Work in Regress Ioana Mona Popovici (Romania)
Sticks and Bones Darren Ellis
Bare Elias Lazaridis & Ino Riga
Romanian Aerowaves artist Ioana Mona Popovici set tonight's austere tone with her obliquely political solo Work in Regress. Animal Farm was the chief inspiration for this study of an authority figure (in this case, the irresponsible drunkard Mr Jones) deprived of all former power. In anonymous, dark clothing Popovici performs a series of slow, ineffectual actions that betray her depressed and incapacitated state. She's the embodiment of stylised listlessness, lacking sufficient energy to pop a sweet into her mouth. Still, she can smash an egg against the wall, or play a pathetic game of cards with a tiny toy lamb. The material's ironic wit is muffled by the performance's rigorous internalisation. Popovici's attention to detail is admirable, but ultimately her take on a life drained of meaning and purpose led me up a cul-de-sac of indifference.
Inclement weather left Jesus Rubio Gamo stranded in Madrid and unable to present his scheduled performance. Darren Ellis stepped into the breach with Sticks and Bones, a modest but likeable and intriguing solo about the mysterious force of rhythm. Ellis is both dancer and drummer. Here he swiftly wields his sticks in a shaft of bright light, the rest of him virtually invisible. Donning a marching tux, he then sits and responds to a voice-over lesson in beginners' drumming until a rising military beat unexpectedly takes him over.
Bare demonstrates that dance as the expression of a tortured relationship is alive and kicking. And writhing. Co-choreographers Elias Lazaridis and Ino Riga (an outstanding dramatic dancer) cue their buckling, grappling encounter to Sofia Gubaidulina's overwhelmingly strong choral music. Black-outs between scenes create dead space, and there's a needless bridging bit featuring chairs pulled by wires. At its best this intense, overloaded duet uses a juddering physicality to underline the psycho-emotional depths a couple might be compelled to plumb.
Donald Hutera
"Today the world is over" a voice relentlessly calls out throughout Popovici's London debut in which she adopts the perspective of Mister Jones from Orwell's Animal Farm after he is evicted from his farm. Suddenly finding himself without power and identity, his days are purposeless and inane. Once habitual actions are now unfamiliar and performed with meticulous deliberation. Other actions are childishly futile; rubber balls are bounced with vigour across the stage, a reel of red thread is unwound and discarded. Popovici performs with conviction and the 35 minute work is generally engaging. It was therefore slightly disappointing that it ended without a sense of resolution or purport.
From the darkness two drumsticks are brandished around the stage, giving the illusion of luminescent night insects. As the light illuminates Ellis, his feet tap out a rhythm in sync with his drumsticks that strike an invisible drum. A narrator guides us back to the basics of the art of drumming, Ellis miming the instructions with amateurish naivety. Once he masters the proper technique, Ellis adamantly tries to maintain it despite the drumsticks having a malicious will of their own. They slice through the air, striking out in all directions, and propelling Ellis to his knees as he beats the ground with rifle-like percussion. Despite the somewhat predictable ending, Ellis has an arresting energy and strong stage-presence that make the work very watchable.
Sitting at an angle to each other, a couple engage in a domestic wrestling match as they hit out, kick, and grasp hold of one another, occasionally taking a brief respite in anticipation of what will come next. Adding to the tension, a piercing soprano chorus envelops the scene. Later, the dancers are drawn together but it is hardly a loving gesture as she is spun with her feet clasped around his neck. At another moment, she watches him intrigued as he spins and convulses around her, his every movement seems angst-ridden. When they do finally embrace, both shudder as if unable to sustain such intimacy. It is then she who falls and squirms about him, suggesting that these contrasting tensions are what keep them together and also apart.
Katie Fish
Elias Lazaridis & Ino Riga 'Bare'
Jesús Rubio Gamo 'Sinnerman'