Reviews of ballet, modern dance and other forms, in London and elsewhere.
Shechter’s famous signature style is a kind of three-way collision between Jewish folk dancing, the more classical structures and shapes of ballet, and the sort of dancing to dance music that was popular when I was about 15. It’s also reminiscent of the sort of dancing you maybe saw native Americans doing in some old and probably racist cowboys and ‘Indians’ films.
By excavating the sexual, the uncanny and the confrontational in the fairytale through a visually spectacular and dense aesthetic, Preljocaj creates a landscape of noir romanticism, albeit one that is humorously self-conscious, toying with the dense, excessive romanticism of Mahler’s symphonies that accompany the piece.
Just like sand runs through a time glass, this piece acts as a constant reminder of the inescapable sense of caducity that frustrates every human being. As Cherkaoui and Pagés cling to each other’s bodies, theirs appears to be the ultimate attempt to redeem the transient nature of human beings.
The performance that stood out and made the evening unmissable was the final piece by Benjamin Millepied, ‘Everything doesn’t happen at once’. It released the energy that seemed to have been dormant throughout the evening and finally burst in this climactic performance.
When Eric Underwood lifts Sarah Lamb during a delicate duet, she gently accommodates her basket-shaped body in his curved arms, just like wine poured in a goblet would end up taking the shape of a tulip. An image bound to be memorable as the seal that only dance can put on beauty.
What we see on stage is nothing like Artificial Intelligence, but bodies, pure bodies in never-ending motion. Restless limbs stretch to the brink of their muscular tension, undulating shoulders trace sinuous shapes, marking the space in which the bodies relentlessly conquer their consciousness