Resolution! Ieva Kuniskis, Ceyda Tanc Dance, NRG Dance Company

Details

Category: Reviews

Published: Saturday, 26 January 2013 19:50

Written by Chantal Guevara

While Resolution! provides a platform for people's first choreographic steps, last night highlighted the difference between those who have started out as choreographers, and dancers who are dabbling in choreography.

Ieva Kuniskis's Gone To Get Milk could be described as a work about three disturbed characters, each in their own way. And a lot of oranges.

Gone To Get Milk starts entertainingly with Helen Aschauer running onstage, dropping oranges everywhere before running into the wings, followed by the sounds of urinating and a toilet flushing. We're introduced to each character in turn: Helen Aschauer battling strong emotions while talking to herself in German; Zoe Georgallis, who resorts to cleaning the floor to counter her nervous madness, and the wonderful Charlie Cooper Ford, who walks onstage apparently in mid-conversation, possibly with himself, and possibly about the orange in his hand. This develops into a dynamic solo about letting the orange go or eating it, and eventually settling for tucking it under his chin, appealing for the audience's applause. Charlie's character is perhaps the most accessible of the three, as he relies less on signature moves which don't necessarily convey their meaning.

The three dancers work together extremely well, and Gone To Get Milk successfully creates entertaining relationships between each of them - even if Charlie Ford has a bad habit of always dropping Zoe Georgallis.

Physical theatre work typically neglects choreography, so it's rare to see a work which is both experimental as well as choreographically strong. Even rarer is a piece which is 25 minutes long and doesn't feel its length: the characters and their interactions are entertaining enough that the time flies quickly, and this could easily be the start of a much longer piece for Kuniskis. For starters, we need to see more of Helen Aschauer, and secondly, Gone To Get Milk deserves a stronger ending.


Ceyda Tanc spent four months training at The State Turkish Conservatoire for Music and Dance in Izmir, Turkey, following her graduation from Roehampton University, and she has since been working on creating a movement style which draws on both contemporary dance and traditional Turkish dance.

Volta opens with dramatic flair as occasional bursts of light show dancers walking, duetting, or holding poses. The programme notes refer to a prison walking exercise, and there are a number of walking scenes at the start of Volta, interspersed between sections of dance, and also to clarify the tense relationships between the dancers.

Ceyda Tanc has created very confident choreography with committed performances by all her dancers, effectively using lighting to create a shadowy atmosphere, compounded by Seb Jaeger's evocative score. Volta is impressive in several ways, especially the use of group scenes with her dancers almost perfectly in sync - something even the larger, well-known dance companies struggle to achieve. And we all know that time and money are short when it comes to creating Resolution! works, but it's always a joy to watch a well-rehearsed piece. Ceyda Tanc is definitely onto something.


There's something about performing a work in concentration camp costumes two days before the Holocaust Memorial Day. And after seeing several Resolution! shows, opening scenes in blackout start to lose their novelty. Fast.

Nathan Goodman joined Richard Alston Dance Company after graduating from LCDS in 2009, and interest in his first Resolution! work undoubtedly magnified after his electrifying performances in Martin Lawrance's Madcap in October 2012: after finally seeing him come alive as a dancer, would Elsewhere give us more of an insight into his inspirations as a dancer?

Unfortunately, that didn't really happen: from an awkward Cunningham-influenced beginning, Elsewhere only really found its pace once it moved into street dance territory, transforming Theo Lowe and Nathan Goodman, who seemed to be less comfortable with the more traditional choreography at the start. The sole highlights were a physical duet between Lowe and Goodman, and Goodman later performing a few pyrotechnics, but that was too little in a lengthy piece with lacklustre choreography and a soundtrack of a woman gasping.

Resolution! Charlie Dixon Dance Company, Elena Jacinta, Alotta Fagina

Details

Category: Reviews

Published: Friday, 25 January 2013 12:37

Written by Chantal Guevara

Some emerging artists use Resolution! as a choreographic sandpit, and this evening was very much an example of that approach.

In the interval, Charlie Dixon explained that Long Road had been an opportunity for her to explore ideas and and ways of making work, without having fixed ideas about exactly what she wanted to achieve.

Long Road opened dramatically, with the faint outline of Robert Keates staggering, repeatedly falling, crawling and gasping in complete darkness, until he found his way to a spotlight and stood there, shaking, before collapsing again.

Long Road investigates the impact of war, and each of Dixon's dancers explored different aspects of this theme, with each dancer embodying a different response. Keates was clearly a soldier in combat, repeatedly on fire, as he dodged his way across the stage. Charlotte Pook's character was the most lyrical of the three, with fluid solos but prone to overbalancing, with occasional scenes of furiously scratching her ankle. An interesting device was Pook adopting Sarah Golding's angular and disjointed style of movement when close to her. These random solos were connected by group sections, bringing the characters and their movement back together.

Long Road is a work of many parts, exploring a wide range of styles and themes of possession. It draws its inspiration from extremely graphic photos from the Vietnam War, which did not lose their impact despite being displayed at reduced size during the performance. It's a strange work but engaging, and perhaps requires more than one viewing to make sense of the characters and scenes. 


The second exploratory work of the evening was Alotta Fagina's We're made of stories. Secrets are safe in stories, created by Hofesh dancers Karima El Amrani and Victoria Hoyland. El Amrani and Hoyland started by turning in a slow, crouched circle, slowly expanding their movement in small ways, building up their movement gradually.

At times We're made of stories seemed self-indulgent, with the dancers taking time to explore movement in its rawest forms; these scenes were less penetrable for the audience, contrasting with the more enjoyable scenes when the piece picked up pace and dynamism, mesmerising the audience.

It closed on a very poignant scene, with Hoyland in a handstand over El Amrani's head; the low lighting and haze made it hard for the audience to tell where individual limbs were, and which belonged to who.


The unexpected success of the evening was Elena Jacinta's Pieces of Mosaic, proving that less is more, and that simple understated works can be far more effective than more elaborate ones.

Jacinta's programme notes explained that Pieces of Mosaic was an exploration of the idea, expectations and experiences of performance; this was conveyed through solos by three women of very different movement qualities and personalities, with few interactions between them.

Pieces of Mosaic opened with a very fluid solo by Tomomi Kosano, showing what a beautiful and graceful dancer she is, which contrasted sharply with Carys Staton's more hesitant and poised solo, drawing out movements as though savouring each one, in an almost contemplative way, and later exploring the stage and her relationship to it. In further contrast, Natalia Iwaniec appeared to be playing a neverending round of charades, drawing on a wide range of random mimes.

Natalia Iwaniec's character demonstrated performance in its basest form, luxuriating being in the spotlight, complete with faux-sensual solos. Tomomi Kosano's performances were beautiful to watch, especially when repeating one of Carys Staton's solos, however Carys Staton - recently seen in Russell Maliphant's The Rodin Project - was by far the most engaging performer, with her perpetually concerned and anxious facial expressions and quirky responses. Well done to Elena Jacinta and her dancers.

Resolution! Arc, Tara D'Arquian, Sounding Motion

Details

Category: Reviews

Published: Friday, 25 January 2013 10:58

Written by Rachel Vogel

Eighty-one works form the line up for the Resolution! platform, a chance for new and newer choreographers to engage with creating work through a supportive network of people. The mixed bill offered in last night’s programme formed an eclectic focus for artistic merit, appealing to three different tastes in choreographic creation and execution.

