A return to the Teatro Romano to see the European premiere of Sons of Echo, a programme devised and curated by Daniil Simkin, brought a diverse range of choreography, all by women. The title is a reference to the Greek nymph Echo, who was famously silenced by the self-absorbed Narcissus. In other words, the male dancers on stage were hoping to present a more sensitive, less entitled side to themselves.
If there was a certain way to guarantee this persuasion, it was by watching the six dancers warm themselves up on stage prior to the show. Simkin, Osiel Gouneo, Alban Lendorf, Siphesihle November, Daniel Domenech and Johnny McMillan achieved this within a few minutes of their barre. Camaraderie was the name of the game. Back-patting, wishing each other luck, joking whilst stretching and tendu-ing (a lot of very pointy feet!), took the extraordinary and made it look day-to-day.
As the metaphorical curtain went up, ballet master Tomas Karlborg, who is very much part of the team, strode onto the stage and announced that he was going to put them through their paces during centre work. Thus we were treated to the best bits of class, so often hidden from the public, executed by some of the most accomplished dancers in the world. Karlborg was quite the entertainer, setting the steps to familiar tunes (with Cristiano Grifone on the piano) and adding his own flourishes and humour. It may have been a good preparation for the dancers but it was also a great way to win over an already invested audience.
What was different about this programme was that it was distinctly off the well-trodden star gala route. No standard showpieces; all contemporary dance; all designed to listen to the female voice. It was a breath of fresh air.
The opening piece was Lucinda Childs’ Notes. Created in 2025 to celebrate her 85th birthday, it was a series of dances to music by Matteo Myderwyk that demonstrated how simplicity and purity can be just as rewarding as the complicated tricks of the trade. I am not trying to assert that any of the sequences were easy, but they were unfettered by fussy classical restrictions. Lendorf, Gouneo, Domenech and November swept the stage with clean, geometrical lines. Costumes (Amy Page) of white, wide legged trousers, added to the sense of broad brush strokes. The men glanced and smiled at each other, reinforcing rapport and support without a hint of competitive spirit.
Drew Jacoby’s Jack (2019) followed a brief interval and was probably the most innovative piece of the evening. Gouneo, Lendorf, Simkin and McMillan, decked out in black and fluorescent green or orange, mixed and matched classically based steps with robotic moves, jazzy flair, contemporary invention. The inspiration was the music including Gershwin’s Preludes among others. What it primarily did was enhance all the natural attributes of the cast and show them off in a new light. This is the gift of an astute choreographer. Each of them, working together and alone, seduced a captive audience.
Will You Catch My Fall by Anne Plamondon to an original composition by Ouri was a further step toward showing male vulnerability. McMillan, after a very quick change, together with November deftly negotiated the art of connection and empathy. A woman’s voice indicated that they should “touch, touch, touch, collapsing, arm, head, chest, hips, whole body” – allowing a ‘rescue’ moment for each man. Movingly danced, it was a sincere and powerful addition to the programme.
The final item of the evening included a live performance of two time Grammy Award winner Gregory Porter. Earlier this year Tiler Peck created a piece to Porter’s Real Truth. Simkin, Gouneo and Lendorf proceeded to bend the classical rules, deliciously skimming the floor or cutting through the air. Gouneo and Simkin narrowly avoided a collision in a series of coupé jetés travelling both clockwise and anticlockwise. Porter’s velvety voice was the final piece of a magical jigsaw.
I occasionally wanted to be surprised by a pirouette or a double saut de basque rather than witnessing a solid preparation enface, indicating the inevitable. These dancers are masters of technique and would no doubt respond accordingly if they were told to ditch the conventional preparation.
In spite of these observations, audiences want to be thrilled and this was certainly the order of the day. Hats off to all six dancers – unshockable me, still wrote ‘WOW’ a number of times in my notebook. Next stop London?
Deborah’s trip was funded by the Festival dei Due Mondi di Spoleto
