Configured for the vast auditorium of the Royal Albert Hall, it features no fewer than 60 swans. When they make their first entrance, wave after wave of them, it’s awesome. To see them move and breathe as one is also profoundly touching.
Director Drew McOnie is a musical theatre whizz, and this is his first major show for his own company. A clever choreographer of unstoppable energy, his dance is full of wit, zip and zest, and a lot of leg.
Obsidian Tear is full of jumps and curves and classical poise, its all-male cast moving with muscular fluidity, like balletic samurai, to the swell and retreat of Esa-Pekka Salonen’s score.
The Barbican concert hall was packed with a largely Slovakian, hugely appreciative crowd for what was, at times, a bewilderingly energetic display of folk fantasia... Continue Reading
McOnie’s choreography is fizzing and lively, with Jerome Robbins’-style ensembles set to a musical mish-mash of styles from composer Grant Olding.
Christopher Wheeldon’s Within The Golden Hour continues to delight with its melting back screen, colours bleeding into one another as the dancers form gorgeous whorls and fluid diagrams in an abstract ballet of uplifting, bucolic beauty, all culminating in an organ…
Fearghus Ó Conchúir’s commission for Ireland 2016 Centenary programme ART:2016 and 14 – 18 NOW, the UK’s arts programme for the centenary of WW1 is an imaginative reflection... Continue Reading
Over the next ten days (13 – 23 June) a full-scale replica of the façade of the Laban Building will be constructed & deconstructed in Canary Wharf’s Montgomery Square, with performances by… Continue Reading
McOnie swaps between two dancers, from the fast, flexible Collins to the beefier Tim Hodges, all macho strut and aggressive stance. The flip from one to the other is enjoyably staged: lightning strikes in the shower, or in the shadows.
. . . an immersive, promenade, multi-part and multi-room dance show with installations created by some of the biggest behind-the-scenes talents in dance – but with, as its title suggests, not a single live-performing dancer.
This is fearless and brilliant choreography, fearlessly and brilliantly danced, and Hayward’s final, faltering steps towards a damaged future are almost unbearable.
With its emotive subtext and restrained but telling choreography, this is a breakthrough work for McGregor. Uzma Hameed is credited as dramaturg, as she was on Woolf Works; the collaboration is clearly a happy one.