A bold and exciting declaration from a company in their prime
The theatre was packed; the audience buzzed with excitement to see Rambert’s latest show. Their programme boldly proclaims: ‘We’re 100 and we’re just getting started.’ The piece is made up of three vignettes, each by a different choreographer, each incredibly varied, which offer a sample of what Rambert sees as their future.
The show began with ‘In Crimson’, choreographed by Bobbi Jene Smith and Or Schraiber. A dancer is seated on one extreme of the stage; a pianist is at the other. Behind them looms a plush red curtain, creating a decadent and intimate space which became a character in its own right. In this piece, the seven dancers are found in pairs, threes, alone, or flocked in a large group, caught in an embrace. It is lyrical and beautiful, and the athleticism of the dancers is impressive. Nadav Barnea’s simple lighting evokes a nostalgic theatricality. Altogether, though, this was the weakest of the three pieces, with not quite enough substance to sustain it throughout. Although there were some comedic moments (such as two men sizing each other up until they became gorillas), the audience was unsure in their laughter, as if it wasn’t clear that they had permission.
By far the strongest of the three pieces was Hop(e)storm, a mash-up of lindy hop and 90s rave created by (LA)HORDE. What begins as dancers throwing themselves at their partners across a hostile, empty space becomes a kind of barn dance meets Berghain. Dancers whirl around again and again to snippets of Elvis and pounding techno beats. Eric Wurtz’s lighting impressed here, with flashing reds and greens concealing the details of the dancers, making their movements a blur of frenetic energy. The whole piece forced you to focus not on individual dancers, but rather on the collective movement of the whole.
The final of the trio was ‘Gallery of Consequence’ by choreographer Emma Evelein. Coming back after the interval, the stark industrial emptiness of the stage had been seamlessly replaced with a minimal staging of an airport, with customer service desks, uncomfortable chairs and an imposing departures board projected over the performers’ heads. This vignette took a far more narrative turn, focusing on individual stories of love and betrayal, missed flights, and gossipy airline staff. Dancers floated through scenes wheeling luggage, and there was just enough going on to make it feel like a real snapshot of a liminal space. You couldn’t take it all in all at once- and that was a real strength of it, the busyness compelling viewers to focus their attention on different relationships.
All in all, it was a compelling composition which reaffirms Rambert’s reputation for excellence in all they do.