Australia-based Lucy Guerin Inc brought their latest work, One Single Action, to the Salihara International Performing Arts Festival (SIPFest) 2024 on 17 and 18 August 2024, at the Salihara Community Art Centre. This 45-minute performance, while concise in its runtime, left the audience with plenty to contemplate.
If there are two words that could sum up Lucy Guerin’s latest work, One Single Action, they would be: minimalist and bewildering. It is, quite literally, a dance performance, but it is also a dance between lighting (designed by Paul Lim), rhythm, and one stark set. Three elements intertwined, giving off a deceptively simple start—until it’s not.
The performance begins with Amber McCartney hammering the floor in a steady, robotic rhythm. Her counterpart, Geoffrey Watson, mirrors her movement, lowering his hammer with exaggerated slowness, as if gravity itself is doing the work until it smashes onto the stage, matching her rhythm. Then, their sync becomes nearly flawless. Not a single beat is missed (and as a spectator, one can’t help but wonder how much practice went into achieving this level of synchronisation). Their movements are so calculated and precise it’s hard not to compare them to machines, programmed to carry out a series of actions.
For a while, as the audience, you’re likely in awe of this sequence—but then it becomes repetitive. You won’t necessarily get bored, but it starts to feel draining, watching two humans move in a robotic, mechanical state. I’d liken it to staring at a conveyor belt at the airport. At first, you’re curious, eyeing the different luggage people travel with, but after a while, you just want to grab yours and go home.
And that’s probably the intended reaction to the first sequence: monotony and order are not exactly humanity’s strongest suits. In the end, we’re not robots, and each of us craves something different—we all hate the mundane. But just as you begin to feel this lull, the male dancer breaks form. It’s subtle at first, yet Watson’s deviation from the synchronised movements sets the first real moment of tension.
Watson’s shift feels deliberate, like a rebellious glitch in the system. His defiance is portrayed with such intensity that it seems as if some unseen force is possessing him, making his struggle to return to McCartney’s rhythmic flow palpable. This back-and-forth between unity and rebellion engages the audience, with their return to synchronisation feeling less like a triumph and more like a necessary submission.
Then, the dancers reach for their hammers again, this time turning their full attention to the glass that represents the moon, hanging at the front edge of the stage. A symbol of the goal they are driven to reach. Their first attempt to smash it fails—there’s no drama in this failure, just a simple lack of success. It’s not until their second attempt that their determination becomes much more visible, and the struggle more visceral, yet still the orb remains intact.
By this stage, it’s hard not to wonder if this pattern is the point: two figures moving with increasing determination, only to fail repeatedly. The third sequence is when things truly shift. The synchronicity dissolves entirely, and what started as a unified effort turns into a competition between the dancers. They now appear as two entities with one goal, but completely different methods (and maybe different means, too), so much so that when they reach their goal in breaking the orb, it brings disarray rather than success.
From here, McCartney’s character becomes a hollow shell, stoic and immobile, while Watson, now seemingly aimless, desperately tries to bring her back to life. It’s a haunting conclusion to such erratic and intense scenes, leaving more questions unanswered for the next act: once the task is complete, what remains of those who completed it?
If you’re familiar with Guerin’s other works like Split (2017), Pendulum (2021), or How To Be Us (2022), you’ll know that her choreography is always layered with multiple interpretations, and One Single Action is no exception. There’s intentional ambiguity—Guerin doesn’t coddle the audience with meaning, leaving much of the interpretation up to them.
The performance hints at themes of control, defiance, and the breakdown of order. Some may see it as a commentary on the dehumanisation of labour in an increasingly automated world, where success comes at the expense of individuality. Others may interpret the dancers’ struggle as a more personal tale of ambition, one that can cost them their identity and leave them lost in its wake.
One clear takeaway, however, is Guerin’s ability to craft something profoundly thought-provoking out of seemingly simple movements. With a minimalist stage, a glass orb, and two dancers, entire meanings unfold on the stage. And as with much of Guerin’s work (or art, in general), the beauty of One Single Action lies in the eye of the beholder, with the journey from order to chaos always beguiling to witness.
To get the latest updates about One Single Action’s future performances and Lucy Guerin Inc’s programmes, follow @lucyguerininc on Instagram and visit lucyguerininc.com
