Reviews

Danza Contemporánea de Cuba

In a discussion at The Place last autumn, Akram Khan mentioned how terrifying and intimidating the Sadler's Wells audiences can be, especially on press night. Maybe Danza Contemporánea de Cuba felt some of this intimidation last night, as certainly the triple bill appeared to be performed by two separate yet identical companies: one which performed the first two works, and a second which relished every moment of the final piece, which it performed to perfection.

The opening piece Sombrisa was choreographed by one of 2012's most ubiquitous choreographers, Itzik Galili, using Cuba's twin passions of dancing and boxing as its premise. Unfortunately, the boxing motif only extended to each of the dancers wearing boxing gloves, and was not explored further. The handicap of the gloves led to interesting challenges during the partnerwork, which were the more watchable parts of Sombrisa, along with the occasional flying somersault. Unfortunately for an opening piece, Sombrisa exposed the company's flaws rather too quickly, and left them exposed for the duration of the piece: either Sombrisa needed more rehearsal time, or the dancers are each too individual to conform to tight timing and choreography in this work.

The company, or at least seven male dancers, gave a more cohesive performance in Kenneth Kvarnström's Carmen?!, a somewhat excruciating take on the classic story, but without any Carmens in sight, or, as with Sombrisa, without much conviction in their performances. The choreography owed much to the Trocks, relying on gags to entertain the audience in a heavily theatrical piece.

The reward for the dancers was the final piece of the evening, Mambo 3XXI, which received multiple award nominations after its London performances in 2010, and the cast's performances were so transformed, it was hard to recognise them as the dancers who had gone through the motions of two-thirds of the programme. And in Mambo 3XXI, we could finally see why this company had received such praise in their last visit: it is high-powered, exciting and dynamic, with tight performances which show off the company at its best. The dancers visibly enjoyed this piece far more, which fuelled the audience's excitement, resulting in rapturous applause.

Perhaps Danza Contemporánea de Cuba set the bar too high with their last tour, and chose to be too experimental for this tour. A triple bill of works like Mambo 3XXI would have resulted in an amazing night of dance, instead of the awkward performances and disappointing choreography of the rest of the programme. Let's hope they track down their mojo for the remaining performances and manage to thrill London audiences all over again before they leave.

 

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Company Chameleon: Gameshow

In the world of the TV gameshow, it is normally only the contestant whose luck is out: the audience is entertained whether the participants are winning or losing. Unfortunately, Company Chameleon decided to turn this truism on its head.

The production had a lot to commend it: both Anthony Missen's and Kevin Edward Turner's performances were fully committed and energetic, with characterisation that was well-sustained throughout. Turner's character was the epitome of smarmy, cocksure, audience-manipulating presenter workhorse (think Vernon Kay meets Keith Lemon), and he rarely fell below 95% Dale Winton intensity while in 'on air' mode. His highly-detailed and well-nuanced performance was engaging and was the pulse of the show. Missen's contestant was performed with conviction but lacked the complexity and depth of the presenter's character, and unfortunately something about his focus just didn't seem to connect with the audience.

The dance highlights were the duets where any type of physical contact was involved, no matter how lightly. When working in this form, Missen and Turner were more adventurous with how they pushed their largely pedestrian movement vocabulary. Orientation, rhythm and gravity were played with, and the dancers came 'off-centre' frequently, which was more visually exciting than the majority of the unpartnered movement.

Unfortunately, thematically, Gameshow was not cohesive. It had too much going on and it ignored the areas which could have been very interesting while over-developing (and over-indulging) its duller aspects. It was also too long, far too long. Gameshow was billed as an interrogation of our mass-media culture and also a parody of the extreme degree to which 'celebrity' culture has pushed aspirational living. At the same time, Company Chameleon state that they believe that dance theatre is a vital method for social change. Although many links between these three aims can be found, in this production they sat together uncomfortably. What started promisingly as a witty absurdist questioning of the status quo morphed into a melodrama where the shallow existence of the presenter character was revealed, but with an excess of mournful sympathy. Did Company Chameleon want this Machiavellian character to have his cake and eat it? The contestant, affable Dave, eventually became empowered enough to sabotage the Gameshow and become independent of his puppet master. Nevertheless, I found it strange that he had got to this position seemingly as a result of his experiences on the show, rather than in spite of them. Plaudits to Company Chameleon for not going down the obvious high-handed preachy route but it did leave me wondering, what end-point had they reached with this subject? Play along because the get-rich-quick self-humiliating "reality" TV show culture will eventually make you happy? Or perhaps the clue was in Dave's final challenge, getting people to say they loved him even though "you don't have to mean it though". Perhaps Dave eventually just believed his own hype.

More confusing, however, were the adverts and the strange political references dropped on to the piece like F-bombs in front of your grandmother. Although the pay-per-view TV advert of a boxing match where Osama Bin Laden broke George Bush's neck, or the extremely crass suicide joke, or even the reference to flying Libyan Airways and the Lockerbie bombing were possibly conceptually interesting, in that real life was desperately trying to be heard amongst the cacophony of 'reality' TV and yet was having absolutely zero impact, it was just very disjointed and bizarre.

Despite cramming in all of the above, the piece didn't seem to have anything further to offer in terms of the development of its themes during the final 30 of its 70 long minutes. It lost its way when it became more of a drama about two well-acted, but in the end rather dull characters, and the promise of its witty cultural interrogation fizzled out.

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Emio Greco ¦ PC

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Exploring masculinity and brotherhood through parallels between the worlds of dance and boxing, Emio Greco ¦ PC's choreography is highly textured and exploding with sinewy tension. As the audience drifts into the theatre, two performers are seated in the corners of the boxing ring which forms the set, casually chainsmoking and each absorbed in his own thoughts. As the iconic sound of the boxing-bell rings, two mascots in Mickey-Mouse-proportioned monkey masks begin a menacing, nervous energy-fuelled pantomime of boxing which is both amusing and unsettling. Their comic display highlights the theatre of boxing: this is more of a WWF performance than an honest sporting enterprise and the opening section is the first of many variations on this theme.

The ever-present form of the boxing duel takes on the significance and complexity of the ballet pas de deux. Through it, we see the men preparing themselves, tendu exercises are executed with attack, precision and repetition before quivering legs belie the men's emotional state. The fighting itself is drawn in various guises: psychological standoffs, contemporary movement vocabulary danced at each other (which often looks more aggressive than the actual punches thrown) and more instantly-recognisable boxing and wrestling which is variously performed naturalistically and at times more stylised or 'danced'. When time is slowed down, it becomes apparent how many similarities there are between the pure dance values of repetition, rhythm and technical movement and the structure of the spectacle of boxing. Before the "Pauze", the men are either preparing themselves, psyching each other out or fighting in various ways. The two mascots ditch their masks and fight wearing full-face balaclavas, becoming both 'no man' and 'every man'. They continue to gradually strip off through progressive rounds and their fighting becomes harder, more personal and real. Eventually they ditch their trousers to reveal leggings, one boxer in contour-revealing black and the other in sparkly gold. The laughter this provokes is natural but slightly stilted. We have been watching men being very masculine and aggressive but we are in the Queen Elizabeth Hall on London's Southbank, watching contemporary dance. is it really such a surprise to us that men can be both 'macho' and violent and also effeminate?