Leading was Arc’s A Sense of Beauty. A work appealing to and using the unique physiology of each dancer, the piece occurs mainly within the confines of one structure, created by two ladders with an adjoining board. The piece was emotionally endearing, creating characterizations through music, dance style and costume. Such a varying array of ideas had its charm, but unfortunately felt one-dimensional at times, the dancers pushed toward one movement dynamic within the confines of the concept. The live instrumentalist, while adding interest, had a confusing part in the storyline and once extracted, showed no more involvement in what was occurring on stage. The inclusive nature of the work in the end was heart-warming and demonstrates potential for all bodies in the realm of dance.

Tara D’Arquian’s May Our Bodies Become Bodies Again arrived at an emotional opposite for the first piece, a testament to how mixed these nights can be. The audience is used as a visual perspective pivot, technical hands change a frame that sets up a "room", a movement phrase is repeated over and over, infrequently embellished on but continuously portrayed with the same intensity. With perspectives changing, the story for the audience grows, the dancers on a set loop that could either represent days passing, relationship continuity, or several different couples. There were The Truman Show-esque moments created through this repetition, a hypnotic sameness that was effective overall. When the set finally stopped changing, other dancers were added, mimicking costume and phrase but performing with differing details. The splash of the different was welcome, but confused the unfolding nature of the story. Still, there was enough visual intrigue and reassurance of what could be seen to create a piece that was visually compelling.

The third and final piece of the night was an unrelenting portrayal of labour under the sun, demonstrated to the backdrop of Sicillian folk songs. Sounding Motion’s Naturale pared back choreography, costume and music to create the insistent pace to coincide with the concept. The hypnotic development of movement achieved an overall movement rhythm for the work, though the continuously developing solos appeared to be somewhat calculated and were only punctuated with a few (more satisfying) moments of unity. The live musicians were divided on stage causing a split focus, and this coupled with the split within the dancers was prone to create an excess of activity. A smaller space may have developed the intimacy that lacked in this piece, connecting the soulfulness of the Sicillian lyrics, the musicians and dancers on a more coherent level.

The diversity of the works shown as Wednesday’s edition of Resolution! demonstrated the assortment of ideas forming in the minds of a creative hub of budding choreographers. The complexity of structures and concepts beginning to be realized in these works has the potential to distil into something very compelling. In the spirit of works in progress, this mixed bag has shown varying strength in physical, emotional and conceptual ideas and continues to resound how exciting this dance platform can be.

Resolution! Georgia Tegou, WatkinsDance, Matthew Robinson

Details

Category: Reviews

Published: Tuesday, 22 January 2013 19:19

Written by Chantal Guevara

Some evenings at Resolution! are better than others. Unfortunately, Saturday's triple bill did not fall into this category.

Georgia Tegou's Yet Another Day was the product of a collaboration between Roehampton University and Royal Academy of Music students, which might have been an interesting experiment for both parties, however the result was absolute torture by music: avant-garde flute music, with an overreliance on high-pitched screeches. The agony of having to listen to this for approximately 15 minutes detracted from Tegou's choreography, which focussed on very basic movement with an improvised feel. Although there was little in the choreography to hold interest, much less overpower the flautists' cacophony, Tegou did display a skill at creating arresting tableaux, from the opening scene of four women holding balls of string attached to chairs, to the final scene with one dancer, supported by the others, about to fall into an apparent abyss.


Anna Watkins received Arts Council funding to tour a full evening of her work, including Inseparable, so it was a surprise to see her return to Resolution!, especially with this duet.

From a promising start, Inseparable quickly degenerated into little more than an ongoing tussle between the two dancers, with occasional interesting ideas and moves, sadly outnumbered by the rest of the uninspired movement. It seems to be a characteristic of Watkins's choreographic style to draw on multiple dance styles, which makes it harder for her to define her own choreographic voice, which would strengthen her work significantly.

Despite several performances of Inseparable, it still needs considerable editing to remove unnecessary sections which add nothing to the story or the message of this work: duets can be fascinating, an opportunity for exploring creative ways of partnering (example: James Cousins' There We Have Been); it's a shame to see Inseparable fail to live up to its potential.


The final work of the evening - true to the adage of the best being saved for last - was Matthew Robinson's Vacant Skin, originally inspired by a short film he made last year, and aimed to explore to what extent people are defined by external imagery.

This was Robinson's first abstract Resolution! work, having created two previous theatrical works with fellow Scottish Dance Theatre dancer Toby Fitzgibbons. Vacant Skin was at its strongest with Robinson displaying his talent at intuitively creating ways of not only how to move, but also how to move the body, beautifully performed by fellow Scottish Dance Theatre dancers Eve Ganneau, Nicole Guarino and Naomi Murray.

It's an expectation that Resolution! performances are of works in progress, and Vacant Skin is a good example of this: some very good ideas, and some very good choreography and performances, but requiring further work before it can be the piece it deserves to be; in the meantime, Vacant Skin shows a hell of a lot of promise.

Resolution! MonixArts, RK Dance, MurleyDance

Details

Category: Reviews

Published: Wednesday, 16 January 2013 23:38

Written by Chantal Guevara

One thing which many people from other artforms tend to overlook is exactly how much time and hard work it takes to create a work of dance - which is important to remember when comparing a finished piece to its trailer or rehearsal video. That's especially true for Resolution!, a season of creativity and creative twists and turns for new choreographers, so that the finished product is rarely what one expects.

We all love a good choreographed fight scene, don't we? How many of you are Buffy fans? MonixArts's work 'Nu.V.Na' (Nurture vs Nature) ostensibly explored dancers reacting to conflict, but in reality drew on Monica Nicolaides's judo and jiu-jitsu training by performing a full lexicon of martial arts moves. If there had been time, it would have been wonderful if Nicolaides's dancers could have spent some time inside a dojo: while the concept was admirable and interesting, the dancers lacked the technique, attack and conviction necessary to perform these moves as required.

That was only one aspect of 'Nu.V.Na', however: the dancers were far more comfortable and confident with the rest of Nicolaides's choreography, which better demonstrated her ability as an assured and talented choreographer.

And in the meantime, it was good to see that the costumes from Riccardo Buscarini's 'Athletes' were being put to good use! [Note: they were different costumes, just remarkably similar].


Ryota Kodera's 'Yamato - Nadeshiko' was an atmospheric exploration of Japanese geisha culture, using the lyricism of traditional Japanese movement to good effect, even from simple gestures. Using delicate choreography, Kodera's at-times complex choreography was deftly performed by all three dancers, especially by Tomomi Kosano.

Kodera's choreographic style was an intriguing blend of traditional Japanese movement and contemporary dance, but the audience would have benefitted from more specific explanations in the programme notes of what traditions and scenes Kodera was depicting, as the meaning was lost on much of the audience, and the choreography alone wasn't enough to sustain some people's interest.


The final work of the evening was MurleyDance's 'La Peau', a work inspired by iconic artwork and using iconic music: it could only bode well. And as Resolution! is all about diverse lineups and very mixed bills, why not have some ballet alongside faux martial arts and Japanese geisha?

