The Royal Opera House, London
October 22, 2024
The Royal Ballet’s latest mixed programme brings together four contemporary works, although only Crystal Pite’s closing The Statement really moves away from classical technique. The quartet are all very different, each exploring human encounters in their own way, from Kyle Abraham’s opening meditative opener, through Pam Tanowicz and Joseph Toonga’s new works, to Pite’s look at workplace politics.
A sign of a really good choreographer is that he’s able to produce fine dance using the skills and talents of the dancers in front of him, regardless of their ‘base’ technique. Dance that suits them. Dance that looks good on them. The Weathering, made for The Royal Ballet in 2022, classical through and through, does just that.
The Weathering is described as being above love, loss and memory. All three are undoubtedly there, but it’s the remembering that comes through strongest, in the choreography but especially through the ever-growing sky of lanterns that float above the dancers, and which leave the strongest impression of all.
The slow opening sets the tone immediately. Delicious slow developpés and turns draw you in. When the lights rise, bathing the stage in a golden glow, the work awakens. As dancers come and go, Sae Maeda delights in breezy solo.
At the ballet’s heart is a slower, emotional pas de deux for Melissa Hamilton and Lukas B. Brændsrød, interrupted at one point by the ensemble of men who buzz around them like fireflies.
The Weathering may not be a ballet to set pulses racing, and is certainly not as interesting or modern-feeling as Mercurial Son, Abrahams’ recent creation for American Ballet Theatre, which challenges the dancers much more, but it’s wonderfully crafted and a delight to have back.
In November 2022, Pam Tanowitz created the well-received Dispatch Duet. That duet, again danced by Anna Rose O’Sullivan and William Bracewell, now forms the final section of her new Of Forevermore, but now fronted by additional choreography for twelve dancers. Sometimes (in my experience, quite often actually), it’s best to leave successful pieces well alone and as just that.
Tanowicz’ Merce Cunningham background is revealed in the structure of the ensemble sections and in the straight lines of the movement, which also includes a lot of Jack-in-the-box jumps, and flexed then pointed, then flexed feet. It’s all a bit of an unappealing puzzle that doesn’t really seem to be leading anywhere; where you keep thinking you’ve found a way in, but then, maybe not. Ted Hearne’s painful sounding, forgettable score does not help.
The highlight remains the original duet. O’Sullivan and Bracewell were in fine form in choreography and staging that leaves no hiding place, and in which the dancers pause occasionally as if to exchange a few words or take a rest. It does raise the odd smile here and there, but it’s not exactly witty. In the programme, she calls it “talking dancing,’ and it does look like that.
Altogether more successful is the second premiere, Joseph Toonga’s Dusk, where the action all takes place under a square of light that rises and tilts. His hip hop background is there for all to see, but he equally embraces the classical vocabulary to come up with choreography that’s strong, powerful and comes with a grounded physicality.
The two movement vocabularies do not so much merge as sit side-by-side, clearly hip hop inspired moments morphing seamlessly time and again into something bigger and smoother. It is quite remarkable just how well Toonga makes the two languages complement each other. Marina Moore’s gorgeous score is similarly a meeting of classical and modern.
There are hints of hip hop in the structure too, the way dancers watch each other, wondering if and when to join in or take over. Always interesting, Dusk whizzed by.
For all the good work that goes before, the undoubted highlight of the evening is Crystal Pite’s The Statement. Originally created for Nederlands Dans Theater in 2016, it’s a trademark collaboration between the choreographer and Jonathon Young, who wrote the text to which it is largely performed.
We find ourselves in a room in an unknown organisation, although it’s not difficult to read it as a government and draw associations with what’s going on in the world. Someone has messed up. Big time. A way out is needed, so someone from ‘upstairs’ has been sent down to agree a statement. Those dominant a few minutes earlier turn defensive as each of the foursome try to cover their backs and the pressure builds.
Pite’s dance serves to emphasise the spoken word that is the score. Fingers jab, heads are held in hands and more as the cast of four move respond animatedly to its cadences and rhythms. That does though mean one watches in a slightly different way, focusing less on the movement itself and more on the overall picture and how the scene is playing out.
There is music, Owen Belton’s ominous score playing away in the background. Perhaps it’s a function of what goes before, but the few minutes when it takes over from the text, while necessary, are the work’s least engaging moments.
Slick hardly starts to describe the performances of Ashley Dean, Joseph Sissens, Kristen McNally and Calvin Richardson, who were all astonishingly good.
Encounters: Four Contemporary Ballets by The Royal Ballet is at the Royal Opera House, London to November 16, 2024.