Very occasionally, we are lucky enough to see a performance whereby all the production elements come together to create something absolutely remarkable: an experience that exceeds expectations, feels inclusive and leaves you wondering how on earth it was achieved. Canadian born Jill Johnson’s Analogue, for Rambert, was just such an event and it's probably the best hour you will ever spend.
What started off last year as a workshop has blossomed into an installation and, in partnership with Stone Nest and the Southbank Centre, has given Rambert’s dancers and audiences something of substance that was exhilarating to watch. Stone Nest is an interesting venue in the heart of London’s West End and one which does not pretend to compete with the surrounding theatres. There is no stage and the audience sits on all four sides of the performance space. As a former Presbyterian church, the Grade II Listed building does not feel like a place of sanctity, yet the atmosphere is spiritual. One senses very much the collaborative efforts and togetherness that it allows.
As the audience filtered in, the dancers warmed up, unbothered by the steady stream of people crossing over them to find a seat. The close proximity of the company turned out to be pivotal to the success of the evening. Imagine being so close to the performers that you can touch them, hear them breathe, see the rivulets of sweat increasing as the work becomes ever more strenuous. And imagine what it must be like to know that every move, every twitch of your fingers or eye movement, is being scrutinised by a bunch of onlookers who expect to be transported.
Johnson explains in a press release that “We remember wanting to gather when we could not”. The premise for the work is that it should be a sensory experience – one where it is the physicality, the notion that you can almost touch but not quite, and yet feel the chemistry. The way this translated choreographically and was interpreted by the superlative dancers of Rambert was simply sensational.
The performance opened with the cast of 14 dancers walking around the space, sometimes in pairs, changing direction, but all at a steady pace, and it morphed into a duet for Aishwarya Raut and Naya Lovell. Later they were joined and supplanted by Simone Damberg-Wurtz and four men. The impetus built and movements reflected the ever-changing beat and mood of David Poe’s excellent percussive score. Lighting by Richard Williamson echoed the music and movement in equal measure.
The intensity with which the dancers worked was in evidence from the opening bars of the music. Not once did any of them lose concentration and make eye contact with the audience. The effect was that we were entirely drawn into their world, acutely feeling the strength of their emotions, the potency of their physical demands. As the moods evolved, from serious and sad to smiling and warm toward one another, the gamut of those sensations was felt instinctively by the audience. Talk about an immersive experience!
Choreographically, it is possible to discern that Johnson has worked for William Forsythe for more than than two decades. She has clearly absorbed much from the great choreographer. But this is not Forsythe. Johnson has found her own way of expressing emotion through movement. And yes, this was an abstract piece (officially) but my goodness, this was living the moment, feeling the tension, reacting to every impulse, and weirdly, definitely had an emotional narrative.
No matter how intelligent or gifted Johnson is (and she is) or how brilliant Poe’s music is (and it is), it was the dancers that made me short of breath. It’s a long time since I have felt this excited by a project. The energy, athleticism, the ability to manifest thought processes through the body was frankly astounding. I applaud each and every one of them but if I had to pick out someone who blew the roof off that old chapel, it was Aishwarya Raut. From the minute I saw her, I felt compelled to watch her. Extraordinary.
Benoit Swan Pouffer, Rambert’s artistic director is making great decisions and Rambert is at its sublime best.