La Peau was a work in four parts; as the piece progressed, the material improved, and David Murley's talent as a gifted and quirky storyteller overrode his choreographic ability. Reminiscent of Matthew Bourne's earlier works, Murley shows absolute commitment to detail and scene-setting - when was the last time you watched a 20-minute piece with peacock feathers, a Persian rug, a giant clam shell and a zimmer frame?!

The comic highlight of La Peau was 'Aging', inspired by Botticelli's 'Birth of Venus', accompanied by Janis Joplin's 'A Woman Left Lonely', which saw Lucy Casson as an aged crone, precariously perched behind a zimmer frame and insincerely chaperoned by Georgina Connolly and the wonderful Bianca Hopkins in trim red PVC minidresses, more concerned with their nails than with Casson's welfare - trying to trip her up with the giant clam shell at every opportunity.

La Peau offered Murley the opportunity to showcase a wide range of his choreographic talents, by creating four very differing scenes - including a solo for a smouldering bodybuilder in the final scene, who strips down to his dance belt - however Murley's ample choreographic abilities were overshadowed by his gift for creativity, characterisation and storytelling. Murley's is definitely a talent to be nurtured.

Resolution! Chris Pavia, Tom Bowes Dance, Mazzilli Dance Theatre

Details

Category: Reviews

Published: Wednesday, 16 January 2013 23:19

Written by Anna Pearce

The night of Tuesday 15th January at Resolution! 2013 opened with Chris Pavia's Captured by the Dark, a fitting title for this eerily-staged duet between dancers Hannah Sampson and Tomos Young (both of Stopgap Dance Company, as is Pavia).

A relationship is instantly set up between these two performers, the intensity of Young's gaze highlighted by Sampson covering her own eyes. There are human touches and subtle nuances of weariness or urgency that give a sense of real connection between the performers: a satisfying extra layer to the sometimes quite stark movement material.

Young’s physicality is eternally watchable, and with Sampson’s fluidity and natural energy, the two meet in some occasionally tentative, but often tender moments of contact and interaction. Such moments are highlighted to great effect by Sarah Gilmartin’s lighting design.

In an unexpected shift in energy fuelled by Dougal Irvine’s engulfing score, the work becomes somewhat cartoonesque. The two dancers do well to fill the stage, and there is a constant sense of there being more than just the two of them in the space.

In a circular structure, the piece calms once more, referencing earlier movement, now in a (quite possibly deliberate) unrelenting way. The final image is strong and memorable, an apt punctuation to this intriguing and carefully thought out piece by Pavia.


The shadowy visuals, sudden changes and stormy soundtrack are all themes which continue into the second piece of the night. Tom Bowes' Brute presents a quartet, satisfyingly united in their various black garments and boots, gradually dispersing from the downstage left spotlight. 

The dancers twitch and pull together and apart, through some almost stilted exchanges and some moments of real connection in unison. A recurring theme of hands reaching and plucking at the air relates perhaps to the sense of ‘decision and discovery’ detailed in the programme note, although there are times when this, and the periodic upward focus become affected and unexplained.

The piece is at its strongest when all four dancers move individually, but in close quarters and with real conviction. ‘Brute’ seems to end just as swiftly as it began, with a sense of things being left unseen or unsaid.


Mazzilli Dance Theatre’s For How Much begins (though we didn’t know it initially) with the audience being accosted by a comical, yet slightly unnerving and manic gentleman in the foyer during the interval. He ushers the already intrigued audience back into the auditorium where the stage holds eight performers, a pianist at his piano, and piles and piles of clothing.

The one male and six female dancers surround the man we first met in the foyer, and from this tumbling flock of bodies, troubled solos break out and return as the momentum builds to a fighting energy with satisfyingly messy exchanges of weight. Andy Higgs’ accompaniment to this, both live and recorded, is beautiful.

The juxtaposition of the comical and the sinister running side by side throughout this work is used to great effect, particularly in a colourful ‘family portrait’ moment, where fixed grins become manic and a dancers begin to paw at each other with increasing urgency.

The piece moves on at a pleasing pace, and is at its strongest in moments of suggestion relating to the themes of human trafficking and forced labour. One solitary dancer is burdened with piles of garments, and a fluid and feminine quintet displays further sensitive choreography by Annarita Mazzilli.

As the work draws to a close, the title ‘For How Much?’, is clearly referenced, as gradually every performer moves through the space with handfuls of coins: shaking, dropping, scrabbling, spinning, stealing, donating, caressing and rolling them until the one solitary dancer remains, still and alone.

I left feeling inexplicably haunted by this last piece; and with an overall sense of satisfaction from my first outing to this year’s Resolution! platform… I look forward to the next!

Resolution! Liz Liew & Yuyu Rau, David Willdridge, Attach Dance Company

Details

Category: Reviews

Published: Sunday, 13 January 2013 21:01

Written by Chantal Guevara

Last night's triple bill reinforced that Resolution! is ultimately about creating a space in which new and less-new choreographers can experiment artistically in a "safe" environment, largely consisting of family and friends, as we were reminded with Attach Dance Company's raucous welcome by the audience. Sometimes the results are less successful than others, but that's simply part of their process of developing as artists.


The feel of experimentation is especially true for Yuyu Rau, who has collaborated with musician Liz Liew for Snapshots, her third Resolution! creation, and the first one she has performed in herself. Beauty Unveiled, her 2010 Resolution! work, was a very polished piece, launching her distinctive Chinese-contemporary style, while her 2012 work, Beloved Emoh, was an extremely introspective and personal piece, and Snapshots explored the emotions surrounding a number of Liew's memories.

From the opening scene, where Rau appeared to be a delighted sprite in a Grecian red dress, with echoes of Isadora Duncan, we were taken through a range of mostly happy memories, although the most interesting parts of Rau's choreography were when she returned to her Chinese-influenced style of dance; her dramatic facial expressions during these sections was a reminder of Rau's ability to captivate the Sadler's Wells audience during her The Most Incredible Thing performances. These sections were all too brief, however, and by comparison, the rest of the choreography seemed to lack challenge and complexity.

Despite being 25 minutes in length, Snapshots could easily become a significantly longer work, with the wealth of Liew's memories - hinted at through her childhood snapshots at the end - to plunder, however Snapshots was made to feel longer than it actually was, with frequent costume changes and musical interludes and too-short scenes. Dennis Kwong Thye Lee's performance on the guzheng (Chinese zither) was breathtaking, and Rau is always an enjoyable dancer to watch, but last night's performance felt like the start of a long and interesting journey for Snapshots before it reaches completion.


By contrast, David Willdridge's Leave Elegance To The Tailor was a confident, understated work: the type of piece which makes people fall in love with contemporary dance.

Officially about the distortion of memories, Leave Elegance offered the audience the opportunity to relish watching two extremely good dancers move, from Willdridge's fluid, animal-like grace in the opening scene, to his powerful and haunting duets with Daniela B Larsen. Larsen seemed a little underused at times, but in the context of the programme notes, she appeared to be the embodiment of past memories - making the work sometimes reminiscent of The Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.

Leave Elegance To The Tailor was an unexpected treat, and one to be savoured. Please can we have more performances of this?


