Albert Quesada Solo on Bach & Glenn
Margarita Zafrilla Olayo Itinerarium
ADiaspora Collective Frusted
Albert Quesada's Solo on Bach and Glenn, is as simple as the title suggests; one man on stage and his reaction to two great masters. If the anatomy of Gould and his piano could be divided and splayed across the space, Quesada sequentially embodies different parts in action. Although it might be conjecture that Glenn Gould experienced the phenomenon of Synesthesia, Queseda's Solo seems to incorporate this unorthodox computation of sensation; metaphorically he dances the piano's hammers, its sounds, Gould's thoughts, his fingers, his feet, the emotional responses to the interviewer's questions and the silence. Later Queseda speaks the words of Gould, then speaks the music. Imbibed with humour, this bold, subversive study demonstrates Quesada's strength as an artist.
Margarita Zafrilla's Itinerarium presents us with a rough sketch of lines on the stage, herself and Sebastian Loesener dressed in flaccid grey, quilted armour. Post apocalyptic, two people exist in an unknown, cold, dry space, unable to see. They appear to unconsciously continue with their own unquestioned itineraries while on some level aware that they are in each other's negative space. Juxtaposed with a moment of emergence into rosy coloured light, and synchronised movement, we do have brief respite of humour. Perhaps a bleak allegory for daily existence as a couple, this duet is a more pedantic take on DV8's rich interpersonal dialogues.
The combined talents of Alesandra Seutin and Vicki Igbokwe create an embodied, explosive response to aggression expressed towards the female. With five powerful performers, we feel threatened and often empathetic for the violence and unease relived before us. Incorporating aspects of Brechtian catharsis, Artaud's Theatre of the Oppressed , Hip Hop, and African Dance, Frusted translates the imprint accumulated from daily violence into a very articulate, impassioned seventeen minutes which culminated in a standing ovation. Using personal material from the performers brings a strong sense of solidarity and an energy that only genuine emotions can fuel.
Zoe Cobb
Never be fooled by first impressions. As a solitary skirted figure stood in semi-shadow on stage, back to the audience, then began sketching elegant phrases to Glenn Gould's legendary recording of Bach's Goldberg Variations, it looked like we were in for an Anne Teresa de Keersmaeker tribute act. Not surprising, given that Albert Quesada has studied at PARTS in Brussels, a school strongly linked to Belgium's leading choreographer.
Hang on, Albert not Alberta? As he turned face front, it was clear the boy Albert was performing his own steps. But it still felt like an academic exercise, then something magical happened: Quesada became the music. With a masterclass in miming that never missed a beat (Cheryl Cole, eat your heart out) Quesada ‘spoke' Gould's words on stage, a witty impersonation that unlocked the door to his intent. When the dance began again Quesada was no longer accompanying Bach's notes he was embedded inside them. The effect was subtly spellbinding.
The mysterious allure of Margarita Zafrilla's Itinerarium never quite came into focus. Buoyed by a tempting mix of medieval knitwear and sci-fi soundscapes, Zafrilla and partner Sebastian Losener had charisma to spare. But the choreography went around in ever decreasing circles, like a spinning coin losing momentum. Intrigue at this odd couple's curious journey slowly waned and I ended up more focussed on where he got his funky tunic.
You wouldn't want to mess with ADiaspora Collective - those women are fierce. All five dancers bristled with barely contained anger in Frusted, echoes of African rhythms and gestures echoing through Alesandra Seutin and Vicki Igbokwe's powerful choreography. ‘I'm running and no one don't get me,' yelled one dancer at one point and it summed up Frusted's punch-in-the-guts sense of frustration. It would have helped to have more of a clue as to what they were so hacked off about, but I wouldn't dare say that to their faces.
Keith Watson