Category Archives: Dance

Review – Giselle, Moscow City Ballet, Royal and Derngate, 12th January 2015

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The Moscow City Ballet regularly tour in the UK – in fact I don’t think they ever go anywhere near Mother Russia – and this is the third time we’ve seen them at the Royal and Derngate. They normally perform two ballets in the same week – this week they’re doing Swan Lake and Giselle. Having seen some pretty ropey classical ballet here in Northampton on occasions, the Moscow City Ballet is more or less the only company currently touring where you can have absolute confidence that they will do justice to a big show with technical excellence. It’s entertainment on a grand scale. Whilst the sets are more practical than elaborate (to be honest the Big Bad Wolf could blow them down with a small sneeze), and the props have an element of fancy-dress shop about them, no expense is spared on the lavish costumes, so it all looks lush and plush. It’s a large company, so a big stage like the Derngate is a good match for a corps de ballet of 18 ballerinas, let alone their male suitors; and the performances benefit from a gutsy live performance by a full orchestra, under the baton of Igor Shavruk.

Few things are more elegant, refined, and, let’s face it, anachronistic, than the whole culture of Russian Classical Ballet. Don’t get me wrong – I love it. I love everything about it; may it never cease. The skill, the artistry, the music, the Petipa-style choreography; but above all, the amusing little conventions. Ever since we first saw the Trocks, I cannot help but smile at all the tell-tale rituals that form part of a classical ballet performance. I love how a dancer will do a solo and then stop the flow of the performance to come back on for a round of applause. I love how the story-telling aspects of any ballet will inevitably include asking whether someone is married by pointing at their ring finger. I love how a “no” is indicated by a frown and two arms crossing each other outwards. And I love how the guys hanging around the edges of the stage floatily wave their arms in recognition and admiration whenever a more senior dancer gets anywhere near them. Wouldn’t it be great to adopt that practice in the office? Stand by the photocopier and whenever anyone wants to use it, wave magnanimously at them. When you’re asked if you want sugar in your coffee, frown and cross your arms outwards. I think this could have legs.

Mrs Chrisparkle and I have seen Giselle once before, performed by the Birmingham Royal Ballet, probably at least ten years ago, but I’d forgotten the story and structure. It’s definitely a game of two halves, with the first act being the story of how innocent, delicate, feeble of health Giselle is wooed by Duke Albrecht, thinking he is but a mere peasant boy; but also pursued by a gamekeeper called Hilarion. She falls for Albrecht but when she discovers He Is Not Who He Appears To Be, she loses her mind, has a heart-attack and dies. Limited scope for humour here. In the second act, we visit Giselle’s grave, where Hilarion mourns her death but he gets a dose of the Wilis (that’s the spirits of women jilted at the altar, if you were in doubt), who have a tendency to dance men to death in an act of choreographic revenge. That’s precisely what happens to the hapless Hilarion, but when they turn on Albrecht, also mourning at the grave, he gets an inner strength because the spirit of Giselle forgives him; thus he dances his way out of danger, and her spirit is released from the hold of the Wilis. And they all die happily ever after, you might say.

In the same way that you don’t go to Shakespeare for the madrigals, you don’t really go to the ballet for the story. You go to admire the beautiful dancing, the emotions, the pointe work, the angles, the stamina, the precision, the speed, the stillness, the balance… you get the picture. I really enjoyed their Don Quixote last year, but I would say the overall quality of the performance in this year’s Giselle is even better.

Any production of Giselle relies heavily on an excellent performance from the dancer playing that lead role, and on Monday night’s performance, Liliya Orekhova was outstanding. Innocence personified, incredibly elegant, she created beautiful clear lines, performed remarkable solos and made it all look effortless. But Mrs C and I were both also really impressed with Ekaterina Tokareva as Myrtha, Queen of the Wilis, who absolutely commanded the entire second act with her amazing pointe work, and incredible stage presence.

Talgat Kozhabaev gave a really top quality performance as Albrecht, full of power and accuracy, tempered with grace and personality. He and Miss Orekhova are perfectly matched and their pas de deux were always impressively controlled whilst still full of life and emotion. I was also impressed with Artem Minakov’s performance as Hilarion, especially in the second act when his “death dance” was really stunning. In the first act pas de deux we thought Andrei Zhuravlev gave a great performance, even if his white tights made it look as though his legs had been tippexed all over. However, we did feel that Miss Yuliya Zhuravleva was perhaps a little under-warmed-up; not quite a pas de don’t, but rather tentative at times. Nevertheless, when she returned as one of the Wilis, she performed with incredible grace, strength and elegance. The corps de ballet were on great form throughout, and the overall effect of their work together and the images they created in the second act were magnificent.

As always, a very rewarding and exhilarating night of classical dance. You can’t go wrong with this really reliable company. They’re touring until April, and I’d thoroughly recommend them.

PS. Stop Press – Coming Very Soon – The Fifth Annual Chrisparkle Awards!

