Dance review: Dance With Me offers charming flaws and authenticity

Dance With Me

Frontier Danceland
Esplanade Theatre Studio
Feb 7, 8pm

Frontier Danceland’s Dance With Me – co-created by artistic director Low Mei Yoke, Hong Kong-based choreographer Ong Yong Lock and musician Ng Chor Guan – is unashamedly real.

Part of Huayi – Chinese Festival of Arts, the work delights in its quirks and capitalises on weaknesses to produce charming flaws. Emphasising the individual journey of self-reflection and discovery within a community, the dance deliberately makes space for differences in timing and moments of confusion.

With puffy headphones on, the four dancers raise their index fingers high and attempt to press play simultaneously on their mobile phones with varying degrees of success.

The subsequent performance is an appealing collection of near-misses with words uttered a split-second apart, bodies facing different directions, and someone joining a line late or breaking formation. The mistakes are made endearing by the dancers who laugh through them, their friendships of over 40 years revealed through these gaps.

The concept of a reunion between Low and her friends was first brought to the Esplanade Annexe Studio by Ong and Low in Milieu 2023, a farewell to Frontier Danceland’s full-time company status.

The cheerful blunders and joy in those interactions developed into this light-hearted hour-long performance by Low and people who danced with her in her youth: dance educator Selina Tan, ballet teacher-turned-ceramic artist Thong Meng Lan and Professor Jean Lee, an authority in Chinese business management and leadership.

None of the performers, apart from musician Ng, are under the age of 65, but the sprightly energy and vulnerability they bring to the stage is something that young dancers can learn from.

Through a segment of solos, the dancers give the impression of a sincere desire to discover and reveal some hidden parts of themselves.

Thong exhibits a likeable awkwardness as she engages in a face-off with a robot vacuum cleaner, complete with a banana placed on it. Waving it over to follow her or giving it a hug, the vacuum is more pet than household appliance.

Tan has a quiet hesitance as she gives a glimpse of her daily grind, going from one dance class to another. But her buoyant energy surfaces as she gently coaxes the audience to clap a rhythm – first eight claps then four, then continuously and gradually speeding up to a satisfying stop.

Lee is confident with a microphone in hand, although in her element when lecturing, the moments of self-doubt that seep in as she commands the room are oddly comforting.

Low dons a pair of sunglasses and seems to disregard the audience as she revels in the music and space. This is a relaxed, playful side of her that was last seen on stage in 2023.

What their dancing may have lacked in technical proficiency, virtuosity and precision, they make up for in authenticity.

The performance is peppered with situations that force the dancers to reveal themselves, be it through decisions made in a contact improvisation huddle or how they respond in a game that combines musical statues with a celebratory drink. They decide when and how much to drink, but the dancing starts and ends at the whim of the person controlling the music.

Through it all, Ng is a subtle presence, entering to provide musical accompaniment or deliver a prop, such as the inexplicable banana, or topping up champagne glasses for the celebratory dance and drink.

Everyone present – including performers, designers, crew and the audience – has a part to play in this invitation to discover and co-create.