Di-Vide, by Attach Dance Company, was a sharp departure from Andy Macleman's and Drew Hawkins's Drone, which had been performed at the Bob Lockyer celebrations (read our review) last April - Resolution! again proving itself to be an opportunity for new choreographers to explore with ideas and styles. While Drone had been an understated and simple work, Macleman and Hawkins clearly wanted to offer much much more in Di-Vide, with little remaining from Drone apart from their stillness in motion.

Di-Vide was a work in two halves, itself divided by the music, with Lucien Dubuis's La Danse des Machines creating a jaunty, Charlestonesque feel, contrasting with the seriousness of the second half, with music by Haxan Cloak.

The programme notes offered several definitions for "divide", and this was perhaps most notable in the difference in choreography for the two women (Hannah Wintie and Emily Thompson-Smith) compared with that for Macleman and Hawkins, which made the same-sex duets far more effective than the mixed-sex duets; the men's strong partnership was evident in the confidence and ease of their partnerwork.

Ultimately, however, the other three dancers struggled to match Macleman's prowess, although in one scene, Wintie echoed a breathtaking solo by Macleman, and was also whipped around in the air by Hawkins.

Di-Vide showed a lot of promise, and it was refreshing to see Macleman and Hawkins explore with shifting dynamics, different styles and different dancers - let's see what they create next!

New Adventures: Sleeping Beauty

Details

Category: Reviews

Published: Monday, 10 December 2012 02:31

Written by Rachel Vogel

{plgMFV}

Well-known for his classic adaptations, Matthew Bourne has once again embraced the opportunity to recreate a fairy tale: Sleeping Beauty. Claiming a Tchaikovsky ballet for the third time running, Bourne has streamlined this story into a gothic retelling, adding whimsical elements to delight and surprise the audience.

Originally choreographed in 1890 by Marius Petipa, Sleeping Beauty was then considered a technical venture of epic proportions. Narrowing the lens of the story, Bourne created token gestures referencing original movements, but reinvents and appropriates the solos at will. Instead of a ballroom filled with people, the audience is given a room of Fairies, bestowing their gifts to delight the child in the dark of night. In a delightful twist, the Lilac Fairy emerges surprisingly as a dominant male, a commanding and protective spirit for the child.

Most notable was Bourne’s alteration of characterisations. No longer is Aurora in the sidelines of her own story, but is represented as a willful and engaging child demonstrated through the clever use of puppetry. An endearing scene with the child Aurora being chased around the room by her nurse allows for the believable development of Aurora into an adult, one curious and rebellious enough to prick her finger on an enchanted flower.

If baby puppet Aurora dominated and delighted the audience in act one, act two’s surprise was the arrival of the evil Carabosse’s son, Caradoc. Rivaling the love Aurora had found in her family’s gardener Leo, Caradoc attempts to make Aurora his own, intending to claim her life as he takes her as his own. Thwarting his plan, Leo is only able to penetrate the gates of the house and survive the sleep through the mercy of Christopher Marney as the Lilac Fairy, who is all gothic grandeur, possessing hidden vampiric talent. These modern inflections are what allow Bourne’s adaptation to re-contextualise the story itself, cleverly providing sound solutions to holes in the tale (how would Leo live through one hundred years without being enchanted?).

Though large-scale scenes are avoided as a general rule in this work, there was still some surprising alternatives. Aurora’s sixteenth birthday, occurring in 1911 was, with the aid of talented designer Lez Brotherston, an Edwardian explosion of waltz and ‘The Castle Walk’. Equally stimulating was “the land of the sleepwalkers”, a clever use of blindfolded dancers under enchantment allowing for the continuation of Aurora as an active dancer rather than as a passive character.

Those who prefer a true take on Tchaikovsky’s ballet may be disappointed by the alterations Bourne has undertaken, but in doing so Bourne has recreated, spliced and spiced up the original. Focussed around the central story, contextualized to present day, Bourne has evolved the fairytale to create something engaging and applicable to audiences who see the true value and timelessness of a good fairytale.

C-12 Dance Theatre: Emerge

Details

Category: Reviews

Published: Wednesday, 21 November 2012 16:59

Written by Anna Pearce

{plgMFV}

The Space in Westferry provided an intimate, up-close and somewhat cosy setting for this triple bill of work by C-12 Dance Theatre’s established and emerging choreographers.

James Williams’s ‘In New Light’ opened the programme, demonstrating slick, fluid, well-rehearsed movement material performed on, over, around and underneath a black sofa.  A duet for Williams and Ana Dias, ‘In New Light’ starts with a bang (a very loud bang, from live musician Janette Williams’s drumkit), and gradually builds from dimly lit, thoughtfully placed gestural motifs, into an accomplished partnership of the two performers.

There is a serene and nonchalant energy as Dias and Williams deftly shift and tip the sofa to create surprising and pleasing moments that are revisited but constantly developed and further explored throughout the work.

The live drums are accompanied by Andrew Willshire on bass guitar, which is made the focus of the work as the dancers become still. Willshire’s melancholic chords serve to bring about a shift in energy in the piece, and give way to a simple exchange and first suggestion of real human connection between the two dancers. Building on this, the movement relationship becomes playful towards the end of the piece, developing the work and changing the feeling of the space in a way that enriched the precision of the movement in a way that had not been demonstrated earlier on in the work.

After a short break, the evening moved on to the second guest choreographer of the evening,  Miranda Mac Letten’s ‘The Endeavour To Be Super’. This was a playful, engaging work that explores its four characters’ feelings of being behind the mask of a super hero, and then exposed as themselves.

Letten demonstrates insightful use of stock cartoon super hero movements, and all four of the creeping, tip-toeing performers made good use of their proximity to the audience in the intimate performance space.

Comedic sequences of a phone ringing, and the dancers covertly shifting around the set, comprising of two wallpapered panels with framed Batman prints on, gave a sense of a plot thickening, although it is never quite clear what that plot might be.

The light-hearted, mischievous exchanges between the four dancers continue, and build into very genuine struggles and scuffles, supported by the familiar ‘BANG’, ‘ZAP’, ‘WHAM’ cartoon signs; it is humorous and enjoyable. The humour begins to dissipate towards the end, as John Ross reacts physically to Camila Guiterrez dropping sheets of cartoon words, and a more sinister tone is suggested, just as the piece ends, leaving Ross lying defeated on the floor, with a sense that there may be something here to be continued.

The final piece of the night was an extract from ‘Scorned’ by C-12’s Artistic Director Annie-Lunnette Deakin-Foster, featuring ‘four fierce, powerful and disgruntled women’. Through a series of lyrical unison phrases, and detail in trembling hands and tightly wound facial expressions, the audience are witness to their collective and individual angst.

These four very individual bodies (two in white slip dresses, two in black) are perhaps not used as effectively as possible, but as a group they are powerful. Moments of note include skilful use of a large white sheet, entwining each dancer at a time, shifting, lifting and carrying them through a series of dynamic and unexpected exchanges.

The movement material constantly responds to the soundtrack of rich strings, harpsichord and electric guitar, at times in a way which can seem over the top or forced. The more engaging sections are of defiant unison, with echoes of vocabulary from strong women such as Martha Graham.

With a five-night run at The Space, there is every reason to see this varied and engaging evening of work.

