White Oak Reviews

Casually attired in a light grey shirt and black trousers, Baryshnikov has an air of melancholy throughout alternating with brief glimpses of his youthful mischievousess. In the beginning he is seen 'arguing' with Susan Shields, one of the three female soloists in black frocks, who represents a 'wife' figure. There is a comical moment when Shields' hands open suggestively behind her back to beckon Baryshnikov who however reacts with disdain.

Baryshnikov then dances a calmer and more tender duet with another woman, Ruthlyn Salomans. A casual affair perhaps? This is followed unexpectedly by a touching duet for Salomans and the remaining woman, Raquel Aedo - a abrupt shift in emotional resonance and sexual tension. Despite the bare-foot dancing and Morris' modern dance vocabulary, the emotional ambiguities inherent in "The Argument" such as this female pas de deux elevate this work to the realm of classical ballet.

Conflict and harmony are brilliantly juxtaposed, as are intimacy and remoteness. At the end, Baryshnikov dazzles in a bravura solo showing off his still powerful jump, before resuming the argument with the 'wife' figure.

Baryshnikov said in an interview in May with Alastair Macaulay in the 'Financial Times', "In dance, the hardest things are the simplest: walking, standing still."

There is certainly a lot of walking and stillness in a new 18 minute solo entitled "Dance with Three Drums and Flute", choreographed last year for Baryshnikov by the Japanese Kabuki star, Tamasaburo Bando. This was the highlight of the four works in this programme, partly because it fulfilled the audience's expectations of seeing Baryshnikov in a solo. This work seems to me a fascinating exploration of the gradations of rhythmic intensity and the dynamic range of movement. One can clearly see Baryshnikov's steps initiating from an impulse and then gradually subsiding.

To the accompaniment of a Kabuki vocalist, Baryshnikov entered dressed in a black and yellow-skirted Japanese costume. He slowly bowed to us in the manner of a Japanese greeting in the centre of the bare stage, before slowly travelling across the stage in zig-zag patterns. There was a long moment of mesmerising stillness which was capped by a simple tapping of one of his feet, showing off Baryshnikov's unique authoritative stage presence.

In another moment of stillness, with his back facing us his body stance was uprightly noble - a reflection of the state of his inner calm. Pure and yet potent images such as these were most refreshing to the eye, and seemed to re-order our senses.

With Baryshnkov, even simple steps resonated with meaning. He turned his body around in a circle with both legs remaining firmly in place on the same spot. In a variation, he turned his head around 180 degrees, while his body remained motionless. There was also unexpected excitement in the sudden directional changes propelled by both his arms.

The slow steps in the beginning were later contrasted with quick virtuosic steps showing off Baryshnikov's amazing technical prowess at this age of 51. A memorable pose saw him in a 'jete' jump in the air, with his arms forming a posture resembling a Hindu god. Above all, he did an absolutely thrilling series of flat-footed hops travelling forward in a diagonal with the working leg upraised.

This sensational solo should have compensated for Baryhnikov's absence in the two other works of the programme which showcased the other five female members of the company. "Glacial Decoy", a 1979 work of veteran American choreographer Trisha Brown, is performed in total silence, focusing our attention on the fluid dancing of the five soloists. There are four large panels at the back of the stage on which are projected black-and-white slides showing scenes from city life as well as countryside. Dancers constantly enter and exit unpredictably from both wings, which seem to be an enlargement of the stage space.

The fourth and last work was "Two Lies" choreographed in 1996 by Lucy Guerin, an unknown Australian choreographer discovered by Baryshnikov. I interpret the equivocal title to mean two versions of an enacted crime. It is a sinister work, enhanced by brilliant chiaroscuro lighting, compellingly performed by a superb cast on opening night. In the first section, three female dancers swung their arms nonchalantly like robots in solos and various groupings. At the end, a dancer attempted to strangle another, but inexplicably seemed to drop dead herself. The third dancer in the background seemed to be an accomplice, silently witnessing the action.

In the second section, the initial action was varied and developed with a more violent dynamic tone, reflected in the arm movements of the three dancers now wearing darker dresses. The crime at the end was protracted.

It was a night of contrasts that many enjoyed... and some did not.