Words by Josephine Leask.
Sarah Crowner’s abstract set for Pam Tanowitz’s Pastoral at the Barbican creates a refreshing contrast to the burnt-out colours of our drought-ridden summer. Vibrant emerald-green backdrops and curtains, spliced with light-pink leaves, divide the stage into distinct areas and make the unfolding scene feel relaxed and restorative. Reid Bartelme’s jewel-coloured, semi-transparent chiffon jumpsuits deepen this softly radiant, verdant atmosphere. Against the rich visual and aural environment, the dancers glide, leap and pose with apparent effortlessness, interpreting Caroline Shaw’s composition with both humour and dexterity.
Shaw’s score, a response to Beethoven’s Pastoral Symphony No. 6 in F major, is an intriguing and playful intervention. Performed by a trio of wind instruments—bassoon, clarinet and oboe—it deconstructs and reimagines the original through silence, extended techniques by the ambidextrous musicians and prerecorded sounds of nature and city traffic. These elements are set against intense, familiar phrases from Beethoven’s symphony, which break through sporadically. Where Beethoven sought to convey the mood and felt experience of an idyllic summer countryside, Shaw foregrounds individual, idiosyncratic responses to an aural landscape, suggesting a contemporary and less idealised pastoral. Rain may soothe some listeners, while muted urban traffic and human voices may reassure others. Overall, Shaw’s music feels minimal, relaxed and light rather than offering the intense, sentimental experience of Beethoven’s symphony.
Tanowitz’s choreography is as quirky and inquisitive as Shaw’s score. Her complex language vocabulary reminds me of a softer version of Cunningham, combining balletic overtones with an experimental approach reminiscent of postmodern dance. The seven dancers move through highly technical sequences, backbends, vertical leaps in first position, walking on demi point with bent legs, pedestrian movement as well as constructing moments of sculptural stillness. Like a group of friends or family on a picnic, they split off into duets and trios before frequently regrouping in carefully composed tableaux as if posing for a photo. Curious and alert they remain tuned in to one another’s idiosyncrasies. Anson Zwingelberg and Marc Crousillat calmly and expectantly catch Christine Flores as she repeatedly throws herself horizontally into their arms. Crousillat then purposefully performs a solo in front of an orange screen and is soon joined by the others who walk nonchalantly towards him.
Together, the dancers create shifting colours, tones and shapes with composed effortlessness. At times, I yearn for the drama of Beethoven’s rousing symphony; yet the work’s restraint is also its distinctive achievement. Pastoral ultimately resembles a relaxed Sunday-afternoon visit to an art exhibition: undemanding on the surface, but quietly intriguing in the ways its music, design and movement reframe the pastoral for the present.
Header image by Lawrence Sumulong.