Review – John, DV8, Lyttelton Theatre, Royal National Theatre, screened at Errol Flynn Filmhouse, Northampton through the NT Live process, 9th December 2014

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This was our very first foray into the world of live theatre screened direct to your local cinema. I’d heard both good and bad things about this form of presentation; that it’s just like being there in real life and that the camera angles are amazing; and I’d also heard that you just sit there and sigh “I wish I could be there in person”. Having experienced it first hand, on the whole I’d agree with the first statement. The camera angles are indeed amazing, and you get an excellent combination of both close-up and the wider full stage view; and because you hear the audience’s reactions and indeed see the audience settling down at the beginning, and leaving at the end, you really do get a sense of being there. And of course, all this for half the price of the train fare to get to London in the first place. The only mental sideswipe I experienced was at the end not being able to join in with the London audience’s applause – that really did emphasise the fact that you weren’t there. But, as like as not, if you hadn’t seen the NT Live coverage, you probably wouldn’t have seen the show either. So I classify the whole enterprise as A Very Good Thing. And also, presumably, someone somewhere has a nice recording of the performance so that it can be kept for all time.

We’d seen DV8 once before, at the Wycombe Swan in 1997, performing Bound To Please, a curate’s egg of a show that took on the subject of age and beauty, with the bold highlight of the evening being the sexagenarian Diana Payne-Myers, elegantly and gracefully dancing naked in full balletic style. But the piece was hampered by a rather ham-fisted desire to turn against and humiliate the audience which wasn’t really necessary. We also saw their television film The Cost of Living, which I remember being rather entertaining and very positive. Although much of those shows is now a distant memory, I am convinced that John is a far superior work to either of them.

Lloyd Newson’s initial creative idea was to interview a number of men about their attitudes to sex and love, and to see what themes emerged as a result. What emerged was the remarkable character of John, his story, his relationships, his struggles. About half a dozen of the people interviewed are represented in this piece, but John is by far the most predominant. As this is a verbatim production – nice new buzzword there – all the lines spoken by the performers are precisely as John and the other men spoke them at the interview. As a result, it’s a 100% true production. The issues raised, the events experienced, the hopes and fears discussed are all real, identified and probed during the interviewing process. This gives the production an unbeatable integrity, acting out real lives through physical theatre, paying homage to genuine experiences and real people.

If you are one of those lovely folks who checks into my blog on a regular basis, gentle reader, then you will know my mantra that I much prefer to see a brave failure than a lazy success. I love to be shocked and challenged in the theatre – and if Quentin Letts considers this as sleazy, amoral and a national disgrace, that’s all the incentive I would need to go and see it. John is full of bold and brave subject matter, and takes it head on in a no-holds-barred exposé – and overall the production is much more a success than a failure.Much has been made of the extended sequence of the comings and goings in a gay sauna, which of course will not be to everyone’s taste, but personally I rarely have a problem with seeing anything sexual on stage, and am much more likely to be offended by violence. There’s quite a bit of that in the first half of the show, as we see John’s early family life, which is damaged by a rapist of a father, a drug dependent mother and siblings in and out of trouble. John takes us on a journey of petty crime, drug addiction, and through a sea of girlfriends – very cleverly suggested by their dresses on hangers – eventually to prison and then an attempt at rehabilitation. His efforts to trace his long-lost son are beautifully told, and end with heart-breaking sadness. This whole sequence was storytelling by dance and physical theatre at its finest.

And then it very much becomes a game of two halves as the scene changes to the gay sauna in an instant, with no preparation for it, and nothing in the earlier material to suggest something like this might be on the cards. It’s just a very sudden change of scenery, emphasis, characterisation and subject matter. At first I found the change rather annoying, as I still felt I wanted to find out more about the John whose character had been built up so effectively by his own words and Hannes Langolf’s magnificent performance; then I found it intriguing to see if the extraordinary juxtaposition between the two threads would work; and then after a while I wanted to go back to the beginning again, as the length of the sauna sequence is simply out of balance with the rest of the performance. The first half of the show reflects John’s first thirty-plus years; in the second half John admits he’s only been to the sauna three times over a period of about six months, so the time spent observing the sauna activities carries an inordinate weight in comparison to the time spent accompanying John through his struggles.

There is a loss of momentum too, as John plays a much smaller part in the second half than in the first – presumably this is where the other voices who were interviewed get to play their part in the proceedings. Nevertheless, it was interesting to hear the day to day activities and concerns of the guys who run the sauna – including their constant battle with the evil and ubiquitous poo, which provided unexpected comic relief; and the sexual proclivities of the teacher were rather amusing – if extremely irresponsible and unwise. But you can’t overcome the fact that the sauna scene has a distinct Lack Of John about it. Nothing against the performers who took a more major part in that scene – it’s just that we’d built up a relationship with John and it was left mid-air. But then, such is the challenge of a DV8 piece – never expect it to comply with the norm.

It’s a really strong production. I loved the revolving stage, so that, in order to remain in full view of the audience, John has to keep pacing through doors and in and out of rooms, providing a visual metaphor of his progress through the stages and locations of his life. The combination of John’s speeches and the dance movement serves to emphasise both; staccato movements accentuating tough words, flowing intimate movements accompanying more personal and private moments. Hannes Langolf has a lot of words to say as John, and it is a testament to his personal fitness that his energy keeps high throughout the whole show, his accurate and demanding dance movements never losing power as his verbal dexterity continues to deliver John’s thoughts and experiences. We really feel as though we know John, and despite (maybe because of) his demons and his struggles, we really like him. Mr Langolf creates a real man out of this interview material.

