Ten Thousand Hours

Gravity & Other Myths (GOM) are a South Australian arts company that has impressed the world with its acrobatic prowess since it formed in 2009. They have collaborated with choirs and orchestras for huge Festival performances, though I’ve always had a soft spot for their first Fringe hit, A Simple Space, which showcased staggering acrobatics in a bare, square arena.

Ten Thousand Hours is a return to that simplicity: there are more lighting effects and haze, and the audience looks ten times the volume of 2013, but the concepts are the same. The artistic dressing has been stripped back to eight incredibly fit and agile athletes in their gymwear, throwing each other around the stage – literally.

And it’s a fantastic hour-long performance that has the audience holding their breath between whispers of ‘no way’, loud laughter, and their huge roars of support and approval.

The group is made up of five men and three women (plus the guy on percussion, who can throw around his drumsticks just as expertly as his colleagues do with each other), and there is not a dull moment. There are walking towers three people high; women and men who bounce from ground to shoulder, sometimes upside down – it’s impossible for most to comprehend how this is achieved, but GOM make it look so natural. This isn’t a series of impressive moves – instead, a brilliantly choreographed, smooth and seamless routine that has no bumps or sudden moves. The performers’ bodies move through the air like liquid – indeed proposing that, for them at least, gravity is a myth.

It's impossible to articulate just how impressive this looks: but whilst they have tremendous expertise and a fluidity of movement that seems to exceed the possibilities of the human body, their triumph is amplified by another factor: gratitude.

For every successful move, they acknowledge each other: a smile or a light tap on the body. For every move not so successful (and there are not many), there is no criticism or blame – it’s the same smile, a more supportive tap, and a few words of encouragement. These performers rely on one another to move safely around the stage; their mutual trust must be enormous. And the visual manifestation of this throughout the performance is a key to their accomplishments.

The other element is not taking themselves too seriously: there are little games they play with each other (and the audience) – and the clever, mind-boggling, acrobatic Pictionary has to be seen to be believed.

The performance is a showcase of this company’s talent that extends way beyond acrobatics, into visual storytelling, movement, and contemporary dance. At one point, one of the performers (Kevin) adapts his choreography to be like a tiger, then Beyonce – and then a penguin – but his improvisational skills are no less than his ability to move so smoothly.

When the entire group is tumbling, throwing, shoving, jumping, and spinning, it’s a visual masterpiece of the human body in motion. They move around each other. And under. And over. It looks impossible not to slam into another body mid-air, yet their execution of the choreography is flawless. Every touch is intentional. At the end of the routine, everyone on stage is smiling and congratulating each other. And everyone not on the stage is on their feet in fierce applause and loud, raucous appreciation: gratitude. Thanks GOM: you’re awesome.

Review by Mark Wickett

To check out or round-up of Adelaide Fringe reviews, click here.