Rambert2; Northern Ballet review – muscle, lust and raw edge
Last year, Rambert’s new junior troupe stormed the London stage in a body-pumping debut. The high-throttle energy continues in Rambert2’s latest mixed bill, a trio of contemporary pieces serving up taut, edgy bursts of muscle. The company turns over each year, so it’s a fresh cohort on show for 2019/20 – young, hustling newcomers who make a hell of an impression, even when the choreography ebbs.
Terms and Conditions is the first choreographic foray from Baltimore-born Jermaine Spivey, a longstanding performer with Crystal Pite’s Kidd Pivot. It’s a fitful offering, tethering upbeat grooving to a woolly script about the paradoxes of human behaviour. Boosted by Spivey’s keen eye for theatrics, phrases often evolve into something arresting, but take a while to arrive, weighed down by competing ideas and some futzing about with microphones and mirrors. It’s a relief when the dance alone takes centre stage: this group makes elegant work of pulsing street moves.
Sin, extracted from Sidi Larbi Cherkaoui and Damien Jalet’s 2010 production Babel(words), spotlights Minouche Van de Ven and Prince Lyons, who brawl in a rough-and-ready duet that’s equal parts lust and brutality. Steamy tangles elicit raw, sensual postures, while gymnastic lifts reveal serious horsepower. In an already gifted group, these two rise to the top.
There’s more carnality in Sama from Andrea Miller, founder of New York City’s Gallim. Threads of eastern spirituality shoot to the fore – some sharp, some glib – as the stage fills with supple, thrusting bodies. Miller’s choreography, a comment on what she calls the “apocalypse of the body” in the digital age, revels in the grotesque, drawing in creaturely convulsions and freakish warped frames. Glimpsed through a blood-red haze, the effect is staggering, heightened by the pounding score and the dancers’ self-possession. But much like Spivey’s piece, it’s a question of enthusiastic dance jostling against distracting flourishes (in this case stilts, smoke and a bizarre musical epilogue).
Another triple bill opened in London last week, this one from Northern Ballet, looking sharp and distinctive in three short works. It’s a format that suits the company’s wide touring schedule, as well as its diverse audiences, and has prompted some memorable additions to the repertoire over the years, including David Nixon’s Powerhouse Rhumba.
With its charming, revelatory portrait of Mozart’s sister Nannerl, Morgann Runacre-Temple’s The Kingdom of Back underscores the resonance of female storytelling on the male-dominated stage. The work considers Nannerl’s predicament as a talented musician screwed by the patriarchy and left trailing in the wake of her prodigious brother. Antoinette Brooks-Daw brings a compelling buoyancy to the lead role, bobbing her head as she deploys elastic extensions and voluptuous port de bras. Runacre-Temple’s choreography is playful, but tension thrives, first in a wistful solo that illuminates Nannerl’s haut-monde station in life (Marie Antoinette beehive included) and, later, in sweeping group numbers that lay bare the imperious influence of her father (Javier Torres, sporting a chilly glare). Frank Moon’s characteristically quirky soundtrack is a joy.
In Mamela, from company member Mlindi Kulashe, narrative takes a back seat to emotion – fear and hope in particular. There are intriguing shapes at work here, the dancers finessing the ever-blurring line between ballet and contemporary dance. It’s possibly overlong, but standout performances abound, including a long-limbed solo from Sean Bates, his torso tugged into contractions by invisible threads.
Choreographer in residence Kenneth Tindall brings further abstract artistry with his latest work, The Shape of Sound, an ode to Vivaldi’s The Four Seasons. The ballet is alight with friskiness, helped along by the postmodern twangs of Max Richter’s 2012 recomposition. A coltish prance in the upstage lights is a definite highlight, as is the fizzing grand allegro of the finale. The ensemble phrases shine brightest, delivering the flamboyant glamour for which these baroque compositions scream out.
