Tag: dance

REVIEW: The Rite of Spring

Published on by alexnorm14Leave a comment

Rating: 5 out of 5.

The type of show you pray will never end.

Dewey Dell’s The Rite of Spring is sensational. A visual wonder, the performance explores the never-ending cycle of life and death against the backdrop of Igor Stravinsky’s dramatic scores. Through consistent experimentation with the metamorphosis of human beings, Dewey Dell has crafted an entirely original style. This is a must-see show.

There is nothing human about The Rite of Spring. Teodora and Agata Castelluci’s choreography pushes the boundaries of contemporary dance. Fusing modern and classical techniques with breaking, they have created an entirely original style perfectly suited to the intensity of Stravinsky’s scores. Their choreography is very shape-based. Individual bodies create photographic moments with the costumes and fabrics, but it is the collective shapes that are most memorable. The four dancers fit together like pieces of a puzzle to build impressive, not quite shapes, but moving creatures. It is strange and at times grotesque, yet you’ll find yourself afraid to blink because it would be a crime to miss even a moment.

The set designer, Lidia Trecento of Laboratorio scenografia Pesaro, and the costume designer, Guoda Jaruševičiūtė of Dewey Dell, deserve awards for their work on The Rite of Spring. Trecento’s set transported the audience to a whole other world, suddenly we were underground with the bugs. Dancers came crawling out of the woodwork, but in Jaruševičiūtė’s costumes they were indistinguishable from the critters they portrayed; the maggot costume was especially realistic, almost disturbingly so when paired with the dancers’ perfect embodiment of the creatures’ physicality.

The dancers of Dewey Dell are extraordinary. Teodora Castellucci, Agata Castellucci, Demetrio Castellucci, and Vito Matera are at the forefront of contemporary dance. From the opening scene, just from the movements of a worm inching across the stage, the strength and muscular control of the cast was apparent. To then have that very Modern soloist followed by a pair of exceptional breakdancers’ was genius. The b-boys were one of the highlights of the show; the speed, the complexity of their choreography, and their playfulness was mesmerizing.

A haze hung in the air, lending the theatre an eerie mystique. This haze would have been a pleasant addition to the show, had the lighting not been as dim as it was for much of the show. While I understand that it is meant to mimic lighting in underground tunnels, it hid some of the finer details and made it so that you had to strain your eyes. Apart from the haze and the occasional painfully loud section of music, there is not a fault within this show.

The Rite of Spring is a transformative experience. Life, death, change, and all that’s in between explored at its most base level. It is intelligent, flawlessly staged, energetically performed, and unnervingly realistic. Dewey Dell have created a modern day masterpiece. Get comfortable being uncomfortable and delve into the mystifying world of Dewey Dell’s The Rite of Spring.

GISELLE... - une pièce de François Gremaud avec Samantha van Wissen sur une musique de Luca Antignani. Théâtre de Vidy, Lausanne, le 06 janvier 2021. ©Dorothée Thébert Filliger

FEATURE: Dance Reflections by Van Cleef & Arpels: Celebrating Choreographic Excellence Worldwide

Published on by Tabitha JamesLeave a comment

Dance Reflections by Van Cleef & Arpels Festival continues to celebrate the fusion of dance and artistic heritage across the globe. Since its debut in London in 2022, the festival has expanded internationally, with editions in Hong Kong, New York, Kyoto, and Saitama, each presenting a captivating blend of contemporary and historical dance works alongside artist forums, workshops, and film screenings.

Each edition reflects a unique facet of Van Cleef & Arpels’ creative journey. London initiated a dialogue between dance and jewelry, exemplified by The Art of Movement exhibition showcasing jewelry pieces capturing movement. Hong Kong highlighted artistic diversity, while New York explored the city’s pivotal role in both dance history and the Maison’s legacy. The Japanese edition paid tribute to the Maison’s long-standing fascination with the Far East, emphasizing cultural influences and creative exchange.

The upcoming London edition will further explore Van Cleef & Arpels’ heritage, featuring collaborations with prestigious institutions such as Sadler’s Wells, Royal Ballet and Opera, Tate Modern, and Southbank Centre. Audiences can anticipate landmark performances, including Working Title by Trisha Brown, Beach Birds by Merce Cunningham, and Giselle… by François Gremaud. The program will also introduce new works by Jules Cunningham, Pam Tanowitz, and emerging artists from P.A.R.T.S.