Because of the new costume, we can no longer read the boxing at face value. With the traditional archetype of masculinity subverted the relationship between the men as they duel becomes more complex. Now that visually the idea of gay has been introduced each wrestle becomes an embrace; the proximity of the sweaty half naked bodies is more homoerotic. Through a hilariously camp cheesy mimed French love song, this dimension of the relationships is pushed until, as the bell rings, the men start to passionately kiss. More laughter from the audience ensues which is largely borne from the comedic timing, but even in my reading of the work as a gay man, there is still something unusual and striking about the sight of two men kissing in this testosterone-fuelled arena.

Each time the bell rings the mood changes and we are variously shown men showing off, developing their physicality, intimidating each other, fighting, flirting and being sexual. All very stereotypically manly, all very instinctual or 'animal'. Where are the higher brain functions of these men? Language, culture and complex thought are lacking. Are Emio Greco ¦ PC simply being selective about the aspects of masculinity that they are exploring in Double Points: Rocco or is it that this is what they believe are the most masculine of personal traits?

This portrayal of the complexity of men's relationships was danced clearly and intelligently. The virtuosic technical dance feats performed emphasised the alpha male status of these men because of rather than despite the ballet slippers they wore. The occasional frailties visible in the struggle to find and hold clean balances, although never missed, served to deepen the characterisation of the performances. I recognised a lot of myself in the themes explored but not the whole of me. While this was a powerfully detailed and thorough exploration of the more testosterone-fuelled aspects of masculinity, if the idea was to look at the whole of what it is to be a man and to develop relationships with other men, then it was somewhat shallow in its scope. It was an exciting and dramatic piece of dance theatre nonetheless and if you are fortunate enough to be in the Netherlands this year they are touring widely in June, August, November and December.
 

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Early Adventures

It's been quite a week of Matthew Bourne revivals, with the release of his much-loved Swan Lake in 3D, followed swiftly by the London performances of the retrospective of his earliest works. Not only is Early Adventures a fascinating glimpse into Bourne's formative years as a choreographer, but it also helps to put his later works into perspective - and if that wasn't enough, it's also a brilliantly entertaining night out!

Four works were presented (if you count Town and Country as separate pieces, by virtue of the interval dividing them) dating from the earliest days of Adventures in Motion Pictures: Spitfire was created in 1988, The Infernal Galop (sic) in 1989, and Town & Country in 1991; Swan Lake was not created until 1995, following the successes of Nutcracker! and Highland Fling. There was a comparatively small cast for this production, allowing each of the cast members to stand out, with particularly memorable and enjoyable performances from Mikah Smillie, Kerry Biggin, Drew McOnie and Chris Marney.

Spitfire was a very lighthearted comic work with four men posturing in old-fashioned sportswear, each trying to outdo the others. Each of the solos were exaggerated, drawing out extra laughs, with Chris Marney's solo a cariacature of classical ballet - and uncannily reminiscent of his later role in Dorian Gray.

Town opened with Land of Hope and Glory, set in a hotel lobby with Joe Walkling and Kerry Biggin accompanying on ukelele - Kerry serenading one of the male guests, who later pulled out some embroidery from his bag, and looked affronted when caught with it by Chris Marney. The latter half of Town was apparently a condensed retelling of the classic film Brief Encounter: two couples meet at a train station, and we saw their relationship develop through riding scooters, cinemas and picnics; the couples' eventual parting was contrasted by the happy relationship between their initial waiters.

Country is to be credited for the most lovable characters in a dance show: the fox, rabbit and hedgehog puppets - who will surely get standing ovations of their own before the week is out! And it's always impressive when a small puppet on the side of a stage can captivate an entire audience of around 1500 people.

Country presented an Olde Worlde Englande, opening with English Country Garden, milkmaids and men in smocks. The backdrop of fields was reminiscent of David Hockney, with sound effects of lambs bleating, insects buzzing, horses neighing... and other animals making their animal noises. The cast performed a myriad of roles, making the piece somewhat evocative of Downton Abbey.

Country showed that Bourne is at his best when his work is more theatrical; it was harder to follow the less theatrical, less comical dance sequences - except for an outstanding anguished night-time solo by Marney.

The Infernal Galop was a return to Bourne's more recognisable style, with very precise partnering and characterisation, however with less comedy. Set in an idealised Paris, Galop was perfectly staged and nuanced, covering dancing sailors, pissoir flirting, a hookup frustrated by an overenthusiastic choir, a luscious mermaid and an extremely dignified can-can.

While the works demonstrate Bourne's comedic genius, his attention to every gesture and his silent movie approach, it is interesting to see Bourne exploring both dance theatre and pure dance in these early works - and what a different place the dance world would be if he had chosen the latter.

For Bourne's legacy is significant: while celebrating his 25 years in dance, his influence can largely be seen in musical theatre choreography, with Drew McOnie becoming a very sought-after choreographer, while Sasha Regan's all-male musicals at Union Theatre (and beyond) can surely be seen as a direct descendant of Bourne's works.

Despite some of the works being a little unbalanced, and occasionally obscure, Early Adventures is a fantastic feelgood show, and if you haven't watched dance before, there's no better place to start!

 

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Rambert Dance Company

For the last few years, Rambert Dance Company's springtime visits to Sadler's Wells have been one of the highlights of the dance calendar, with a somewhat more exciting programme than that offered in the autumn season: last spring brought us the performances of Paul Taylor's Roses, and Tim Rushton's Monolith; the spring before saw the revival premiere of Siobhan Davies's award-winning Art of Touch. So given Rambert's track record, this programme should have been a surefire success, yet somehow it didn't quite hit the spot.

On the day of the opening performance, Rambert were preparing a time capsule for their new home, and asking people on Twitter and Facebook to share their memories of Rambert for inclusion. For me, Art of Touch was the piece which made me fall in love with Rambert, back in 2010. And while it was easily the most accomplished and polished work of the evening, it was also the one which suffered the most from its setting: it's a piece which is best suited to intimate performances, and to close proximity to the dancers; some of the magic is somehow lost when viewed from a distance.

Baroque music is often used in contemporary dance, but rarely used to such an effect as in Davies's Art of Touch, with complementary costumes and set, with walls of burnished bronze. The choreography was an intricate interpretation of the score, with very fine performances from each dancer, however the piece didn't really develop or progress throughout its somewhat lengthy duration.

While its parts were individually striking, especially Angela Towler's duets and solos, the dancers seemed somehow prevented from domineering the stage the way they should, perhaps due to the lighting, and also due to the small movements in much of the choreography which don't project well. Given the beauty of the work and of the dancers' performances, this was a shame - and a good reason to see this show again at a later date.

The opening piece of the evening was SUB by Itzik Galili, following on from the brightly-coloured high energy of Galili's A Linha Curva. SUB was the complete opposite: a moody restrained work for seven male dancers. It opened with playful tussling, leading to sinuous  solos. The tone of the work remained delicate and graceful throughout, an appropriate contrast with the all-powerful "boy bands" of contemporary dance, reminding us that male dancers don't always need to be showing off their strength. At times, SUB seemed to retain some of the spirit of Mark Baldwin's Seven For A Secret, Never To Be Told, with the dancers resembling schoolboys playing games and mock-fighting.

