Cloud Dance Festival on Friday made me want to write Flailbox again. Mainly because dancers need to get the message that USING TEXT DOESN’T MAKE YOU LOOK SMARTER AND ALMOST DEFINITELY DETRACTS FROM YOUR CHOREOGRAPHY UNLESS YOU’RE COMPLETELY AWESOME. It’s true. Come on. Dance pieces shouldn’t need dancers to speak the dance should speak for itself. Dancers speaking in dance pieces just make the audience feel uncomfortable. And if they then eat oranges, regurgitate them, take off all their clothes, put them in a bucket of water and then put them back on again, expect total audience alienation and not universal acclaim for your depth and insight (yes, that actually happened). I’ll grant an exception for Taciturn, though cos Scouse pleasantries are always acceptable).
Considering Cloud Dance put on upwards of 8 acts a night, they’re always enjoyable bills. This time I really liked 3 pieces, was surprised by one, annoyed by another and rolled my eyes at two. But large glasses of wine are only £3.50 at the Cochrane so it all went down pretty well. Mandy from SYTYCD was in the audience and when Sol Dans came on for their bit it all made sense. Thos was surely where she’d come from – all acrobatics, ‘lyrical’, impassioned, yearning, bonkers athleticism – and indeed, turns out the choreography, Melody Squires, helped her out with her SYTYCD solos. Sol Dans, incidentally – kind of awesome but wibbly on Friday. I imagine when they’re on top form they’re gobstopping, if – unfortunately – a bit Spelbound.
So I’m back for a bit of flailing. And in real life, I’ve been back at ballet classes myself for almost a year now. Summer school in August where I’m learning some Giselle.
NB, I’ve laid off dance writing for a while but the most thrilling things I’ve seen lately were Rambert’s spring show from the stalls seats at Sadlers (Linha Curva woop woop woop) and Michael Clark’s Come Been Gone for the second time at Barbican. Seriously heart racing, hand clasping, sweaty palm stuff. Which makes you remember why you go to all this dance – sometimes it just makes you want to explode. In a good way.
tapping, flamenco, contemporary, tae-kwon-do and ballet. The evening performance on Friday looks especially tasty to me including a cutting edge contemporary duet from 
Populating a meaty and variously joyful, brooding and contemplative bill, Rambert’s dancers appeared fresh and strong on opening night. New dancers are coming through and the more established personalities, such as the fabulous Angela Towler, are realigning themselves following the departure of Amy Hollingsworth earlier this year. Perhaps they are buoyed up by the company’s internal changes, with the appointment of a Dancers’ Management Team (Mikaela Polley, Andrew Hurst and Simon Cooper) to share the responsibilities previously undertaken by the Artistic Coordinator. Company dynamics are certainly changing.
Cameron McMillan’s Verge premiered this year at The Place and in that intimate space had an immediacy and urgency that was somewhat diluted by the transition to the Sadler’s Wells stage. Nonetheless, this is still a classy, sexy and brooding number that explores a fretful atmosphere and relishes its own stylisation. Set to a frantic and rhythmic electro-acoustic score conjured up from sounds made entirely by the dancers; sharp breaths, squeaking feet on floor, footfalls etc. the effect is, at times, oppressive. However, this suits the mood as the female dancers, resplendent in Roland Mouret’s black evening dresses, twitch and writhe, straddle and mount their chairs. Angela Towler is the centre of this piece, right at home in a wonky shoulderstand with her legs splitting effortlessly into impossible angles, but all the female dancers impress here. There are men too, in pants and just one sock each – on the verge of getting dressed, perhaps? The style more than nods to Wayne McGregor and Rafael Bonachela, yet Verge works as a distinctive and involving piece and frankly, looks just great.
I was worried about Lady into Fox. Whilst the desire to revive and re-imagine a piece from the archives is understandable and admirable, I remember how bored I’d been by Judgement of Paris so didn’t have high hopes. Happily, this fared better. Lady into Fox transported you to another era, another style of dance. It also told a story, which is rare in Rambert repertoire these days. There was an air of The Red Shoes about it; eccentric, with magical intent, but overall it didn’t feel like a complete or totally comprehensible work. Its premiere was a little ragged. The story’s conclusion is unclear and many punters came out into the interval somewhat bemused. Pieter Symonds lead performance, however, was triumphant. Her portrayal of the inexplicable transformation is literal in costume but gradual in interpretation. She morphs from lady of the hunt to fluffy fox to feral vixen in a flurry of nifty pointe work and foxy looks. Shame she didn’t get to savage a bunny. Now that would have been a climax.
Finally, Stand and Stare, Dharshan Singh Buller’s new work inspired by Salford artist LS Lowry which makes most of us think immediately of “Matchstick Men”. The piece certainly takes its cue from this stark, industrial vision. Debate may rage over whether this is does what it says on the tin but I found myself completely mesmerised by its hallmark swaying and tumbling procession. The twenty strong cast filled the stage in uniform black with just a hint of individual colour beneath, blankly portraying the indifference with which city folk regard each other. The piece is probably too long, although the last sections, featuring a very human and engaging duet in the foreground as the dark clad cast pass anonymously in the background and the end set against the sea with exuberant leaping from the male dancers lifted the spirits.
Entering Sadlers Wells auditorium you’re not usually greeted by a big ginger kitten telling you it loves you but it certainly makes a pleasant change and got me in a genial mood for the premiere of Aletta Collins’ “bloom”. It was great to see a Rambert ensemble piece that allowed the dancers to express their personalities and spread some genuine fun and warmth through the Wells. Collins’ piece explores “the idea of creating that perfect romantic moment”. Set to a lively gypsy inspired soundtrack the 16 dancers develop individual dance motifs, dash around and split off into polymorphous pairings or seductively sway en masse, all the while dodging or courting a bouquet of flowers, suspended by a rope, negotiating a door and largely ignoring an oversized ginger cat loitering upstage right. Intermittently serenaded by a strolling, lounge suited band (with original music courtesy of London Musici’s Robert Millet) the loose narrative centres on one coy pair who repeatedly fail to come together; resolving in a charmingly humorous ending. “bloom” is a refreshing tonic for Rambert’s repertoire and a colourful, entertaining, light hearted morsel for their audience’s consumption and, accordingly, was rapturously received.
