In the intimate confines of a studio theatre, where audience and performers occupy the same breathing space, Natasha Sturgis presents a double bill that cuts straight to the heart of human connection. The Land of Her // Bruce offers two physically charged duets that unpack gendered relationships with athletic precision and emotional honesty.
The performance opens with The Land of Her, where Sturgis and Isabel Estrella navigate the ever-shifting terrain of female friendship through bodies that speak in "silences, glances, and bursts of physicality." The work begins with a provocative premise: what if there were no men in the world? But then quickly moves beyond theoretical speculation into a visceral exploration of how women connect when freed from external definition.
The choreography appears meticulously crafted, each gesture weighted with meaning as the dancers trace moments of tension, tenderness, conflict and care. There's no freestyle here, but rather a disciplined investigation of female dynamics that feels both specific and universal. The implied energy builds through carefully constructed solos that bloom from their shared movement vocabulary, creating a landscape shaped entirely by female possibility.
What emerges is genuinely beautiful: choreography that reframes friendship as elemental kinship, generative rather than reactive. Sturgis captures the deep emotional undercurrents of female relationships, the push and pull of care, the orbit of unspoken trust, through movement that feels both intimate and expansive. It's touching to observe.
Bruce shifts the dynamic entirely, throwing audiences into a world where Romain Hassanin and Kai Taberner navigate the physical rituals of male bonding through what feels almost like a contact sport. Here, masculinity is expressed through challenges and support, where bodies collide, suspend and trust one another in an ongoing negotiation of intimacy.
The contrast with The Land of Her is immediate and illuminating. Where the women's duet flowed with generative connection, Bruce begins mute, but then pulses with playful aggression and sudden sweeping movements. The "larrikin spirit" surfaces, loud, physical and unapologetic, yet always laced with unexpected vulnerability. This is masculinity is unfastened, revealing softer edges beneath rough exteriors.
Once again, Sturgis's choreographic intelligence shines in her refusal to offer simple conclusions about gender difference. Instead, both works examine how cultural conditioning shapes our capacity for connection, and how those limitations might be transcended through physical honesty. Bruce particularly succeeds in unpacking the coded ways men relate to each other, where strength often masks tenderness, without necessarily eliminating it.
The in-the-round presentation proves essential to both works' impact. Sharing floor level with the dancers removes traditional theatrical hierarchy, drawing audiences into the spaces where mateship and female solidarity are expressed through unguarded moments of genuine intimacy.
Together, these works create a powerful counterpoint: two sides of the same coin that invite reflection on how we connect, communicate and care for one another. Whether exploring fierce female dynamics or the contradictions of Australian masculinity, Sturgis demonstrates that contemporary dance can function as both entertainment and philosophical inquiry.
The program challenges perceptions, and delivers through athletically demanding performances that reveal rather than conceal emotional complexity. The dance takes risks with familiar subject matters, finding fresh insights through physical courage and choreographic discipline.
Tickets and more info: https://sydneyfringe.com/events/the-land-of-her-bruce/
(Images: Abril Felman)
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