SUB started off with huge promise and swiftly plateaued, however it finally found its stride towards the end, when all of the dancers were in frieze on stage, with one of them at performing a solo at a time. SUB is a piece you want to love, but there's some little thing missing: perhaps it's more cohesion.

The second premiere of the evening was Mark Baldwin's What Wild Ecstasy, a reworking of Nijinsky's Apres-midi d'un faun, which was also performed. 2012 has been a very Faun-filled year so far, from Sergei Polunin's deplorable performance in Ivan Putrov's Men In Motion, to English National Ballet's somewhat bland but far better performance - and now with Dane Hurst as the Faun, surely the ideal choice for an animalistic otherworldy creature. Rambert's dancers are renowned for imbuing their roles with personality, and so Hurst's Faun, Pieter Symond's Nymph and the accompanying nymphs were far more vivid and engaging than in previous performances.

Henrietta Horn's Cardoon Club had been mentioned several times prior to the performance, and perhaps aptly, for Mark Baldwin's What Wild Ecstasy could be seen as a natural successor to Cardoon Club's eccentricity. With three enormous wasps hovering overhead, Rambert's dancers were in a myriad of bad-taste clubbing outfits, creating the imagery of a Faun and Nymph. Using the percussion and the wildness of the music and repetition, it seemed evocative of something primeval, with scenes suggestive of ritual coupling and/or partnering. And at the last minute, What Wild Ecstasy reworked the closing scene of Faun.... with lots of little yellow balls tumbling from above. Oh yes.

While the majority of the works in this programme are not the finest works we've seen performed by Rambert, the performances from the dancers were breathtaking, with Jonathan Goddard's performances standing out in each piece. Given the vast repertoire of the company, and the wide repertoire they tour each season, a few disappointments are perhaps to be expected - but for the dancers' sakes, we hope their upcoming seasons are filled with many works far more worthy of them.
 

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Arcaladanza: 'Clouds'

Aracaladanza, the critically-acclaimed Madrid-based dance company, brought their touring performance of Clouds, known in Spanish as Nubes, to Jerwood Dance House in Ipswich this week.

Co-commissioned by Dance East and Sadler’s Wells, Clouds is a family show inspired by the works of the Belgian surrealist painter René Magritte directed by award-winning Argentinean choreographer Enrique Cabrera. It forms one third of a trilogy of pieces taking influence from visual artists El Bosco, Magritte and Miró.

The performance was a surreal and energetic display of contemporary dance bursting with quirky imagery, the narrative playing out like a symmetrical dream. The piece began with box-shaped miniature houses piled up in the centre of the stage. Lit up in unison, they were individually taken off the stage by dancers dressed in over-sized jackets. One lonely house remained in the spotlight until a small fluffy cloud appeared. The black backdrop fell and the performance began.

Aracaladanza danced with a multitude of clouds, ranging in size, shape and texture. The clouds weren’t limited to physical props: animated depictions were also projected onto the cloth at the rear of the stage. The excitement of the performance gradually built with costumes, characters and the tactile props becoming more bizarre, exuberant and inspiring as the piece progressed. A mixture of contemporary dance, contact and circus were on display to the attendees.

Clouds treated the audience to a combination of both video and live performance in the same time and space. Duets and group dances were filled with comedy, and some solo pieces displayed a Martha Graham influence.

Highlights included a group of faceless men in suits, dancing in an simplistic manner juxtaposed to a chaotic and playful theme tune, mischievous use of dancers’ shadows and the illusion of plastic rain falling upon the stage.

Despite the energetic pace and creative theme, Clouds left me feeling like the performance was playing it safe overall. I felt that the surreal theme could have been pushed more, and that in trying to appeal to all ages Aracaladanza’s show lacked an edge from an adult’s perspective. That said, overall, Clouds is a wonderful offering of family entertainment and the young audience soaked in every minute of the unusual fun. I recommend you go to the next viewing, it will brighten your day.
 

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Pierre Rigal: Game Over

I hate football. The hype, the overpaid players, the celebrity culture.  The beautiful game? You can keep it. So imagine my surprise when a fifty-five (not ninety) minute dance work managed to capture my attention and retain it for (most of) the duration.  This was Pierre Rigal’s Game Over, or Arrêts de Jeu, a French dance theatre production supported by the UK French Institute.  

Rigal, himself, performs in the piece alongside two fellow Frenchmen, Benoit Canteteau and Itamar Glucksmann, with female presence from tomboy Eléna Borghese.  It’s kick-off and we’re plunged into complete darkness.  As silence fills the air, the senses are temporarily gone and one can’t help but feel uneasy.  Thankfully, we’re quickly reunited with civilisation through the medium of technology on the count of eight ultra-bright rectangles which are suspended from the ceiling.  Well, not exactly.  With the stage still in black-out, it’s the four performers who are moving them, two in each hand, and to the crackle of audio commentary (à la Française with English subtitles) these begin to project the game in question.   

As oafish men, the performers lounge about in front of the telly to catch the match, and oafish men on the pitch too, re-enacting laddish behaviour – pointing, swearing, grimacing, larking about – settling disputes with referee with very little contact with the ball. A somewhat accurate depiction perhaps? Either way, their mannerisms and interaction with each other, are well-timed and believable and have the audience in stitches.  

Rigal deploys the use of slow motion, just like the action replays on screen, to hone in on how the players work together as a sports team. This second-by-second analysis keeps us, the audience, very much in the heart of the action although, having said that, there are moments of uncertainty, for me at least, and gaps form in my understanding of the narrative. Yes, I had read the rather lengthy programme notes prior to the performance and this did indeed help contextualise the piece somewhat – we’re in 1982 apparently, the year of the France vs. West Germany game – but Game Over still functions without this background knowledge. Why, it converted this non-believer, didn’t it?
 

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Daniel Linehan

Zombie Aporia, meaning 'living dead logical contradiction', is the latest work by Brussels-based American choreographer Daniel Linehan. Through the performance of eight short works with enigmatic titles including 'Before now and after' and 'Called nothingsomething', Linehan states his aim is to 'create hybrids, to unite contradictory terms, to merge contrasting rhythms in order to create unusual performative monsters.' Nevertheless, at times I was left wondering what had actually been created through the work or whether this was the performance equivalent of an essay on poststructuralism.

Running through the separate pieces is the unifying theme of distorting and manipulating a key performance aspect to demonstrate how one thing that is perhaps usually considered in isolation is actually wholly dependent on something else for its existence. In the most succesful piece 'Cool', with the sung lyrics being a response to 'Anarchy in the UK' by the Sex Pistols, Salka Ardal Rosengren stands facing the audience with Thibault Lac next to her with his hands around her neck. As she begins to sing, Lac starts to physically manipulate her vocal chords which, naturally, affects the sound of her voice. As the piece develops, the manipulations become greater in force and scope; at times, Rosengren is being swung through whole back swings. At its most comic moment, she is laid across Lac's back while he moves vigorously up and down through a cat stretch and she accordingly bounces on his back, all while still singing.

'Cool' could not have made it any clearer that the sound of the voice is dependent on the movement of the body but its strength lay in that by questioning and experimenting with this concept it added multiple layers to the piece. The distortions in the sound affected the meaning I interpreted of the lyrics themselves which in turn affected the way I interpreted the choreography overall. This piece provided 'spinetingly' moments whereas unfortunately some of the other works, which were all variations on this theme, didn't stimulate me from a choreographic perspective: instead they seemed to be a display of compositional exercises resulting from what would be valid studio exploration but which didn't have the same value in performance.

