When canvas learns to dance.

Yesterday saw the first ever London outing of Jefta Van Dinther's Plateau Effect. A choreographer better acquainted with more intimate settings, it was to be the grand platform of Sadler's Wells where he was destine to thrill an unsuspecting audience with tales of collapsing tents and the moments during and after reaching a metaphysical peak.

He was not to disappoint, as the show opened with what could have been a sail or in fact a curtain, swaying in the wind. Nine bodies anchored to it's base, standing at first motionless staring at the space beyond.
They are an assortment of forms, dressed in grey jeans and leggings, with the odd bright green top or burgundy bra visible through a string vest.
their transfixed expression is soften as one begins to sing, eventually with them all singing a beautiful rearrangement of a song by Chinawoman.  It is apparent from early on that music will play more than a supporting role in this signature piece, and the composer David Kiers was involved from the very inception of the creative process.
As each mouth shaped the words perfectly, in no time,  it became clear that the lyrics were incomprehensible neither in recognisable as English or Swedish, and a feeling of  wiry uneasy descented.
The bodies moved and became more animated, defying gravity, fighting the overlay material that begin to encase them, they are contorted with the ebbs and flow of both the rhythm and scintillating electronic beating. A shared moment of both delayed gratification and concern is observed, as they are eventually swallowed whole by the fabric, one by one.

With them all gone, the stage is abruptly transformed, as the curtain falls, is undone and the rail is lifted trailed by action lights. They, the now team of seafarers, in quick succession, work together to at first, control the beastly material that emerges in front of the austere grey wall, binding it with ropes and levers, as it again moves under it's own volition, up into the air and down again.
Their movement is demonstrative, expressed through emotions of great strain,  visible from the expressions on their faces. They are working at or possible beyond their capacities, with the piece eventually erupting into a crescendo of primal coloured flashing lights,  justifying the clothing choices, and manic sounds broken by intermittent black outs.
Finally, the beast is tamed, bound and on display, like a prize for all to observe and celebrate, it's violence has now become internalised, as the dancer being to rage against their own physical form  and begin convulsing on stage.  The end is as disturbing as it is brilliant, as the theme of moving organs through out space continues to the very final note.
A testimony to the Cullberg Ballet versatility to fit in to the repertoire of any guest artist is evident in this piece which took six week to create. Van Dinther describes the performance as a process to allow for volatility instead of perfection,  and for most segment, the dance were allowed to improvise under clearly defined parameters and limitations. Asked, whether it was difficult to get classically trained dancers to preform a piece which involved organ isolation and inventive somatic techniques.
It is clear Van Dinther has a bright future, and there has been much talk of him showcasing future work to Rosebery Avenue.


Rating ***++

Last chance to see it tonight at 7:30pm