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Rambert Dance Company 'The Art of Touch,' 'RainForest' and 'A Linha Curva'
May 25, 2010 -- Sadler's Wells Theatre, London Every so often you come across a piece of contemporary dance that is so beautiful, so at one with the music and everything around it, that you just can’t take your eyes off the stage. The lucky Sadler’s Wells audience got two such gems on Rambert’s latest London programme. Siobhan Davies’ 1995 classic “The Art of Touch” considers the different ways dancers touch the floor with their feet, touch each other and the space with their limbs and, most of all, make contact with the music with their dance. Part play, part conversation, always thoughtful, it is an utterly beguiling composition the like of which is rarely seen from contemporary choreographers today who seem to prefer the loud, instant, in your face approach. Against David Buckland’s burnished copper coloured set, mysteriously lit by Ian Beswick, the dancers perfectly embodied the sounds of Carole Cerasi’s playing of Matteo Fargion’s juxtaposition of Scarlatti harpsichord sonatas with his own gentler compositions. The cast of seven embodied perfectly the different emotions in the music. At times they even seemed to be plucking the notes out of the air with their bodies. There was so much detail, so much complex choreography, so much to watch, especially in a delicate adagio danced by Angela Towler and Jonathan Goddard, and a supremely expressive solo by the outstanding Pieter Symonds. Class was just as equally written through Merce Cunningham’s “RainForest”. It may be over 40 years old, but this 1968 work remains utterly mesmerising. As ever with Cunningham there is no literal depiction of the setting. Instead the dancers are presented against and amongst Andy Warhol’s silver helium-filled pillows that float around the stage as if engaged in their own weird abstract ballet. With the dancers as light as a feather too, it seems like gravity, perhaps even reality, has suddenly been suspended. It all makes you wonder if someone dropped something in your intermission drink.
Rambert Artistic Director Mark Baldwin was certainly spot on when describing the programme as one of contrasts. If “The Art of Touch” and “RainForest” are classic dishes from the high table of choreography, perfectly seasoned and served with grace and delicacy, Itzik Galili’s “A Linha Curva” is definitely McDonald’s fare. Not that there is anything wrong with the occasional Big Mac and shake - and boy did the dancers shake - I just wouldn’t want to feast on it all the time. “A Linha Curva” is all very tribal. Originally made for the Balét de Gdade de Sao Paulo, it certainly has the infectious energy of Brazilian carnival or beach life. In their colourful lycra shorts and mesh tops the cast of 28, so big that the company had to call on students from the Rambert School to make up the numbers, yell, stomp, show off and fool around to their utmost. They rush in and out like waves crashing and receding on a Brazilian beach. This was all accompanied by four percussionists perched on a raised platform above the action. They played Dutch composer Percossa’s score with great verve, their drumming, singing, chanting and body percussion perfectly synchronised with the light and action below.
Rambert Dance Company’s autumn tour takes them to Salford, Llandudno, High Wycombe, Norwich, Bath, Stoke, London and Plymouth. See www.rambert.org.uk for details.
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by David Mead
The drug induced atmosphere was added to by David Tudor’s soundscape of assorted humming, rustling trees and tropical sounding bird calls, roars and hums. In their torn, nude-look torn unitards the dancers come and go. They cuddle, touch, meet and part. The unexpected becomes the norm. Relationships form and break without warning. It is all classic Cunningham choreography, with a superb display of classic Cunningham technique to match. Even the pillows join in, forever doing the unexpected. Occasionally one is kicked by a dancer. Sometimes, as on this occasion, one settles right downstage slightly obscuring the view. It all adds a chance element, making every show different.
The audience lapped it up. The youngsters whooped and hollered with the dancers. Mind you, that seems to happen so often these days it has stopped being any indication of quality. Examine Galili’s choreography carefully and there is not much more there than an awful lot of repetitive pelvis thrusting, hip wiggling and bum shaking. For the 20 minutes it lasts it is fun, but by I am not sure I wanted any more, and I have grave doubts the work would stand up to repeated viewings.