Although it had very little movement content, 'Before now and after' was the most emotionally engaging work of the evening. The three dancers stood stage right in an intimate tableau. The words Linehan whispered directly to Lac were repeated almost instantly by Lac himself but projected out to the audience while his gaze swept across us. The words themselves played with meaning by changing tense through the sentences and moved through themes including life, family, pain, sex and consciousness while Linehan's and Lac's facial expressions were variously in sympathy with what they were saying and at times contrary. The combination of the work's physical simplicity and subtle dynamic variations combined with its dramatic themes was intriguing. Who were these characters? Was the relish with which Lac spoke his lines genuine or was it a result of Linehan's verbal puppeteering? Was Rosengren's eyes-closed character passively receiving the world around her, or was she another driving pulse of the work but inaudible to us? Of all the works, this is the one which made me want to perform it myself as it felt quietly epic and fleshed out.

Overall, the evening left me with many questions about what I had seen. Was it an evening of choreography or compositional exercises and their logical outcomes? Why, when the themes of the spoken and sung content of the work were variously philosophical and emotional, was I being led to analyse the structure and form of what constituted their production and performance?

As I pondered the show on my way home, with every thought providing a contrary question much in the same way as the structure of each of the pieces, I started to think about the philosophical implications of what I had seen, in that my experience of the tangible reality life must naturally affect my understanding of its abstract aspects. Linehan's choreography showed acutely the fallacy of Cartesian seperation of mind and body, and this I believe is an important point of view which was useful to be reminded of.

You will enjoy this show if you have ever questioned what is the nature of performance or you are interested in understanding the components of choreography.
 

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Ballet Revolución

While the rain hammered down on a grey and dismal evening in London, the Peacock Theatre came alive with the fresh beats of the Ballet With Attitude. Ballet Revolución took the audience back to the roots and traditions of Cuban dance with a celebration of dance and soon had everyone dancing in their seats with wide smiles on their face for the two hours they performed.  

Ballet Revolución is comprised of young versatile talent that has emerged from the two most prestigious Cuban Conservatories. Cleverly choreographed by the multi-talented duo Aaron Cash and Roclan Gonzalez Chavez, it showcases an impressive plethora of dance styles and techniques such as hiphop, street, breakdancing, contemporary, ballet and Cuban traditional dance to name but a few.

From the minute the curtain went up, the atmosphere was electric. There was an eclectic mixture of live music played by the talented musicians including Luis Palacios Galvez, a genius on congas. The music ranged from Ricky Martin’s Livin' la vida loca, Beyonce’s Single Ladies, Usher’s DJ got us falling in love again, Gotan Project and much more.

Every movement was a highlight, from the intricate high jumps, back flips and death-defying lifts to the comedy sections which filled the auditorium with laughter and fun and the pure passion for the movement and music oozing from the dancers.

The biggest highlight for many was the chair dance with two couples which was almost like watching the two styles of contemporary and ballet up against each other: a routine which started with two identical duets, which then continued and illustrated the differences and similarities of movement in the styles used.

Ballet Revolución is definitely a performance to remember, with amazing dancing, singing and tunes. Listen to the audiences with their standing ovations: book tickets now and see this outstanding show.

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Spring Loaded: Goddard Nixon & Jose Agudo

Silence, stillness, a spotlight on one man, Jose Agudo, for a solitary seventeen minutes.   Although this is his first solo venture, Agudo has worked with the likes of Shobana Jeyasingh and Akram Khan, to name but a few, on which note Time/Dropper is very similar to Khan, actually.  Very similar to Khan for the grounded, powerful, striking nature of his being but very unlike him for Agudo’s lyricism, his ability to ooze, to melt like butter.  A moment of breath – catching it, holding it, experiencing it – for Agudo comes as a moment of realisation for the observer.  Exertion for our enjoyment; making the most complex movements/concepts seem so simple which is, indeed, a distortion of time, space, movement, matter.  

This seemingly non-narrative piece manages to depict a raw atmosphere through Agudo’s intensity and integrity as an artist.  He evokes powerful imagery when there is no prescribed imagery to evoke.  Whilst in Fitcher’s Bird, Goddard Nixon, of Rambert Dance Company fame, put their own spin on a well-trodden narrative, that of the Grimm’s fairytale of the same name.  Scattered rose petals, a pinkish hue in the lighting and two bodies – Jonathan Goddard and Gemma Nixon – the former is the sorcerer of the tale who stands upstage, an over-bearing shadow over Nixon’s character, the first of three sisters who he has just killed.  That’s right isn’t it?  There’s a narrative to this piece and if you don’t know the narrative, well, you create your own.  This observer was none the wiser but it didn’t matter, and still doesn’t, because the piece still speaks to you, again because of the intensity, the integrity of the artists.  

Goddard’s sorcerer marks his territory as the dominating character but this is well-matched by Nixon’s portrayal of sisters one, two and three.  She is tenacious, frenetic, on edge one minute and soft, sensual, sleek the next.  As with Agudo, Nixons take up something similar to the foetal position, lying on one side with legs and arms bent.  A symbol of youth, protection, comfort.  There’s also an unmistakable element of fearlessness, a complete surrender to the movement, to the moment.  As endings go, Agudo nailed it with on-the-spot turns and spiralling hand gestures to a stunning fadeout whilst Goddard Nixon concluded with an excess of feathers and flashing strobe lights.  Needless to say, a long spell of dizziness followed.  
 

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Royal Ballet Flanders: Artifact

William Forsythe's Artifact is a work which is rarely performed in its entirety, however I remember seeing Artifact when it was performed by Ballett Frankfurt, William Forsythe's then company, at Sadler's Wells in 2001. In an interview with the Telegraph's Sarah Crompton (link), Royal Ballet Flanders' Artistic Director Kathryn Bennetts talked about how she has delayed staging Artifact until she felt her dancers were ready for it, such is the challenging and complex nature of the work.

In addition to the interview by Sarah Crompton, there is also an excellent factsheet written by Ben Lalague for The Ballet Bag (link) which explains the context and structure of Artifact, while on YouTube there are several poor-quality videos - neither of which prepares the audience for the sheer richness of Artifact, with its huge diversity of structure and choreography. Forsythe always blends abstract dance with theatricality, hence the episodic appearances of Character in Historical Costume and Character with Megaphone, often bickering or chuntering, and heckling a hand appearing from a trapdoor in the stage. The other recurring theme was the role of The Other Person, clad in a dirty white leotard, who leads the ensemble of dancers and directing their movements. While the voiceovers from the two Characters can be distracting - "I know, I said rocks but I meant dust!" is one of the best lines - it's an interesting device, making it all too easy to speculate about traditional ballet characters also being able to vocalise their trains of thought - for example, what would Juliet be thinking when confronted with Paris yet again?

The trailer for Artifact shows a huge cast of identical dancers performing repetitive movements, yet the piece is so much more than that; while the ensemble frames the stage, and sometimes fills it in a relentless procession of dancers, the core of the work is in the duets and group sections, and those provide some of the piece's most heart-stopping moments. While Forsythe's technique is balletic, the movement style is definitively modern - and while repetition does not always work, in Artifact, the effect is hypnotic.

