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DESH, Akram Khan

Akram Khan's 'DESH' premiered at the Curve in Leicester in mid-September and was acclaimed as "the most urgent, beautiful and confident work of his career" by Judith Mackrell (source) and "a masterpiece, the best thing that he has ever done" by Luke Jennings (source). After the disappointment of Vertical Road, it was wonderful to see Akram Khan back on form, returning to what he does best. It also reminded us of the exquisite pleasure of simply watching Akram Khan move.

 

'DESH' has been described as a personal journey reflecting on life in Bangladesh, assisted by several notable collaborators including Oscar-winning Chinese visual artist Tim Yip and lighting designer Michael Hulls. Throughout the course of the evening, we saw Akram Khan adopt various persona: dodging traffic, hassling with technical support, an elderly village cook, a father trying to connect his small daughter to her Bangladeshi past, a son struggling to connect with his father through voicemail messages... Each of these characters embellished the story, returning at later points in the evening, narrated by light choreography. The driving force of this work was the storytelling, which was enhanced by Tim Yip's designs, which led to a section of interplay between Khan and Yip's images, including Khan riding a boat through line-drawn mangrove swamps and even plucking a fish from out of an animated crocodile's mouth (and discarding it).

 

Akram Khan is a master of his art, but his art involves more than just pure dance, whether that of narrating a literal or figurative journey, as in Bahok or last year's Vertical Road. Each piece he creates is personal to Khan and so represents an aspect of his own personal journey. The joy of exploring each is Khan's unique movement vocabulary, fusing his native Kathak dance with contemporary dance and other influences such as martial arts, which is always mesmerising to watch. Composer Jocelyn Pook's score was exceptionally haunting, reminiscent of the tribal/Celtic fusion music of Baka Beyond, or of Lisa Gerrard's vocals from Dead Can Dance.

 

There are few people whose sole physical presence can captivate audiences' attention for an hour or more, but Akram Khan is one of them, and the full house at Sadler's Wells was fully engrossed, enthusiastically giving him a standing ovation at the end. And yet DESH felt somewhat empty, with too much emphasis on narrative and special effects, with the dance content secondary to both, dispersed to fit around and between the story segments. We were left with many haunting images and sequences.... just not enough for the length of the show. And so it's probably worth seeing for a second time appreciate it all the more fully.

 

 

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La La La Human Steps

Although there had been some concern among members of the audience about the 90-minute running time, without an interval, La La La Human Steps quickly proved that they can achieve in 90 minutes what other companies would take several hours to do.

 

'New Work' was La La La Human Steps' first performance in London for over four years, and a celebration of the company's thirty years which has seen collaborations with Frank Zappa, David Bowie, Iggy Pop and Opéra de Paris to name but a few. In this time, the company's choreographic style has changed dramatically, with a fusion of classical and contemporary styles, and an emphasis on the dancers' almost unnatural speed. 'New Work' also displayed choreographer Édouard Lock's interest in film and lighting as integral parts of the performance. It claimed to be a fusion of Purcell’s Dido and Aeneas, and Gluck’s Orpheus and Eurydice, however in Lock's narrative-free choreography, there was little indication of this.

 

The performance opened with two women depicted on two large screens; were they grandmother and granddaughter? Was one the digitally aged version of the other? Why were we watching them, and how were they connected to the performance? We saw this pair of women and another pair four times during the performance - we watched them fidget, feign sleep and look at each other. Then the screens would be removed, and the dance would resume. Later in the piece, the women were replaced by retinal images and finally by an image of superimposed bodies moving out of sync with each other, creating a Kali-esque effect.

 

The opening sequences of 'New Work' were performed with an energy and dynamism which was sustained throughout the performance, displayed in a series of balletic solos, duets and other group pieces including incidences of dancers dancing together yet independently of each other. And while the effect was impressive, the repetitiveness of the choreography emphasised the limited movement vocabulary of this work, which served mostly to highlight the motion of the dancers' arms and legs, accentuated by skimpy costumes and low lighting throughout. There were numerous echoes of Swan Lake during the piece - which was also mentioned in the reviews of the 2008 performance of 'Amjad' - as well as frequent snakelike movements. To offset the frenetic movement of the dancers, the surplus dancers created tableaux onstage, while the live musicians - playing a haunting score by Gavin Bryars on cello, saxophone, violin and a grand piano - sat to the rear of the stage.

 

Overall, it was an exhausting experience for the audience to watch such rapid choreography in very dim lighting, and we were left with a feeling that the piece suffered from having an excess of things to say, and insufficient editing to pare it down to a more realistic length. While it was definitely an enjoyable performance, and worth watching just to experience the beauty of it, it'd be a much more rewarding experience had it been reduced to 45 minutes in length.

