Stir Q&A: Dancers break free from the fog of routine in Shion Skye Carter’s in the wake of a sleeping machine
New ensemble work presented by Odd Meridian Arts draws inspiration from Studio Ghibli film Howl’s Moving Castle
Shion Skye Carter’s in the wake of a sleeping machine. Photo by Lula-Belle Jedynak
Odd Meridian Arts presents Shion Skye Carter’s in the wake of a sleeping machine at Morrow from September 4 to 7, as part of the Bring Your Own Body series
BODIES FORM AN ORGANIC, human-powered system during a new work by Shion Skye Carter called in the wake of a sleeping machine.
Originally from Gifu, Japan, and now based in Vancouver, Carter often combines movement with calligraphy and other heritage-based forms in their artistic practice, creating complex pieces. They drew inspiration from the Studio Ghibli film Howl’s Moving Castle to choreograph in the wake of a sleeping machine, which they also perform in alongside dancers Kaya Tsurumi, danielle Mackenzie Long, Shana Wolfe, and Kayla DeVos.
Odd Meridian Arts is presenting the work at its cultural space Morrow as part of the summer series Bring Your Own Body, featuring works by five local and national artists. The making of in the wake of a sleeping machine was supported by three community partners: the Dance Centre, Powell Street Festival, and SUM Gallery.
In the lead-up to the piece’s premiere (from September 4 to 7), Carter will be facilitating a free, open-level calligraphy and movement workshop called Motion and Stillness at the Dance Centre on August 30.
Stir touched base with the artist beforehand to learn a bit more about their creation process.
Shion Skye Carter’s in the wake of a sleeping machine. Photo by Lula-Belle Jedynak
What is your connection to Howl’s Moving Castle, and how did you draw on it for the creation of in the wake of a sleeping machine?
Howl’s Moving Castle was one of my favourite films as a kid; I would watch it on repeat, getting swept into its magical world every time. One image that always remains in my mind is Howl’s castle, with its body made up of many conjoined parts carried by bug-like metal legs, and how it creaks and spurts out steam as it walks across a desolate, grey, foggy landscape. I wanted to try and recreate this image with an ensemble of bodies, a scene which has become one of the main visual components of in the wake of a sleeping machine. I also love that the work has a reference to Japanese animation from my childhood, since the Ghibli cinematic worlds inspired me so much in my youth.
Can you share a bit about the concept of the dancers in the piece representing cogs in a machine? What styles or movement qualities are you working with to bring that idea to life?
When functioning as a machine, the dancers are in very close proximity without acknowledging each other’s presence or being in close relationship with one another. As the globular ensemble of dancers (the “machine”) traverses rhythmically in repeated orbits through the room, each body moves through a series of gestures and movement states created from words that add to the machine’s physicality—for example, rust, steam, and metal. The movements loop between erratic and clunky to smooth and conveyor belt–like.
There’s a lot of repetition involved in the choreography. It’s been fascinating to research with my collaborators how to move with invisible strings that tie the cogs in the machine together, while they remain unaware that they depend on one another to continue moving.
With in the wake of a sleeping machine being the first ensemble work you’ve choreographed, what has this new process been like for you so far? How would you describe your approach to choreographing for a group?
Creating an ensemble work has definitely been a big learning curve, since I more often choreograph solo or duet pieces. Juggling being a choreographer and project director while also being a performer in the work has been an exciting challenge, stepping in and out of the piece during the creation process. While my initial plan was not to perform in the piece, to shape the choreographic arc and world-building from the outside, I’ve learned so much from dancing inside the work.
By stepping into the piece as a performer, and creating in collaboration with the other dance artists, I’ve gotten to know the journey of the piece more intimately than by directing it from the outside: from the mechanics of moving as a “machine” and how it feels for the machine to shatter as one cog breaks free, to gaining deeper awareness of the body as the pieces of the machine reawaken as organisms and begin working in collective relationship.
What kind of comment does this piece make on individualist societal systems? How might community-driven approaches be a vehicle for change?
Something I hope the audience takes away from seeing in the wake of a sleeping machine is that community connection, human vulnerability, and relying on others are essential components to a full, human experience. While divisiveness and conflict has always existed as part of human behaviour, I feel that there’s a lot of heaviness, darkness, violence, and hurt currently happening in the world that’s additionally highlighted through digital means and social media. There’s also the rise of machinery and digital forms like AI that in many ways are increasingly repressing human expression.
I’m constantly learning how to better myself as a member of my own community, both locally and globally. Creating in the wake of a sleeping machine has been one way for me to explore how a collective can activate co-operative care, both in the performance concepts and through a collaborative creation process. By breaking out of the fog of routine and expectation of the “machine”, and reconnecting to our organism-ness both internally and as a collective, I want to share a message that challenges the rat-race and “everybody for themselves” mentalities, showing an abstract approach to a group moving together to respond to change, adapt, and continue moving forward toward a collective good.
Overall, what have you enjoyed most about working on this piece? What are your hopes for its premiere as part of the Bring Your Own Body series?
Shion Skye Carter’s in the wake of a sleeping machine. Photo by Lula-Belle Jedynak
I’ve loved the world-building aspect of creating in the wake of a sleeping machine. Every rehearsal, my amazing team of collaborators have helped me tackle questions like “How does the machine experience time, and how does it differ from how the animal or organism experiences time?” or “How does gravity work in the world of sleeping machine?”
This work has moved me in a new realm as a choreographer that I’ve never experienced before, especially with the interactive sculptures from studio molo that also add to the world-building. I can’t wait to share this work with audiences at Bring Your Own Body, and hope to transport them through an otherworldly experience that encourages connecting to their own breath, body, and organism-ness as a human being. 
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