The staging is a significant aspect of the production; in Act 2, the curtain drops repeatedly, creating the effect of excerpts or of a showreel: while the curtain is down, the live violinist almost drowns out the sound of hurrying feet, rising to display the dancers in a completely different formation. After a few minutes, the curtain drops again, rising to show us a completely different section of the work. By the second half, the Character in Historical Costume has shed her historical dress for a corset, and is shouting randomly in German; when the curtain sticks partway, she yells "f**king curtain!!"

The lighting, designed by Forsythe himself, is also extremely striking, not least because lighting design is rarely elaborate in ballet, and thus reinforces the modernity of this work. If you've tried to watch any of the videos on YouTube, you'll have noticed that they're very dimly-lit - and that's because the entire piece is very dimly-lit. The effect implies that the dance is of more significance than the dancers themselves, as the dancers are excluded from being lit; in one section of the first half of Artifact, The Other Person stands behind a square of light, while the ensemble are beyond the light's reach, with only their arms and hands being bathed by weak light. One of the most striking effects is in the second half when the dancers appear in silhouette against the rear of the stage.

The range of movement of Character in Historical Movement, performed by Kate Strong, is very limited, largely restricted to expansive arm movements,  a performance which is very evocative of the supersize characters in NDT2's Sleight of Hand (Lightfoot/Léon) - and the similarities with NDT2 don't end there; it's easy to imagine Royal Ballet Flanders as a grownup NDT2, with a similar cast of brilliantly-gifted dancers, especially Aki Saito, Geneviève Van Quaquebeke, Alain Honorez and Wim Vanlessen. Ultimately, however, Artifact is about the exquisite movement of a large body of dancers - one of the few shows you'll see this year which will make your heart sing.

 

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Spring Loaded: Darren Ellis Dance, Robert Clark

The Place has long been the home of experimental dance and performance art, so it was only fitting that the opening night of Spring Loaded featured experimental works by Darren Ellis Dance and Robert Clark. Both works were shown in their very early stages last summer at The Place as part of the post-Choreodrome showings Touch Wood, and both have benefitted from extensive research and development as part of their choreographic process.

Darren Ellis's Long Walk Home was an exploration of four women at different ages and different stages, ranging from mid-teens to 70, working with Linda Lewcock from Company of Elders; Lauren Potter, formerly of London Contemporary Dance Theatre, Siobhan Davies and DV8; Jo Wenger (ex-Richard Alston Dance Company), and a DanceEast Academy student, Mari Hullet.

The piece sought to explore the hopes of each woman, with information passing through the generations, and so we saw an extended solo by each woman before stepping aside for a younger or older dancer's physical soliloquy. The eloquence of each dancer was enhanced by the improvised feel of each solo, from Linda Lewcock's rocking of a child to Jo Wenger's anxious attempts to hitchhike. While much of the dancers's stories were obscure, their performances were captivating, especially the awkwardness of Lauren Potter's solo and the intensity of Jo Wenger's.

Potter presented a trapped, anxious figure, resembling a broken puppet with disjointed limbs, moving haltingly and hesitantly. Her solo was powerfully reminiscent of Frantic Assembly's Lovesong, in both the movement style and storytelling. The only duet of the evening was between Potter and Wenger, at the start of Wenger's section, which saw Wenger trying to copy Potter's movements, changing them to suit her own style once Potter had stepped out of the light. Wenger was the most compelling of the four dancers, especially in the way she kept her gaze focussed on the audience despite her frantic movements.

All four dancers were accompanied onstage by the astounding Askew Sisters, two women performing folk music on accordion and violin, with amazing vocals by Hazel Askew: beautiful music to accompany a beautiful piece.

Long Walk Home contrasted sharply with Robert Clark's Badlands, which was in theory an awkward love story set in '50s America with cinematic influences. But in the style of experimental dance, and indeed many dance works, what the audience saw was very different, and the lines between dance and movement were blurred. The piece opens with an endearing nervous introduction by Victoria Hoyland (of Van Huynh Company, Hofesh Shechter, Clod Ensemble and James Wilton) followed by a passionate kiss with Jake Ingram-Dodd, after which the two characters disconnect from each other and lose themeselves in their own worlds. He sings Elvis, she sprinkles flour on top of a toy house in lieu of snow, and she wills him to die because "she doesn't love him, they never fell in love". As one of them says at the end, "it's a shit ending."
 

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A Celebration of Bob Lockyer

It's normal to throw a party and to ask for specific presents when reaching a milestone birthday. But Bob Lockyer chose to go that little bit further for his 70th birthday: the presents he requested were new works commissioned by some of his friends - some of the most influential names in dance, and performed over two evenings, raising money for two charities close to his heart: Royal Philharmonic Society Drummond Fund and The Place’s Pioneering Fund. While few may know him by name, his work touched the lives as many in his 40-year career as director and producer of dance programmes for BBC television, and his role in setting up and contributing to the running of many dance organisations including Dance UK.

The advertised programme featured new works by Richard Alston and Mark Baldwin, with additional works commissioned by Wayne McGregor, Monica Mason and Siobhan Davies - a veritable treat for contemporary dance lovers! The result was a celebration of contemporary dance, with the eight bite-sized pieces ranging from five to ten minutes in length.

The evening opened with works from two final-year students: Drone, by Andy Macleman, in his final year at London Contemporary Dance School, followed by Papillon by Seb Golfin, a graduate-year student at the Royal Ballet School.  

The first work, Drone, was one of the most impressive of the evening. Drone was a understated work which used simple movements and gestures to mesmerise the audience. Drone was of an impressively high standard: Andy Macleman is a choreographer to watch out for.

Papillon, commissioned by Royal Ballet's Artistic Director Monica Mason, featured the 2011 winner of the Prix de Lausanne, Mayara Magri. Nevertheless, his duet - about a man trying to distract his girlfriend from her book - felt very generic and while it was pretty to watch, it did not appear to have anything new or original to show. The "park musicians" - Rebecca Herman on cello and Andrew Saunders on piano - were a lovely touch, however.

Mark Baldwin's offering, 'Prayer', was a rare intimate performance for Rambert's dancers, in an abstract work for four women. Prayer was a succession of solos, toying with shifting weight and balance in isolation. As always with Rambert, the dancers are lovely to watch, especially in a work as abstract as Prayer.

The final work of the first half of the programme was The Way It Works Is This..., a work commissioned by Siobhan Davies and choreographed and performed by Charlie Morrissey. Exploring the earliest attempts to record movement photographically by Etienne-Jules Maray, using a stuttering voiceover, Morrissey sought to recreate the early processes and imagery of Maray's works, with frequent blackouts to suggest the capturing of photos.

Rob Binet, a young Canadian dancer, was appointed as a Choreographic Apprentice at the Royal Ballet in January; Lake Maligne, a solo created for Daniela Neuegebauer of Random Dance, showed a very different voice from his work for Draft Works in January, At The River Styx. While conforming to Wayne McGregor's trademark costume of a vest and briefs, the choreographic style was Binet's own, using beautiful, languorous movements, at time enacting the lyrics of the accompanying music. Although McGregor's influence became more pronounced towards the end of the piece, Binet's developing voice is interesting and confident - we hope we'll see much more from him.

