Words by Georgia Howlett.
STILL BLIND, LET ME SEE by Noah Meteau
STILL BLIND, LET ME SEE is slick and sultry. Four dancers impeccably dressed in Chinese silk and suits slink between two tables to curious, plucky strings. Casual indoor smoking, a rotary phone and a typewriter fling us back through time. Visually akin to the film from which it is inspired, Wong Kaw-Wai’s In the Mood for Love Meteau’s work explores supressed desires thatquietly emerge from this shadowy quartet.
Movement is a blend of traditional Chinese dance, its refined and circular shapes a satisfying match for Meteau’s gooey contemporary style. The cast tread lightly in and out of the ground with breathlessly smooth floorwork. Between charged stolen glances and very important paper pushing, two forbidden relationships manifest, but when lips finally meet, the act is tasteful at most. Restraint of passion might be the point, but amidst all the sophisticated cinematics, I long for the drama and grit of desire.
Same Shirt, Different Day by Paul Davidson
Wheeley chairs, MacBook’s and bad postures make blatant the theme of Same Shirt, Different Day. At 9am, the three performers of Paul Davidson’s corporate creation are naïve to the 8 hours of mind numbing work to come, and cheeky string accompaniment proves it.
Daydreams in the form of projections draw them from the desk, though these forays are danced and paced less with freefalling imagination and more with the structure of the very trap they wish to escape. Regardless, the dancers smile into the sunshine as they drift through imaginary fields and softly ripple their limbs to the rhythm of lapping waves. The trio even find disinhibition to thumping techno.
A punchy street dance sequence with puffed chests and flying fists is impressively vigorous. The dancers are physically invested as they fight back against deadlines, digital control and the menacing instructions to WFH,where it is safe and secure, that are projected onto a miserable tower block visual. The piece may be winking at tropes of 1984-style conspiracies, but it a little too predictable a representation to generate any mystery or tension. Not unlike a 9-5, I suppose.
Boundaries Pushed by Ruth Polden, Rose Ryan and Nick Pile
If Boundaries Pushed is a political statement, then it is made before the piece even starts. By simply taking up space in the Resolution programme, Ruth Polden, Rose Ryan and Nick Pile, all over 60, set new and refreshing expectations. They start with a sensorial examination of their own bodies, of loose flesh and wrinkles etched into skin. It is expectedly poignant, though I am moved more when the piece diverts from explicit expressions of ageing. Halfway through, they take flight, elemental and life affirming. Holden in particular beams with an infectious joy. They sketch intimate pathways, lines drawn andsoftly broken with gentle release. When they meet and make contact, sometimes through subtle leans into one another, or a palm on a knee, they pause to crystallise the moment. Sweeping lifts see them elevated with keen lightness.
The removal of clothing to reveal their bodies beneath is almost unnecessary, for the deep presence this cast bring to the stage can only be the result of their combined years and wisdom. Boundaries might have been pushed to get there, but no force is applied in a piece that trusts its own pace completely.