Lloyd Newson’s choreography has his performers depicting everything from the Neanderthal to the sophisticated and they do him proud. Whilst Mr Langolf is extraordinary in his physical presence, the rest of the cast also form an incredibly good ensemble. Ian Garside provides some memorable moments as John’s son and, along with Taylor Benjamin, as one of the sauna owners. Simple devices, such as the seamless removal of a t-shirt worn by one dancer and on to another give hints of intimacy; whilst the rapid undressing and dressing and undressing again and dressing again by various performers in the background whilst the sauna owners talked about their problems gave the impression of a constantly active and busy changing room, without having a large cast. The dance action/physical theatre is constantly engrossing throughout the performance, and even when the narrative itself loses strength, you always admire the skilful and creative movements of the performers.

If you’re a fan of physical theatre and you like to be challenged this is an excellent production which will give you much to think about and admire, capturing the essence of an unknown person and doing him justice. Technically superb performances are the icing on the cake. To Quentin Letts I say grow up and get real. To be honest, unless you’re straight and you’ve never been confronted with intimate homosexual behaviour, you’re unlikely to be too surprised by anything you see. Years of attending Eurovision discos means Mrs Chrisparkle and I are old hands at that! And I did get an insight into how a couple of gay friends, who met at a sauna, might have started their long-lasting relationship. No names no pack drill! It’s not a perfect show by any means but its positives more than outweigh its negatives and I’d definitely recommend it.

Production photos are by Laurent Philippe, Gergoe Nagy, Kris Rozental and Hugo Glendinning.

Here’s a trailer that gives you a good idea of the show.

Review – Richard Alston Dance Company, Derngate, Northampton, 30th September 2014

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I firmly believe that dance, when done well, is the most eloquent form of art that can exist on a stage. It’s also the case that when it’s done poorly, it can be one of the most excruciating experiences. Not that that could ever be the case with the Richard Alston Dance Company, whose annual visit is one of the few diary dates that we would never miss. We’ve followed the company for donkeys’ years now and each time they come they always deliver something spectacular. Whether it be the stunning dancing of the young talented company members or the stirring choreography produced by Messrs Alston and Lawrance, we sit in awe and appreciation of their extraordinary skills. Last night’s programme was no different and was as varied and as exciting as you could ever wish from a contemporary dance company. The overall standard of performance was astounding.

The first piece was Rejoice in the Lamb; not, as Mrs Chrisparkle suggested, what you say when your Sunday Roast finally arrives, but a beautiful, elegant dance choreographed by Richard Alston to a moving cantata by Benjamin Britten. It’s based on an 18th century poem by Christopher Smart who used to pounce on people in the street to get them to pray with him. Nicholas Bodych gives a wonderful central performance as the enthusiastic poet with a penchant for religious mania. Some moments make you smile, but mostly you come away with a distinct feeling of prayer and spirituality to the whole piece, definitely helped by Britten’s remarkable music. The interaction between the dancers is constantly changing and I recognised moments of strength, care and support as well as scenes of enmity and rejection. A very assured, thoughtful and refined start to the evening.

After a pause next was Holderlin Fragments, another Alston/Britten combination inspired by the work of a poet, this time the German romantic poet Friedrich Holderlin. Six fragments of his work are set to a song-cycle by Britten and accompanied by the dancers showing incredible agility and forming terrific angles with their bodies. The ladies are presented in light, flowing, elegant dresses but the guys appear to have been clad courtesy of the H&M loungewear department, which made for an interesting visual juxtaposition. All the dancers gave strong, watchable performances but I was particularly impressed with the energy and artistry of Ihsaan de Banya in this piece.

Often the middle dance in a contemporary dance programme is what I term the “difficult” one – harder to understand, more cerebral than physical, the worthy result of an ambitious project that was meant to make you think, and if the enjoyment of the dance suffers as a result, then so be it. Not this time. Burning, the new dance by Martin Lawrance, premiered only last week in Edinburgh, is the stuff that dreams are made on. It takes as its subject Franz Liszt, in his persona as superstar sex symbol, who had all the 19th century European ladies clamouring for his every attention. One of these was the Countess Marie d’Agoult, with whom he had two children despite the fact that she was already married, and that he continued to carry on with – shall we say – his bachelor lifestyle to his heart’s content. Eventually Marie has enough of his philandering and, despite his outrageous protestations and pleadings, dumps him and runs off (and well he deserved it).

