It’s not always the case that the second half of a performance is better than the first. Particularly in contemporary dance. So often, a concept is introduced, tensions established, stakes raised . . . only for the second act to somehow lose its way and fail to make that final twist of the knife. With “Nobody” from Motionhouse, it’s the second half that’s really worth watching; something gets cleared away, and the show focuses in on the performers themselves.
Link copied to clipboard
Performance
Motionhouse: “Nobody”
Place
Edinburgh Festival Theatre, Edinburgh, UK, June 7, 2023
Words
Róisín O'Brien
“Nobody” by Motionhouse. Photograph by Dan Tucker
subscribe to the latest in dance
“Uncommonly intelligent, substantial coverage.”
Weekly articles from the world of dance
Wide diversity of reviews, interviews, articles & more
Created by Artistic Director of Motionhouse Kevin Finnan, the first half of “Nobody” sees each dancer perform as both crow & human. The crows represent our inner thoughts and our struggles with those thoughts; do we get trapped in by them? Manipulated? The outside world of crowded yet lonely skyscrapers and bustling urban nightlife is evoked through intelligent projections onto simple, angular and easily manipulated structures (the set design comes from Simon Dormon, with digital imagery by Logela Multimedia and AV Design by Barret Hodgson). Heavy imagery of crows and feathers are likewise synched up with the dancers’ placed positions on the stage.\
The largest of these structures is a hollow cube with bars the performers can ably swing from and hang on to. Smaller boxes scattered around it become buildings the crows survey the ground below from. It’s quite a busy stage, and what it allows for in terms of fun visuals and props that the cast can play with, doesn’t always make up for the fact that some of the neat group synchronicity is sometimes not shown to its fullest.
“Nobody” to Motionhouse. Photograph by Dan Tucker
Cut to the second half, and much like Kidd Pivot’s “Betroffenheit,”we move to a more abstract, body first environment. Antagonisms are removed; instead, the performers all click and connect together in a calmy capable display of throwing, catching, falling & the eating up of horizontal and vertical space. Compared to the representative first half, depicting isolation and our relationship to the social world, this second half is a sensorial depiction of collectivity.
The choreography itself is designed to make the most of a big stage and is very direct. As crows, the performers morph through arced, Graham-like movements that signify winged backs that sweep and soar. Heads twitch to get better viewing angles. Each pose the performers move into is always clearly articulated and fully pulled to its maximum point, including luxurious full body back bends that display no outward strain. While acrobatic partnering & grips are here, this is the performance of the soft, smart body, the performance of efficient joint articulations from worlds of perhaps of contemporary floorwork, capoeira, and breaking. Gender is also often smartly irrelevant in terms of who lifts who.
“Nobody” to Motionhouse. Photograph by Dan Tucker
The accompanying soundscape from musical collaborators Tim Dickinson and Sophy Smith follows the narrative action but does not necessarily surprise. The swelling instrumentation moves from intense, glitchy, drone-like sounds to wilting violins & soft piano. Overall, it’s a well-done evening from a company comfortable in what they do.
“Nobody” to Motionhouse. Photograph by Dan Tucker
Róisín O'Brien
Róisín is a dance artist and writer based in Edinburgh, Scotland. She regularly writes for Springback Magazine, The Skinny and Seeing Dance, and has contributed to The Guardian and Film Stories. She loves being in the studio working on a new choreography with a group of dancers, or talking to brilliant people in the dance world about their projects and opinions. She tries not to spend too much time obsessing over Crystal Pite.
Jukebox musicals tend to come in two packages. The first centers a celebrity musician or musical group and uses the subject's body of work to tell a biographical narrative (“Carole King,” “The Temptations,” “The Four Seasons”).
I may never know what it is like to be an octopus, but I can begin to imagine what it might be like if I was an octopus.[1] Equally, I may never know what it is like to be a dancer, and someone who communicates with their body, but, thanks to a special in-house showing of Prue Lang’s work-in-progress, “Poesis,” as part of her Australian Ballet’s residency program,[2] I can imagine what it might be like if I were. And so it was, that I found myself once more, in the late afternoon, in the van Praagh studio, of the Primrose...
It was a tri-polar night—but in a good way—last weekend, with a trio of high-energy, beautifully crafted works performed by the spectacular members of L.A. Dance Project.
On a mild spring night, the New York City Ballet held a similarly temperate Gala performance. The flower arrangements were lovely, the speeches were okay, the two premieres weren’t bad, and the Balanchine excerpt was sturdy. In almost every way, it was an enjoyable—if not overly momentous—night at the ballet.
comments