The British mime and dance artist, who celebrated his 77th birthday this month, will be the subject of a new feature-length documentary. Continue Reading
Whitley, whose Frames opened the evening, is a pretty successful young choreographer… There’s no doubt he can come up with exciting movement, but there’s also no doubt he needs refining before he really makes the big time.
With the revival of Lucinda Child’s Four Elements, you wonder why the American dance maker is so little seen in the UK. Made for Rambert in 1990, Elements is a mesmerising piece of modern classicism that evokes water, earth, air and fire without conspicuously portraying them.
It’s only in the long middle section evoking the miners’ embattled history that Dark Arteries realises its potential – and does so magnificently, in churning, seething ensembles of dance, shot through with heart-racingly combative virtuosity.
Where Dark Arteries aims for imposing and misses, Alexander Whitley’s Frames just looks aimless.
While this was far from being among my favourite Rambert programmes, I continue to admire the company’s remarkable dancers and applaud Mark Baldwin for his bold, commissioning policies... Continue Reading
Wayne McGregor’s new Woolf Works glows with ambition, crowned by Alessandra Ferri’s charismatic central performance.
The movement is more classical and more lyrical than the twisted extremes McGregor is known for, but the bodies are still in constant motion, exactly like Woolf’s stream-of-consciousness prose.
As the stage becomes a riot of colour and swirling movement, I found myself wishing, as with last year’s tango show Dance ’Til Dawn, that the creators had offered us pure spectacle and ditched the narrative framework.
For me, the two contemporary dancers were best in their own solos, which showcased Scott’s whiplash fearlessness and Jacob O’Connell’s rangy technique and commanding presence; but they were under-served by the somewhat aimless choreography of their new solos.
Woolf Works is not a perfect ballet… But in the depth and the scope of its ambitions, and in its haunting meditations on memory, madness and time, it takes both McGregor – and the concept of the three-act ballet – to a brave and entirely exhilarating new place.
Throughout Monday’s opening night, the stellar cast – which also included Natalia Osipova as Orlando and Steven McRae as someone-or-other – danced with uniform brilliance.
Reducing Steven McRae and Natalia Osipova to their bendiness is a criminal waste: what about their musical intelligence, their dramatic power, to say nothing of their elite training in the absurdly difficult art form of classical ballet?