I loved every minute of this dance. It’s a gripping drama that unfolds with beautiful clarity and perfect story-telling and features two sensational performances from Liam Riddick and Nancy Nerantzi. Mr Riddick embodies Liszt’s charisma, vanity and flirtiness with the other girls to perfection; and when Miss Nerantzi walks on in that red dress with that look in her eye, you just know that nothing can stop the passionate affair that lies ahead. There’s a stunning love sequence when the two dance in perfect symmetry which really took my breath away. There’s no denying the fantastic rapport they have with each other, but I also really loved the scenes with Miss Nerantzi battling with the other girls who still want a piece of the action – she might as well have shouted “Back off, bitches!” with her body language and challenging expression, daring them to do something about it. Elly Braund, Oihana Vesga Bujan, Jennifer Hayes and Phoebe Hart bring a marvellously sensual attack to these Liszt-hungry Hungarians. I also enjoyed Nicholas Bodych and Ihsaan de Banya’s fruitless attempts to win back their unruly unfaithful wives, and the whole piece is danced to Jason Ridgway’s superb playing of Liszt’s Danse Sonata live, which gives the piece additional substance and edge. But it’s that fantastic partnership between Mr Riddick and Miss Nerantzi that will stay with me for a long time; I doubt if you could see a better couple on any dance stage at the moment. I think this is probably my favourite piece ever danced by this company (and I can remember as far back as Rainbow Bandit).

The final piece of the evening actually featured in their 2010 programme, Overdrive, and it’s one of those crowd-pleasing pieces with a dynamic soundtrack and exciting choreography. It weaves a wonderful crescendo of movement with blistering techno-throb that really gets under your skin. The whole company get in the act with this assault on your senses, and the demanding attention that they have to give it really pays off and rewards us with a powerful, exhilarating and athletic end to the evening.

This is the most consistently exceptional company performing contemporary dance that I know. After Northampton, their tour takes them to Shrewsbury, High Wycombe, Yeovil, Glasgow and – if it’s more convenient for you – New Jersey. For a fulfilling evening of top quality dance I can’t recommend them too highly. Oh – and if you want to see how to take a curtain call, no one does it with more elegance!

Our first Edinburgh experience

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I’d spent weeks poring over the Fringe catalogue (it’s massive, if you haven’t seen it) and the Fringe website, trying to pick out the best performances for Mrs Chrisparkle and me to attend – and, on the whole, I think I did pretty well. 20 shows in 3 days was ambitious, but we succeeded in seeing 19 of them. The elusive 20th was just a bit too late on our first night, considering we’d been up since 5:30am, to get three trains to hit Waverley station by 2pm. I’m satisfied with that hit rate.

We stayed at the Carlton on North Bridge, a hotel that has very fond memories for us, as it was the first place we’d stayed at in Edinburgh when we were but green and callow youths in the mid 1980s. It’s a good choice for the Fringe as it’s really central – no more than about 15 minutes walk from 80% or more of the venues. But boy, do they charge like wounded bulls during Festival time. Our three nights cost over £900 for b&b. Stupid price really, but this morning we walked past the central Ibis hotel and even they had room only rates starting at £219 per night. Edinburgh at Festival time is expensive/elitist/rip-off-city (you choose).

By contrast, the shows themselves are really cheap. Many are free (and then you make a donation on the way out, depending in your level of generosity/ how much you enjoyed it/ how guilty the performer made you feel. Those that aren’t free are rarely more than £12 or so, and, if you pay £25 to become a Friend of the Fringe, many of the shows are available at 2 for the price of one. Our 20 shows cost us roughly £290, including Friends membership, which works out at an average of £7.25 each per show. That’s pretty amazing value.

I’d planned our three days meticulously (as is my wont) so the dozens of flyers we accumulated didn’t influence our choices of what to see at all. However, next time (and there definitely will be a next time) we’ll go for longer (a week?) and keep one day completely unbooked, to be filled with the shows that the flyers (and their enthusiastic flyer-givers) convinced us were worth seeing. I’ve got wads of flyers for shows that all look great, and it’s a source of some frustration that we’re headed back doon sooth on the train (from where I am writing, gentle reader) with those shows unseen (by us). I just hope those lucky patrons who will see them enjoy them.

We’ve been to Edinburgh many times before but were completely unprepared for the Festival Vibe. It’s so different at this time of year. Crowds are thronging, of course, but there’s a youthful exuberance everywhere, as all these hopeful young people, freshly arrived in town, are finally getting the chance to show us what they’ve spent months planning. They want to spread pleasure; they want to communicate their message; I’m sure a few at least will hope for great reviews to further their career prospects. The whole place is riddled with positive energy – and it’s completely wonderful.

Social media gets friendlier too. In the time between booking the shows and taking the post-shows train home, I’ve followed (on twitter, not stalked them back to their digs) many of the performers and companies we’ve seen, and many have started following me. We’ve exchanged loads of good natured banter that could (just *could*) develop into longer lasting online friendships. I have too many really good friendships that started online to underestimate the Power of the Tweet. It’s all a source of Good.

But, when all is said and done, it’s all about the shows, darling. And I have to say, with a couple of minor exceptions, the quality has been of a standard much greater than I would have expected. I’ve done some short, running blogs about the shows we’ve seen and for the most part I’d really have liked to have taken more time to write about each individual show in greater detail – but alas there just hasn’t been the time. But if I think back to the brilliant acting we’ve seen (The Curing Room, Trainspotting, Away From Home, Frank Sent Me), the elegantly crafted writing we’ve enjoyed (First Class, Lace Up), the style and panache of the performers we’ve witnessed (Travesti, Salon Mika, Russell Grant), and the sheer fun of the comedy we’ve shared (Margaret Thatcher Queen of Soho, Spank, Quint Fontana), then it’s clear that the variety and quality of what we’ve seen has been outstanding. Yes, a couple were under par, and one was downright disgraceful (Best of Burlesque should be prosecuted under the Trades Description Act) – but, really, it’s been a joy.