Richard Alston was perhaps the most generous friend of them all, presenting not one but two new works, and also reviving an excerpt of Robert Cohan's 1989 work 'In Memory'. Isthmus, the first new piece, was a very playful work, with Alston's dancers endlessly leaping through the air in enthusiastic leaps to offbeat abstract music by Jo Kondo. At only four minutes in length, Isthmus was definitely too short!

Richard Alston Dance Company last performed Robert Cohan's 'In Memory' in last year's Dance Umbrella, and the excerpt performed in this programme worked well, offering the audience a taster of the work without introducing any of the work's more complex themes. In Memory is a phyiscally and technically demanding work for four men, a precursor of the current "boy bands" of contemporary dance, and his creative influence on Richard Alston was clear from stylistic similarities.

It's often rare in contemporary dance to see pieces performed more than once, so it was interesting to revisit In Memory after six months; the highlight of the extract was the passionate duet between Pierre Tapon and Nancy Nerantzi, although In Memory elicited impressive performances from each of the piece's five dancers: Nathan Goodman, James Pett, Liam Riddick, Pierre Tappon and Nancy Nerantzi.

As the final piece of the evening, Alston's Shuffle It Right (excerpt) was a jazzy number, working with radio performances of two of Hoagy Carmichael's earliest songs. With costumes evocative of the '20s, Shuffle It Right showed the company lindy hopping, with a fine duet between Pierre Tappon and Andres de Blust-Mommaerts, however without sufficient momentum from Carmichael's songs, the piece was somewhat halting. But it found its way to a rousing finale - a fitting end to an evening of celebrations.


 

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Eifman Ballet: Onegin

Whatever I expected of Eifman Ballet's Onegin, it certainly didn't include snorts of laughter from the people around me for most of the show, and muffled laughter from elsewhere in the auditorium. Yet once you accept that your neighbours won't let you take the show seriously, you realise that Onegin is brilliantly hilarious - which is much-needed in the Trocks' prolonged absence.

Boris Eifman brings a whole new meaning to "there's something for everyone", with hints of Matthew Bourne, Broadway, Saturday Night Fever, Hofesh Shechter and MTV in the opening two scenes alone, with throwbacks to Grease, Center Stage, Britney Spears, Thriller, Pina Bausch, the '99 film Kick, The Ring and Martha Graham in the rest of Onegin - as well as a surplus of jazz hands.

From the opening scene, there's no doubting the modernity of this production, as we see several LBDs (little black dresses) and pairs of sunglasses among the dancers; rather than working with the original score for Tchaikovsky's Eugene Onegin, Eifman has chosen a medley of Tchaikovsky's greatest hits alongside contemporary rock music by Alexander Sitkovetsky. The effects of the electric guitar sections, combined with Onegin's red and purple clothing, and Oleg Gabyshev's longish hair gives the ballet an unshakeable '80s feel.

Like Eifman's Anna Karenina, the storyline of Onegin has been dramatically simplified, focussing only on the central characters of sisters Olga and Tatyana, their suitors Lensky and Onegin, and Tatyana's husband-to-be The General. Also like Anna Karenina, the storytelling itself is minimal, however unlike Anna Karenina, the choreography has less impact. In fact, the choreography often borders on the ridiculous, for example Onegin's wooing of Tatyana coming to an abrupt end when she finds his hand up her dress, however she responds to his kiss with jazz hands. Later, we see Olga and Lensky frolicking happily while Tatyana, behind them, appears to drown herself on a bench. In the second act, we see Onegin bring out the Martha Graham in Tatyana, while her husband's mere touch makes her break out in an attack of jazz hands. And it's really best not to know what Freud would make of her dream.

Unintentional comedy aside, there are some beautiful dance sequences, predominantly in Onegin's many anguished solos, performed by the truly amazing Oleg Gabyshev, as well as the bromance scenes between him and Lensky, performed by Dmitry Fisher.

While the programme notes state Eifman's intentions to define the Russian soul in Onegin, it's best to appreciate the accidental humour - and you'll end up enjoying it far more than you could have anticipated. Just imagine, if MTV made ballets....

 

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Royal Ballet: Polyphonia, Sweet Violets, Carbon Life

The internet has been abuzz over the past weeks, if not months, about the Royal Ballet's latest triple bill with not one but two world premieres from its hottest talents, Wayne McGregor and Liam Scarlett. While the press has been awash with articles about McGregor's collaborations with Mark Ronson and Graham Pugh, the Royal Ballet's more loyal fans have been bubbling with excitement over Liam Scarlett's foray into narrative ballet. In all of these discussions, little mention has been made of Christopher Wheeldon's Polyphonia, which could be seen as prescient.

As the opening piece, Polyphonia is a neoclassical abstract work for eight dancers, featuring rising star Beatriz Stix-Brunell in an impressive solo. While there are interesting moments and changing moods to reflect each movement of Gyorgi Ligeti's music, it's a piece which is likely to be adored by neoclassical lovers, and dismissed by the rest.


Liam Scarlett's Sweet Violets, about Walter Sickert against the background of the Jack the Ripper murders, is gloriously star-studded, featuring the cream of the Royal Ballet in its first cast: Johann Kobborg as Walter Sickert and Steven McRae as Jack, with Thiago Soares, Federico Bonelli, Alina Cojocaru, Tamara Rojo, Laura Morera and Leanne Cope in additional roles. And there lies the first of Sweet Violet's problems: too many characters, most of them underdeveloped. While Leanne Cope gives a brilliant performance as a terrified whore, she's quickly dispatched and doesn't live beyond the opening scene. Similarly, while Steven McRae is perfectly cast as the sinister Jack, his is a role which could definitely be developed further, allowing Scarlett to explore further the relationship between Jack and Sickert. McRae's Jack could be interpreted as an embodiment of the demon within, and the way he holds up the dying Cojocaru to look at Kobborg's catatonic figure hints at some such link between the two men.

As this is Scarlett's work, of course there is beautiful and unusual choreography, but having watched the mastery of Asphodel Meadows, Sweet Violets is something of a letdown, as the choreography fails to live up to his high standards, and the narrative is woefully in need of editing. Definitely worth seeing, but probably not too many times.


The unexpected hit of the evening was Wayne McGregor's Carbon Life, proving that if you cram enough into a piece, there'll be something for everybody. Most welcome was the relaxation of McGregor's frenetic signature style, despite a brief blip towards the end as though to remind the audience what he's best known for. However, following the success of Royal Opera House's 'Royal Ballet Live', several of the sections felt a little too much like watching warmup exercises from their daily class - amid brilliant performances from all of his dancers, especially Lauren Cuthbertson and Steven McRae.

Live music was probably always going to be the next frontier for McGregor, although it's impossible not to compare the results with the far more superior staging of Hofesh Shechter's gig-within-a-dance-show Political Mother. While the live music factor may have had a significant impact on ticket sales, it didn't have as much artistic impact on the ballet as could be hoped.

The visual aspects of Carbon Life were by far the strongest, initially with a screen reducing the dancers to shadowy indistinct figures, and with their costumes which slowly built up from black briefs for all to outlandish items including bizarre tutus, headgear, wings and boots. But by the end, between the costumes and the squares of lighting, you start to suspect that actually all the blurb about Jung, animus/anima and the collective unconsciousness was just a diversion, and actually Carbon Life is all about chess. And after all, isn't it about time Ninette de Valois's Checkmate had a trendy makeover?

