Acosta Danza brings Cuban physicality and Baroque elegance together in an evening where the search for perfection becomes a dance of its own.
There is something intriguing and contradictory about Cuban Baroque, presented by Carlos Acosta’s Acosta Danza at Sadler’s Wells. On one side, you have the structure, symmetry and precision of Baroque music, and on the other, the restless energy and freedom of Cuban dance. One might expect these worlds to compete. Instead, their meeting creates a fascinating tension between discipline and instinct, control and abandon.
The evening opens with Pearls, choreographed by Andonis Foniadakis, a piece seemingly obsessed with the possibilities and limitations of the human body. Against a simple stage, the dancers create moving tableaux, reminiscent of grand Baroque paintings in a museum. Except here, the figures refuse to remain still. They twist, collide, separate and regroup, as though the subjects of an old master had suddenly escaped their frames.
There is an interesting contradiction in the emotional language of the piece. Baroque music, despite its complexity and occasional melancholy, often carries a sense of joy and exuberance. Yet Pearls offers surprisingly little of that joy. Instead, there is urgency, tension and something approaching desperation. The dancers seem engaged in a collective struggle to discover the perfect form, only to dismantle it once achieved. It becomes a wild search for something that remains just beyond reach.
Nicolas Fischtel’s lighting adds another dimension. At times reminiscent of the laser grids of electronic music concerts, sharp lines impose geometric order upon the stage. Yet rather than containing the dancers, these boundaries seem to inspire rebellion. The performers appear not to respect the grid but to escape it. Much like music itself, movement cannot truly be captured or confined.
The second half, Goyo Montero’s Chacona, offers a change of atmosphere. Set to Bach, with live musical accompaniment, it allows a more intimate relationship between sound and movement. Where Pearls is driven by a restless search for an elusive ideal, Chacona finds beauty in the relationship between individual bodies and the group. The choreography feels more restrained, without losing its emotional intensity.
Throughout both pieces, the technical ability of Acosta Danza’s performers is extraordinary. Their strength, stamina and precision are evident, particularly when the entire ensemble moves in astonishing proximity. Yet what impresses most is the lightness with which they carry such physical effort.
Compared with the controlled elegance of classical ballet, there is something wonderfully liberating about their movement. Hair flies loose, torsos bend and bodies seem swept away by their own momentum. At moments, the dancers appear almost possessed by the choreography, rather than simply performing it. This is not a rejection of technique but perhaps its most exciting expression: making immense discipline look like complete freedom.
And therein lies the achievement of Cuban Baroque. It is not simply the meeting of two artistic traditions or an attempt to make classical music contemporary. It explores what happens when the human body, with all its impulses and imperfections, confronts the desire for perfect form.
The result is not always joyful, but it is visually arresting, thoughtful and a reminder that perfection in dance may be far less interesting than the struggle to reach it.
Cuban Baroque’s run at Sadler’s Wells ends tomorrow – Tickets here.