There is a red continent between the Pilbara and Sydney Harbour. We may measure this distance in miles, or we may configure it in other, less obvious, more profound ways.
For a young dancer of Palyku and Yindjibarndi descent, this distance is personal and cultural; at once vast and intimate. From the dusty north-west, via Perth and Gosford, to the fertile south-east, Maddison Fraser has traversed the space. When, this April, she becomes Bangarra Dance Theatre’s newest company member, she will have joined many of the dots.
Speaking to Dance Informa from the NSW Central Coast, she says, “I always have my ancestors with me and I feel that guidance, so even when I’m across the other side of the country, I can feel confident in my choices.”
Yet, it was not always so clear. As anyone in this country knows, the dream of dancing and the reality of a small, highly competitive industry do not often partner well. Fraser’s journey from suburban Perth to Opera House stage and full time gig with one of Australia’s premier dance companies is typically convoluted.
As she recalls, “I actually got into dance through my mum’s friend, who was a teacher at a local studio near me. She’d see me flinging myself around the house, doing cartwheels and bend-backs and she was like, ‘Let’s bring her to dance class.’”
From there, it was a mix of styles (ballet, acrobatics, etc), until she started to take dance more seriously in high school. After that, it was time to look elsewhere, to investigate the possibility of turning passion into vocation.
“I wanted to learn more about my cultural dance,” she reveals, “because I hadn’t connected to it yet. So, mum helped me apply for NAISDA [National Aboriginal and Islander Skills Development Association Dance College], even though I had never left Perth. And yeah, I got accepted and was on a flight over to the Central Coast; my first ever flight when I was 17.”
It was there that she began to comprehend the nature of the Australian dance landscape and its various challenges. She was also growing up and “learning about myself.”
With NAISDA’s help, Fraser was able to visit the Pilbara for the first time and explore connections with family and country. Reflecting on this now, she explains, “I think that’s why I do what I do; because the Pilbara is just so physically isolated. Like, there’s nothing there. It’s all mining and cattle stations. So, my whole practise and the reason why I dance is to honour my community and to bring what I know back home.”
In this context, Bangarra is an ideal fit. The Walsh Bay company is not only the nation’s foremost indigenous arts organisation but a mainstream cultural juggernaut with a global dance reputation.
As a child growing up on the other side of the continent, Fraser liked what she saw. “My aunty worked in the arts and she had a friend who worked backstage for Bangarra, so I got free tickets when they came to Perth,” she remembers. “They were one of the first shows I ever saw, and I was like, ‘They’re like me, they’re my mob up there, and what they’re telling on that stage are stories that I know.’ It felt intimate, like they were dancing to me.”
However, beyond the standard rubric of ethno-political identity, she experienced the connection as a dancer. “Other dancing was beautiful but it felt, like, maybe above the clouds,” Fraser confesses. “Bangarra felt so grounded and connected that it always felt likely our pathways would cross.”
Now, in her early 20s, she has arrived. First, last winter, as a guest for the premiere season of Illume at the Sydney Opera House. As an entrée to the company, it was both nerve-wracking and compelling.
“It was so last-minute,” she elaborates, “but it just felt like it was an opportunity I couldn’t pass up. When I heard that I would be on stage, basically ASAP, like two days to learn the show and then I get to perform, that was basically my dream.”
Of course, learning a part in two days is no simple matter. Knowing that you have only 48 hours to prep for your Bangarra debut on the storied stage of the Opera House only adds to the pressure. “I was freaking out. I was, like, I don’t know if I’m going to be able to do this,” she adds. “But that’s why I just go head-first, and not over think things. That way I don’t get so wound up.”
Then, in a blur, it was on. “Taking those steps onto that stage felt like such validation; like I’m doing the right thing and my ancestors are all walking out there with me.”
On the day we speak, Fraser has a little over a month to wait until her new life as a company dancer begins. Well aware that such roles are gold dust, and an enormous privilege, she contemplates the changes ahead. She laughs, “Anything longer than a two-week contract feels unreal.”
Looking forward, she thinks aloud about what her Bangarra life will look like. Her description is disarming — not the usual hoopla or marketing inspired cliche. It pierces the surface, reminds us. For all our talk of role models, the fully fleshed out person resists airbrushing.
“I’m really drawn to routine,” she begins. “Like, I come from a chaotic childhood, so dance was always my safe place and the only routine that I had. So, like, NAISDA was a really easy jump because it was ‘oh yes, I have a schedule, this is something I can commit to every day.’ It was goal-oriented, something I could finish. And, even though I’ve been blessed with my freelancing, the gaps in between projects were a bit difficult to navigate for me. So, to join Bangarra and get back into a busy schedule is great. I think I really flourish in those environments.”
Perhaps, here, are distances we recognise in ourselves. Spaces we dance with.
By Paul Ransom of Dance Informa.
Share this:
