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RAMBERT DANCE COMPANY
Edinburgh Festival Theatre, Wed 23—Fri 25 Nov
Ciroreographers frnd Inspiration rn many places. but a scrmce lab isn't usually one of them. Approached by the Institute of Physics to help them celebrate 'Frnstern Year". Rambert's artistic drrector Mark Baldmn suddenly found hrrnself back at school.
'l didn't really have any knowledge of physics untrl thrspro1ect came around.~ he explains. 'And I tried reading lots of books. but rt wasn't really sinking rn. So the institute of Physics sent me a tutor for about a year. who talked rn metaphors. which was ama/rng because I understood rt completely.’ Baldwin discovered that many of the principles of phvsrcs lend themselves naturally to choreography. rn particular F-lnstern's theory on Brownran Motion. which focuses on the movement of molecules. By transferrrng that to the stage. Baldwin created Constant Speed. a wrtty. fast- paced piece for 90 dancers clad rn brrght costumes and molecule shaped head gear.
.Jornrng Baldwin on Rambert's latest triple brll rs former ar‘trstrc drrector Christopher Bruce. The man behind Ghost Dances has returned to the company for the first trrne srnce handing over the reins in (200?. With hrs new piece. A Steer Garden. along \.‘.’!lll (It/nous Conscience. the latest creatron from Kylie choreoilrapher and
Rambert Associate. Rafael i'ioriachela.
'Chrrstopher. Rafael and myself all started at Hambert as dancer's] says Baldwrn. and from that. the company has produced three strong generations of dance makers.‘
(Kelly Apterl
NFW WORK
HOW TO KILL (YOUR LOVER) Traverse Theatre, Edinburgh, Wed 23—Sat 26 Nov
Any poet who is banned and persecuted by a fascist state must be dorng sornethrng rrght. that's how Pablo Neruda's work was treated rn hrs natrve Chile under the Pinochet regrrne. Hardly surprising, as the work of the longtrme drplornat. polrtrcran and adxenturer not only srmrnered With the deep sensualrty and emotional truth of hrs book // Post/no adaptatron rnto Michael Radford's 1094 frlrrr
polrtrcalrty.
Fd Robson. artistic drrector of Theatre ()blectry. (it.le)‘.‘.’l(}(l()(}5; Neruda as one of the inspirational starting l)()llltf1 for thrs new devrsed piece Its trtle tells you much about the passions that underlie any relatronshrp. The person you most love rs. of course. the person you could shoot With the greatest eguanlmlty at times. so rt seems worth exploring as a theme. if only to prevent acts of vrolence further down the lrne. ()r alternatively. if you're beyond the pornt where homrcrde ls preventable. rt could present a game plan for how to go about it. As this male/female two l‘dlitlUl rs strll rn process. rt's dlffrcult to tell on which side of the kill your lover' debate it'll fall. but whatever way rt goes. there's bound to be some paSSlon and polrtrcs to hold your interest. (Steve Cramer)
Review Ni W WORK
UBU THE KING
Dundee Rep, until Sat 26 Oct, then touring. Seen at the Tron, Glasgow 0...
That noblest and most neglected tradition in the theatre, the fart gag, can always stand a revival, although one writer you wouldn’t expect to reprise it is David Greig. But every day, as the Welsh say, is a day at school and, lo and behold, we witness Gerry Mulgrew miming away to a splendid gaseous accompaniment, where much theatrical tension derives from the question of whether he’s going to ‘follow through’.
It could only be Ubu, and Greig’s version, enjoying its first full-scale production at the joint behest of the Young Vic, Dundee Rep and the Tron after a long period on the shelf, contains as much of the glorious scatology of the original as you could hope for. But beneath all the shit, shagging and slaughter, this is quite a different version. Instead of a grotesquely rapacious parody of the bourgeois, Gerry Mulgrew’s eponymous Macbeth burlesque is a deluded old jakey in an impoverished old folks’ home, matched with an aged, whingeing old boot of a wife (Ann Louis Ross). His battles with Kings and Princes (mainly played by Erun Elliot) are less a microcosm of society than a bathetic battle for control of a run down public lounge.
In making Ubu a superannuated working-class senility victim, with limited implications for the outside world, director Dominic Hill loses some of the play’s bigger social impact. But there are compensations in his production, which finds an unexpected sense of pathos in the character, exploring an interiority in which the psychological degeneration implicit in Ubu’s substitution of a monopoly board for a country becomes a sad trope about old age and powerlessness. This strange, internalised, non-public Ubu might be against the grain of the original, but it works. And there are some delightfully filthy songs, with Ross’ magnificently icky song of seduction with a young carer a particular highlight. Tom Piper’s seedy, lavatorial set is a treat, and Mulgrew and Ross are truly splendid, and if there’s something a bit alarming about the text’s fear of working-class empowerment (heaven forfend that bankers and business interests should be punished by proles, rather than the middle classes!) there’s a kind of gusto to the whole affair which makes it very entertaining. Well worthwhile. (Steve Cramer)
these days better known for rts but was also known for a deep
Theatre
Stage Whispers
I Whispers was in attendance for Maggie Kinloch’s production of Martin Bowman and the late Bill Findlay’s adaptation of The Skelfs, a Québécois play by Michel Marc Bouchard. Originally performed in its native land in 1987, the play amounts to an examination of colonialism and love in pre-World War I Quebec. There are touches of both Wilde and Genet about the text - if you can imagine such a thing - as it tells the retrospective story, performed by a group of sexually ambivalent male convicts, of the ill fated love of two young men, and the hand a repressed homosexual plays in its destruction. As an examination of colonialist discourse this piece amounted to a compelling night of theatre. Whispers’ rheumy old eye also picked up Scottish National Theatre supremo Vicky Featherstone in attendance. Perhaps this bright lady has an eye on next year’s programme. Certainly the performances of such talent as Lewis Howden, Steven McNicoll and Michael MacKenzie lent even greater strength to this intriguing text, a fitting tribute to the late and much lamented Findlay, the like of whom we will not see again.
I On this particular evening, Whispers was recovering from the mighty bash that was the launch of the National. What was so inspiring about this event, aside, of course, from Featherstone‘s ingenious programme. was the sheer size and scale of the Scottish theatre. A thousand people made their way to the Tramway for the occasion, and, suddenly, one realised the numbers involved in our thriving theatre community are much greater than one might expect. And it wasn‘t just the free booze that brought a sense of optimism for the future. for one could sense an excitement in the air from all present, be they technicians, directors. writers or actors. The great John McGrath was quoted in promising a philosophy of ‘a good night out' for the future theatre, and it seemed that anything was possible. Feel a rosy glow folks, for there‘s a good deal of fun to be had in the near future.
Steven McNicoll
if Nth. 1 [MW .‘lll‘f‘ THE LIST 87