Wilton’s Music Hall, London
May 17, 2024
The Monocle, choreographed by Rendez-Vous Dance artistic director Mathieu Geffré, takes the audience to 1930s Paris. In particular, to Boulevard Edgar Quinet in the Montparnasse district, and the Le Monocle, one of the earliest, certainly one of the most famous, lesbian nightclubs in the city.
Why Le Monocle? The fad at the time was for women who identified as lesbian to wear one, often along with a white carnation in the buttonhole, to indicate sexual preference.
The designers set the scene beautifully. Helen Herbert and Nate Gibson’s set suggests a small basement location. They clearly did their research as their costumes accurately reflect how the club attracted women who liked to dress up in tuxedos and men’s suits, and cut their hair short, precisely as seen in what few old photographs survive. One of the dancers even wears a sailor-top, identical in style to one clearly visible in one old picture. In contrast to photos that invariably show her also in a tux, club owner Lulu appears in a dress. Joshie Harriette and Rachel Shipp’s subdued lighting is nicely smoky.
Photo Luke Waddington
An ensemble dance opening is vibrant but tells us little about the club. Narratively out of place in that it shows everyone already in the club, it also strangely doesn’t feel like it reflects the theme of the work. Once that is past, there’s a sort of rewind as the staff and guests arrive.
The atmosphere quickly takes on a secretive yet warm and slightly electric air as Lulu (Alyssa Lisle) first greets bartender Colette (Ruth Howard) and doorperson Violette (Jemima Colin). Patrons Mireille, a regular (Natassa Argyopoulou) and Marcelle, a celebrity (Coralie Calfond) are comfortable and assured. Not so the newcomer Sofiane (Zara Phillips), smiling but clearly very anxious, but who is quickly accepted after dancing nervously for the others.
While The Monocle presents a snapshot of the club, its staff and clientele, it does little more than scratch the surface at what lies beneath, however. The characters are presented and outlined as individuals, but that they not subsequently explored in any depth feels like an opportunity missed. And while the dance may ebb and flow, may flip from relaxed to fiery, only occasionally is it as sensual, smouldering or raw as you feel it could be.
Photo Luke Waddington
Geffré keeps the stage crowded and busy. That might reflect the reality of the club, but having three duets happening at once feels too much. There is an early excellent drinking dance around the bar but it feels no coincidence that the best moment of the evening comes at the end of Act I when Phillips and Calfond get the stage to themselves for an extended, slow and sexually charged dance that reveals more about character than anything that goes before or after.
The action is interrupted several times by a masked figure in a black leather coat, always accompanied by orange and red flashing lights and a soundscape that hints at violence. A monster of fascism, Nazi-ism and intolerance, it’s impossible not to read initial appearances as connected with the way Parisian society turned against lesbianism in the 1930s, driven in part by the rise of fascism, after it had previously been quite fashionable, unlike the hostility long felt towards it elsewhere. Always harsh and jarring, and always accompanied by a very dissonant soundscape, it rips away the warmness leaving you in a very uncomfortable place. Later, as explosions are heard in the background, it can only be read as the arrival of World War Two.
The action is helped along throughout by regular appearances by singer Line (the excellent Imogen Banks), and BSL Interpreter, Caroline Ryan, a fine actor who manages to merge seamlessly into every scene. At times sounding reminiscent of the great Edith Piaf (‘La Vie en rose’ does put in an appearance), Banks also entertained the audience during the interval.
Le Monocle survived until 1940 and the Nazi occupation of Paris. After the war, it reopened under new ownership but the world had changed and it was never the same. Remarkably, the facade can still be seen at 60 Boulevard Edgar Quinet, still shaped like a monocle.
The Monocle shines a light on a fascinating moment in social history. The cast give it everything they have. It’s a fabulous topic to explore in dance; an idea and a work with masses of promise. But also one with still untapped potential. While there is much to like, as it stands, it leaves one feeling that it could have been, should have been, so much more.
The Monocle by Rendez-Vous Dance continues on tour to June 27, 2024.