Through these diverse performances and initiatives, the festival upholds the Maison’s values of creation, transmission, and education, bridging choreographic heritage with contemporary expression while inspiring global audiences.

The festival runs from the 12th March to 8th April

REVIEW: Until We Sleep

Published on by arrankemp7Leave a comment

Rating: 3.5 out of 5.

Free-form spirituality meets ever-present reality in Botis Seva’s follow-up.

Botis Seva and his company ‘Far from the Norm’ have burst onto the contemporary dance scene with their hip-hop, free form, theatrically infused dance pieces. Particularly during the beginning of the 2020s, Seva’s output has been highlighted as some of the best coming out of London and now having been recognised as an Associate Artist of Sadler’s Wells, Seva has cemented himself as a heavyweight in the UK’s theatre dance world.

There has been much anticipation for the follow-up to BLKDOG, Norm’s 2022 hip hop dance piece, which was widely praised, exploring the ‘vicious connection of how self-discovery leads to self-destruction’. Seva makes a significant departure from this, as his 2024 show ‘Until We Sleep’ leans heavily into the theatrical and less into the hip hop. Watching at the Lowry in Salford, we follow a warrior (Victoria Shulungu) grappling with her symbolic power over those around her and her impending responsibility to her spiritual forefathers. It ultimately explores the threshold between spirituality and reality, what we withstand while we live and what we toil for when we die. 

As the music becomes less rhythmic, so does Seva’s choreography. The seven performers often move mechanically, Torben Lars Sylvest’s creaking soundscapes pushing them along. For me, this reflects expectation, that need to keep moving to fulfil responsibility. At times this is ominous, a repeating motif of what sounds like a door opening slowly and painfully – is this the passageway opening through the threshold, a blurring of spiritual and physical landscapes? 

While the sound is certainly effective, Tom Visser’s lighting design stands peerless to anything else. Mercurial yet expertly prescribed, Visser never fails to find just the right illumination for the right meaning. Dramatic pools of smoky light appear and disappear, hues of gold and blue rise slowly and reveal pockets of the stage not seen before. A particular highlight is the opening sequence of different tableaus dramatically appear in and out of vision.

Visser’s bars of lights cascade down the walls of the space. They are incredibly versatile, shifting their identity constantly. Raindrops, the night sky, the voice of an ancient tree god, it felt like these bars could do anything. But most importantly, they physicalise the threshold, the spiritual gods and demons (characterised fantastically by Ryan Laight’s feathered and monstrous costumes) often operating in the murky depths behind the barrier, whilst their presence locks the performers in the performance space.

So, although the piece’s creative features work well in tandem, the piece’s questions feel just too hard to grasp. Not only are there multiple strands to understand, but the choreography is often too abstract and complex to offer any visceral response, instead eliciting an intellectual one. Unfortunately, the most effective moments often come when Seva’s choreography isn’t tethered so much to meaning and become less stylistic. These were often up-tempo where sound, light, and dance gloriously harmonised, and the audience wasn’t subjected to so much drama and reflection. Often, it’s nice just to experience the beauty and wonder of a good dance sequence. It feels like this piece is really trying to say something universal to the human experience, but it just isn’t stark enough.

REVIEW: Nutcracker

Published on by Lucy HolzLeave a comment

Rating: 4 out of 5.

A bold reimagining of a Christmas classic  

Performed worldwide at Christmastime, The Nutcracker is perhaps the most popular  of all the story ballets. With breathtaking music from Tchaikovsky, this ballet is iconic and thus a prime canvas for choreographers eager to make a name for themselves.  

The Nutcracker follows the story of Clara, an aristocratic child gifted a nutcracker for  Christmas Eve. When the Nutcracker comes alive she is transported into a world of  danger and delights, only to be whisked home just in time for Christmas.  

This most recent reworked version from English National Ballet, is a collaboration  between the artistic director Aaron S. Watkin and choreographer Arielle Smith. Their  creation leans heavily into the traditional British pantomime style, producing the  perfect Christmas ballet for kids.  

The first act includes some unique and very unballet-like choreography, with dancers  gyrating and thrusting their heads forward in a way very reminiscent of La Fille mal  gardée’s beloved chickens. At times it is difficult to ascertain if the younger dancers  are unskilled or if these forced mechanical moves just make them appear so.  

Fortunately, the second act proves the latter, as Watkin and Smith opt for more  traditional choreography that the dancers gratefully sink their teeth into. Emma Hawes is an ethereal Sugar Plum Fairy surrounded by an array of delicious sounding exotic sweets. Erik Woolhouse plays a charming Ukrainian roll, seamlessly showing  off his gravity-defying leaps and bounds.  

