Abi Davies Archives - Page 8 of 16 - thespyinthestalls.com

★★★★

“by thirty minutes in the audience mood has swelled into bonhomie”

‘You want to call your play something fun, something playful, something catchy’. So opens this exploration of the overlapping worlds of climate science, denial and activism. The questionable ‘fun’ of the title sums up the tensions that David Finnigan’s writing and Nic Connaughton’s direction unpack; tensions between laugh-out-loud comedy and the very real tragedy of our warming planet.

The ninety minute production in the downstairs Pleasance Space starts a little slowly, understandably. Some narrative explication is needed; this play is meta to the max, and even more so on press night when playwright David Finnigan was both represented on stage, by Nathan Coenen, and sitting within the audience. Coenen, as ‘Finig’, addresses us throughout the play, inserting wry asides and giving context to the ideas that led to his writing a play with quite such an inflammatory title (of which more later).

The otherwise all-female cast is uniformly strong, variously turning their hands to physicality, comedy and pathos, but it’s no surprise that the star of the show is highly-regarded comedian Felicity Ward as earnest but chaotic Environment Minister Gwen Malkin. We watch as Finig’s flippant (or was it?) play title starts to convert into a call to action, and the second phase of the play sees a switch into action with Malkin eventually taking down climate terrorists to an absolutely banging soundtrack of nineties dance classics.

The choreography, by movement director Rubyyy Jones, is exceptional; they deserve note for further enhancing and celebrating the energy of this litany of amazing tracks. Jones’ work and great lighting design from Geoff Hense help the play into gear and by thirty minutes in the audience mood has swelled into bonhomie – aided in no small part by a lively shared rendition of Fleetwood Mac’s ‘You Can Go Your Own Way’. On that note, fans of The Mac be warned; there is plenty of fun gently poked at the rockers, who play an unexpectedly central role. It’s not personal, though; few institutions go un-poked, and there are some especially ripe representations of Australian right-wing commentators and their slippery uses of language.

Uses and abuses of language are a recurring theme. Finig questions whether it was right to use the menacing imperative of the title and opens the night by repeating, mantra-like, ‘sometimes you get it wrong, you get it wrong, you get it wrong…’. By the close of the play, the audience are similarly turned around. Is it right or helpful to remain in ardent opposition to people with whom we may, in fact, have more in common than we realise? And can we ever effect change that will halt our not-so-slow march towards extinction, or would the change itself be harder than we can bear? Sometimes we do all, indeed, get it wrong, and we all are where climate change is concerned. But Finnigan certainly got this one right.

Reviewed by Abi Davies

Photography by Ali Wright

Constellations

Lilian Baylis Studio

Reviewed – 6th June 2019

★★

“some moments are hypnotically step-perfect but others feel confused”

Let’s be real: contemporary dance can be hard. Appreciation of it can rely on interpreting unspoken languages that baffle the uninitiated; those in the know can decode it, but for the rest of us it can feel terribly othering, as though on the outside of a cryptic in-joke.

I’d love to say that this piece by emerging contemporary dance superstars bucks this trend. And there are moments of comfort and sweetness; lights soften, a dog potters into the space and greets the audience. Costumes (Curtis Oland with masks by Damselfrau) are impactful, invoking gender-bending jesters. But for much of the night, this is contemporary dance at its most alienating.

The concepts are beguiling, although the artspeak in the programme does nothing to draw us in (e.g. curator Stefan Jovanović states ‘…current research looks at the translation of systemic family constellations and somatic experiencing into dance and architecture’). Part masque, part artwork, part ritual and part village fête (we’re encouraged to attend the ‘Fool’s Market’ (set design Jack Hardy) during the interval to peruse artisanal pieces used in the performance), we’re told that ‘we’re living in a time of need of new rituals for coming together, to affect (sic?) change, to heal’ and ‘it is about sacred spaces and sacred times, the rekindling of community’. Hard to argue with that. But given its lofty intentions, I wonder who this performance is for. Perhaps many members of the very white, often more mature audience are experienced enough consumers of dance to take the more challenging set pieces in their stride (two dancers roaming the stage barking like dogs for minutes on end, anyone?), but for those less immersed these scenes can feel impossibly long and downright baffling.

This is a shame, as there are powerful moments and no shortage of impressive physicality on display. It’s hard not to feel as though the night revolves around Pau Aran Gimeno, whose movement is easily the most entrancing and whose narratives are some of the more accessible. A scene of shamanic ritual, set to a pulsing drumbeat (composer Domenico Angarano), is one of the most compelling, and the swirling metal orb suspended over the stage (created by one of the craftspeople on display) is an effective staging moment. Dancers writhe around more metal structures throughout, and these too promise mesmeric flashes – until occasionally a performer thunks awkwardly against one and the spell is broken. This reflects another issue with the night; some moments are hypnotically step-perfect but others feel confused.

There are also interactions with audience members: more awkwardness. Many of these offer up moments of tenderness; to its credit, this is not a production intended to embarrass its attendees. But the informality of these interactions is also distracting; one game volunteer squeaked ‘what am I supposed to DO??!’ as she teetered on a metal wheel. Indeed.

Dance – nay, any piece of art – doesn’t need to be literal, of course it doesn’t, and in a piece dedicated to carving out ‘a space that is both familiar and strange’ it’s right and to be expected that discomfiture will feature. It just feels as though Constellations, with its promise of humour and warmth, takes fragmentation just a step too far.

Pleasance Theatre

Reviewed – 7th June 2019

★★★★

“by thirty minutes in the audience mood has swelled into bonhomie”

Reviewed by Abi Davies

Photography by Ali Wright

Kill Climate Deniers

Pleasance Theatre until 28th June

Last ten shows reviewed at this venue:

Lilian Baylis Studio

Reviewed – 6th June 2019

★★

“some moments are hypnotically step-perfect but others feel confused”

Let’s be real: contemporary dance can be hard. Appreciation of it can rely on interpreting unspoken languages that baffle the uninitiated; those in the know can decode it, but for the rest of us it can feel terribly othering, as though on the outside of a cryptic in-joke.

Reviewed by Abi Davies

Photography by Camilla Greenwell

Constellations

Lilian Baylis Studio until 6th June

Last ten Sadler’s Wells shows reviewed: