Haus of Yolo is vibrant sexy fun with lashings of eroticism and circus acrobatics. From the Dust Palace, New Zealand’s premier Circus and Dance theatre company.
The whip does come down. The circus is in town. The blind commissioner is the audience. Of course, we are in a trance as the festivities begin. One hand tied to the tightrope walkers, the other is in our pants.
Apologies to Dylan but Desolation Row is all about dance, theatre, circus and surrealism.
The jingle jangle music of the tambourine man morphs into Trance Dance, House and Indie Pop, Britney Spears and Frankie Goes to Hollywood.
Relax/ Don’t do it/ When you want to come!
The Dust Palace was faced with homelessness post the covid madness and malevolence.
They have found an ideal home at the Ellerslie War Memorial Hall and Arts Centre. A few early jokes and affectionate ribbing from the crew directed at Ellerslieee!
A reconditioned and repurposed motor/medicine from previous Haus of Yolo productions. You know its effective.
Eve Gordon has been a principal since Dust Palace’s beginnings. She is one of four performers and a co-director along with producer Rachel DuBois.
They are four Meat Puppets inside this circus of the Surreal. In a parallel world they are a cult Indie Rock/ Punk outfit from the Arizona desert.
What links both Muppets is trippy psychedelica. The Sexy Puppets (another name on their promo brochure) are art terrorists of fashion. Of Welt Couture.
Audience is part of the entertainment spectacle. The performance breeches the boundaries of the central rectangle. Some may be collaborators, others picked on for their flamboyant and diverse appearance.
Live theatre has an indeterminate start as four draped figures slowly merge from the seated patrons on the raised part of the stage. The recent stage production of The Hobbit is recalled.
The canvas is removed to reveal flesh-coloured underwear and one set of nipple pasties.
Lizzie Tollemache, who also helped revamp the narrative with Gordon, Jaine Mieka also a rigger and resembling an Elven presence, Luis Meirelles the male Pan figure. Playful and lusty, cock-strutting who can inspire panic, pandemonium, pandemic.
The Haus of Yolo is tasked with creating high fashion on the spot. Ready for the catwalk. A sewing machine off-centre sits as a prop.
Without a safety net as is their spectacular and awe-inspiring acrobatics on the high ropes, silks and harnesses.
One incredible set-piece is to balance a performer on the top stack of possibly ten chairs as we hold our collective breath.
Comedy is mixed with risk on a daring suspended Houdini routine. They’re selling postcards of the hanging.
Desolation Row’s most confronting image is rescued and given a blessing by the photographers and cell phone snapping freely encouraged (no flashes please).
The central outfit being whipped into shape (and deftly passed between all) is sparkly emerald green.
Visualise Elton John or Liberace (two sides of the same coin) flouncing around. Vivienne Westwood would be green with envy and relent by calling them Punks!
Kanye West is name-dropped. Now what would his wife wear?
We want your soul. It’s an orgy! A sensual entwined tango on the high ropes.
What would a fashion show from Haus of Yolo be without an appearance from Borat’s mankini?
The lighting design and the background video images of the performers going high above the unaided sight line brings the whole production to life, courtesy of Sam Mence.
Thrilling and sexy. Broad and bawdy humour. Haus of Yolo is off soon to tour the provinces and then they’re off to 51st state Canada.
Rev. Orange Peel
