Lucid Variations review

NDT 2 brings 2024 to a close with two excellent ensemble works

Unlike most companies, NDT has shown significant tech savviness in its decision to continue streaming their work well past the end of the pandemic. In doing so, they’ve continued to cement their place as the leading institution for contemporary dance. While they may have more financial means than other companies, the directors of said companies would do well to take note, as we need innovation behind the scenes for dance to survive as an artform.

Lucid Variations presents us with a restaging of Folkå by Marcos Morau, and a new creation by Nadav Zelner titled Un untold story. Both display the immeasurable talent and technique of the young dancers at NDT2. Unfortunately, the video direction by Mink Pinster leaves much to be desired, as we are regularly excluded from seeing the whole picture to witness an excessive number of close-ups, which is especially a shame in the case of Folkå, given that Morau composes many visually striking formations that demand to be seen as a whole picture. Pinster is not alone in this fault. Many videographers force the viewer’s attention when filming dance, but that is a story for another day.

Both Folkå and Un untold story are great examples of onstage worldbuilding. Through sounds, gestures, and costumes alone, they immerse us into their bizarre and vastly different worlds. We don’t need to read the programme to become engaged in what’s going on, and that is an impressive feat given how conceptual contemporary dance has become.

Marcos Morau shines when he is limited to using a bare stage. His reliance on excessive production design in works like Firmamento take the emphasis away from the dancing, which becomes a guest at its own party. In Folkå, the dancing takes centre stage, and the visual harmony we get to see through its numerous formations and unisons is truly delightful. The costumes, designed by Silvia Delagneau, are finely crafted works of art in their own right, and Morau finds many creative uses for the skirts throughout the entire piece, making the fabric itself a part of the choreography.

The dancers embody the twisted and isolated physicality of La Veronal’s style well. But it is so demanding that every now and then we see them struggling. One wonders if anyone can master this physicality in such little time. Perhaps they could have achieved more clarity of movement if they had had months or even years to practice the style. Unfortunately, the dance world places too much expectation on dancers, who are made to jump from one movement language to another in an excessively short amount of time.

Ironically, the ritualistic elements of Folkå are the piece’s strength as well as its weakness. We are drawn into this intriguing world by its strange symbolism, but what allows us to stay in it are the movements and the music, not the rest. For as the performance progresses, the whispers and the dancer’s grim expressions start to feel more like mood-based decisions rather than an indication of symbolic depth. The dancers, while doing their best to translate the work’s mysticism to the audience, seem undecided in what they’re supposed to represent.

The opposite is true of Zelner’s work. The dancers not only fully understand the crazy world they’re in, but they also thrive in it. It is rare to see a performance that looks both technically difficult and fun to do at the same time, but that is the case in Un untold story. The dancers repeatedly perform highly complex and fast sequences of movements, and they seem to be having the time of their lives while doing so. This is aided by the wonderful music of Fanfare Ciocarlia and other Romanian artists. A perfect choice to bring Zelner’s idiosyncratic vision to life. What’s wonderful about his style is that the speed at which the choreography is performed never sacrifices the clarity of movement. So, while the movements are very fast, they are 100% readable the entire time, making it thrilling and enjoyable to watch at the same time.

The costumes, designed by Maor Zabar, are quite ghastly, however. And while they feel somewhat in sync with the oddness of the work, they look awkward and uncomfortable. The epilogue duet in Un untold story, while beautifully crafted and performed, is unnecessary, and the performance would have ended on a much higher note should it have been omitted.

Despite my somewhat minor criticisms, however, Lucid variations is an excellent double bill, and I hope it is successful in its tour.