Batsheva Ensemble: Deca Dance

Details

Category: Reviews

Published: Tuesday, 20 November 2012 02:20

Written by Chantal Guevara

{plgMFV}

Some might describe Batsheva Ensemble as "NDT2 with beards". Both companies are peopled with prodigiously talented dancers in their late teens and early 20s, both perform works by Ohad Naharin - and in fact, part of the joy of this evening's performance was in seeing pieces previously performed at Sadler's Wells by NDT2 - but the similarity peters out there. Batsheva Ensemble's performances are an explosion of Gaga technique, the movement language developed by Artistic Director Ohad Naharin back in the '90s, and which we've had limited exposure to so far through Hofesh Shechter's work - but Batsheva Ensemble reminds us of the full richness and potential of this way of dancing.

Starting with a solitary dancer entertaining the audience before the show started, the stage slowly filled with more and more dancers, moving individually until their movement seemed to snap into sync as a voiceover commanded "Ignore. Ignore All" - fitting words for a performance disrupted by anti-Israeli protests.

While we've watched Ohad Naharin's works previously through NDT2's performances, and Batsheva Dance Company's three prior visits to London, this is our first chance to see his works performed by his own dancers in over four years and fittingly, Deca Dance is a medley of Naharin's past works, an ever-evolving selection which varies according to the current repertoire of the parent company. It's an excellent way to explore the great diversity of Naharin's creativity, and the talent of his young dancers. Even the music ranged from traditional Hebrew songs and the Academy of Ancient Music all the way to Goldfrapp. And throughout the evening, we're given ample opportunities to marvel at the unique quality of the dancers' movement, whether of their sheer physical control, whether in tiny movements, or how perfectly in sync they perform, even when all 16 dancers are on stage.

Although excerpts from eight works were performed, the standout pieces were Black Milk, Virus and Kyr. Black Milk, with five men wearing just longyi-like trousers, was oddly reminiscent of Russell Maliphant's recent The Rodin Project, with elegant sculptural choreography which developed to give the work a more tribal feel, forging strong relationships between the dancers. Spurred on by Paul Smadbeck’s “Etude no. 3 for Marimba", the movement was lively and dynamic, always flowing, whether the dancers were leaping in the air, or smearing their faces and bodies with mud.

Other works such as Virus showed how tightly choreographed the entire company can perform, with solos alternating between group, well, body-shaking, while an duet frin Mabul to baroque music displays Naharin's quirkiness, largely consisting of a man trying to poke his partner's stomach. And Kyr. While clips of it are available on YouTube, little prepares you for the sheer power of seeing it performed live, with the dancers throwing themselves backwards (or in one poor dancer's case, endlessly forwards), hats flung away and the dancers shouting along to the song.

It's impossible to mention Batsheva Ensemble's performances without referring to the protests which have dogged them since their tour started in late October. Hefty security measures were in place at Sadler's Wells - as their Brighton performance had had to be cancelled due to the protests - which delayed the start of the show, meaning the audience was treated to an impromptu entertainment by two of the dancers until the show could start. And when protesters in the auditorium shouted out, the audience tried to drown them out with applause for the dancers.

While the show was tainted by unpleasantness and delays, if anything, it increased the audience's support and appreciation, creating a truly electric atmosphere, itself boosted by the amazing performances. There are only two chances left to see Batsheva Ensemble in London, and few tickets left; whatever the inconvenience, do NOT miss them!

Alias: Sideways Rain

Details

Category: Reviews

Published: Saturday, 17 November 2012 23:17

Written by Caroline Schreiber

{plgMFV}

Sideways Rain presents Alias' choreographer Guihermo Botelho's take on the evolution of mankind and our constant need to change and adapt. The cast of 16 dancers perform a series of movement in a continuous flow from left to right.

It starts with performers crawling across the stage on a haunting score by Mexican composer Fernando Corona. Music and movement accelerates and the performers become almost like insects or primal creatures, relevant to the theme of the piece. The choreography then takes on a liquid quality: a fluidity that kicks off the optical illusion that the floor of the stage is moving like a conveyor belt. This trick runs throughout the whole performance very successfully.

The constant stream of bodies across the stage in varying movement sequences also starts dehumanising the performers who at times become what could be viewed as a rolling bush, a passing fish or any other creature that one might envisage. Botelho creates an environment open to interpretation. There is limited but quite beautiful interactions constantly interrupted by the flow which seems incapable of stopping.

Towards the end, the sequences become increasingly human, with dancers now looking up or down, altogether starting to acknowledge their surroundings. Very subtle costume changes happen seamlessly, accentuating the gender of performers: women lose their trousers for skirts or dresses and men their tshirts for shirts. Then, the flow hastens in a final crescendo that ends up with naked bodies running across the stage pulling a thin string along with them. This results in another optical illusion of speed and movement which, combined with the naked runners, feels like a commentary on the human condition of our need to just ‘keep going’, much like life itself.

The ‘evolution’ doesn’t happen chronologically or in an explicit way but it is somewhat successful in creating a reflection on mankind’s journey - if you read the programme notes. Intermittent lulls and dips of energy were felt throughout the audience but not for very long. However it did make the performance slightly lumpy and not as cohesive as one would hope.

The main downfall of this performance is the confusing on-off narrative moments which feel unnecessary, out of place and completely disposable. At one point in the constant stream, a man and a woman stop and acknowledge each other. That moment felt like the performance was gearing in a different, maybe more explicit direction but ended up being yet another isolated incident which just didn’t quite work.

The cast really showcased some incredible dance talent and control, all magnified by their connection as a company which comes across very strongly.

Overall, Sideways Rain is a visually pleasing performance which plays very clever optical tricks and successfully makes dancers shapeshift from humans to ‘things’ through movement. However, it slightly lacked in consistency partly due to the odd isolated attempts to create a narrative disrupting the flow of energy felt by the audience.

Vincent Dance Theatre: Motherland

Details

Category: Reviews

Published: Saturday, 17 November 2012 23:07

Written by Anna Pearce

{plgMFV}

One of the great things about the performance space in the Robin Howard Dance Theatre at The Place is the proximity of the audience to the performers and their experiences on stage. As Charlotte Vincent’s cast of ten (five men, four women and one child) present their smiling selves to their audience in the opening of Motherland, the smiles connected and felt infectious, many in the audience smiling back at them.

The opening moves into a sequence which recurs four more times before the work is over: a female performer slugs a bloodlike substance from a wine bottle against the stark white backdrop, lifts her skirts, and hovers over it. Diagonally opposite her, another woman collapses in a heap, all to the gentle sounds of musician Scott Smith at the piano.

As with this recurring scene, marking a passing of time perhaps, suggestion is everything in this work. There are comical suggestions, as when dancer Robert Clark unzips his trousers to pull out a banana, and enthusiastically eat it; there are more profound suggestions, as young performer Leah Yeger asks a seductively standing Patrycja Kujawska, ‘why are you doing that?’.

The young Yeger’s presence in the work serves to encourage the audience to see things through younger eyes: moments when she sees something she is perhaps not supposed to, or is beckoned away by another performer highlight further what it is that we are watching.

