Michael Clark’s latest programme of dance is created to a mixed bag of music. Starting sedately with sculptured shapes set against the four piano studies by Erik Satie that are known collectively as the Ogives; before moving into a triptych of Patti Smith punk rock songs, shaped in movement against an adaption of Charles Atlas’ Painting by Numbers art installation; it concludes with a memorable tribute to the music of David Bowie in the enigmatically entitled, my mother, my dog and Clowns !, which I understand to be taken from a Bowie lyric.
Now 54, Clark’s name is followed by an acronym that represents the height of the British Establishment; he, having been appointed Commander of the British Empire, back in 2014, for services to dance. Clark may have reached this stage of public recognition just shy of a knighthood but he retains – thankfully – an iconoclastic image. Although, touchingly, this “wild child” of British dance still thanks his mum and dad (Bessie and Bill), in the programme.
The bared bums and brash punkery, which made his mark, in highly theatrical, often deconstructed and always visually spectacular works, from the 1980s onwards, have now given way to more measured, sedate, almost reverential movement that sculpts beautiful shapes in the interaction of bodies and space.
The opening work, in particular, appears to reflect choreographic influences that impacted upon Clark’s own development: we see shades of Frederick Ashton (especially from the two Monotones duets, also set to Satie’s music in the more familiar Gymnopédies and Gnossiennes) and Yvonne Rainer (whose own work, Three Satie Spoons – also set to the Trois Gymnopédies - is clearly referenced in Clark’s Satie Suds/Ogives Composite). But, for me, this opening number to Satie appears more as a tribute to Merce Cunningham – with one MC celebrating another – to such an extent that if I had seen it without a choreographic credit I might have assumed it to be by Cunningham.
To be slightly brutal, the first few minutes were not performed well. A work that relies on shape to convey its message must be articulated robustly so that the intended sculptured forms are received by the audience, as intended. Unfortunately, there were significant balancing problems (especially from the girls) and the resultant wobbles diminished the choreography's initial impact. The eight dancers are dressed in tight bodysuits – black up to just under the chest and white above, to the neckline – giving the image of extreme high-waisted trousers. Harry Alexander is impressive here – and later – with none of those balancing problems and, instead, a security of strength that is put to frequent use in several lifts and holds. For a big guy, he runs as if weightless.