Rhys Antoni Yeomans does an admirable job remaining balanced while dancing the  role of Nutcracker Doll with a large fake head atop his neck, bringing us a dramatic  and dynamic battle with the Rat King (James Streeter). France’s Gabriele Frola plays  the Nutcracker Prince, a doll transformed by Clara’s heroics on the battlefield. Strong  and suave, Frola makes a fitting companion for the future queen of the kingdom.  

The real show stealer is the intricate costuming and magnificent set by Dick Bird.  Bird continues the beloved ballet tradition of high-budget, awe-inspiring sets, holding  nothing back in his creations, showing us everything from colourful Edwardian  streets to the vibrant Land of Sweets and Delights. Costumes are just as exciting if a  little more modern, with the Ice Queen and her snowflakes resembling the ‘Beauty School Dropout’ chorus in Grease. Some costumes reveal a little more than intended  during some of the more ambitious lifts, giving merit to the more modest construction  of the traditional tutu. 

Although ballet traditionalists may be left chuckling at some of the more unique  artistic decisions, this is the perfect ballet for children. With new characters, huge sets  and colourful costumes, this is the ultimate festive day out for young families.

The Nutcracker plays at the London Coliseum until the 12th January 2025.

RAD receives Sir Kenneth MacMillan’s archive: A priceless ballet legacy preserved

Published on by Tabitha James1 Comment

The Royal Academy of Dance (RAD) announced the acquisition of the Kenneth MacMillan Archive, a monumental collection that offers an intimate look into the life and career of one of the 20th century’s most pioneering choreographers. With works like Romeo and Juliet, Manon, Mayerling, and Requiem to his name, Sir Kenneth MacMillan reshaped the landscape of British ballet and left an indelible mark on the art form.

This new archive, generously gifted by Deborah, Lady MacMillan, spans over seven decades of MacMillan’s personal and professional life. It contains a diverse array of materials, including photographs, diaries, handwritten notes, and letters, offering a rich insight into both his creative process and the people he interacted with throughout his career. The collection covers everything from MacMillan’s early years as a dancer with the Sadler’s Wells Ballet (now The Royal Ballet) to his groundbreaking choreography and tenure as Artistic Director from 1970–1977 and Principal Choreographer until his death in 1992.

“There is no doubt that Kenneth’s creative genius contributed to the evolution of the art form of classical ballet,” said Dame Darcey Bussell, RAD President. “He put British ballet on the international map, drawing stars from around the world to work with him and perform his works. The RAD could not be more grateful to have the honour of holding Kenneth’s archive.” She also added that with the RAD’s world-class facilities, the archive would be preserved and made accessible in an inclusive and educational way for years to come.

The collection’s materials are as varied as MacMillan’s career itself. Early items include his Grade 1 ballet exam certificate from 1944, while later personal papers reveal his interests outside of dance, such as his passion for fantasy jewellery — a hobby he explored through exhibitions like the Jewels of Fantasy at the V&A. Among the most poignant pieces are letters from influential figures like Dame Ninette de Valois, Mikhail Baryshnikov, and Jiri Kylian, as well as photographs from MacMillan’s time as a dancer and choreographer. These images capture both his personal moments and the key rehearsals and performances of his ballets.

“Sir Kenneth MacMillan was a visionary choreographer whose work had a profound impact on the evolution of ballet,” reflected Dame Monica Mason, RAD Vice President and répétiteur to MacMillan in 1980. “This archive is a wonderful legacy for the RAD to receive and will not only shed light on Sir Kenneth’s creative process but enrich our understanding of his life and the cultural context in which he worked.”

For RAD Artistic Director, Alexander Campbell, receiving the MacMillan archive is a personal as well as professional highlight. “As a huge personal fan of Sir Kenneth MacMillan’s work, I am delighted that the RAD is to receive this archive,” he said. “A visionary choreographer who challenged the status quo and shaped our understanding of what ballet is and can be, the opportunity to gain further understanding about Sir Kenneth and his process is a gift to all.”

The archive will undergo a cataloguing project in 2025, after which it will be made available to the public for educational research. As part of its ongoing mission to preserve the history of British ballet, the RAD’s extensive collection — which already includes over 75,000 items spanning a century — remains a vital resource for dancers, choreographers, and scholars alike.

