Quiet Rituals, while modest in scale, is rich in feeling, intricately exploring the thresholds of human grief, transformation, and sleep. The “triptych” of solo performances by Stella Grace Seawright, Jake Starrs, and Grace Ella Lewis made a valuable contribution to the 2025 Pōneke Festival of Contemporary Dance. The intimacy of the Te Auaha theatre and the authenticity of their performances, combined with impressive technical skill, create an atmosphere that is both cathartic and celebratory, yet deeply reflective all at once.
The evening begins with a lament to loss that is brutal in its honesty and complete in its surrender. Giving Over by Stella Grace Seawright is set against a simple backdrop: a clothesline stretches across the stage, holding a single white sheet that hovers above a blanket of clay dust. Seawright enters, shouldering a pile of pale sticks with stained red hands and matching pants. This provides a striking visual contrast to the muted colour tones of the setting. Gathering the sticks above her head, the sharp, brittle sound of them snapping reverberates through the silence. The sticks are cradled and washed down against her face.
An impressive section of floor work follows, capturing the tumultuous nature of grief through writhing, twisting, and distortion. This movement feels as uncomfortable as the stick skirt that eventually forms around her.
In one particularly hypnotic moment, captured in the centre of a spotlight, Seawright’s gaze fixes on the audience as her expression shifts from an intense smile with teeth bared and eyes wide, to one of alarm, mouth open in almost a silent scream.
What starts as a hum transforms into a lament – half song, half cry. It evolves into a piercing yet mesmerising wail that is startling in its vulnerability.
Remnants of dust linger on the stage, traces of the visceral journey just witnessed.
Stunned by the glare of the house lights following Seawright’s solo, the audience watches on as Jake Starrs casually enters the space, marking the start of his work, At 3 am I am here with the Red Dream. This clever and dynamic piece navigates fluctuating emotions born from love, heartbreak, and memory, balancing moments of playful energy with quieter, introspective ones. These tonal shifts are linked by fascinating transitions that build with satisfying momentum.
The recurring act of undressing, dressing, and undressing again into a leotard and tights serves as a physical motif, reinforcing themes of vulnerability and transformation. A clear movement language that supports this emerges from repetitive chest and rib undulations, twisting gestures with splayed hands, and cumulative grooves. This is further supported by an effortless athleticism, which is particularly evident in the way he moves in and out of the floor.
An especially engaging moment unfolds on the floor as Starrs creates a scene with finger puppets along his thigh. But it is the celebratory burst of confetti cannons, accompanied by theatrical music, that punctuates the piece with humour and delightful surprise.
It concludes with a subtle smirk from Starrs before his street clothes join the sheet on the clothesline. The audience is left quietly amused with a sense of satisfaction.
Dissolving the Apricot Corridor by Grace Ella Lewis is the final work of the evening. Rooted in themes of consciousness and liminality, the work exists in the in-between of waking and dreaming. It doesn’t just invite the audience in; it gently suspends them in a space that feels internal and vast.
The piece opens hypnotically with a tall figure, Lewis, illuminated by warm stage light. She is draped in cascading layers of white fabric, her head wrapped in a beautiful mask. The rhythmic patter of rain and a soft hum accompany the scene. The drape is hung along the clothesline as Lewis melts slowly to the floor, her languid quality drawing the audience into a trance.
In this state, she moves between meditative stillness and sudden twitching, resulting in something visually magnetic. However, her mesmerising fluidity is occasionally punctured by technical movements that work against the otherwise seamless aesthetic.
Despite the anonymity and distance imposed by the mask, which transforms Lewis into something otherworldly, there are intimate moments of cradling, rocking and draping the fabric over her body that defy this barrier. The performance culminates in a repetitive flurry of movement. It closes with a dreamlike projection of warm light through a canopy of trees, casting a nostalgic and peaceful glow on the stage.
Overall, each soloist possesses a strong sense of individuality, demonstrating great dedication to their craft and a courageous willingness to be honest and vulnerable. Quiet Rituals is deeply thoughtful and offers subtle glimpses of something larger. It provides a lingering invitation to explore further rather than a definitive conclusion.
Review by Kataraina Poata