The Print Room at the Coronet, London
March 1, 2017
Maggie Foyer
Russell Maliphant’s maliphantworks evening of dance scores on all counts: a bijou venue, five exceptional artists, four of his finest small works and the package complemented by effective design and music. Perfect might be the wrong word – drawing staid academic comparisons for an evening bristling with energy – but it was pretty much just that.
In the tiny Print Room studio, the opening extract, Wall, had two separate sittings for the audience. The huge geometric set dominated the space providing a playground for slow motion parkour from Dickson Mbi and Tommy Franzén. This duet was, for me, the highlight of the Rodin Project, and it looked even better so close and personal. The harmony between the two bodies remained a constant, with little direct contact but instinctive togetherness. They climbed and rolled creating sculptural forms sometimes in mirror image, sometimes on an individual path and always mesmeric to watch.
Photo Johan Persson
Moving onto the main stage, the focus was iconic Maliphant in three memorable solo pieces each with a signature lighting plot. The choreographer himself stepped in to replace the injure James De Maria, performing the solo One Part ll. To the ordered phrases of J.S. Bach’s music, the lights follow the dancer, illuminating consecutive areas of the stage as dynamics rise culminating in expansive movement covering the whole stage. It was a pleasure to see Maliphant in action and moving with accustomed ease and matched by obvious enjoyment on his part.
In Two, Dana Fouras, rooted in a small square of light begins to circle first shoulders and arms, slowly liberating her torso and then her body, but remaining centred within the light. Her arms are bare, catching the light as they weave and wind, while her body, clothed in soft dark material, remains in shadow. Two is a masterful exercise in invention structured so it constantly seems new minted. Fouras, having lived with the work for many years, interprets it with consummate mastery.
The longest solo comes last: Daniel Proietto interpreting Afterlight (Part One) the work created on him. The light this time is a dappled shadow rotating in congruence with the dancer, increasing to cover the stage and finally rotating to dissolve like water down a plughole as the piece ends. Proietto’s body seems at times as insubstantial as the light and as free flowing as water but there is power and strength to call on when needed. Eric Satie’s Gnossiennes 1-4 convey the right resonance, rarefied and haunting. Dressed as simply as if he had walked out of a rehearsal, it all seems as natural and easy as breathing.
Maliphant’s dance speaks to the here and now but, more than other contemporary choreographers, his movement reveals the beauty of the human body in motion, bodies that are fluid, elegant and powerful. And with this line-up of interpreters it was an evening of bliss.