For more information on how to access the RAD’s archives, visit: RAD Archive and Library.

REVIEW: Nobodaddy

Published on by alexnorm14Leave a comment

Rating: 5 out of 5.

An avant garde masterpiece. 

Michael Keegan-Dolan’s Nobodaddy is mesmerizing. An unusual interpretation of William Blake’s poem of the same name, musicians and dancers come together in this ‘ode to peacemakers and bringers of good things’. I don’t think I’d ever be able to satisfactorily explain the plot, yet I know I loved every moment of it. If you enjoy dance, good music, or just like a little bit of weird, this is the show. 

Keegan-Dolan’s distinctive choreography is perfectly suited to the folk-rock music against which Nobodaddy is set. He’s crafted something that is unusual, rhythmic and playful. He incorporates aspects of the best of modern dance, one particular solo being very reminiscent of Lucinda Childs’s Carnation. His partnering is especially remarkable; it is athletic and heavy and a million miles away from traditional. 

The phrases have clearly been crafted for the dancers; solos and duets highlight each of the nine dancer’s movement style and they retain their individual artistry even during ensemble work. The choreography is joyous and fun but the faces of the performers rarely change and don’t express joy till near the end. There is a fascinating contrast between their expression and movement, making for a queer experience. 

Every dancer and musician brings themself to this performance. Rather than melding into an uniform collective, they fit together like pieces of a puzzle. The musicians and dancers have this sensational connection like limbs of a single being. There is a scene early on where three musicians command a dancer; the eye contact and vigor of the music floods the theatre with a palpable tension. 

The simple set is impactfully used, with dancers and musicians appearing on top of, hanging from, and inside the various pieces. The lighting design, by Adam Silverman, fits faultlessly into the performance. Doey Lüthi’s costuming choices are genius. Their work brings the show together; the masks worn in the beginning are wonderfully strange and the choice of the 80s-esque suits completes the odd experience. 

The music of Nobodaddy is beyond reproach. Sam Amidon and the collaborators who arranged and performed the music crafted an undeniably enjoyable auditory experience. Folk-rock plays with classical and choral. Amidon’s vocals are folksy and emotive, hauntingly so when melded with the beautiful vocals of the bassist. I enjoyed the choral numbers which used the entire cast; the entire theatre held its breath to listen. 

Watching Nobodaddy feels like stepping into uncanny valley. It begins with nothing overtly unusual apart from the lines of masked individuals along either side of the stage. The first few scenes are all rather mundane but they employ a queer sort of dry humour. There’s an undercurrent flowing through it all, like you’re waiting for something to happen. It is disconcerting but also mesmerizing; that is perhaps the best way to explain the show. 

Nobodaddy is remarkably and wonderfully weird.

REVIEW: The Picnic

Published on by Antonia Constantin2 Comments

Rating: 4 out of 5.

“Eva Recacha has created a world that is at once grotesque and beautiful, unsettling and deeply moving—a dream worth stepping into.”

When I first heard about Eva Recacha’s The Picnic, inspired by Hieronymus Bosch’s The Garden of Earthly Delights, I couldn’t help but think back to my introduction to Bosch as a child. My father’s 1969 Deep Purple record featured an image from Bosch’s infamous triptych, and I remember staring at the grotesque bird-headed prince of Hell swallowing sinners, trying to make sense of that strange, nightmarish world. That early fascination with Bosch’s surreal and chaotic universe prepared me, in some ways, for the dreamlike and unsettling experience of Recacha’s work.

Much like Bosch’s painting, The Picnic opens with a sense of distorted humanity. Despite the dancers’ human forms, their initial movements felt grotesque and unnatural, as though they were creatures just emerging into existence. Their slow, deliberate passage through the hollow middle of a large, round object seemed symbolic of birth or initiation, marking their transition into a new, surreal world. Once through, the dancers crawled along the floor, flattening themselves as though existing in a two-dimensional plane. Gradually, their movements gained depth and dimension, oscillating, drawing us into a space where the boundaries of the human body and its emotions felt blurred.

The group dynamics were captivating, as the dancers moved between moments of unison and scattered individuality across the stage’s stark white expanse. At times, their movements were playful and collaborative; at others, they exuded an eerie sensuality or a detached, humanoid quality. The interplay of synchronicity and chaos mirrored the tension in Bosch’s painting, where earthly pleasures coexist with darker undercurrents of sin and consequence.

