FESTIVAL DANCE | Reviews
A C L A V A C L E H C M I
: O T O H P
TUTU: DANCE IN ALL ITS GLORY Sending up dance with a huge dose of love ●●●●●
There’s a difference between mockery and tenderly sending something up, and Tutu: Dance in All Its Glory definitely falls into the latter category. French choreographer Philippe Lafeuille has written not exactly a love letter but a cheeky series of text messages to dance — short snippets that poke fun at vanity, pretension and absurdity, as well as passages of pure joyful beauty. It’s all pulled off by the six Chicos Mambo and one enigmatic masked female sprite in a way that is pleasing to watch and easy to follow. No one is safe from Lafeuille’s mischievous eye, not classical
ballerinas with hubristic intentions, nor camera-hogging ballroom dancers, earnest contemporary dance troupes, nor even the late grande dame of dance Pina Bausch. Even choreographers looking to capitalise on humorous whimsy themselves are mocked when the group cavort wearing nappies to Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring. Each of the cast is also given a solo slot, and these are the most
beguiling, from Vincenzo Veneruso’s en pointe grace followed by his stomp offstage, to Julien Mercier’s weightless floating on aerial strap. Guillaume Queau punctuates his Haka dance with dainty gestures, providing comic incongruity, and Stéphane Vitrano’s rippling arm swans are fascinating for their detailed muscle control.
The cherries on top of this confection are Corinne Petitpierre’s delightful costumes, not least the flowering elephant legs of the opening scene, the tutu vegetable headpieces, and the cosmos of pastel-coloured pompoms that covers the stage at the end.
With its unashamedly highbrow references, poker-faced surrealism and big crowd-pleasing style, Lafeuille and the Chicos have created something quite special. (Lucy Ribchester) ■ Pleasance Courtyard, until 28 Aug (not 22), 4pm, £11–£14.50 (£9–£13).
P H O T O :
P E D R O G R E G
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SLUT A fallen woman tale that doesn’t quite dig deep enough ●●●●●
CIRCA: HUMANS Circa is back, testing the limits of behaviour and the body ●●●●● VELOCITY RISING Impressive talent from Irish dance stars and their musical companions ●●●●●
Amina Khayyam is a Kathak dancer who uses the ancient North Indian storytelling form to address issues affecting women. Her aim here is to explore the growth of one girl as she comes to experience what the world has in store. It starts promisingly. Khayyam is a tremendous dancer, full of clarity, emotion and grace, leading a cast of four. Sex, then birth are depicted, and in both we see how strong women’s bodies must be to enact the roles carved out for them. This power is particularly vivid in the depiction of bringing up the child – Khayyam swoops and dives through entertaining and teaching her little one with an energy that never tires.
But from here the imagery of the piece takes a
dip, and we end up with a replaying of the age-old tale of the fallen woman; abused, manipulated, ending up as a prostitute and heroin addict. The symbols adopted feel both too obscure and too simple – is a box passed around by the cast the box into which women must fit? Though its heart is unquestionably in the right place, Slut doesn’t feel complex enough to tackle the insidious cultural poison of the word. (Lucy Ribchester) ■ Summerhall, until 27 Aug (not 21), 11.45am, £10 (£8).
62 THE LIST FESTIVAL 17–28 Aug 2017
Can you lick your elbow? Have you ever tried? That might be one of the limits of human potential that Australian circus Circa has discovered in their examinations of behaviour and the body. It’s a neat idea, combining clowning with the notion that there are things beyond our capabilities, that as a species we find solutions by seeking social bonds. And watching ten highly trained acrobats hop about the stage trying to do it is very funny. For a while, Circa has been stripping back the bells and whistles of circus, but so keen are they here to prove they’re just like us, you barely notice the first performer – it looks like she has wandered out of the crowd – until she strips to a coloured leotard. Like Clark Kent and Selina Kyle, these superhumans go about unnoticed.
What follows is a blunt choreography of violence,
tenderness, manipulation, cooperation, balance and force – yes they slam each other about but they are also there to leap forward and catch each other when a flip goes wrong. Here are humans pushing the limits of flexibility
and strength and they are a marvel to watch. (Lucy Ribchester) ■ Underbelly Circus Hub, until 26 Aug (not 21), 7pm, £17.50–£19.50 (£16.50–£18.50).
Sadly they’re a man down in this tight display of turbocharged Irish jigging, showcasing a new generation of Irish step dancers. Dancer James Devine, who beat Michael Flatley’s world record for most feet taps per second (38), is forced to sit most of the show out after an ankle injury, but Galway dancer Anne Marie Keaney steps in with impressive scissor kicks and frenzied footwork. David Geaney, a semi-finalist on Britain’s Got
Talent, is determined to undo any damage done by Flatley, the Riverdancer who gave Irish dance a cheesy image in his leather breeks and headbands back in the 90s. So the 22-year-old dances in jeans and a hoodie, and the stage set-up is simple to keep the focus on those freakishly liquid ankles of his.
Grainy footage of the history of Irish dance is beautiful, with a little bit of explanation on the rules (arms down, feet out, lots of heel clicking) and the trio on fiddle, guitar and cajon (crate) drum are excellent at building atmosphere and doing call-and- responses with the tap shoes. The scratch DJ jars a bit; the traditional dance seems best unadorned with fusion flourishes. Staggering precision and speed are the real draws here. (Claire Sawers) ■ Assembly George Square Studios, until 27 Aug, 6.35pm, £14–£15 (£13–£14).