Vincent utilises her varied cast wonderfully, and the partnering we see in a slow-motion fight sequence (between two men, between two women, between a man and a woman, with an old couple dancing and a child watching) is a testimony to her trademark strong partnering material. And yet nothing was forced, or over the top, or gratuitous. There was almost a sense of containment of these clearly very accomplished performers; if anything, they were perhaps held back in terms of movement to allow a more human side to radiate through. An example of this is Greig Cooke’s idiosyncratic solo, which recurred many times, in many forms, shifting forwards and backwards, where he is joined by two men in a show of raw, shouting masculinity, and later it becomes a tender male / female duet.

There is wildly, comically-celebrated simulated sex, there is a trio of screaming female rock musicians in their underwear, there is an uplifting ensemble sequence revelling in the fertility of the Earth. There are moments of true ridiculousness, one being Janusz Orlik in a little black dress and stilettos, gyrating and screaming out graphic pop song lyrics, and moments of real human tenderness, as we hear Benita Oakley,  the eldest member of the cast, tell her story of being a young, unmarried mother. The live–voiced (by performer Aurora Lubus) ‘baby sounds’ which accompany this should not work, but somehow do: it is absorbing and emotive.

These tender moments that draw you in are rife throughout Motherland, and too often the very functional transitions into the following scene took something away from the momentum, and otherwise real cohesion, of the work.

The subject of gender and particularly of femininity is gently, comically, but very definitely highlighted. It is interesting though that the five male performers are never outwardly aggressive, dominating, or intimidating towards the women; any idea such as this is simply implied, or suggested. It is suggested through sequences such as when musicians Alexandru Catona and Scott Smith stand either side of Patrycja Kujawska shouting, calling for ‘a virgin and a whore’, a woman ‘in control, but not too controlling’, ‘mother material, but not a single mother’.

The issues that Motherland explores are all issues we are aware of, all things that we are aware we ought to change. Not needing to give us any new information, what it does do is gently nudge these ideas and stories to the forefront of our minds. In an entertaining, emotive, albeit rather long two hours, it gives them a human face, it highlights how ridiculous things have become. And through astute casting, and giving only just enough away, it successfully, quietly questions the effect that all this has on our future generations.

Jasmin Vardimon: Freedom

Details

Category: Reviews

Published: Saturday, 17 November 2012 18:50

Written by Rachel Vogel

{plgMFV}

Freedom, Jasmin Vardimon’s new work is a hard-hitting overload of scenarios, exploring what it is that creates freedom for the individual, ultimately posing the suggestion that this concept may only be possible in the imagination. Intriguing in concept, the actuality of this idea seemed to spill forth in a hazy, convoluted way, often muddying scenarios which had, at first, seemed clearer.

A promising beginning, Vardimon (in collaboration with Guy Bar-Amotz) created a set which resembled a forest, abstractly constructed using pipes and greenery. The atmosphere in itself was effective, and formed an interesting point of collision for incoming vignettes both adapting to and contrasting with the environment. Music blasts forth and permeates the set, energising the dancers with a popular mix from John Lennon to Led Zeppelin.

In her signature style, Vardimon’s movement style is virtuosic and powerful. Dancers toss themselves around the stage, and even in quieter moments strut with a sense of purpose. This movement style lends itself to duets that are mesmerizing in their physical and emotive gravity. In one instance, a couple pull toward one another and push one another away, a convincing display of freedom through passion. These explorations of freedom are tokens that there was some deeper choreographic exploration on the theme of freedom, though not evenly along all avenues.

Entertaining in small chunks, there were a few too many moments of repetitious uncertainty. In one episode, a girl comes on stage, playfully whispering, “I want to… tell you… a story… it’s about… ” Though this scene repeats itself constantly through the piece, it hardly develops, and the inefficiency of language (and thus a barrier to freedom?) is not strong enough to thoroughly convince the audience of the idea.

These vignettes continue, though demonstrating no further connectivity. Many that are revisited are seen through a darker shade, and antagonistic take on the initial idea. An effective form for a longer development, the length and depth of these explorations did not do the dancers justice. The scenarios became too many and too non-sensical, often self-defeating.

While exciting to see a performance where the dancers really moved, the overarching form disrupted the power in the work. Vardimon’s movement vocabulary remains exciting and vibrant, but in a structure so dissonant, one can’t help but leave a little disappointed.

Arthur Pita: God’s Garden

Details

Category: Reviews

Published: Friday, 09 November 2012 21:57

Written by Lucy Jarvis

With a slap of a young woman’s foot on wood and an elbow jabbed to the sky, Arthur Pita’s God’s Garden bursts out of Eden and surges into an earthy mix of sin, jealousy and revenge. Set in Madeira in a suburban back garden, the piece is a take on the parable ‘The Prodigal Son’, following the narrative of a vengeful jilted bride and runaway groom. Traditional Portuguese folk dance is mixed with grounded, angular contemporary movement and satirical interpretations of typical flouncy love duets. Sprinkled with Portuguese text and song the piece is like watching a foreign film, with an ambiguity that leaves the audience with intrigue and uncertainty.   

However, the pain and empowerment of women is the real subject of this story. Three women represent iconic stages in female life: a Bride (Helen Auschauer), a Grandmother (Dianne Payne-Myers), and a young woman yearning for a child (Scarlett Perdereau). They each long for what they have not got (a husband, a baby and youth), yet the three have unique strengths in overcoming their problems. The Bride has the power of revenge, standing directly on-top of her Groom’s foetal body. The Sister has an almost demonic command where in scenes of devilish rage she stops time with her arms spread wide, looking to the heavens. The Grandmother, on the other hand, shows great strength through her extravagant solo of high kicks and splits, an astounding feat for an 84 year old woman.

What is most striking about the piece is the attention to detail. Providing a lesson in choreographic timing and wit, no stone is left unturned for Pita. If a shovel hits the ground, earth is placed beneath it; when the two women of the house wash the Son (Nuno Queimado), every of his body is covered; he even stands on his head so they can reach his feet. Pita has a knack for comic timing and quirky additions. In one such moment, Payne-Myers maps out her grave with the help of the Father (Michael Small) and her walking stick. Manipulating Payne-Myers's body with the stick to drag, lift and shuffle her into the right position (arms crossed across her chest), when Small is finally done, he hands her a shovel and she begins to dig.

In the penultimate night of their revival tour in Birmingham’s Patrick Centre, this diverse cast provided a meticulous, intriguing and surprising performance. Pita’s uniquely idiosyncratic approach creates a fresh look on this well-known parable in black comedy style. Nevertheless, the real charm of the piece is in the dysfunctional family dynamic, which through its oddities seems uncannily familiar.
 

Rosas: Cesena

Details

Category: Reviews

Published: Friday, 09 November 2012 16:21

Written by Caroline Schreiber

Cesena starts with a very sudden blackout. A single dim light beams onto the bare stage revealing hints of a large circle made out of salt or sand. The audience is thrown straight into the middle of the night for a journey through to daybreak.

As the audience’s eyes are still getting use to the low light, silence is broken by frantic movement noises of a naked performer running around then stopping, facing the audience at the edge of the stage to sing, a cappella, a piercing wholesome song which fills the air like a thick fog. He then disappears to let the other eighteen performers move in a tight and jerky rhythm up and down the stage and through the circle, almost taking ownership of it.