The choreography was enriched by moments of spoken text, adding layers of meaning that hinted at a shared yet fragmented experience. The oranges, used as recurring props, became a visual metaphor for women—round, tactile, and symbolic of abundance or fragility. At one point, I found myself wondering whether the dancers themselves were metaphors for collective emotions, embodying the visceral sensations and experiences of a community of women.

Recacha’s collaboration with scenographer Kate Lane and composer Alberto Ruiz Soler brought The Picnic into a fully formed realm. The costumes, simple yet striking in their white and orange palette, tied the visual language of the piece to its themes of duality—light and shadow, simplicity and complexity. The soundscape was equally powerful, fluctuating between ethereal harmonies and dystopian beats, creating a world that oscillated between blissful serenity and the raw energy of a rave.

As the performance unfolded, moments of care and celebration emerged from the dreamlike chaos. The dancers’ interactions felt tender and communal, embodying themes of cooperation and mutual support. These moments brought warmth and humanity to the surreal feast.

The Picnic is a bold and vivid exploration of utopia and human connection. Much like Bosch’s The Garden of Earthly Delights, it invites us to reflect on the complexity of human desires and relationships. Eva Recacha has created a world that is at once grotesque and beautiful, unsettling and deeply moving—a dream worth stepping into.

REVIEW: Matthew Bourne’s Swan Lake – The Next Generation

Published on by Marianna Morante1 Comment

Rating: 5 out of 5.

“A mind blowing, beautiful interpretation of Tchaikovsky’s original”

On the 30th anniversary of Tchaikovsky’s original, Matthew Bourne’s Swan Lake: The Next Generation provides an innovative and exciting theatrical experience.

As someone who has had a love for ballet from a young age, I have seen basically every ballet imaginable at least once, but I was truly blown away by this interpretation of Swan Lake which was unlike anything I have seen before. The use of classical, neo classical and contemporary ballet techniques blended seamlessly together to create interesting and dynamic choreographic decisions which captured the audience’s attention the whole way through. Matthew Bourne continues to be an innovative practitioner in his field.

The all male Ensemble which replaces the traditional female Corp de ballet were phenomenal and remain a legendary aspect of Bourne’s repertoire. Their ability to embody the Swans in both their grace and physicality made the audience not only admire their beauty, but fear them in the later acts. The set and concept itself was wonderfully executed and fit into the story perfectly with nods to the original. My personal favourites were the ballet theatre featuring the box and the bar with themed Swan motif.

The stranger performed by Jackson Fisch, who should also be commended for his performance as the swan, represents the black swan in this interpretation and has a sequence of pas de deux with different characters on stage which was possibly my favourite section of the whole ballet. The contrast between the scene before and after his entrance ending in chaos was shocking to watch and his dynamic movements as a hyponotic and mysterious character were beautifully executed.

The ballet was engaging and took the audience on an emotional journey with comedic elements such as the character of the girlfriend and the corgi and the darker more psychological elements which can only be described as “nightmare fuel”. The swans in the final act becoming a thing of the Prince’s nightmares and appearing from the set almost like magic was unexpected and instilled the audience with morbid curiosity which was satisfied by the harrowing ending.

Many of the dancers within the company have trained with the New Adventures talent development program which supports training dancers from backgrounds with limited access to the arts. The work, dedication and passion put into this show by the production team and the dancers involved is evident to the audience.

Overall I was hugely inspired and impressed by this piece of work and would suggest this to anyone who wants to experience a unique and different interpretation of the winter classic. Matthew Bourne’s Swan Lake: The Next Generation is at the Lowry from the 19th- 30th of November.

REVIEW: Akram Khan’s GIGENIS: The Generation of the Earth

Published on by ayoungishperspective1Leave a comment

Rating: 5 out of 5.

GIGENIS transcends tradition at the same time that it honours it. It is a manual for picking up the pieces of our own dismantled world and putting them together again

I will start by saying that I have already purchased my ticket to see the show a second time. I will also add that, for me, that never happens.

Perhaps one of the most truthful pieces on any London stage today, GIGENIS: The Generation of the Earth is a testament to the importance of artistic tradition, particularly in its immense power to resonate deeply in our contemporary consciousness. Legendary choreographer, director, and dancer Akram Khan gifts us a piece of extraordinary texture – an epic tapestry woven from the strengths of a kaleidoscope of artists, all trained in different threads of classical Indian dance, theatre, and music.

