The Place - 17th Feburary

What to say about Henrik Kaalund’s ‘4’? Depressingly, not much. . Its four excellent dancers were given little to do except tiptoe slowly and carefully across the lines of four squares painted on the floor as if negotiating a high-wire, or roll, Eurocrash-style, inside the confines of the squares to the accompaniement of an unpleasing electronic score.. Despite the programme notes’ claim that ‘certain specific themes’ were being dealt with, I found it difficult to work out what these themes were. As far as the choreography was concerned, Kaalund ‘s piece only flickered to life briefly when, at one point, all four dancers performed one perfectly synchronised floor-bound movement, a tantalising promise of what might have been. It was too little, too late, though.

Company Decalage’s ‘See’ was intermittently thrilling, if somewhat too long. Choreographed by one of its dancers, Mickael Riviere, and accompanied by a rhythmic percussive score, the piece was hip-hop influenced, opening with an impressive head-spin by one of the three male dancers . The thrust of ‘See’ was ecological , as the outstanding spoken rap poetry by Maxwell Golden made clear – I found the rhythmic delivery and the brilliant use of words here irresistible and wished I could have seen them written down. Riviere’s inventive choreography burst with energy but was somewhat disconnected – the four dancers, three male and one female, danced separate , spinning, rolling and jumping‘numbers’ and rarely came together. Nevertheless, it was enjoyably strong beer compared to the weak tea of the preceding offering.

And if ‘See’ was strong beer, then Darren Ellis Dance’s ‘Romeo Error’ was a deliciously dry martini. It dealt with the terrifying possibility of being buried alive (the odds are ‘higher than you might think’ the programme notes warn). A portly chap (Rick Bland, I assume) intones his worries about the possibility of being put beneath the sod prematurely, while two dancers, Darren Ellis and Pari Naderi, dance blithely and lithely on his grave, even as the first spadefuls of earth cover his coffin and muffle his shouted protestations. The programme notes give no hint as to what inspired this piece - the title might be a clue, but you'd have to work on it. Whatever it was actually rather witty and made a satisfying end to the evening (though it left me wishing they’d hurry up and invent a mobile ‘phone capable of working underground - six feet underground, to be exact…).