Ruth Agnew reviews Whakapapa, presented by Jolt Dance, as part of the World Buskers Festival, at Papa Hou, Sunday 25 January 2026.
The show opens with a moment of stillness and silence. The stage is almost bare, just a row of seats painted the same dulled black as the stage and curtains at the back. There is a weight to the quiet as a performer moves to his seat, not even looking at the audience but knowing he has their full attention. With precision and control, the dancer raises his gaze to the audience. A series of loud pops explode into the air, as if a pin is piercing the bubbles of anticipation the audience holds in their mouths, then a frenetic percussive beat fills the room, spurring the dancer into motion. He matches the music’s tone and tempo, slicing the air with his arms, as a waiata swells and fills the room. This is Jacob Levington, inviting the audience to join him on this journey, Whakapapa, an exploration of origins, whānau, and identity devised and performed by members of Jolt Dance Company, and one of the most powerful examples of theatrical self-expression I have seen in recent years.
Jolt Dance is a homegrown treasure, an inclusive mixed ability dance company formed by local legend Lyn Cotton in 2001. Currently Jolt has over 200 people with intellectual disabilities as students, teachers and performers. This company is the embodiment of inclusivity and empowerment, using dance as a medium to challenge mainstream ideas of mixed ability performance.
Whakapapa is a deeply personal piece, with the dancers sharing their whakapapa in the form of dance, poetry, song, testimonials, film, kapa haka and NZSL. It is also declaring at full volume to everyone why these stories need to be staged and seen. The audience is an essential element of this show, whooping in support, adding their voices to familiar waiata, clapping and tapping in rhythm. This is an indisputable example of performance art not existing in a vacuum; every performance of Whakapapa will be influenced by the spectators’ response.
Lachlan Oakes follows Jacob’s pop’n’locking and poetry. The way he speaks his truth in a matter of fact way, devoid of shame or embarrassment, breaks my heart for other people with autism who were not raised in an ability-focussed, empowering environment that would allow them to express themselves this way. Lachlan’s straightforward retelling of his life journey, from losing his early language to being non verbal to stating “autism is a part of my whakapapa” expresses his strength more clearly than books of words could.
Robert Sopoaga whakapapas to his Pasifika roots, using film as his storytelling medium. Jokani Coe explains through movement that “there is a mountain inside my head”. Jonathan Bennett’s use of the symbol of a tree to show his growth is overwhelmingly relatable .
Joel Forman shares the way a lighthouse drew him to a line of his whakapapa. The unspoken part of his life journey hits, but in a fierce demand to not be viewed with pity, Forman’s significant moments refer to his parents finding him and making him the ninth beloved child in the Forman family, while also embracing his biological family heritage.
Please do not conclude that my enthusiastic praise of Whakapapa means I have no gripes to make. Firstly, there were not enough programmes, as there had only been a handful of seats booked when they were being promoted. This is not, of course, a failure (or misstep, if you will) borne of Lyn Cotton’s actions. In fact, no one at Jolt can be blamed for expecting empty seats. This is on you, everyone else. You need to see this show, and you need to book your tickets early so Jolt’s superstars (who all seem to hold multiple roles across teaching, tutoring, administration, directing and mentoring) can plan accordingly. Not booking until the before a show has become rather a bad habit of Christchurch audiences across the board, so let’s all agree to improve upon that. If you book, Lyn Cotton will print more programmes. Fair? Fair.
Also, don’t stop me if you’ve heard this before, but where are we meant to place empty wine glasses down when sitting in the dark so they aren’t accidentally knocked off the rostra to interrupt the main feature onstage with a shatter and glint? This is a city wide issue, so anyone forthcoming with a solution may want to share it widely.
Thirdly, after the show I jumped on the Jolt website to check if Jolt was formed in 2000 or 2001, and got sucked into a wormhole time vortex watching and rewatching videos of previous Jolt shows. I never expected to go through the bittersweet heartwarming heartaching experience of watching the wee poppets perform Hallelujah without one of their team, but I’ve replayed it so many times tonight I’m tearing up as I type. So my third gripe is that once you Jolt, you can’t halt.
Go see Whakapapa. If you don’t get to Papa Hou, there is a tour to Queenstown in April. So I don’t want to hear your excuses. Just go.
You can find more information about Jolt Dance here.
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