If there was one thing that hit me most, artistically speaking, it was how the many plays that take no more than an hour or so really validate and keep relevant the concept of the one-act play. You don’t often get to see them on the commercial stage – maybe as part of a double bill, but on their own they’re too short to make an evening out last. At the Edinburgh Fringe they’re the perfect length to fit one of your artistic slots, and they’re very rewarding. First Class, Lace Up and Frank Sent Me all came in at under an hour but were all riveting and engrossing stories. When you write a play that length, there’s no time for irrelevances or padding. Nothing unnecessary is included, nothing is wasted. You have to concentrate, you have to work with the cast to savour the real meat of each text. But what a rewarding activity!

The other thing that surprised us about ourselves was our ability to sit in the front row and get picked on. We didn’t do it hoping to be picked on, far from it – but as a repercussion of sitting in the front row so that you got a good view, it became a matter of unimportance. Dancing with Russell Grant and Mika (from Salon Mika), exchanging badinage with the Spank hosts, reciting poetry with Paul Savage, being called a “silver fox” by Paul Ricketts (is that really what I am?) all became part of the fun and not something to be feared. We learned a lot about ourselves as a result.

I made one or two errors in scheduling, not quite allowing sufficient time to get from one venue to the next, because I didn’t factor in performances over-running, or the extreme slowness of progressing through certain streets crammed with idle dawdlers on a Saturday night. I hadn’t realised how the main centres (Assembly, Pleasance, Udderbelly, etc) had within them a number of individual venues that meant you could basically spend an entire day in the same venue seeing ten or more performances. But I’m wiser now, and I know how to tackle the 2015 with even more ruthless precision – and I might even build in a little time to eat and have an afternoon nap too.

Thanks Edinburgh, it’s been real. And thanks to all those casts, technicians, writers and musicians who made our three days into an Edinburgh Disneyland experience. Even lining up to get into a venue reminds you of queuing to get on a ride. Sheer self-indulgent pleasure. I loved it! I’m not normally one for regrets, but I wish we’d discovered the Edinburgh Fringe earlier!

The Edinburgh Fringe 3-Nighter – Salon Mika

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Moving back into the world of burlesque and cabaret – I think – next we have, all the way from New Zealand, Salon Mika. This is the description: “Award winning cabaret king returns for ninth Festival Fringe. Burlesque-Haka, tribal erotica mingle amidst electronic-beats. Salon, that rare place where all forms of life, love, lust, and loss are embraced, with stories spoken from the dark side. Sexual passions collide with human failings in fleeting moments that are ‘hard yet soft, gentle yet rough’. Mika, your ringmaster guides you through musical vignettes, eye-catching noir gems of dubious lustre and deceptive motifs. Come see something beautifully raw. Dress to express!” Really not sure what to make of all that, but I’m expecting something decadent, like an Aubrey Beardsley print, and it definitely sounds like there’s a bit of circus in there too. It’s due to start at 21:00 at Dance Base, so I hope to come back with some instant reactions shortly after 10pm, but there’s only a twenty minute gap between its finishing and our next show, so I might be a bit late. You can see the preview for our next show around the same time.

Well, what was lacking in the Best of Burlesque Show was more than made up for in this stylish, witty, adult cabaret show, starring the amazing Mika, who just oozes sensuality without losing his common touch. A really classy evening where Maori meets Milf, if I can put it that way. Mika’s supported by a brilliant Haka troupe, who scare the sh*t out of you as a heavy juxtaposition to Mika’s torch songs. Plus the amazing Chairman Siche on keyboards. Missing a big audience on the show we saw, it’s definitely worth your attention!

The Edinburgh Fringe 3-Nighter – Best of Burlesque

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Can’t think of a better (theatrical) way of spending the end of the evening than with an hour’s worth of the Best of Burlesque. We love the Burlesque Show that regularly comes and titillates us in Northampton, but this Edinburgh show is courtesy of a different provider of Burlesquerie, Impresario Chaz Royal of London Burlesque Festival fame. He promises “an all-star roundup of the best burlesque at the Fringe. Sultry strip tease, cutting edge cabaret and vaudeville variety collide. Surprises and titillation at the ready!” Sounds good to me. Kick off is at 23:55, Assembly George Square Gardens is the place. After that, and the nine previous shows today, I’ll be ready for my bed! Still, I’ll be here with some instant reactions before turning the light off, and there’ll also be the preview for the first of our Sunday shows.

This showed how classy and sophisticated the Burlesque shows we get in Northampton are! The first and final acts got it, but the majority of the others were very rough around the edges, including possibly the most boring act I’ve ever seen. Mrs C wanted to leave halfway through – but we stayed, probably not that wisely. Ah well, you can’t win them all!

