i know the end: Our strange, spooky love
Alix Kuijpers (he/they) is an emerging freelance choreographer, sound designer, and director of 2023 Melbourne Fringe performance, ‘i know the end’. Making its interstate debut in October, 'i know the end' is an interactive queer dance work whose Adelaide performance won it a 2023 Emerging Artist Award and one of the Weekly Best Dance Awards. The show has been created by a team of emerging queer South Australian dance artists, including Caroline De Wan (she/her) and Fern Mines (she/her). Having had the opportunity to watch and review the performance, Aideen (she/her) reflects on the mystery of queer relationships, both in their daunting nature and joyful shapelessness.
A good Fringe performance is usually an unpredictable one. Since the Festival is best known for embracing a diverse, non-curated selection of small-scale productions, strangeness is at the root of what makes Fringe great: a celebration of artists willing to be weird.
As a part of the 2023 Melbourne Fringe line-up, I had the opportunity to attend ‘i know the end’, a dance piece directed by emerging freelance choreographer and sound designer Alix Kuijpers. Awarded a Best Dance Weekly Award and the Emerging Artist Award for Adelaide Fringe 2023, ‘i know the end’ brought us into the intimate confines of a dimly lit bedroom for a joyfully experimental performance designed to demystify contemporary dance.
We were individually led across a floor of slain sheets, seated along the room’s perimeter, and sat waiting while our eyes adjusted to the darkness. Readied for an imminently unique experience, I otherwise had no idea what to expect.
Mystery and intrigue added to this whole performance. ‘i know the end’ walks the line between intimate and spooky, delving into the feeling of the unknown that is inherent in burgeoning queer experiences and celebrating the deep friendship and vulnerability of a couple’s private world.
Performed, co-choreographed and produced by Caroline De Wan and Fern Mines, the dancers recreated earnest chemistry and a beautifully convincing queer dynamic. Drawing from styles of classical and contemporary, their movements incorporate effortless lifts and exchanges of weight. Caroline is the co-founder of Adelaide’s Alchemy Dance Collective, and Fern Mines is a South Australian independent creator, teacher, and a 2023 Emerging Artist in Residence at Carclew.
Charting your way through a romance untethered to cultural reference is an often difficult yet rewarding journey of self-discovery, a sentiment beautifully captured by performer Fern’s reflections. As she describes on the performance’s website, Fern feels she can channel elements of her personal experience to create this timely queer portrayal -
“I think for me performing in this work is particularly meaningful because I feel like it’s a gift to my younger self. A shyer, less confident version who would be so proud of how much I’ve grown as a person and as an artist, and the confidence I now have in who I am and my sexuality. I will perform this piece for her and all the young people growing up working out where they fit in.”
“I will perform this piece for her and all the young people growing up working out where they fit in.”
The viewer's experience is considered at every level as Alix incorporates a thrilling soundscape specifically designed and delivered for the piece. The spoken-word audio creates an extra-terrestrial, ethereal atmosphere that places the performance in a dreamscape setting, coupled with shifting melodies that are beautiful and moving.
As Alix explains, the performances tried to grapple with the experience of tackling unmapped relationships in early adulthood -
“In this work, our mystery is human connection, intimacy and relationships, more specifically in relation to how for many queer people, that is a complex minefield to navigate. Working up the courage to express feelings of love and admiration for one another, platonically or romantically, is difficult when the examples you are given through society, media and politics weren’t made for you in mind.”
“our mystery is human connection, intimacy and relationships, more specifically in relation to how for many queer people, that is a complex minefield to navigate.”
That uncertainty was channeled by the performers switching from initial instances of romantic intimacy to platonic silliness. The back and forth created a sense of ambiguity that made me second guess my assumptions. This felt like a reflection of a familiar fluctuation true for many queer relationships. A representation of the swing between ends of a spectrum, a non-binary dynamic that, unsure of itself, moves and evolves.
The props and lighting helped to shape the ever-changing environment which went between moods of restless anxiety to warm recollection. Playing with torch beams, pillows, and tied sheets - the choreography incorporates paranormal bedtime monsters and the impression of swiftly passing memory that evaporates as you awake. As if at a sleepover with school friends, we were whispered gibberish beneath bed sheets before being asked to fold them. The pair played with intrigue and confusion, developing a performance that was both sentimental and funny.
‘i know the end’ adds to a growing collection of art that recognises queer joy, no longer tightly shackled to the classic themes of misery that are sometimes reiterated in more typical LGBTQI+ narratives. Alix and his team celebrate the unsung nuances of queerness, namely the opportunity to relearn, reclaim and rediscover the experiences of an intimate partnership. The performance was a welcome representation of simple, queer delight.