Sisterhood Synchro

The history of synchronising swimming is considered by many to be a relatively short one. Defined by the Oxford English Dictionary as: “A sport in which members of a team of swimmers perform coordinated or identical movements in time to music,” it didn’t become an Olympic sport until 1984. And it’s often credited as the invention of Australian swimmer Annette Kellermanin the 1900s. Kellerman was also a ballerina and one of the first women to wear a one-piece swimsuit that showed her thighs – highly risqué at the time. In her performances, she wove together diving, swimming and dancing and was billed as the ‘Diving Venus’ when she performed in New York City.

However, that might not be the full story. A Smithsonian article titled ‘Synchronised Swimming Has a History That Dates Back to Ancient Rome’ points out that first-century A.D. poet Martial wrote epigraphs about a group of women who swam, dove and created elaborate shapes with their nude bodies in the flooded amphitheatre of the Colosseum. He described the women as water nymphs, and questioned: “Who designed such amazing tricks in the limpid waves?”

Their 2017 show ‘Crimson Tide’ is a celebration of menstruation. “None of us had any experience in water ballet, choreography or theatre production or any of the key skills required!” laughed Fran, who met some of the original members at a feminist book club. “A few of us worked in design and marketing so we had the skills to promote the show, but not to produce it. Through word of mouth we found ourselves two amazing independent artists, Holly Durant and Gabi Barton, who agreed to choreograph a water ballet about periods for us. We ended up with a cast of 28 women and non-binary people for our first public performance,” she continues.

“The performance is structured around the different emotional phases many of us experience during our menstrual cycle. The giant tampon props were crafted from pool noodles, rope and white socks, and 40 metres of red tulle resembled a flowing trail of blood in the pool,” she explains. In 2019, their show ‘Grow Your Own Way’ aimed to destigmatise body hair. “We may have bought Melbourne out of thrift shop wigs that summer,” chuckles Fran. “We attached them to our bathers as well as our props.” The Clams are now busy rehearsing for their first show next month since the start of Covid, a performance at Brunswick Bath’s Inclusive Gym and Swim Night to celebrate the LGBTQIA+ community.

Arms linked and toes pointed, a group of human beings when moving in total unison become something else entirely – a sort of entity, a shape in the water. It isn’t about the individual, it’s the dynamics of the swimminers moving as one. Akin to poet Martial’s poetic response – whether it’s 40 AD Rome in flood water or a hotel swimming pool in 2021 – it’s the athletes’ bodies moving in unison that creates the special sort of alchemy that generates a powerful emotional reaction. “Our choreographies are based on communication with the audience and their feelings,” says Konstantina of her Naiads in Greece. “We blend in with the audience so they feel like they have a personal moment with the performer; that they are part of the entertainment, and that creates a beautiful connection.”

This audience connection and communication is something that’s also integral to The Clams’ performances: “Externally, we hope that what we do helps create conversation and engages people who might not normally think about the issues that we highlight,” explains Fran. “Our cultural attitudes are ever-evolving – albeit slowly – and the arts have always had an important role in that. Historically women have been isolated from each other in the home and conditioned to think of one another as competitors rather than allies – that’s exactly how patriarchal systems flourish. Coming together as a group is critical and that’s precisely what we represent as The Clams. ”

There’s also a line of people wading into the lake through the thick mud that lines its banks – an insight into the realities of synchro in the wild. “Organisationally it’s tricky as the entry points to the water are not always well spaced. We also meet in small groups in the local river Avon and the sea at Clevedon. The river is good fun as it adds a moving water element and people love to watch us as they walk on the river bank.”

Even when she was an athlete competing, Konstantina believed that synchronised swimming is more akin to ballet than it is gymnastics. “It’s a dance, an art, a performance. The focus should be on expression and artistry, rather than technical execution,” she explains, and this is definitely something that is at the heart of each team. “In ballet, despite it being a strict technical dance, what captures the audience is expression – not flawless, soulless execution. Swimming for entertainment is exactly that. It’s about the artistic part of the choreography and we focus on how our audience feels when they see us.”

But for The Naiads, it’s also about continually pushing boundaries, and they even synchronise their performance with fireworks – both in the water and on dry land. “We were able to swim around a floated firework fountain,” said Konstantina of this feat, which she described as one of the team’s highlights and biggest achievements. The Naiads’ spectacular performances look effortless to the audiences who consume them. But it’s supposed to, that’s part of the appeal – and one of the golden rules of the sport, synchronised swimmers must maintain “an illusion of ease,” according to the rulebook by FINA (the governing body of swimming, diving, water polo, synchronised swimming and open water swimming). A literal human embodiment of the swan metaphor; a perception of calm and control, but what is hidden from the public gaze? A lot of hard work and intense preparation like the manic paddling of webbed feet under the waterline that enables the swan to move with seemingly graceful ease.

“We divide the music in counts, so we know what move to make in each beat of the song,” explains Konstantina, but the team also communicates not by speaking, but by small nods of the head. “We do that only when it is absolutely necessary, though” she asserts. “In high season, we might train five to six times per week,” continues Konstantina. “The synchronisation is the difficult part, which is why our training sessions last so long; three and a half hours on average.”

Although the teams couldn’t be more different, what they have in common is that feeling in the water, together, moving as one. “It’s very exciting and motivating to swim in formation,” says Allison. “You forget about the coldness of the water when you are concentrating on the routine.” Her fellow teammate Sian shares Allison’s passion: “The feel of the water over my body as I propel myself forward is like nothing else. Getting into the zone and letting my mind wander while I swim is heavenly. I often analyse my problems and think through any issues. It’s my time for my brain to declutter.”

According to Fran from The Clams: “It’s a fabulous feeling, swimming with such a supportive and playful group of women and non-binary people.” She added that they recruit new Clams once a year when they put on a new show: “Rehearsals are a lot of fun.” And for us, the audience, there’s no greater escape than getting lost in the aquatic sorcery, comedy, music and movement that these magical women conjure in the water.