© Hugo Glendinning 'Naked' reviews Nunn in reviews Trevitt in reviews recent George Piper Dances reviews more Graham Watts reviews Discuss this review (Open for at least 6 months)

The first Act of ‘Naked’ is set in a minimalist, totally white bedroom, with curtains billowing through open windows. After the interval, this crisp, albino world gives way to a much darker and disrupted environment. Has the white room turned black or perhaps it is still there, beyond the open door? Two separate lighting designers – Paule Constable and regular Maliphant collaborator, Michael Hulls – were commissioned to create the two halves of this stark contrast and, together with Bob Crowley’s L-shaped set design, it is very effective.

‘Naked’ is the first work to be commissioned by Sadler’s Wells as part of Alistair Spalding’s welcome new policy of developing a producing house rather than just a showcase stage. The piece therefore belongs to this place, having been born and raised there, and now being introduced to friends and family through this premiere.

The set, lighting, costumes and video projections during both acts gave the piece a strong and lasting set of visual images, but the movement came out of a mixed bag which is unsurprising given how many people put it together: Nunn and Trevitt taking the main credit whilst acknowledging choreographic collaboration from Russell Maliphant and contributions from the other four dancers. The extent of Maliphant’s involvement is especially intriguing since there are many passages in which his trademark spiralling, rotational movement is clearly discernible and others that bear little resemblance to his work.
 

There was little of lasting impact to come out of the ‘white’ Act which seems to tell the story of a breakdown in one relationship and the early adulterous steps in another but given that there are three couples, it’s hard to judge whether these are separate episodes from a single relationship or three distinct pairings. I have a strong after-impression of the indecisive solo and duet (Monica Zamora, joined by Yvette Halfhide) to Doris Day singing ‘Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps’ but only because it sat as a surprisingly refreshing interlude to the halting, repetitive electronic music of Murcof (Fernando Corona) which sometimes sounded just as if a record were stuck in the groove.

The choreography in Act two builds up a strong momentum through the last fifteen minutes, including a showdown scene between Nunn and Trevitt and a sorrowful solo by Oxana Panchenko to Patsy Cline’s ‘Three cigarettes in an ashtray’, conveying deep feelings of loss and regret, leading ultimately to the final powerful duet between Nunn and Trevitt, the tension heightened by a giant digital clock counting down the last 4 minutes and 28 seconds. It simply had to preface a confrontational and climactic end which duly exploded in the final seconds as the two men catapulted each other across the stage. They have the showman’s knack of knowing how to end.

Despite the ecstatic reception of a very friendly audience, I was left disappointed. It was a dance work that seemed to be still in development with a narrative that asked too many questions of its audience. It should have been one thing or the other and it ended up stuck in a no-man’s land somewhere between Maliphant and the Ballet Boyz.