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Richard Alston Dance CompanyMarch 2001 London, Queen Elizabeth Hall by Bruce Marriott |
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Going to see Richard Alston at the QEH is a cultured and above all well-mannered thing I think. The audience is a big mix of types, definitely come to see rather than be seen, the critics are all out in force, other choreographers find reason to drop in, the ambience is pleasant, the seats comfortable. But most of all the music, design, choreography and dancers are all so well-mannered. It’s not the type of show to whip up mass hysteria or incredible stomach-churning passion, rather one comes away quietly glowing and happy about life. The evening opened with last autumn’s new piece, Tremor, to a Shostakovich string quartet played live, and rather well, on stage. Not an easy listen but at times it becomes very lyrical - warm even. Alston choreography - generally - throws the arms into great prominence, sometimes spread wider than wide, at other times all folded and compact and while the look is often bent and angular there is a softness and almost classical ease in the watching. Tremor, though, is often a dark and brooding piece raised higher in a wonderful long duet for Diana Loosmore and Martin Lawrence towards the end. There are feelings of endeavour, sorrow and strife and while the human spirit does not necessarily triumph one does not loose hope altogether. It’s that well-mannered thing. Also well-mannered is the sex in Fever - Alston's latest work. The Baroque music of Monteverdi madrigals is delicious and conjurors chubby cherubs floating around voluptuous couples. This is innocent and playful sensuousness, deepening as relationships play through. At one point all movement stops and there is an image of almost Zen-like simplicity: the floor - shimmering in the lightest of silvery blue moonlight - almost appears as a Japanese pebble garden with the two dancers as the only rocks in it. I love Alston's duets and the way they often pour out across the floor, sometimes entwined, often loosely bound. Fever seemed a perfect counterpoint to the baleful Tremor.
The final work was Alton's 'kick arse' piece Roughcut, to some effervescent Steve Reich. Minimalist music, in this case for Clarinet and Guitar, is not everybody’s cup of tea but I adore it in its own right and good dance merely amplifies that enjoyment. Everything is off balance and busy - but it’s well-mannered again and while the dancers look pushed there is not the exhausting drive you would have got from Twyla Tharp or (cough splutter) Ashley Page. That's just fine and the source of Alston's attraction for me it’s not raw but a thoughtful, rounded and flowing movement that satisfies.
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