The Edinburgh Fringe 3-Nighter – Russell Grant: Strictly Edinburgh

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Well you can’t deny I’ve put together a varied programme for us at Edinburgh! We’re off to the Gilded Balloon at 18:45 to see Russell Grant’s Strictly Edinburgh show, which I’m sure will be packed full of song and showbiz, and a few nifty dance moves in between – plus a lot of Russell’s legendary camp humour. Here’s the description: “Reach for the stars as the nation’s darling rockets into town with a showbiz extravaganza that’ll have you dancing in the aisles. Filled with magic and sparkle, get ready for a barn-storming, foot-tapping, feel good hour to lift your spirits and have you wreathed in smiles. This is the ultimate happy hour! It’s a fun-packed party! Come in feeling blue and leave feeling strictly fablas! No room for party-poopers! Leave your worries at the door and your dancing feet well and truly on the floor!” Well if it delivers all that, we will be well chuffed! I’ll report back around 8pm and also preview our next show around the same time. By the way – this marks our halfway point in Edinburgh – ten shows done, ten to go!

Well both Mrs Chrisparkle and I have danced with Russell Grant – although she got a bit closer with a cheek to cheek waltz! (I just showed him my disco moves) Very enjoyable show where Russell takes a trip down memory lane reflecting on his career and giving us all the maximum chance of joining in. Great if you’re a Strictly fan!

The Edinburgh Fringe 3-Nighter – Bromance

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And now our first taste of Edinburgh Fringe dance/physical theatre. I booked for us to see Bromance because I thought it sounded funny but primarily I was absolutely mesmerised by the promotional photo of the three guys from Barely Methodical, the company staging the show. From the description: “Frenetic but friendly. Captivating but casual. Audacious but awkward. Barely Methodical Troupe, winners of the UK’s first circus competition Circus Maximus, fuse their inner frats with a dazzling tour-de-force of cutting edge circus prowess and physical theatre mayhem. Join one of the UK’s hottest new circus ensembles as they walk the line between the pugnacious and the poignant in this hilarious, bitter-sweet and down-right jaw-dropping celebration of everything blokey – where handshakes become handstands, and back-slaps become back-flips”. I’m expecting a dazzling display of dance/circus skills and hoping for a really entertaining blend of choreography and story-telling. The place – Underbelly, Bristo Square; the time – 16:55. I’ll aim to give you feedback shortly after 6pm, and the preview for the next show will follow shortly after.

That was good fun! A combination of comedy, acrobatics and origami (well it played a small part). Not to undervalue it, we both thought it would be great on a European cruise ship – those Italians and Spanish would love it. If you’re going to see this, can I suggest that if you can’t sit in the front row, go quite a long way back to get good height. We didn’t get quite enough height and so missed some of their low level trickery. If you love a bit if circus and tumbling, you’ll love this!

Review – Rambert Dance Company, Mixed Bill of Four Elements, Rooster, Dutiful Ducks and Sounddance, Sadler’s Wells, 24th May 2014

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The appeal of booking to see this programme by Rambert could be summed up in four words – The Return of Rooster! My fantasy contemporary dance show programme would be a night of Christopher Bruce works – in this order, Swansong, Ghost Dances and then Rooster. I can remember seeing Rooster several times, at High Wycombe and Oxford – but a trawl through my programme collection came up with just one occasion – October 1995 in Wycombe, with a fantastic cast that included Christopher Powney (now Artistic Director of the Royal Ballet School), Marie Laure Agrapart (who now has her own dance company in France, and with whom I was in love, sadly she didn’t know it), Paul Liburd (now teaching at the London Studio Centre) and Vincent Redmon (not sure what he’s doing now).

There was a time – about when Mark Baldwin took over as Artistic Director – that I felt Rambert slightly lost its way. We kept faith with them, and went to see them whenever we could, but sometimes the dance skills were not as great as in the 80s and 90s. I don’t attribute this to Mr Baldwin – he’s a great choreographer and we used to love seeing his own dance company’s productions at that time. Maybe they just got the Millennium Bug. That’s when Richard Alston’s company really took over for me as being the company You Just Had To See.

But I’m delighted to say that Rambert were on top form with this mixed programme of old favourites, and although there has been some criticism that Rambert are rehashing old stuff and not creating new work – which may be a justified observation – there’s no doubting that Sadler’s Wells was packed to the rafters with a very enthusiastic audience last Saturday night. The first piece was Lucinda Childs’ Four Elements, first performed by Rambert in 1990, her work rarely seen in the UK. Each of the four elements makes up each of the four sections of the dance, so I’m not quite sure why some people were so confused as to when it was all over, applauding when only a couple of the elements had been completed – cue for my pompous disapproval of people applauding too early. Mrs Chrisparkle rather appreciates it when people applaud early, as it shows that the audience are really enjoying it and can’t contain their enthusiasm. She’s much more charitable than me.

Four Elements is visually spectacular, with costumes representing dominos, playing cards, a skeleton and – I think – picnic blankets, reflecting similar designs in the backdrops behind the dancers. Water, the first section, had all the dancers together in a series of movements that left me in mind of Olympic gymnasts performing the Floor Exercise. The second section, Earth, had just the women dancers performing largely the same kind of movements as in the first part. The third section was Air, just men this time, randomly entering the stage from the wings individually, each with a mixed up sequence of small leaps, large leaps and skips. If the first scene was the Floor Exercise, this was the Triple Jump. It was entertaining to watch, but it wasn’t until the last scene – Fire – that the whole dance worked for me, which brought together the three previous elements combined with the dancers dancing together for some of the time, but definitely solos at the end. All in all, it was an enjoyable piece, if ever so slightly soporific to watch.