A wonderful obscurity lets the entrancing voices of early music-inspired vocal group grainedelavoix penetrate the audience as we are asked to second-guess the movement taking place on stage. The nineteen bodies on stage move and sing with acute precision as the performance develops from obscurity to daybreak in a realistic timeframe of nearly two hours. The 14th century Ars Subitor (A More Subtle Art) score presents a series of intricate and complex songs where voices intertwine in a wonderful chaotic harmony essential to the atmosphere created.

As the ‘day breaks’, the stage becomes more visible and we see it completely bare in all directions. It doesn’t resemble a theatre space; rather, it seems like site chosen specifically for this performance. This also means that the performers have nowhere to hide, nowhere to rest which, in turn, demands the same from the audience.

The early music style is embodied by the choreography and many sequences feel like expressions of laments. Dancers and singers form one wholesome body which evolves in varying shapes and expressions. Dancers sing and singers dance throughout, giving the performance an incredible integrity and plunging the audience in a total immersion.   

Cesena seems completely self-sufficient whilst gripping the audience in a sort of trance. Never does the audience feel fully part of the performance, but the intensity of the voices and movements holds a tension which makes us unable to think of anything else. Audience engagement is embodied through our core whilst we feel completely irrelevant to the events onstage. This unfamiliar experience really gives a sort of distant intimacy, almost as if a passive soul could watch its body from afar.

This is a highly immersive and demanding journey from dusk to daybreak made out of a wonderful marriage of choreography and songs which fill the audience with resonance. De Keersmaeker challenges her cast, stretching them to the very edge of their ability and her audience to keep up with events happening onstage. It is a hard challenge of stamina and concentration which, if overcome, leaves the audience drained of emotion as we witness a sublime moment of this wonderful time of the night (and day) stolen from our otherwise busy and disconnected lives.
 

Rosas: En Atendant

Details

Category: Reviews

Published: Friday, 09 November 2012 10:18

Written by Rachel Vogel

Anne Teresa De Keersmaeker’s work En Atendant is a mindful, peaceful, and simple work where each movement is a resonating hum in accord with her conceptual decisions. Consistently inspired by music, Keersmaeker has in previous works played with music by The Beatles, Mahler, Coltrane, and Reich, but in En Atendant, Keersmaeker has moved further back in history, to the late 14th Century, a musical period known as Ars Subtilior, a polyphonic form based on dissonance and contrast.

True to form, Keersmaeker has used these complex musical forms to create a choreographic language that is both pedestrian and rich in abstraction. Though her development process is exacting and articulate, the end result is as meditative as the musical score, movement concurrently growing and receding with the ebb and flow of the music, led and abandoned by live performers on stage. Neither music or dance creates an entire piece, but there are stages within the work where one element overlaps and diminishes another. Neither is dominant, yet both are equally responsible for the propulsion behind the work.

In its initial incarnation, the work took place outdoors at dusk, in the courtyard of a monastery. The stage as Sadler's Wells has been well-manipulated to form a similar impression, the light fading to the back of the stage, the floor stripped bare, and a single rustic wooden bench for the musicians. The dancers, clothed in simple blacks, move with a solemn grace which exemplifies the exactingness of the movement.

The most physically exciting part of the work occurs when a line of dancers “explode” into simultaneous movement, forming trios and pairs, interlinking, shifting and moving through one another and the space. Individuality amongst the group, but not enough to break it is a fragile yet effective visual delight.

To create a piece which is calming and sophisticated, yet not boring, is a difficult line to create. Keersmaeker can teeter on the edge, but perseverance and understanding are well rewarded, for when you yourself become quieter, enjoying the movement and musical vocabulary that this choreographer can offer, an enticing and mysterious world await to be experienced.
 

Royal Ballet: Viscera, Infra & Fool's Paradise

Details

Category: Reviews

Published: Tuesday, 06 November 2012 14:36

Written by Kat Lister

Whispers titillate the Floral Hall that tonight's Triple Bill is a sign of things to come. A decade under the helm of Dame Monica Mason and the masses are expecting something different from newly-crowned Artistic Director Kevin O'Hare. Despite being dubbed a "practical" choice by some, it is worth noting that this evening's triple performance is entirely contemporary: not a MacMillan in sight. Which doesn't seem *so* practical, does it? It is also no coincidence that the Royal Ballet's first ever artist in residence kicks off the night.

The name on everyone's lips tonight is Liam Scarlett and many are asking the inevitable: Is this O'Hare's McGregor? The answer is, not quite yet. Liam himself has described Viscera, created a year ago for Miami City Ballet, as 'plotless', and this self-confessed evaluation rings true tonight. Whilst Viscera promises a great deal from Royal Ballet's new resident, Scarlett is yet to punch his mark and find his voice. But let's start with the positives: polished, elegant and beautifully-lit, theatrical plum-dyed flamenco flourishes show the depth of Scarlett's originality - when he trusts in instinct. Which is the crux of this new work: when Liam hits his stride, the tenderness and intimacy he ignites between his dancers show the depth of passion within. A feline stroke of Marianela Nuñez's face against Ryoichi Hirano's arch is all that it takes. It is unfortunate, then, that these brief moments are overwritten by formulaic group dances that lack his own stamp and a sense of direction and purpose.

Whereas Scarlett's Viscera is strangely absent, the return of Wayne McGregor's Infra is gut-wrenchingly present, slicing through the austerity mist. The ecstasy of Infra sparks with every slight nuance: that flick of Eric Underwood's foot, as if looking for trodden chewing gum on the sole. Day-to-day drudgery and despair is captured, warts and all. Principal dancers are scanned like a value-pack of baked beans. The wasteland of the soul cries out against a factory line of anonymous commuters. Edward Watson jogs backward offstage, as if being rewound, paused and played again at normal speed. And there is that beautiful pas-de-deux, as Underwood cradles Melissa Hamilton in spite of the chaos. Each dancer is on their own journey, and yet the piece is fused together by a collective desire. That desire for hope when all seems lost. Infra is surely McGregor's masterpiece.

And so we are left with Christopher Wheeldon's Fool's Paradise, a visually-soothing work which dreamily glides yet fails to awaken. Underwhelming is never something one associates with Wheeldon, and yet the faultless beauty of both the golden light and Joby Talbot's emotive score leaves us wanting something more from his nine dancers, including Sarah Lamb, Federico Bonelli, Melissa Hamilton, Edward Watson and Steven McRae. That said, it is a lovely piece to watch, and when the cinematic confetti falls, the haunting imagery of Sam Mendes' American Beauty is evoked.

As the night draws to a close, the real name on everyone's lips is Kevin O'Hare. Proving himself capable of injecting the Opera House with a new lease of modernity, tonight has invested in contemporary choreographic talent and demonsted an uncompromising commitment to showcasing it, warts and all. Long may it continue...

Russell Maliphant: The Rodin Project

Details

Category: Reviews

Published: Monday, 05 November 2012 01:31

Written by Anna Pearce

The curtain at Sadlers Wells opens on Russell Maliphant's opening night of The Rodin Project to reveal a set sumptuously dressed in flowing white linen, warmly lit, to the enchanting sound of Alexander Zekke's strings.

