John Neumeier was Artistic Director at Hamburg Ballet from 1973 until last summer. The rather imposing proposition of taking over the reigns falls to Demis Volpi, previously of Ballett am Rhein, and the young, new boss has wasted no time in enriching the company's repertoire with some fresh and explosive new choreographies for its audiences.
Slow Burn is an evocative evening of two halves. Aszure Barton’s work, from which the programme gets its name, is a brooding and meandering piece; a loose narrative focuses on the journeys of two women and the challenges they face amongst an ensemble who veer from fast and thunderous to slow and still. William Forsythe’s Blake Works V continues an endeavour which first began in the pandemic and brilliantly utilises the lilting voice of James Blake.
Barton’s work is a full length piece, just under an hour in running time. Although it has some watchable qualities; the flaming orange costumes (Michelle Jank) with skirts that billow, the rhythmical stamps of the choreography and the calmly executed lifts and throws of the two central women, there is too much filler between the main sections that allows the audience to tune out. The action ebbs and flows, at one moment the full ensemble rushing towards us in unison, against urgent strings of Ambrose Akinmusire’s score, and the next fading away to focus on the quiet bond between the two women.
I was quite taken by the connection between the two “Wise Women” Silvia Azzoni and Madoka Sugai who are strong and athletic protagonists. They bring stability to the wider group, who initially drag themselves across the stage using their hands in the shadow of their more regal counterparts. The interplay between Azzoni and Sugai is joyful, bouncing off each other, aloft on the shoulders of the men, but it’s not all fun and games. We see them as the resilient pillar for the group too, at one point pulling the entire ensemble across the stage with their hands like a reverse tug of war.
Slow Burn is a fiery take on the power of women and female friendship but perhaps an overlong way to get there. Jank’s costumes are bright and distinctive, but the excessive fabric swamps the dancers and aesthetically it would be better if we could see more than hands and feet. At the curtain call, Azzoni and Sugai embrace tightly, physically the work is demanding but there is a sense of joy from them dancing it, less a slow burn, but a soft glow for sure.
The beautiful simplicity of William Forsythe’s choreography will never get old, and Blake Works V, perfectly encapsulates this, devised when artists were keeping themselves going with daily classes via Zoom in their kitchen. An empty stage save for a single barre at the back and dancers dressed in black jerseys and leotards, armed with just lethal technique are, somehow, still able to thrill us.
We start without the barre, however, with a prologue to Lindisfarne I, a rather mournful vocal with a distorted audio with dancers offering a kind of warm up pas de deux. The women wear pointe shoes here but curiously don’t for the rest of the piece, perhaps allowing them greater agility when the music gets more “poppy”.
When things get going, The Barre Project section is where the dancers come into their own. Futaba Ishizaki and Charlotte Larzelere relish each step of Forsythe’s complex vocabulary, it’s fast, quirky and so much fun to watch. Dancers come and go, soloists and duets, so that the whole thing melts together. The men deliver too, with Alexandr Trusch and Aleix Martinez springing through the steps. Every position and every line is so clean, the whole thing is exquisitely danced and the audience can feel the joy of the dancers gifted with this material.
There are no thrills when it comes to the staging, the only small flourish coming towards the end, in 200 Press, when Ana Torrequebrada dons a glittery version of the black jerseys worn by the men. The music has found its groove by then and the footwork is faster, she and her partner are flying, all straight legs and flicks of the wrist, it almost feels like it could be a Strictly Cha Cha.
All this and then it’s over before we know it. The programme says 35 minutes but it feels shorter. At the curtain call, the audience is vocal but there are murmurings – the music won’t be to everyone’s taste – but I don’t think they will be averse to seeing more Forsythe on the Staatsoper stage soon.
