© Sven Hagolani 'Under The Radar' reviews more Jess Curtis reviews more Renee Renouf reviews Discuss this review (Open for at least 6 months)

Under The Radar is something else. My sole, previous exposure to Curtis was his 1990 collaboration with Keith Hennessy and Jules Beckman, Ice/Car/Cage; it garnered the trio Isadora Duncan Dance Awards for Set and Choreography. In 2003, The Izzy Committee, as it is called locally, awarded Jess Curtis/Gravity its Company Performance Award for fallen; fallen also received a Fringe First Award in the August 2002 Edinburgh Fringe Festival.

By the millenium Curtis began his European ventures, now maintaining a trans-Atlantic presence with European headquarters in Berlin, and with appearances in France and Italy. From a 2005 collaboration with England's Blue-Eyed soul Dance Company, Under The Radar emerged with its multi-national collaborators via preliminary Berlin performances. CounterPULSE sponsored the production's US premiere.

My overarching impression, beyond astonishment at the skill and variety in the performers, is of the supremely human virtues of accommodation, respect and tenderness. In Dance March's issue used the word grace for the trio executed on Canadian crutches by Claire Cunningham, Ulrike Bedammer and Maria Francesca Scaroni. It followed a passage of initial exposition by Kaz Langley, echoed by Bedammer, Scaroni, Jorg Muller and Jess Curtis. Those in the UK may be familiar with Scotswoman Cunningham's haunting soprano and Langley's amazing movements for one with cerebral palsy. Dan Henry, trained in physical therapy, said Langley's ability to maintain speed with Bodammer's seated echappes was remarkable as was a capacity to lead the other artists in echoes of her floor movements. Cunningham and Langley also participated in aerial work, solicitously guided by Muller and Curtis; the Langley-Muller work was particularly tender.

Muller provided comic relief as someone unable to speak, trying to explain about bass and treble coming together. Muller amplified his sound vocabulary with gesture, using arms, hands and fingers coming closer, according to vocal pitch, introducing a circle maneuver as the forefingers of each hand approached each other. When they touched, Muller announced, "Intermission," to appreciative laughter. His addition of physical movement to non-verbal sound expands on previous virtuoso expositions by the late Ed Mock, and, partly, by Bobby McFerrin; both these artists have limited their incredible skills simply to vocal sounds.
 

Following intermission, Muller juggled three Canadian crutches for our admiration, flipped a cigarette to his mouth over his back and one shoulder; after a try or two he accomplished the same with a lighted match, then gave it to Scaroni to squelch in her mouth.

For me Under The Radar could only have been developed in Berlin, reinforced by Scaroni's Top Hat, striped blouse and duties as a barmaid for the drinks on sale. She and Bodammer, who made her entrance back to the audience in a muffling, frizzy wool overcoat, almost walking on all fours in red heeled pumps, groaning, huffing, opened the second half with comments about the movement style and the condition of the performers. They sounded, as intended, like bored, narcissistic women of leisure, source of income undetermined. With aerial equipment and a nondescript sofa changing locations, Christopher Isherwood's spirit would have approved. Astringency and bite resonated like the word geshlossen, a German word retained from a pre-unification visit to the late DDR. Patent in this synthesis of diverse elements is that geshlossen needs to be applied to a rigid definition of the beautiful, evocative and talented. It also applies only when artists of the calibre in Under The Radar exhibit can enforce and make such a nonconventional viewpoint a reality.

P.S. One passage provides the unrelieved sound of gunfire and other accompanying noises of violence interjected as an all too familiar contrast.