Bring earplugs and, if you're not sitting near the stage, binoculars.

 

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Eifman Ballet: Anna Karenina

There's an ongoing debate about the relevance of programme notes while watching dance. Some feel that you should be able to follow the piece simply from watching it, or create your own interpretation. Eifman Ballet's Anna Karenina is an example of programme notes being essential to understanding the piece, with the synopsis listing each of the scenes depicted.

Anna Karenina is a very dense work. Over at Royal House, in Christopher Wheeldon's Alice, we can see what happens when the choreographer tries to include every detail and nuance, so it's something of a relief that Boris Eifman disposes of most of the text and focusses only on the love triangle between Anna Karenina (Nina Zmievets), her husband Karenin (Oleg Markov) and her lover Count Vronsky (the astounding Oleg Gabyshev). Even her son only appears briefly, including in the prescient opening scene of him sitting in the middle of a circular train track, playing with a toy train.

In a ballet created by a Russian choreographer, based on a novel by a Russian author with a score by a Russian choreographer, passion and melodrama are pretty much guaranteed, and many of the scenes in Anna Karenina attempt to outdo each other in both. We see Anna and Vronksy melt into each other in their first duet; we later see Karenin's anguish at being abandoned, and Anna and Vronsky happily frolicking together in Venice. The high drama of the interactions between the Anna-Karenin-Vronsky trio - with the music lending additional dramatic tension to each of the scenes - are offset by dazzling group sequences which start to overstay their welcome as the ballet progresses.

Eifman's storytelling doesn't quite hit the mark, choosing to show a scene rather than tell a story, with little happening in each scene. But surely we'll be too dazzled by the endless group sections, and the awe-inducing performances by the three lead dancers to notice, or indeed care. And if that isn't enough, then there's the novelty of watching Martha Graham-influenced ballet - just make sure you buy a programme first.

 

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Platform AD

Despite what the Arts Council and other authorities say, there is a definite shortage of contemporary dance platforms in London, which has led to independent platforms such as ourselves, and company-driven platforms such as AD Dance Company's Platform AD. The obvious pitfall of either is when a platform curator's career takes off at exactly the same time that a platform is underway: AD Dance Company's artistic director Holly Noble is currently working with Wayne McGregor, recently premiered her newest work in front of an audience including occasional Culture Secretary Jeremy Hunt, and has recently been appointed the artistic director of English National Ballet's youth company - it must be hard enough to juggle all those roles without making time for platform preparations as well. Consequently, this edition of Platform AD has been woefully underpublicised, resulting in far smaller audiences than normal.

Churches are not natural venues for dance performances - not least because contemporary dance choreographers have a tendency to include a significant amount of floorwork - however Actor's Church looked particularly enchanting, with a haze machine puffing out smoke from the pulpit.

The opening piece, You Remind Me of Someone I Once Knew by CODA Dance was an exceptionally strong work drawing on choreographer Nikki Watson's experiences of watching a close family member suffer from multiple sclerosis. Most of us have probably heard of one or more sufferers of MS; probably one of the most famous sufferers was cello prodigy Jacqueline du Pré, whose life was portrayed in the fictional biopic 'Hilary and Jackie'.

Someone I Once Knew shows the effects of a debilitating illness through the performances by Keren Smail and Georgia Godfrey, both portraying very different characters but both similarly afflicted. There was some very creative partnerwork between the two dancers, displaying their interesting relationship which veered between tender and confrontational. While the storytelling is a little obscure, the choreography accurately reflects the frenetic movements of MS sufferers. Nikki Watson has seamlessly blended physical theatre with contemporary dance and created a beautiful yet powerful piece.


Replica Dance Company's 4:14 was next, telling the story of "travel and love in 1930s New York". In effect, it's two pieces in one: while it contains heartbreakingly beautiful partnerwork, the core duets are at odds with its pedestrian storyline of two people who both miss a train and slowly get to know each other while waiting for the next train to arrive.

Hannily Bendell and Thomas Pickard are very charismatic performers: their vivid personalities engage the audience and make you want to know more about their characters and their journeys.

Maybe Bendell and Pickard will decide to divide 4:14 into two pieces and develop the 30s travel storyline further, and develop the partnerwork into a separate piece in its own right. But until then, it's a very good taster of what Replica Dance Company is capable of - and those duets certainly deserve multiple viewings.


After an interval, the next performance was by Gary Clarke in collaboration with all-male youth dance company Edge FWD, and considering its title "A Beautiful Hell", they indeed portrayed a vivid hell on stage - among many other themes. 'A Beautiful Hell' seemed to be a medley of Edge FWD's works, performing a wide range of theatrical skills, but oddly reminiscent of the hyena episode of Buffy The Vampire Slayer, The Pack, in which the characters maintain their pack mentality, whether laughing hysterically at the audience or brutally attacking one of their own. While it sought to explore the world of the outsider through the medium of a boys' boarding school, the abuse seemed to be unnecessarily brutal and violent.

But while "Joe" was not being beaten up, and while the boys weren't stumbling into the audience, crying, seeking people to hug, they gave an astonishing and hypnotic performance with powerfully dynamic choreography. And if anyone doubts the benefits of youth dance schemes, they only have to watch this piece to witness the amazing talents of Edge FWD's dancers.


After several years of sharing the artistic directorship of Udifydance Company with Chay Burrows, Christopher Reynolds is now the sole director of the company, and with the platform's press releases advertising a piece about the effects of social media, it appeared that Reynolds would be taking the company in a new direction. That was not to be the case; And When We Move is a lengthy abstract work, primarily about creating shapes in space, and exploring Udifydance's signature movement style. Ex-Transitions dancer Mark Farrant immediately stood out: he's the kind of dancer who makes everything pause while you watch him, with a pantherlike movement quality which far outshone Reynolds' and Zack Dennis's performances. The emotional intensity of the piece reached its peak in a duet between Farrant and Reynolds, however to the audience, it appeared as a private conversation between the two where we can only watch but not listen in. And When We Move is not one of Udifydance's more exciting pieces, but it's worth watching to see Mark Farrant's performance.

At odds with the strong contemporary dance content of the evening was a balletic finale from AD Dance Company, performing Memento for the second time (see here for full review of Memento). An obvious problem of choreographing for church performances is a lack of performance space, however Memento benefitted greatly from the deeper space of Actors' Church, and Memento appeared far more polished and confident than at its premiere. In addition, it's far easier to appreciate the dancers' performances without the distraction of a full orchestra directly behind them. Rachel Maybank's performance was exceptionally captivating.

Memento was created in collaboration with composer Jeremy Holland-Smith who created six distinct movements, each inspired by a specific image and the significance each image held for him. While this information enhanced the previous viewing of Memento, its absence made Memento perhaps more abstract than necessary.

Despite the stronger performances tonight, Memento still isn't in the league of works such as FAWN and Ternion - and while we can look forward to the next work, we can also look forward to a different costume!

While it's a mixed bag of an evening, this edition of Platform AD has many strong performances, and many reminders of what we love most about contemporary dance from a range of exciting emerging choreographers.

