FESTIVAL DANCE | Reviews

DILEMMA Extraordinary dance solo through turmoil and grace ●●●●●

Hill Street Theatre is flying solo this Fringe, offering a programme consisting entirely of shows with one performer. But while the monologue is familiar festival fodder, it’s rarer to see a dancer command the theatre alone for a full hour. Enter Russian-born choreographer, former gymnast and Fringe first-timer Olga Kosterina, rolling imperceptibly onstage, egg-like, blindfolded, bronzed by nude lighting. And as soon as she does, we know there will be nothing spartan or lacking in this extraordinary tour de force; a journey to heaven, a plunge into an elemental world.

Bandaged in flesh-toned gossamer, using swathes of fabric that range from a majestic black skirt to wisps of white chiffon, she dances mercurially in and out of states of turmoil, empowerment and grace. You can feel her sensory deprivation under that blindfold, an immersion in her own body as she tweaks a foot, turns a wide cartwheel into a runic shape. We see flashes of things we think we recognise, before

Kosterina whips them away again, too quick to tell; a classical turn, a Romany swirl? When she tosses her huge black skirt up over her shoulders into raven wings, the image, though fleeting, burns unforgettably. At last, in a simmering frenzy of Dervish whirls, she takes away her blindfold and the simple revelation of the eyes is transformed into something cathartic and powerful. It’s a shame to see this wildness tamed as Dilemma powers towards its end, because there is something so unearthly and wonderful about Kosterina when she is at her most raw. She is a rare treasure of a Fringe-find, someone whose talent feels as if it is bursting against the seams of her venue. Catch her now, before she is on a stage too large and far away to drink in all the details. (Lucy Ribchester) Hill Street Theatre, 226 6522, until 25 Aug, 1pm, £11.50–£13.50 (£9.50–£11.50).

PARKIN’SON Heartbreaking tribute from son to father ●●●●● SPILTMILK SAY DANCE Social dances reinvented for the stage ●●●●●

A SIMPLE SPACE Up-close acrobatic thrills from Oz ●●●●●

Simple beginnings give little indication of the painful honesty to come in Italian choreographer Giulio D’Anna’s love letter to his 63-year-old father, who suffers from Parkinson’s disease. By the end of the show, both men will have

mirrored, partnered, tangled into knots, pulled, pinched, slapped, teased and held each other. There is a moment that comes midway, where D’Anna embraces his father with painstaking delicacy, fitting each limb into its slot in an awkward manly game of chess before the hug can take hold. From here the currents of emotion begin to flow, culminating in a haunting passage where D’Anna dances his answer to his father’s request to describe Parkinson’s disease.

D’Anna is a choreographer of formidable imagination, wit and style, and has used these gifts to lay his heart open; so raw you can almost feel it pulsing in front of you, even when he is at his most mischievously funny. Confronting the issue of parents growing old and becoming ill, he articulates what many feel but most are afraid to say. And his eloquence is heartbreaking. (Lucy Ribchester) Summerhall, 0845 874 3001, until 25 Aug, 6.05pm, £10 (£9).

112 THE LIST 22 Aug–19 Sep 2013

This show by Spiltmilk Dance is as much about education as it is entertainment. Did you know that the twist was the first social dance that didn’t need a partner? Or that the hand jive came about so people could dance in busy bars? All this and more is imparted by three female

performers smartly dressed in colourful outfits, with tidy hair and matching red heeled shoes. So you know from the off that, unlike most dance shows, they won’t be breaking into a sweat. Instead, they find alternative ways to demonstrate

a myriad of social dances, from the 1920s to present day. The Charleston, foxtrot, disco and line dancing are all delivered in unusual ways with unexpected music (watching them rave to Judy Garland’s ‘Get Happy’ is a particularly amusing juxtaposition).

It’s pleasing throughout, but really steps up a gear during the closing montage, when more recent styles get an airing. Seeing the ‘Gangnam Style’ moves danced to Mozart’s ‘Eine Kleine Nachtmusik’ isn’t something you’ll forget in a hurry. (Kelly Apter) C nova, 0845 260 1234, until 26 Aug, 3.45pm, £8.50–£10.50 (£4.50–£8.50).

Hailing from South Australia, Gravity & Other Myths is a wonderfully strong, fit young company who want the audience to be close enough to see the pleasurable prowess, and the occasional strains or tensions, underlying their acrobatic games. Lasting just 40 minutes, the show takes place on a simple baize-green stage lit by long-necked adjustable lamps. What gives the back-to-basics production values a boost is our proximity to a handful of performers who are damn good at what they do.

It’s all structured loosely round twin themes of

friendly competition (skipping rope-stripping; who can backflip the longest; last man standing on his hands while being pelted by the punters with rubber balls) and co-operative trust (four men are human scaffolding, elevating a long bar round which the company’s lone, inscrutably calm female rotates; one male, flat on his back, later props her up on his hands while another man stands on the first’s stomach). You may have seen some of this before, but probably never so amazingly near. (Donald Hutera) Gilded Balloon, 622 6552, until 26 Aug (not 22), 1.30pm, £10–£11 (£9–£10).

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