After the first interval it was time for Rooster. I was really surprised to find they hadn’t scheduled it to end the evening. Performed to a soundtrack of great Rolling Stones hits, it’s a satirical look at the chauvinistic 1960s male, how he preens and panders to himself, how he mistreats women, and how he often doesn’t get the upper hand. It’s a wonderful combination of humour, colour, sex and Christopher Bruce’s inimitable choreography and it always makes me whoop with joy.

The characters aren’t named but there’s a “lead rooster” who is the first to pose slowly into place, and he seems to be in charge of the rest of the guys. He was danced by Miguel Altunaga and he is absolutely brilliant. He starts off the “Little Red Rooster” sequence and also features in some other numbers, notably “Sympathy for the Devil” at the end. Particular highlights for me were a spectacular “Paint it Black” with a fantastic performance by Dane Hurst and a fabulous trio of menacing girls danced by Hannah Rudd, Carolyn Bolton and Patricia Okenwa; a beautiful Ruby Tuesday with a very sensuous and wistful performance by Antonette Dayrit; and – always a pleasure – a superb duel/duet between Vanessa Kang and Adam Blyde (I think) in “Play with Fire”, where the lavish red boa inevitably takes on a life of its own.

Christopher Bruce has re-staged it slightly and brought the choreography up to date in a few places – I noticed the three Paint It Black girls in the finale adding a disco element to their dancing; and Dane Hurst did a bit of “shootin’ from the hip” gun action during one of his routines. Both of these were enjoyable additions. If I had any criticisms it would be that the guys who have to catch Ruby Tuesday in their arms and then toss her in the air like a pancake slightly telegraphed their moves so that they were visibly static in place to receive her long before it was necessary – a slight distraction, I felt. I also thought the performance of “Not Fade Away” was a little less manic than I remember it, which slightly reduced its impact. But these are very minor quibbles on what always has been and remains one of the most exhilarating 25 minutes of dance you can ever hope to see.

Another interval took us into Dutiful Ducks, a short male solo choreographed by Richard Alston and danced superbly by Dane Hurst to a backing track of a nonsensical jumbling up of alliterative words. It’s fun – but it’s only a curtain raiser to the final substantial piece, Merce Cunningham’s Sounddance. Here we have another alienating soundtrack, a scribble of noises that partly resemble that teeth-on-edge scraping chalk on a blackboard sound, the amplified crumpling of crisp packets and a severe drain clearance problem. It’s extremely disconcerting to listen to, but the accompanying dance is as beautiful and as eloquent as you could wish for. If you removed the scribble and replaced it with, say, a Brandenburg Concerto, the dance and the music would intertwine beautifully. It’s the juxtaposition between the formal elegance of the dance and the modern racket that gives this piece great force and energy. Very crisp and accurate footwork, it showed the company at its absolute best. I would still have preferred the evening to end with Rooster though. The applause at the end of Rooster way surpassed that at the end of Sounddance. Maybe we were all Rooster fans, returned for a Rooster reunion. It kind of felt like it. Nevertheless it was a great evening of dance and we all loved it.

P. S. Interesting theatre etiquette issue. As we were all taking our seats at the beginning of the evening, a lady (not very tall) and a gentleman (average height) went to sit in the row in front of me and the lady to my right. The lady went to sit in front of me, the gentleman went to sit in front of the lady to my side. Their bottoms had barely touched the padding when the lady to my right interrupted them and very firmly asked them if they would swap sides so that the lady was in front of her and the gentleman was in front of me. That way she would see the stage better. The lady in front had no problem in changing sides. However, this meant that I got the bigger bloke in front of me – and as I hadn’t been party to the arrangements I got a bit narked by this. So I said “actually, I preferred it the way it was”, to which the lady to my right, who hadn’t looked at me at all yet, said “but you’re much taller so it won’t affect you”. She had no idea if I was tall or short to be honest. I said that I would bob my head around and try to see past him. As it happened, it didn’t really inconvenience me, but I did rather resent how she went about it. She should have said to the people in front, “would you mind swapping sides so that I can see better”, and then turn to me and say, “that is, if that’s ok with you?” To which I would have said, of course that was no problem. But instead she decided that she was going to saddle me with the bigger bloke and that was that. Mrs C thinks I’m starting to get very cantankerous in my old age.

Review – Lord of the Flies, New Adventures, Birmingham Hippodrome, 18th May 2014

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It’s a tricky thing, converting a much studied, highly allegorical, significant work of literature such as Golding’s Lord of the Flies into just under two hours’ worth of contemporary dance. As the director/choreographer, if you go into too much plot detail you end up getting bogged down in a mere series of gestures and “dance conversations”, and the audience gets concerned about having to understand every single little nuance – which is pretty darn impossible. On the other hand, not enough detail and it becomes too abstract with just hints and suggestions of the original work and you haven’t really covered your remit.

