By: Rosie Sharman-Ward
A figure clad in white lies on a dimly lit stage. From the gloom of the auditorium dark shapes flow on to the stage and surround it. One seems to gently caress the figure and as it awakes, they dance an emotive duet to Eric Whitacre’s haunting music while the other shades fade away as to nothing in the darkness.
This is the beginning of Frontier, the first of the evening’s epic double bill of dance from Canada’s Ballet BC, featuring works by two legendary choreographers, Crystal Pite and Johan Inger. More contemporary dance than ballet, both choreographers suggest rather than prescribe allowing their audience to fill the spaces partly from their own imagination resulting in a deep emotional engagement. There the similarity ends, however, as the two are very different.
Canadian Crystal Pite’s Frontier takes us on a journey into unknowing. An exploration of a tenebrous world of unresolved feelings and questioning. Dancers, rendered anonymous by black costumes that cover even their faces, ebbing and flowing around a series of starkly contrasting white clothed performers. Beautifully woven interactions, sometimes tender, sometimes intimidating, the shadows morph, shapeshifting before our eyes under Tom Visser’s extraordinary lighting which becomes a performer it its own right. The shadow dancers seem to billow around the stage, parting as clouds of smoke before the feet of the white, while Owen Belton’s original soundscape offers an air of paranoia formed by unintelligible whispers amongst the sounds. This is not merely dance, it is a total sensory experience. We question our own senses as shadows loom and dancers succumb to the dimly lit regions of the stage.
I read recently that Crystal Pite has an imaginary post-it on her fridge that says, “Remember, you do not like choreographing” because she finds it such an emotional struggle. I really hope this post-it does what mine do and falls off!
In contrast Johan Inger’s Passing begins with a colourful pair of dancers on a brightly lit stage scattering a large swirl of earth before them. As they meet, they appear to age. A young couple traverse the pattern from opposite directions meeting in the centre to fall noisily in love. Much to the amusement of the audience the young woman, vocally encouraged and supported by her partner, proceeds to equally noisily give birth to the remaining dancers who appear one by one from between her legs. I believe they are 18 in number but I am wincing as well as laughing by this stage and lose count. The company come together in a happy folk dance. We are treated to a range of characters and emotions from children, through lads, young women and elderly couples. There are tears, recriminations and much laughter. A pageant of humanity, immaculately danced for our delight including a fun tap sequence. Set to emotive music by Erik Enocksson and Louis T Hardin, the company dazzle with their dynamic use of space. Seemingly random interactions that hold us enthralled by the brilliance of the spatial awareness of each dancer. The spectacular finale of the piece leaves us breathless at the pace and scope, just wonderful.
Once again Dance Consortium have brought a company to Theatre Royal Plymouth that I have not been privileged to encounter before. Rest assured that if we are lucky enough for Ballet BC to return, I will be first in line to book tickets. What a stunning evening of faultless dance.