The opening serves as a good indication of what is to come, as we are gradually introduced to Maliphant's six dancers in a tumble of fluid limbs and ever-changing levels and planes. The loin cloth-like costumes and clear definition of male / female gender roles suggest a celebration of the human form, as of course does much of Rodin's sculptural work, and these dancers' bodies serve them well. Pedestrian, carefully-placed exchanges build to become emotive duets, including one of note between Tommy Franzén and Jennifer White. The execution of the movement is languidly engaging, and through a steady flow of gradually-building energy and sound, the audience are invited to observe, not bombarded or harassed in any way.

In the programme, Maliphant discusses how the process involved in this project has been an ongoing one, and the dancers' continuing exploration of their subject matter is evident. Throughout the work there is a sense of introspection, of the performers describing something unseen.

As the energy continues to build, but the light, soft quality - a result of the floor also being linen-clad - remains, the work started to become a little self-indulgent. That being said, as the (at times contrived) relationship between sound and movement continued to develop, and momentum built, the first half ended, inexplicably and abruptly, leaving the audience wanting more.

And more we were granted, as the second act revealed the set now stripped bare, a stark playground of slanting platforms and walls, the undulating use of which gave a sense of there being many more performers than just the six.

With the dancers now in sportswear, the movement material became more abstract, isolated, animalistic and almost tribal; the influence of popping and locking styles within the choreography, specialities of dancers Dickson Mbi and Franzén, becoming increasingly evident.

In this somewhat disjointed second act, we see a mixture of short female solos, rare but well-placed unison, and a pensive and beautiful duet on a wall by Franzén and Mbi.

In another scene, the female soloists, Staton and White, are nude, bringing a sense of vulnerability and subtle provocation to the work. These moments, demonstrating yet more lighting triumphs by Michael Hulls are satisfyingly non-gratuitous.

There were more than a couple of moments which seemed to bring about a conclusion to the piece, but on it went, building in vigour, including a strobing section reminiscent of a sportswear advert, and gradually, increasingly acknowledging the audience with a more outward focus.

The sliding minor chords of the soundscape form an absorbing cohesion with the sliding sinuous bodies that we see, and the work ends with a sense of satisfaction. The earth did not move, but an absorbing ninety minutes were spent watching six incredible performers do what they do best.
 

Eddie Ladd/Judith Roberts

Details

Category: Reviews

Published: Friday, 26 October 2012 23:54

Written by Rachel Vogel

Part narrative, part history lesson, Eddie Ladd and Judith Roberts in their work Gaza/Blaenannerch examine the Palestine and Israeli conflict with surprising artistic sensitivity. By paralleling Wales and Palestine by way of the struggle for an independent identity, these Welsh creators connect these countries and histories, allowing them both an objective and subjective standpoint on the situation. Seamlessly both choreographer and director navigate between movement and dialogue, developing a visual narrative with words, embellished and built upon using sections of anguished and physically penetrable movement.

Eddie Ladd has a gift of presenting honest movement. Establishing such a transparency renders her body a mirror for feeling. By manipulating a configuration of rocks, Ladd used these props as anchoring points for the development of the piece, progressive milestones that gradually reveal more of the work. This skillful unfolding of a non-linear narrative is what keeps this work interesting. Though it’s easy to become bogged down with the gravity and enormity of information in the piece, there are moments, breaks, where “lessons” occur, the information within the piece is examined from a different viewpoint, dissecting the pace of the work. In one example, Ladd lists “Acetone” at the top of a blackboard, and “Zionism” on the bottom. Explaining how these concepts relate to the overall structure feeds audience curiosity, and placates the intellectual and historical buffs through artistic ingenuity.

If this piece sounds technical, you’re getting the right sort of image. The history of the Palestine struggle, and the subsequent tone of the current situation is the backbone of everything that is delivered in this work. The encouraging thing is that it is unnecessary for a strong grounding in history or politics to interpret and appreciate what Ladd and Roberts state. Flecks of humour, of ignorance, or speculation pepper the work and filter this genre from educational lecture to physical theatre. Roberts, playing the role of the director displays a sounding point for Ladd to vocally move toward and physically respond to, balancing on piles of rocks, crawling up chalk-boards and giving her body in to simple yet weighted movement.

What the piece lacks in virtuosity, it gains in uniqueness. For someone looking for dance, this work may seem somewhat lacking in movement, but for choreographic and narrative development, physical strength and complexity this work possessed a compelling depth that cannot be overlooked. Do not be put off, but encouraged by the subject matter. History isn’t only for the classroom.
 

Michael Clark Company: New Work

Details

Category: Reviews

Published: Thursday, 25 October 2012 23:57

Written by Caroline Schreiber

In a very busy Barbican Centre, an eclectic mix of audience members makes its way to the theatre to see the highly anticipated ‘New Work’ by the Michael Clark Company.

The first half opens with Harry Alexander hanging on a wire, being brought down from above still and expressionless, characterising the company’s performance in the first half. Accompanied by an enchanting and easy listening score by Scritti Politti, eight dancers in simple black costumes perform a choreography comprising of basic ballet moves recognisable to all. With no set and a backdrop switching through a palette of warm colours, the audience's attention is solely on the dancers. The simplicity of both the choreography and the stripped-down staging promises a spectacle of exceptional dance and control which doesn’t always deliver. Saying that, this understated, almost neutral work - across facial expressions, costume, staging and choreography - is easy to watch and lasts a sufficient 25 minutes.

In the second half, the mood changes: the cast appears in a fluid choreography dressed in red dip-dyed leotards, accompanied by Pulp's 'F.E.E.L.I.N.G.C.A.L.L.E.D.L.O.V.E.' In almost an alien-like manner, they come in and out of the (still) understated stage in varying formations really showcasing some lovely choreography with the physical control explored in the first half of the show. There is a definite climax building up with accelerating music, pace and backdrop projections as words slide in all directions, backwards, forward and upside down. The audience's attention is suddenly diverted to deciphering the projection, giving the dancers time to disappear and change costumes. The words ‘What?’ ‘Who?’, ‘Why Me?’ and ‘I’m thinking about starting a zoo’ can be read. The buildup seems to lead to the unveiling of Jarvis Crocker and his Relaxed Muscle musicians dressed in what resembles Mexican Day of the Dead costumes as the backdrop lifts and turns the rest of the show into a strange rock-meets-dance gig.

The zoo reference is then echoed by the black and white costumes and highly-charged animal instinct choreography. At this point, the dancers really seem to be enjoying themselves and there is an element of play and fun in their performance. The mixture of a much more elaborate lighting design by Charles Atlas, mirrored stools as props and energetic rock music and performance by Jarvis Crocker invites the audience to shift to the edge of their seats and bop their heads along with the rhythm. But the novelty wears off slightly and Jarvis’s performance at times feels uncomfortably misplaced, particularly when he walks down to the front row of a now very static audience. His performance at times outstages the dancers and the anticipated climax is dubitable.

Exceptional dancing from the whole cast, particularly from Julie Cunningham, has to be noted as well as two light-hearted cameos from Michael Clark himself, clearly giving the starstruck audience butterflies.

Overall this finale is a good piece which resonates with the usual Clarkian strong relationship between choreography and pop music. It works as a whole, leaving the audience energised and jolly but arguably fails to really cohere between pieces and fails to climax to an explosive end as it feels it should.