“Do you know the story of Lord of the Flies?” I asked Mrs Chrisparkle, as we quaffed our pre-matinee glass of Sauvignon Blanc. “No”, she replied, “do you?” “It’s all about a group of boys who get washed up on some desert island and have to survive.” I realised my response was light on narrative but I couldn’t remember much else. I read it when I was about 16 at school Because I Had To. “Oh yes,“ I added, “there’s also a boy called Piggy who gets killed”. “Is there a synopsis in the programme?” she enquired. There wasn’t. Two and a half hours later, by the time we were in post-show discussion mode, we realised there were a number of moments that we didn’t really understand. What was the pig’s head all about? Who was the mysterious bloke who suddenly appeared and then dropped out of sight? And then came back again? Why was the one guy left on stage at the end? What do the clothes rails represent? One quick flick through the Wikipedia synopsis of the story answers most of those questions, but I agree with Mrs C – and the ladies on the train home in the evening whom we eavesdropped and heard saying the same thing – a synopsis would have been helpful. And I still don’t get what the clothes rails were for.

Scott Ambler is the choreographer for this piece, with Matthew Bourne as overall director. I am a huge admirer of Mr Ambler’s work – ever since we first saw him as the Prince in Swan Lake, I’ve never seen that role performed better, and I’ve followed his career with thinly-disguised fandom. I think he’s done a superb job with the choreography in Lord of the Flies, creating some exhilarating solos, exciting stand-out group work and characterful quirky moments for individual dancers throughout the show.

There’s a core cast of nine dancers taking the main parts, but in each venue around the country, there is a backing ensemble made up of local young men and boys, from college students to teenagers down to little kids, all of whom study dance or performing arts, and who, on the strength of the performance we saw, overwhelmingly put their heart and soul into it. Naturally, this structure is going to lead to an imbalance of dance skills and expertise, so Mr Ambler has had to construct routines that will bring the best of out of all members of the cast, both experienced and beginners. The result is fantastic – apart from the obvious differences of ages with some of the dancers, the integration between the professionals and ensemble is seamless. You simply cannot see the join. There are many sequences when you have twelve or fourteen dancers centre stage performing the “main dance” (for want of a better expression) while the rest of the cast lurk on the edges, observing or acting out their own mini-playlets; but it’s astounding to think that three to five of those main dancers will be from the local cast.

The Birmingham Hippodrome has a pretty massive expanse performance area but the show occupies every possible space. When all the cast are on stage there is so much to watch, with so many different relationships being played out, so much interaction between the dancers and so many little individual scenes that give you an insight into the characters depicted, that I think you’d need to see this show at least three times to be sure of seeing everything. There is an excellent sense of plot progression, as the costumes, make up and choreography all work together to increase the sense of developing chaos and savagery. Even if there are moments when you really don’t get what the story is trying to say, or the symbolism escapes you, the overall visual and musical impact is so strong that it carries you along anyway.

It’s danced throughout with the superb skill and commitment that you would expect from a Matthew Bourne production. Ralph, the kind of “Head Boy” character, is danced by Dominic North, who I think we have seen before but I haven’t really noticed much before. Not only is he a great dancer, but his facial expressions are really communicative, so you can follow plot details and understand Ralph’s character really well. He’s perfectly cast up against Danny Reubens’ “bad boy” Jack, who, I have to say, is exceptional in this production. He was great in last year’s Sleeping Beauty but since then he has really upped his game immensely over the past year. He’s one of those performers you can’t stop watching – definitely a star of the future. In addition, Layton Williams is brilliant as the wistful and unworldly Simon, with elegant and expressive solo work and he is fantastic in his final scene. There’s also a thoughtful and sincere performance by Sam Plant as the doomed Piggy, the responsible intellectual who is always going to be bullied by brutes.

All the ensemble guys were also equally fantastic, but a few really stood out for various reasons; Chris Wilson for his extraordinary presence and strong dance skills, Jack Dologhan for the humour and resilience of being the littlest chap, Khalid Daley for the sensitive way he moved with the music, Fenton Lockley for the way he acted through dance, and Hugo von Frangstein for his all-round stage presence and maturity. But, really, they were all great.

We’ve seen a number of Matthew Bourne/Adventures in Motion Pictures/New Adventures shows now over the years, and we both agreed that for visual impact and emotional contact this is very high up there with the greats. Swan Lake is still The Boss for us, but we enjoyed this more than Cinderella, Nutcracker!, Dorian Gray and maybe even Sleeping Beauty. You might just want to refresh your memory of the plot before going to see it, that’s all. This powerful and hard-hitting production is touring on and off for the rest of the year and is a must-see for anyone who enjoys their contemporary dance.

PS. There was a curtain-up announcement forewarning us that cast members would be at the exits after the show to collect donations to Matthew Bourne’s charitable foundation, Re:Bourne. We’re both perfectly happy to make a small donation on the way out of a theatre but, to be honest, you really do need a little more information about the work that a charity does if you’re to make a contribution. The announcement didn’t give any such details and the advertising in the programme about it is woolly at best. I’m sure it’s a decent cause but we didn’t feel able to give more than a moderate amount without more information. If you’re involved in Re:Bourne please feel free to post more information about its work!