The story is mythic in its proportions. Loosely based on the Mahabharata, it follows a woman (Kapila Venu) in the midst of war and profound grief. Seemingly in order to work through that grief, she backpedals to the beginning of her life and reflects on the way she saw the world as a daughter, then as a wife, then as a mother, then (back to her present self) a woman who has lost both a husband and a son to the violence of war. 

Each of these chapters is brought vividly to life in breathtaking vignettes of highly specific genres of Indian classical dance – from Bharatanatyam to Odissi to Kathak. These solos, however, quickly blend back into the greater ensemble of artistic greatness onstage. Held by a score devised and played by live musicians (led by Music Orchestrator Jyotsna Prakash), a fully immersive soundscape (designed by David Price), and impeccable lighting (by Zeynep Kepekli), it is impossible to feel far removed from this mother’s journey through a crumbling world. When she is faced with loss after loss, it is impossible not to grieve alongside her.

I know very little about Indian classical dance or musical tradition. What Khan and the company of GIGENIS have achieved is a ringing, heart-rending endorsement that digging deeply back into tradition, generally and across cultures, can teach us something quite profound about how to go about rebuilding our own endangered world. And, conversely, how reimagining our relationship to the Earth can help us fortify traditions that could be lost, traditions that could hold many answers, if we don’t make space for them on a global stage.

Khan himself appears in the piece as the warring, power-hungry son and brother – his first return to the stage in nearly half a decade and his first time creating an ensemble piece for Indian classical dance. Harnessing a background in contemporary training and twenty years in classical ballet, Khan also brings a childhood upbringing in kathak and Bengali folk dance. In his words, “I would say for 20 years I avoided the Indian classical dance world because I felt they never accepted me. I think deep down I was hurt. But I also understand […] that my style is not pure – and when I see the dancers in GIGENIS I can see the forms in all their purity.” 

Khan’s sentiment is perhaps what resounds most throughout the piece – the idea that purity is achieved through “impurity”, that beauty and harmony are fashioned by assembling together many parts that make up a whole. GIGENIS transcends tradition at the same time that it honours it. It is a manual for picking up the pieces of our own dismantled world and putting them together again.

Review by Grace Wallis

REVIEW: Exit Above

Published on by chelseajinaLeave a comment

Rating: 4 out of 5.

Anne Teresa De Keersmaeker’s EXIT ABOVE offers a cacophony of experimental dance, layered into an exciting mixture of blues and electronic music 

Belgian choreographer Anne Teresa De Keersmaeker has made a definitive name for herself in the contemporary dance scene since the inception of her dance company Rosas in 1983, which is now an International Associate Company of Sadler’s Wells, where Exit Above was staged. Her choreography is known for its taking simple, seemingly pedestrian movements and adding careful and complex layers. In EXIT ABOVE, we witness the act of walking reinterpreted in ways wholly unexpected. 

Walking is something we think of as a guarantee, an innate aspect of our existence. Those of us who are able-bodied walk without considering the almost miraculous amount of activity within our own bodies and mind that converges to pursue this activity. Walking is seen as a relaxing, mundane act. We go on a walk to clear our heads, to get some fresh air, to move from one place to another. Walking in EXIT ABOVE, however, takes on a whole new identity.

Equally as important as the choreography in this piece is the music. De Keersmaeker turned to blues and electronic, seeking songs that reference the multiplicity of walking, synch as Walking Blues by Robert Johnson. The upcoming Flemish singer-songwriter Meskerem Mees performs the music, accompanied by Carlos Garbin on guitar. The musicians were not only a part of the piece as the musical component – Mees and Garbin are an integral part of the choreography itself. Mees’s haunting voice is chilling in the best way, a performance that would be as exciting to watch all on its own. Garbin’s excellent manipulation of the guitar displayed something beyond skill, a true artistry that was thrilling to witness and hear.

The artistry and inventiveness of the choreography is excellently embodied by the company of 11 dancers on stage, who oscillate between synchronized patterns created on stage, weaving between each other as they walk like you have yet to witness walking and moments in which we zero-in on two or three dancers as they seem to converse with one another, angular snippets of humor and horror. The choreography itself is ardently experimental, both challenging and exhilarating to watch. The dancers were truly a joy to witness, embodying the wild choreography with vivacity and a keen understanding not only of the physical needs of the piece, but the emotive needs too. 
While some might describe the choreography inaccessible and abrasive, De Keersmaeker’s EXIT ABOVE presents audiences with an exciting opportunity to rethink the way they move with a thoughtful and often humorous exploration of walking.