Basel Ballet on web Cathy Marston Dec00 Diary

Cathy Marston in her Ballet.co December 2000 diary referred warmly to Richard Wherlock for whom she worked when she was a dancer with the Lucerne Ballet and he its Artistic Director. The qualities, to which she warmed, his enthusiastic style of leadership and sense of humour, were immediately obvious when I caught his innovative Sunday morning workshop, "Your Choice", at the Basel Theatre, Switzerland in late October.

Basel Ballet is a 20 strong member company whose dancers come from all over Europe and North America. The previous evening I had seen Wherlock's two new pieces, "Folk-Lore", based on Irish and Jewish threads. That performance and the following day's workshop were well attended. There was a good natured, cheerful atmosphere in the small Linbury-like dance theatre on both occasions, radiating the affectionate bond between the company and its audience.

The rules of the "game" are straightforward. Marked on the bottom of a few seats in the auditorium are either gold or red crosses. The audience is unaware of this when they take their seats, but all is revealed when they are invited to stand at the start of the programme. Those lucky enough to find a gold cross can choose the music, those who have a red cross get to decide who will dance to it. Simple. The dangerously exciting element is that neither Wherlock nor his dancers know to what music he will instantly have to choreograph and for which combination of dancers. The result was an insightful demonstration of the dynamic link between the choreographer's vision and its realisation. An instant Masterclass.

Now that you know the rules, let me set the scene. At first the stage is empty except for a grand piano in the corner. While the audience settled down a young pianist wearing black tie and tails entered and began to play a waltz from Swan Lake. He will later be introduced to us as Marcus, whose deadpan and serious manner throughout acted as a nice foil to Wherlock's effervescence.

The next person to come on could have been mistaken for the caretaker. Armed with a broom, he wandered about the stage aimlessly sweeping little bits of dust. He then left returning with a candelabra for the piano. While Marcus rejected that, he accepted the glass of champagne presented on a silver tray. So are we introduced to Richard Wherlock, master of ceremonies.

The entire company now entered wearing the usual layers of rehearsal clothes. Wherlock explained the rules, introduced each of his dancers who by this time were sitting, lying and stretching at the back of the stage and invited Marcus to tell us what music was on offer. Marcus, like a waiter reciting the day's specials, reeled off a list of classical and romantic composers - Hayden, Bach, Mozart, Scarletti and Satie, with Gershwin thrown in for good measure.

The first gold cross holder picks Bach with the holder of a red cross choosing a boy and a girl. At Wherlock's invitation he picks another girl. Wherlock asks Marcus to play the music. He listens intently and then begins to create. He instructs the dancers using a combination of ballet terms (step - entrechat - pas de bourrée -back) and everyday language. The three are off learning the steps simultaneously with their creation. The piece has a definite 16th century courtliness with a touch of male flirtation. It ends with the boy fluffing an imaginary moustache and the girls their hair before hitting the floor.

Wherlock then throws in a surprise. As he remarks, as with TV cookery shows, he has prepared a "dish" beforehand, and two girls now emerge and perform a completely different dance to the same music.

We move on to another game, and this time it is a little girl who, encouraged by Marcus' stage whispers, chooses a Mozart minuet. Three dancers (one girl and two boys) are chosen, one Spanish, another Italian and the third American. Wherlock again listens to the music, identifying a question and answer sequence. Visualising this piece as "frauenpower", he has the girl in control, and certainly not as impressed with the boys as they are with her. Wherlock amazes as he throws himself about the stage demonstrating what he wants (as he observes wryly he always seems to take the woman's part) including leaping without forewarning on to one of the male dancers to wrap his legs around his waist. He suggests at one point that the woman should "think swan", he instructs her to make "wiggly, wiggly" leg movements when lifted by the two men and for one of the men to end a lift by taking her down "like a boat". The three have problems with the woman's back turn; they can't seem to lift and turn her in the right direction. Wherlock gets so carried away with inventing steps that Marcus begins to worry that the music may not be long enough. Following their performance, Wherlock ends with another sequence he has "cooked" earlier also performed as a duet by two women. Throughout his fingers click like a metronome.

For the third and last game Satie is chosen to be danced by two couples. Wherlock again explains what he wants by dancing the woman's part. He says the performance should have a French influence. (This is Satie after all, he remarks, not to be confused with being a "little salty".) Marcus doesn't seem to know when to start playing so Wherlock takes it into his head to cue him in by placing a finger to his nose. What follows is a hilarious piece of tomfoolery as Wherlock constantly has to attract Marcus' attention to the fact that he is touching his nose.

To finish, Wherlock announces that all three pieces will be performed consecutively as a whole. Whether it is fortuitous or not, the combination of two girls/one boy; two boys/one girl; and two couples does work. (The second group were seen huddled discussing their steps at the side of the stage during the last game and performed their piece including the back flip flawlessly.) But Wherlock is not finished. "Let's see what it will look like danced to more modern music", he suggests. The whole piece instantly becomes funkier and more sexual. It is reminiscent of the device Maurice Bejart used when he choreographed the same steps first to music by Alban Berg and then Elton John.

It might be assumed that Wherlock had some idea of the general composition before he and his dancers walked on stage. But even so, the flow of inspiration and sheer good humour that was a vivid experience of creativity in action. Maybe this type of exercise can only work in a regional theatre, but it would be nice if one of our London companies tried it. It would be even better if they could match the cost of the tickets. In Basel they were only £10 each.