantness of the music succeeded in conveying the difficult times in Zhang’s journey, this could have been done without sacrificing audience enjoyment.

The fabric which intermittently covered the dancers and the stage, designed and constructed by Alistair Trung, was amazing in its own right, with textures and shapes rarely seen outside the world of couture. However what was truly innovative was the way the fabric was used by the performers – not only were the large swathes used as costume and set dressing, but they were also crunched and dragged to form a percussive soundtrack. Trung’s work was an asset to the performance, and enhanced the work of the dancers without drowning them in material.

The show could have used more narration and cohesion, but overall is an emotive and innovative piece of work. Zhang’s triumph over isolation and adversity is one that resonates easily with audience members, and provides food for thought as well as a feast for the eyes.