Reviewed by
Bill Stephens
The Sydney
Dance Company can always be relied on to come up with something extraordinary. “Counter Move” consisting of two separate
dance works, “Cacti” and “Lux Tenebris”, each entirely different in mood and
intent, but each demanding astonishing physicality and virtuosity of the
dancers, provides an absorbing and entertaining evening of dance.
"Cacti" - Sydney Dance Company Photo: Peter Grieg |
“Cacti”, created
in 2010 for the Nederlands Dans Theatre to a cleverly fragmented score of
snippets of Haydn, Beethoven and Schubert, played by an onstage quartet, Alexander
Ekman’s delightful thumb nose at dance critics, remains as delightfully prickly
as ever.
Po-faced
dancers, each isolated on their own little dais, work at inventing individual
moves. Ultimately the group dynamic insures that their moves turn out to be the
same as their neighbours. As the string quartet drifts in and out of the
action, each dancer introduces a cactus, which is treated, displayed and
studied as if it were some precious art-work. All the while a patronising
voiceover intones inspirational meanings for what we are watching.
Ripples of
laughter burst continuously from the audience, especially during a sequence
when Charmene Yap and Bernard Knauer perform a complex “meaningful” duet, while
their waspish inner thoughts are broadcast to the audience.
Wickedly
witty, brilliantly danced and hugely entertaining “Cacti” is enhanced by the
clean lines of Ekman’s stage and costume design, and the stunning lighting of
Benjamin Cisterne.
"Lux Tenebris" - Sydney Dance Company Dancers: Nelson Earl, Holly Doyle, Fiona Jopp, David Mack Photo: Peter Grieg |
No less
brilliantly danced, and equally absorbing, is Rafael Bonachela’s newest
creation, “Lux Tenebris” which proves to be a startling departure from what we
have seen previously from this choreographer.
Exploring the
way light and darkness affects our moods and memories, Bonachela has worked closely
with composer, Nick Wales, and designer Benjamin Cisterne to achieve an
extraordinary environment in which disturbing images suggesting group violence
or orgiastic sexuality are glimpsed as tantalising snapshots through ominous
flashing lights.
Lone figures
hurtle through the darkness, sometimes hooking up in rough duets, sometimes
joining shadowy groups in complex couplings. The dancing for both the men and
women is aggressive and muscular, and Bonachela has provided a moment for each
member of the ensemble to shine, but a dazzling solo from Juliet Barton and a luscious
duet performed by the remarkable Charmene Yap, this time teamed with Todd
Sutherland, burn into the memory among images of complex ensemble groupings,
inventive duets and solos, leading to the deeply unsettling climax in which the
entire ensemble begin walking, then slowly and urgently running from, or perhaps
towards, some unspecified danger.
This review published in CITY NEWS digital edition on 20th May 2016