Music and dance: an age-old relationship. More often that not, however, the dance comes after the music, the choreography subservient to the musical structure, moulded and shaped by it. It is rare therefore to find a musical work that has been composed specifically for a particular choreography: Counter Phrases is such a rare case.
A formidable influence for over 30 years, Anne Teresa De Keersmaeker’s choreography has become representative of an art going beyond its perceived bounds, completely rethinking the innate traditions. It is unsurprising that De Keersmaeker and Steve Reich have, over the years, bonded artistically, creating on several occasions works that explore both the musical and rhythmic but also physical domains, going beyond the mere constraints of “music and dance”. Created in 2003, Counter Phrases is the result of a collaboration between Reich, De Keersmaeker and the musician/cinematographer Thierry De Mey, aiming to reverse the traditional subservience to the music by offering a dance choreography filmed by De Mey to a selection of composers, in the hopes of creating an artistic dialogue between the music, dance and film. These composers included Steve Reich, Fausto Romitelli, Robin De Raaff, Jonathan Harvey, Luca Francesconi, Thierry De Mey, and even the famous kora-player Ballaké Sissoko: on paper, a fascinating project to say the least.
Though greeted by a disappointingly small crowd, the Mulhouse Symphony Orchestra and its conductor Laurent Cuniot seemed eager nonetheless to get under way. Full of frantic textures and almost visceral harmonies, De Raaff’s opening movement, “Orphic Descent”, seemed immediately at odds with the smoother, more graceful gestures and movements from the dancers on the screen. Although De Keersmaeker’s choreography is more energetic and unpredictable than “pretty” or “classical”, the musical connection felt nonetheless hard to accept. Unfortunately, this was the case with the more contemporary works, such as those by Jonathan Harvey and Luca Francesconi, accompanying De Keersmaeker’s choreography with sharp, uncomforting atonal music. Though in any other context, such music has its place like any other, when accompanying graceful dancers performing a minimalist dance choreography in sunny fields of grass or in forests, the combination feels entirely odd. Whilst reading previous interviews with the composers, many admitted to having switched off the film, focusing instead simply on the breathing of the dancers (a sound unfortunately barely audible during the concert) or the pace of the dancers' footsteps. De Raaff, for example, was more inspired by the physical descent of a staircase by the dancer, evoking for him Orpheus' own hellish descent, than the dancing itself. A shame that one third of the artistic material was seemingly ignored, or at least made secondary.