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Compania Nacional de DanzaApril 2002 Geneva, Batiment des Forces Motrices by Rachael Jefferson-Buchanan |
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Rassemblement The three-part performance began with the work entitled “Rassemblement” (“Coming Together”), which originally premiered in 1990. A calm solo danced to slave songs from the Voodoo cult developed into a poignant lament. Angular elbows contrasted with long flowing skirts, and as other women joined the first, their movements gained strength and focus through their sense of community. There was much repetition, which began to slow my racing thoughts. The loose, languid Duato style quickly manifested itself: torsos stooped, dropped, and then long limb extensions were followed by the pattering of nimble feet. I was reminded of the female peasants in Bruce’s “Ghost Dances”, and enjoyed the energy and sway of the ‘workers’. At times, the dancers ran past one another and then collapsed to the floor in rhythmical unison. Solos pulled out of the group, and as they all wistfully left the stage, a male solo began. The sounds of birds, insects and water evoked the ambience and sticky heat of summer nights in Haiti. When the high shaft of light broke through the gloom, shadows were cast onto the sparse set design. Two prison guards beat the male soloist into submission, and then the sobs of grieving women ensued. Politics abounded - this was a piece that explored the daily life of the slaves, including their resistance against colonial rule. “Liberté” was repeated throughout the song, and the hypnotic African drum beats seemed to reinforce the slave’s longing for Africa; the land of their mythical freedom. Duato’s style is intriguing, indeed it is a delightful blend of modern ballet and contemporary dance, with a distinct Spanish ‘flavour’. A wide-legged plié was accompanied by angular arms, rolling hips, swirling skirts and dramatic lifts in pairs. A tender pas de deux developed out of the ensemble. Covering each other’s eyes and faces, they caressed one another intimately, and the male prisoner’s distress was momentarily eased. There was an endless flow of unison, with the group moving together as one, and then again as individuals. It was certainly a ‘coming together’, not only of the dancers, but also of the staging aspects. The whole combined to form an intensely emotional ‘rassemblement’.
Without Words The importance of the movement was emphasised by the dancers’ simple grey attire. There was a complex interweaving of limbs and weight-bearing. Women were lifted high in strikingly aesthetic poses, similar to some of the pair work in figure skating. Fleeting exquisite shapes from the pas de deux were heralded by the projected photos. This was rather like watching ever-increasing ripples in a pond, and reinforced the fluid and seamless nature of the work. Dancers merged and converged as the black and white photographs faded in and out of view, lulling the audience into a hypnotic stupor. The music’s central themes of love and death seemed to be investigated through the dancing. There were, for example, balletic lifts (to heaven?), mutual supports, and hands smoothing furrowed brows. However, Duato himself claimed that there were no deep meanings in the piece, and that it instead explored the idea of two people dancing together to his chosen music. The final tableau - a spotlight focusing on a lone male in dreamy slumber - was a fitting conclusion indeed to a work that began with such gentle and melancholic qualities.
Por Vos Muero :
Three females were left on the stage as the group retreated. With delicate twirls of their wrists and necks, a feeling of ceremonial lightness was created. The twirling motif was transferred to the lower body, and I was suddenly reminded of another of Bruce’s works, in particular, certain courtly gestures from “Lady Jane” in “Rooster”. When the men re-entered, their leg movements (so visible in tights) contrasted with the women’s long swishing skirts. It was a picture of vivid moving sculptures.
An element of comedy was introduced when a male duet became playful, and the audience duly giggled. As a blue-green wash permeated the stage, a sextet emerged with face masks held on sticks. These props added an interesting dimension to the piece, and extended the dancers’ aesthetic lines when they raised them at arms’ length to form shapes. Symbols from the Catholic service of Benediction were effectively portrayed when the men entered in dark purple robes, bearing authentic thuribles. The circular, sweeping gestures of their arms and legs, and the manner in which they circumnavigated the stage, complemented the rotational swing of these props.
The group lines returned, and it seemed as if the audience were being taken on a journey through the history of European court dance. This time, a closely linked duo met in the centre performing lifts and turns. The ballet was evidently drawing to a close, since a rondo form was becoming evident. The pas de deux from the beginning of the dance moved back to centre. A more classical vocabulary (particularly in terms of the supports used) began to slow the pace and provide a logical conclusion to this ‘historical’ piece. As the duet faded, smaller groups were asymmetrically placed on stage, and the work finished with the female soloist dancing alongside a modern dancer and then eventually a dancer from her own historical context. Everything returned to its rightful place.
Conclusion |
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