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![]() October 2002 London, Queen Elizabeth Hall by Lynette Halewood |
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Dance Umbrella brought us some French visitors this week in an eclectic mixed bill at the Queen Elizabeth Hall. Ballet de Lorraine, despite the name, inhabit a space somewhere between a contemporary dance and a ballet company. They aren’t particularly well known here, and the audience was not large, which was a pity, since they seemed a likeable company presenting an interesting range of work. The programme included works by Merce Cunningham, Mathilde Monnier and Karole Armitage. The Cunningham work, Duets, opened the programme, and it was quite a surprise in a number of ways. There’s no date of composition given, but this looks much more warm and engaging than Cunningham’s later works as recently presented here by his company. Cunningham’s use of computer generated dance moves from the Lifeforms programme seem to have increased the coolness and distance in his work and sometimes its angularity (the backwards falls in his most recent work shown here, Fluid Canvas, may have looked great on screen but translated to flesh looked sometimes ungainly). Duets looks as if it was created directly on the human form. It is a series of seven duets, occasionally with fleeting interruptions from other couples. In form it looked much closer to ballet in terms of its supported turns and balances than other Cunningham works. This was emphasised by the classical style of dancing. It is rather odd to see Cunningham danced with lots of turnout – other companies who have taken on Cunningham’s works such as Rambert don’t approach it quite like this. It was unexpected but pleasing: Duets has a very formal construction, and the approach seemed to serve the work well. The Cage music was very gentle fluttering beats. Mama, Monday, Sunday or Always was the title of the second piece, made by Mathilde Monnier and Jean Francois Duroure. The set consisted of four lights defining a performing area for two couples. Men and women begin identically dressed in long white frothy shirts with big baggy jackets over tighter dark ones. Gradually, layers of clothes are discarded, and gender distinctions, which were earlier played down with the identically dressed dancers performing very similar moves, become more apparent. Finally the women end up as some kind of distant descendent of Giselle in a white leotard and veil, grappling with the opposite sex. It was quirkily entertaining with some well chosen recorded music (Kurt Weil) which underscored a mood of rather self-mocking drama. In terms of dance vocabulary this was the most ‘dance’ item on the programme with no trace of ballet classicism about it.
Le Chat de Schrodinger (Schrodinger's Cat) was Karole Armitage’s contribution to finish the evening, a work for 24 dancers all dressed in the same brief black outfits, with most wearing a black veil which completely covered the face – rather sinister and confrontational, and most of the work was distinctly edgy and aggressive. The women wore pointe shoes and the influence of Forsythe in terms of speed, ultra high extensions and aggression was notable. There were two pleasing duets where the dancers escaped from their masks and demonstrated a slightly softer style, though still with a ‘who are you looking at ?’ coolness to it. The dancers were a hard working bunch – a shame the programme told us so little about them.
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