Sarcasmen, a 45-year-old masterpiece by Hans van Manen, provided both inspiration and title for this triple bill as well as the centre point between two new works that satirised the dire macro politics of today. The engagement of emerging choreographers born in Russia and Israel served to accentuate these global insecurities.
A tongue-in-cheek look at the world’s decline was a courageous statement that was successfully achieved with intriguing subtlety. Both Andrey Kaydanovskiy and Eyal Dadon showed fascinating creativity in concept and significant originality in their movement language, and while van Manen’s vintage capsule of neoclassical irony served as the glue holding the programme together, neither of its bookends seemed out of kilter with his conceptual and choreographic excellence.
Although Kaydanovskiy is Russian by birth, he has spent most of his life in Vienna, from where he has publicly spoken out against the invasion of Ukraine. The title of his new work, …And How Is Your Life? emphasises that, in many cultures, the question is asked in the certain knowledge of a sarcastic response. For example, it might be asked of someone after a messy breakup not to find out how the person is but to elicit the juicy back story!
The unusual staging had a squared backdrop that ran across the stage and down, like a slide, into the (thankfully, empty) orchestra pit and periodically, performers rolled off the stage. Costumes contrasted shapeless whitish overcoats with colourful leotards and corsetry (Kristina Kornová’s red corset represented her given role of “rage” very effectively). When the raincoats were removed to reveal the vivid leotards it seemed like transitions into superheroes (in the manner of Superman).
Kaydanovskiy used an eclectic soundtrack that suggested O Brother, Where Art Thou? meeting the Sex Pistols with country & western instrumentals introducing and ending the work that also contained numbers by Bow Wow Wow and Django Reinhardt in the mix. The choreography began with simple, small steps and rocking motions after which the overcoated ensemble donned dark glasses, although one woman was left without a pair. Fast forward 30 minutes to the end and she had found them, but none of her colleagues had theirs. Make of that what you will.
There were several opportunities for the more exotically costumed dancers to shine in individually themed dances, the most arresting of which was a female duet for Alexandra Pera (as “joy”, in a lemon lace outfit) and Kristýna Němečková (as “rancour”, in pink).
Sarcasmen is both a dance duet and a performance trio since the onstage pianist is fully engaged in expressive interaction with the dancers. Anna McBride was a fixture at The Royal Opera House before relocating to Prague and her excellent delivery of the eponymous Prokofiev piano pieces brought added drama to van Manen’s choreography. The duet is a sex comedy with the man (Paul Irmatov) and woman (Romina Contreras) watching each other perform in an “anything you can do; I can do better” game. Eventually they succumbed to a sexual interlude (van Manen didn’t hold back in his portrayal of their missionary coupling) but even this intimacy fails to improve the mutual sarcasm in their turbulent relationship. It’s a smart capsule of human observation and a great bonus was the presence of the choreographer himself, still sprightly at 92!
Both new works focused on thematic moments of symbolism rather than obvious narrative intent. Dadon’s Katastrof followed Sarcasmen with a pause rather than an interval, but that interlude was covered by the dancers in the final piece (eventually numbering 23) sitting on the edge of the stage, crossing and uncrossing their legs in synchronicity, initially humming to the accompanying music and gradually rising into full-throated singing. This simple but effective means of covering the stage transition behind them also allowed Irmatov and Contreras to recover their composure between performances.
Structurally, this is a very energetic ensemble work with Dadon’s movement strategy focused on patterns of synchronicity amongst a uniform group all dressed in black (each costume differentiated by the amount of sparkle it contained) but often offset by one background dancer doing the opposite to the group dynamic. An upstage set for a heavy metal band was occasionally occupied by dancers, seemingly playing the instruments, which was either an excellent illusion or yet more evidence of a multi-talented ensemble.
There were many repetitive movement motifs in the choreography (one I dubbed the “overhead buttering of toast”), each of which seemed innovative at first but, if I’m brutally honest, the final five minutes seemed to possess nothing new in the movement language, although I did like the emphatic ending.
Kudos to Filip Barankiewicz for brave programming of new work by choreographers, not yet in the super league (although both evidencing the credentials to get there soon). It has paid off handsomely with an outstanding programme of intriguing new dance enveloping a late twentieth century gem. I highly recommend it.
Graham's travel and accommodation were partly funded by Czech National Ballet
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