 

 

 

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The Metamorphosis, Royal Ballet

The Linbury Studio Theatre is buzzing, and Edward Watson hasn’t even begun to take his insect form yet (excuse the pun). The audience seat themselves in and around either side of a pure white floor and two walls, and are immediately invited to enter into the hygienic world of the Samsa family. We are quickly informed of this family’s fetish mannerisms as son Gregor obsessively checks the clock, tensely lying in bed, whilst next door daughter Grete (Laura Day) happily does her homework in the company of her careful mother (Nina Goldman) and out of work father (Anton Skrzypiciel). And many of the audience are still yet to take their seats, stepping straight into the experience which interprets Franz Kafka’s 1915 novella.

 

As the room settles we are introduced to the daily routine of Gregor, the travelling salesman, in which it must be noted that the set is used exquisitely. His journey is repeated several times, and the channel that separates the audience and performance area either side is used to symbolize Gregor’s outside location. We picture the image of a train as smoke billows from a far end and an enthusiastic ‘trolley dolly’ persona grows amusing with repetition. The recurrence of these day to day patterns allows certain connections, particularly with Gregor and his sister, to be recognised. Oddly quirky music accompanies the unfolding narrative, summing up the slightly disturbing quality that depicts this family. Frank Moon is evidently in sync with the choreographer’s artistic notions, providing a very fitting soundtrack throughout.

Arthur Pita has cleverly choreographed this narrative which follows the troubles and woes of a family whose son has awoken as an insect, consequently breaking down the support he once provided for his family, forcing his father to go back to work and find lodgers. The movement content is highly relatable to each character and their story. For example, Ed’s astonishing physical ability puts any insect to shame as his limbs intertwine in a curious fashion, whilst his ballet enthusiastic sister’s movement vocabulary consists of that form. This is prominent throughout the literal pedestrian actions, using particular styles when necessary. It works beautifully as Grete, being the only one impassioned to work past the thrown up slime to help her older brother, portrays their connection through a frustrated ballet practise sequence which possesses an insect like quality, poisoning her aesthetics.

 

Funnily enough, as a piece of dance I no longer desired to question the movement itself almost instantly, it is all wonderful and it is all vital. It is the piece as a whole, a queer yet extraordinary theatrical experience that captures the soul. And this is what happens when brilliant artists such as Arthur permit dance and theatre to take their vows and join in holy matrimony. Dance theatre rarely fails to produce such magical ordeals, and The Metamorphosis is without a doubt one of those inspirational pieces... with the help of a lot of goo. The narrative is clear with Arthur’s contemporary twists despite a rich and in depth essence applied to all aspects and theatrics of the piece. It sounds incredibly obvious, but we are told a story through dance. However, due to being told it through Arthur’s remarkable vision, we abruptly realise just how wonderful it is to encounter.

 

The acting essentially melts into the movement, and is thankfully stunning by every last performer. To resist initially crediting Laura Day would be a crying shame due to such an astonishing performance from this young lady, who is in her graduating year at the Royal Ballet School. Not only was her acting (and singing!) almost perfect, her technical skills as a ballet dancer were to die for. She is a name I urge others to remember as there is an exciting future awaiting her; unashamedly I was thoroughly mesmerised by her performance. But what delighted myself in particular, was the creative beauty that Laura and the other classically trained cast members produced. I could not, and would not like to imagine anyone else taking on Ed’s role. The phrase ‘star quality’ could not be applied more, and let’s face it, you’d have to be a star to not only spew treacle so effectively, but to execute such fascinating movement swimming in utter slime; strangely inspiring. Both Nina Goldman and Anton Skrzypiciel gave their roles such honest attention which I couldn’t bear to forget in a hurry, dueting in a touching yet surreal manner with their children. Whilst Greig Cooke and Joe Walkling were efficient naturals, whether that be an angry clerk, a conventional train conductor, or (on the other end of the scale) scaring the living daylights out of the audience as nightmare worthy insects. I was thrilled to discover that former Candoco Dance Company member Bettina Carpi was cast in this piece, and it was once again an absolute pleasure enduring such a phenomenal presence on stage. Similarly with other performances she gives, she captured the creative essence of Arthur’s piece brilliantly.

 

The Metamorphosis seemed to have everything, yet remains so unique. Embodying such distinctive style, we even pick up the most detailed aspects like that of the play’s Freudian attributes. Quite a tragic yet disturbing tale, I expected it to go of either two ways; a startling random display, or a character filled narrative. Impressively, it went both. Vomit-worthy in a good way and a spectacular artistic mess that doesn’t deserve to be missed. All hail dance theatre, all hail Arthur Pita!

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We'd like to give a very warm welcome to our new bloggers Celia Moran and Kelly Crocker, who have recently started writing for us - and we hope to add several more writers over the upcoming weeks. I'm also intending to start a regular "What To See" column, and may be persuaded to write about other topics too. 

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