 

 

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The Most Incredible Thing

It's been a year since The Most Incredible Thing originally premiered at Sadler's Wells, and the current incarnation strives to be a more audience-friendly version than the original, with new scenes, reworked scenes, and half the number of intervals. The result is that it's more of a spectacle, and much easier to follow. But is that really what the piece needed?

The Most Incredible Thing is a spectacle, first and foremost. Featuring a soundtrack by the Pet Shop Boys, it could hardly be anything else, and the lavish, constantly-shifting sets designed by Katrina Lindsay are elaborate to the point of detracting from the storytelling - complete with smoke and (multiple) mirrors.

The story is taken from the Hans Christian Anderson fairytale of the same name, about a grim, soulless country where the king announces a competition offering half his kingdom and his daughter's hand in marriage to the man who can present him with The Most Incredible Thing.

In Javier De Frutos's version, the story takes place in an unidentified Eastern Bloc country where workers are drones, terrorised by Ivan Putrov's menacing overlord, and where only Clemmie Sveaas (the Princess) and Aaron Sillis (Leonardo) dream of being free: one of the best-loved scenes is of Sveaas dancing in her room to the Pet Shop Boys' song 'Baby', with their faces projected on the walls.

Last year, there had been mild criticism of the competition's presenter; this has now been turned into a dancing role, with mixed results, due to its reliance on faux-mime. The competition too has been changed; rather than witnessing several of the hapless contestants, with the judges becoming increasingly inebriated, the focus is now on the candidates' silhouettes behind a screen, which offers more scope for creativity and props, but at the cost of several of the jokes, such as "but it's still a towel!" (This was to a man who had claimed he could turn a towel into a swan by towel-origami).

Originally, the strongest section of the show was the middle section showing the clock's wonders, however the meaning of each wonder was obscure to some - no doubt as our world is already so full of wonders, we've lost sight of the original wonders of the world around us. The explanation of each wonder is now telegraphed to us - Adam, the first wonder, appears wearing blue swimming trunks with 'ADAM' written across the back; Eve, as half of the second wonder, has 'EVE' written across the front of her bikini. Whereas before, dancers would hold large ears and a nose for the senses section, they now hold up signs saying 'NOSE' and 'EAR'. Each of the Seven Deadly Sins wears a number on his/her back, the name of his/her sin on its front, and a beehive on top. And Aaron Sillis has become a participant in each scene, observing and sometimes joining in. While the reworking of this section may have made it easier to understand, much of the fine choreography of this section has been lost.

Despite these unsettling changes - including Aaron Sillis's nerdy glasses, and Ivan Putrov's less virtuosic role - The Most Incredible Thing is still a highly entertaining show, and a great introduction to dance for those watching dance for the first time. There are excellent performances from Aaron Sillis, Clemmie Sveaas and Ivan Putrov and strong performances from the ensemble, especially Yuyu Rau, Diarmaid O'Meara and Edd Mitton. And yet The Incredible Thing could be so much more; the choreography tries too hard to be tame and easy to follow at the expense of potentially being extraordinary.

 

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Jasmin Vardimon, Justitia

After the success of ‘7734’ last year, Israeli-born choreographer, director and performer Jasmin Vardimon brought her company back to Jerwood Dance House in Ipswich on Saturday evening to perform Justitia. Jasmin Vardimon’s performances  have always been based upon interesting, groundbreaking subjects which tug at your heart strings. Justitia is no exception.

Named after the Latin word for ‘Lady Justice’, this 2009 creation takes the audience on a journey that pits us as judge, jury and executioner in the case of ‘Seth Vs Mimi’.

Justitia grabs the audience’s attention from the start with movement from the typist at her desk on the smoke-filled revolving stage. The strong narrative was intriguing from the start and the performance began with the story of how Mimi met her husband Charlie.  A delicate and beautiful duet by the two included a Kazakh rug which eventually became Mimi’s wedding dress.

The masculine but humorous fight dance of Seth and Charlie flying around the stage performing jumps over a sofa had audience members roaring with laughter but glued to the exciting action that Vardimon had created, with help from the eclectic mix of music ranging from the haunting sounds of Yoko Ono to the electronic beats of Aphex Twin.   

The action then jumps forward to Charlie going out to buy beer to further fuel the shenanigans. When he returns home, he discovers Seth lying dead on the floor with the only witness and suspect, Mimi. The performance then abruptly switches tone as Vardimon makes you question whether Mimi might have done the unthinkable.

Mimi’s defence lawyer then takes you through the different sets, perspectives and scenarios that might have occurred. Each is more harrowing than the last, and eventually after a maze of intertwining tales, the performance finally unveils ‘the truth’.

This narrative expresses that one crazy adverse moment in time can lead to a lifetime of regret and guilt, and there were a few red and shocked faces for those of the audience members that weren’t expecting the nudity and scenes of a sexual nature.

Each individual performer was uniquely excellent. With dramatic knee movements, hip-hop freezes, breakdancing and energetic contemporary physical theatre, Justitia was both physically and mentally demanding on the audience and the performers. This was truly a performance that I didn’t want to end.
 

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A D Dance Company: Memento

A D Dance Company, formerly known as Antique Dances, is one of London's small and emerging yet prolific neoclassical dance companies. While having performed at a number of platforms including Cloud Dance Festival, Resolution!, Edinburgh Festival and Glastonbury Festival, the works are predominantly created for churches and small venues such as the King's Head Theatre, and their latest work, Memento, was created in collaboration with the Docklands Sinfonia, with the full orchestra accompanying the piece's premiere at St Anne's Church in Limehouse, Docklands.

Memento is a work in six segments, reflecting each of the six movements created by composer Jeremy Holland-Smith, each inspired by "everyday images" which were printed in the accompanying programme along with an explanation of what each image represented to Holland-Smith. Angular Momentum was a photo of contrails over rooftops; Daydream is described as "a dreamlike fantasy... a feeling of being stagnant as the world rushes past"; Gaudeamus, derived from an 18th century drinking song, has a quasi-Baroque feel.

The opening movement, 'Angular Momentum', saw the company of dancers bathed in a red light, with the dancers appearing trapped in a very tight space, adapting their movements to take up as little space as possible. This changed in the next section, Daydream, with a languorously slow solo from Rachel Maybank. Brett Murray appeared to watch her in wonder, finally approaching to embrace her for a close duet. As dreams never go according to plan, Maybank was ousted by Emma Fisher, who led Murray in a more dramatic and passionate duet.

The changing speeds and moods of each section allowed choreographer Holly Noble to create distinct sections with differing themes, speeds and even movement vocabulary, with some sections more classical than others, and a wide variety of partnerwork between her seven dancers.

It's difficult not to compare Memento to A D Dance Company's previous works, especially as it lacks the polish and finesse of their previous work, FAWN - however this will no doubt change over subsequent performances. The company is unfunded, so of course budgets are very tight, but the existing costumes of tights and skimpy bra-tops for the women do not complement the work as well as could be achieved. There are some lovely sections in Memento, for example each of the men lifting Chandelle Allen in turn during Halcyon, but Holly Noble has become a victim of her own success, and set the bar a little too high with FAWN!

Memento will be performed again at Actor's Church in Covent Garden on 28 - 30 March as part of Platform AD; further details and tickets are available here: www.dance-ground.com/2012/02/ad-dance-company-premiere-new-work.html

 

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