Simon Williams When Will I Be Famous
ANKH (Seema Patel & Payal Patel) Moving Root (The Cusp)
Nicola Conibere Count Two
*Editor's Update 18 Feb: Due to unforeseen consequences it has come to our attention that Bad Taste Cru, originally advertised as appearing on this evening's bill, had no involvement in the opening work. We would like to make it clear that When Will I Be Famous was choreographed and directed entirely by Simon Williams.
The simple story of a friendship criss-crossed by complex notions of cultural upheaval, Moving Root (The Cusp) was a lifeline to cling to on a night of dance so wilfully perverse it would have tested the patience of a saint. On the night before Valentine's there wasn't a lot of love in the room.
So, best things first. Employing an engaging voiceover which sketched out their personal history, Seema Patel and Payal Patel bridged modern and ancient in Moving Root (The Cusp), an energetic display of traditional Indian Kathak dance refracted through the experience of 21st century British Asian women. That theme is hardly new, but this pair of Patels offered a fresh perspective by revealing a glimpse of their lives behind the swirling costumes and elaborate bell anklets.
By contrast I knew no more about the six performers who took part in Nicola Conibere's Count Two than I had when they took to the stage thirty minutes earlier. For all their apparent candour they hid behind masks of mirrored and mimicked gestures. There was a neat idea at the heart of Count Two - recreating famous images which stretched from Michelangelo's Hand of God to the searing Vietnam War image of a gunshot to the head - but it overplayed its hand, feeling like a party game you weary of well before the end.
A year ago Simon Williams and Bad Taste Cru blew me away with their uniquely British spin on streetdance. So anticipation was keen for When Will I Be Famous?... which turned out to be Williams sat eating breakfast cereal for fifteen minutes while listening to the banal babble of a breakfast radio station. Yes, really. There was a film too, which signified nothing. Arrogant, disdainful and, even with its mercifully brief duration, an utter waste of time.
Keith Watson
"I'm still waiting to see the performance!" yelled one brave audience member on the culmination of this evening's opening performance. Broken and embarrassed applause from the remaining spectators suggested the feeling was mutual.
Arrogant and pointless are two of the adjectives that sprung to mind when watching Simon Williams's solo choreography. Walking onto the stage he assumes his place at the kitchen table, fills a bowl with cereal, pours some milk and makes a cup of tea. He then proceeds to eat, drink and read the newspaper for the entire fifteen minutes. Other than monotonous morning radio show drawl and video projection of a back alley, in which the absent members of Williams's cru make a fleeting appearance, nothing happens. Whether the piece was intended as a post-modern subversion of what a performance should or could be is irrelevant. Quite frankly it was a waste of valuable performance time.
Similarly Nicola Conibere's contribution proved to be a litmus test of the audience's patience. So much so that people began to trudge disconsolately out of the theatre within the first ten minutes. Six dancers walked into formations with banal pedestrian quality. Soap opera style slaps, punches and pushes formed the essence of the duets, punctuated by over animated facial expressions. The second half was just as repetitive. Breaking into trios they walked in and out of balances, re-creating famous statues and silhouettes. Pieced together like a broken record, the repertoire was both exhausted and exhausting.
Within a programme marred with disappointment, ANKH's endearing duet proved to be a beacon of light. Split into three sections, the duo infused new and traditional Kathak techniques. The piece opened with an audio backdrop depicting their experiences of Asian culture in the UK. Followed by an energetic display of sinuous swirling polka dot skirts, rhythmic footwork and jingling ankle bells the choreography was intricate and thoughtful. Moreover, they delivered with refreshing sincerity and enjoyment.
Fiona Campbell