Scottish Ballet Review: This is My Body…
March 10, 2020 | Joyce Theatre – New York, NY, USA
Wrapping up their 50th anniversary season, Scottish Ballet presents This is My Body… to the Joyce Theater and eager New York City audiences. This double bill elicits moments of laughter, furrowed brows, and philosophical contemplation – welcoming the theater-goer’s mind to explore some of life’s confusions while also enjoying dance.
First to open the evening was Sophie Laplane’s comedic exploration of human physique, Sibilo. Set to an original music composition by Alex Menzies, the piece evokes a sense of humor and humanity through deep electronic heartbeats juxtaposed by light, trill whistling. Sibilo, in fact, means whistle in Latin. In what is perhaps the main takeaway of the piece, the mysterious title on the surface appears abstract and yet when broken down is simple and relatable.
Like the title, the piece often seems like it’s going in one direction yet surprises by going in another. Before the curtain rises, the audience is greeted by amusing sounds of whistling paired with typical classical instruments. Curtain up and the entire mood has shifted. Eight dancers are standing in a clump in the middle of the stage. The men are dressed in black business suits, socks, and no shirts. The women in low-cut, purpleish suit vests with shorts and socks as well. They appear almost corporate. The music enters low and dramatic, a distinctive rhythmic beat.
The first movements are typical contemporary choreography. The amoeba-like clump of dancers has been done before and in more creative ways. The dancers then pair off into synchronized pas de deux, sprinkled with momentary canons.
However, in this case, the four simultaneous pas de deux end up being less effective than just one might be. The rhythmic heartbeat of the music drives the choreography to be tense and angular – positions are hit rather than breathed through, allowing for striking physical connections between dancers like when the couples partner neck on neck.
Things brighten up when the whistling music returns, and two dancers break off into a sprightly pas de deux. Claire Souet and Thomas Edwards are breaths of fresh air in a silly pas de deux filled with comical angles and upper body gyrations (which make several appearances in the piece).
They end in a lovable moment by throwing an imaginary ball which they then watch fly up and over and into the hands of one of their friends. Another standout was a short solo performed by Rimbaud Patron in which the choreographer welcomes much needed fluidity and smoothness into the piece. The introduction of attitude turns and grounded softness releases the viewer from the hold of the stiff themes of the piece.
There are touches of campy moments weaved in – alone they are not compelling but pieced together, it works. Everything culminates with whistling tarantella-like music, welcoming all the dancers back to the stage. Perhaps the most powerful moment in the piece is when the dancers line up shoulder to shoulder, allowing physicality and humanity to become the evident thread throughout; a gentle intimacy and understanding left on the stage.
To close the evening, Scottish Ballet brought Angelin Preljoçaj’s sacred and carnal MC 14/22 (Ceci, est mon corps) in its U.S. premiere. Inspired by the St. Mark’s version of The Last Supper – “Take, eat: this is my body” – the dancers (evoking the twelve apostles) explore the balance of strength and the indignity in violence.
The curtain opens with three men downstage. Overhead fluorescent light is minimal and clinical. A man is being washed by another man on stage right. It is with great care that he washes the other man, he is thorough and not gentle. On stage left a man with a roll of tape is pulling and tearing repeatedly, with his teeth, and then meticulously taping the floor. He creates an intricate web of crossed tape. Their movements are accompanied by non-music (original sound design by Tedd Zahmal): water dripping, metal clanking together, high pitched noises.
Upstage center is a shelf of eight men stacked upwards: two columns and four rows. The men are in white briefs, their backs to the audience as they lay on their sides. The visual is arresting and gives off a very fetal, birth-like essence. The men move about in intricate and glorified planks for what seems like entirely too long. The jarring effect starts to lessen as the same movements carry on.
Thankfully, the dancers move on; they take apart the shelves to reveal six large silver tables. The men pair off, each taking a table and begin violent duets with one dancer manipulated and thrown about by the other man. The combination of fluorescent lighting and the medical tables resemble a bad situation in a coroner’s room.
The violence and the metallic music only intensify until bodies are being tossed, twisted, and thrown about. The sound of skin squeaking against the metal and bodies landing roughly is echoed by the music which reaches a culminating sound of glass breaking and electronic guns going off. The men are well-rehearsed, intensifying the effect of the disturbing scene.
In vignettes strewn between duet duels we see reimaginations of The Last Supper with different themes: eating and feeding, battling with mimed guns and arrows, even a near graphic erotic orgy. At another time, a man religiously repeats a series of steps despite succumbing to having his body gradually taped together. First his eyes are taped over, the plastic wrapped around his head and hair, then his wrist is taped to his forehead, his calf taped to his hamstring, and finally he’s so impaired that he is merely a ball of a body taped together. Yet, he still dances on. Perhaps a comment on man’s undying spirit?
In its closing moments, the tables are re-stacked into a set of stairs. Men take their turn climbing the stairs and falling stiffly into the arms of six other men. The piece leaves behind more questions than answers but certainly commands attention to the subject of strength and vulnerability of the body and the spirit.
Scottish Ballet will be performing THIS IS MY BODY… at The Joyce Theater through March 15, 2020.
Featured Photo for Scottish Ballet Review: An Audacious Double Bill of Artists of Scottish Ballet in Sophie Laplane’s Sibilo © Jane Hobson
