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list.co.uk/festival Reviews | FESTIVAL DANCE
NIJINSKY’S LAST JUMP ●●●●● Engaging meditation on the mysteries of creativity and madness BRUIT DE COULOIR ●●●●● Juggling and dance combine in this eloquent meditation on life
DA-DA-DARLING ●●●●● Throwback avant-garde modernism
A Fringe premiere from Kally Lloyd-Jones, the Scottish choreographer and director of Company Chordelia, this is an engaging meditation on the mysteries of creativity and madness. Both conditions were apparent in Vaslav Nijinsky, played here as an old and young man by, respectively, James Bryce and Darren Brownlie – an excellent double-act. Set by the designer Janis Hart in what could be construed as either a flower-filled dressing room and / or an asylum, and featuring an artful text by Michael Daviot, the piece presents an entirely humanising portrait of a 20th-century dance legend.
The intriguing central notion of a meeting (as well as the love and loss) of one’s self is realised with uncommon sensitivity and intelligence. En route there are, additionally, clever insights into an iconic career. Old Nijinsky acts as his own coach and critic, adjusting Young Nijinsky’s limbs in a few phrases from L’après-midi d’un faune. This somewhat episodic and repetitive show needs better transitions between scenes, plus a slight trim as it’s maybe a tad too in love with itself. But then I rather loved it too. So might you. (Donald Hutera) ■ Dance Base, 225 5525, until 23 Aug (not 17), 2pm, £10 (£8).
It’s not unusual to find dancers and circus performers drawing on their skills to tackle disturbing issues. But in Bruit de Couloir – ‘rumour’ in English – Clément Dazin doesn’t just utilise juggling to add colour to his piece, he makes it the essential heartbeat.
This bears out in ways more literal than you might expect. In Dazin’s response to the trauma of a near-death experience, the neat white juggling balls take on a rhythm that brings to mind the beeps of a heart monitor; tiny repetitions, at first reassuring and cyclical, then later fragile enough to break into erratic patterns that come shattering to a halt.
Dazin also plays with the concept of time, slowing down the motion of the balls until at one point he is passing them at underwater speed around his body, or allowing them to orbit him as he moves across the floor.
But it’s in the piece’s final moments – a catharsis so simple it is luminous – that Bruit de Couloir shows its true eloquence . Precise and sincere, Dazin has created a moving and quietly original meditation on the elusive thing that keeps us all in motion. (Lucy Ribchester) ■ Institut français d’Ecosse, 225 5366, until 23 Aug (not 13, 17, 20), 3pm, £10 (£8).
At times in this experimental, and occasionally quite camp, late-night fever dream by Bristol’s Impermanence Dance Theatre, it seems as if they’ve been wholly struck by a batty and possibly unholy rapture. The seven Rambert-trained performers are trying to take us to places – let’s call it throwback avant-garde modernism – which most other companies can’t, or maybe wouldn’t want, to go. But for it to work you have to want to go there too. Sometimes I did. Impermanence’s source of inspiration is a 1930 ‘collage-novel’ by German painter, poet and Dada movement pioneer, Max Ernst, called A Little Girl Dreams of Taking the Veil. This highly self- conscious, hallucinatory production was collectively devised, each performer taking responsibility for a minute or so of choreography, with all the pieces then stitched together. An episodic, oddball patchwork straddling the crossroads of kitsch and high art, it’s either brave, or foolhardy, or both. Riddled with sexual and religious symbolism,
it features big music (and movement) and lots of costume changes. But what I liked, and what might stick, is the sense of heroic havoc. (Donald Hutera) ■ ZOO, 662 6892, until 31 Aug (not 17), 10.15pm, £9–£10 (£7–£8).
CLOSE UP ●●●●● Awe-inspiring acrobatics at their most raw and honest
A warning: sit in the front row of this show and you’ll be overcome with the urge to shout, ‘Be careful!’ like some crazed mother hen. A collection of Ikea chairs has never looked so frightening. When the acrobats of Circa call their show Close Up they’re not mucking about.
Following smart, sexy Wunderkammer and weird, wonderful Beyond, Australian company Circa takes an abrupt turn in this four-person show to somewhere much more pared-back. Now circus’ magical qualities and mute superhumans are taking off at the Fringe, it seems the logical way to go is back to basics: honest and raw. In Close Up, the performers shout the building blocks of
acrobatics to each other – ‘stand’, ‘roll’, ‘jump’ – while doing each of those things and tossing the microphone in between. Chinese Pole wizard Todd Kilby tells us it’s necessary to wear protective layers in his act, before leaping to it; the explanation makes his balances and drops feel more, not less, of a feat.
Similarly, Lauren Herley’s beautiful rope aerials are made more
awe-inspiring by the contrast of her liquid movements and the burning red patches you can see beginning to bloom on her legs. Here, no one is plying the illusion that things are effortless. Close Up isn’t the only show to deconstruct its craft this Fringe; 4x4 Ephemeral Architectures goes down a similar route. Nor is it the first to showcase the wobbles and sweat of up-close circus; Casus’ Knee Deep went there in 2013. But there’s a sauciness and a mischief distinct to the company that has you rooting for them as they challenge themselves harder and harder. Commit yourself to Circa for an hour and you know it’s going to be a damn good one. (Lucy Ribchester) ■ Underbelly George Square, 0844 545 8252, until 31 Aug (not 18, 25), 8pm, £17–£18 (£16–£17).
13–20 Aug 2015 THE LIST FESTIVAL 61