Thu 16 Jan: Brooke Sorensen, Congfang Xiao and Eve Walker

Brooke Sorensen Cathedrals

Congfang Xiao Hey STOP!!!

Eve Walker For Steve

Twitching like a fly trapped in a web, a figure wrapped in twisted white cloth hangs between two white-clothed columns. The columns stutteringly hatch, and larval dancers emerge; they yank at the white cloth that enslaves the struggling central figure. Congfang Xiao’sHey STOP!!! is at its best when juxtaposing movements of monstrosity and torture with those of ordinary human interaction. Through pre-recorded voice-overs–most effective when rationed in garbled snippets–the roots of this torture emerge as social anxiety. Later, when voice-overs become clearer and longer, they risk being spell-breakingly didactic. But the harrowing performance is sustained (with Ya Shu a worthy centrepiece), and the eventual breakthrough from tormented to joyous dancing–impressively avoiding a cringeworthy Disneyfication of social anxiety–is uplifting.

Brooke Sorensen’s Cathedrals shapes similar violent movement into female rage. The balletic elegance of six schoolgirl-costumed dancers––gliding on angelic choral music– gliding on angelic choral music - progressively breaks down into bold, vengeful movements, a modern-day resurrection of The Eumenides’ chorus of Furies. There’s a terrifying cycle: their slow-mo battle charge builds–with the silent bellowing of many a MOTHERFUCKER!–into a strange tension that dissolves in painfully, wonderfully liberated movement. The growing mania does perhaps lose its edge: the narrative arc, deterioration into rage, seems oddly settled and undaring. But the devastating ending sidelines the worry. The schoolgirls line up close to the audience, each dancer repeating an angular, gory, suicidal sequence–pray, slit throat, tie noose, blow brains out, repeat–in various offset rhythms. The reincarnation of De Keersmaeker’s Rosas danst Rosas is hellish.

For Steve is Eve Walker’s much-appreciated antidote to the agony above. The two dancers start flowing with trance-like touches across one another's shoulders, elbows, hips: traces of Steve Paxton’s Contact Improv. With two musicians on stage, each dancer follows an instrumentalist’s improvisation: one follows the enraptured snake-charming saxophonist who avoids all eye contact; the other follows the keyboardist who stares back with piercing, near-predatory eyes. It’s mesmeric puppeteering. Occasionally, the dancers seem too conservative and too separate, not quite matching the musical intensity and–with dynamic Contact Improv partnerwork possibilities strangely under-explored–never really mimicking the layered play between instrumentalists. But the lightness and pliability of improvisation is welcome refreshment. The climactic hug reminds us how precious the tenderness of an understated dance can be–performed but not performative.

Eddy Gibb

My first night at the 2025 Resolution Festival — or, as The Place's artistic director, Eddie Nixon, warmly noted, "Creative experiments to be approached with an open mind". Open mind at the ready, I jumped into what proved a night of wide-reaching and adventurous dance.

Social anxiety and phobia were the subjects of Congfang Xiao'sHey STOP!!!, and her five dancers, led by Ya Shu as the shyly retiring square peg in a round hole, certainly showed that at times. Much was made of white fabric ('installation art'), which was at its best in ropes restraining Shu's attempts to escape the mad world of reality. However, what I liked most in Xiao's composition seemed least related to the subject and everything to do with interesting dynamic shapes, as four dancers chained and mirrored their arms at the back of the stage, creating a stunning tangle of writhing limbs at one point. Xiao shows arresting promise and clearly thought about the beginning and end of Hey STOP!!!, swiftly grabbing attention and neatly resolving things at the conclusion. Great lighting too, from Mengyun Liu.

Brooke Sorensen'sCathedrals featured a particularly strong cast of young dance-actors. A provocation about the male-dominated world of cathedrals and their architecture, this piece started wonderfully and subversively with six Sunday School teachers gaily skipping for the Lord before diving into the snarly meat of the work, where the snarling and railing never really seemed to let up thereafter. Occasionally, the group would run and move at pace, filling the stage with welcome brio, but the snarling would return. And a little snarling, even done with slo-mo brilliance, can go a long way.

Steve Paxton (RIP), the Contact Improvisation supremo, was the inspiration for For Steve, which was arrestingly danced by its creator, Eve Walker, and Maria Giacchetto. Paxton's dance-questioning pedigree meant this was the most experimental work of the night, built around what seemed to be a hangover from Covid, exploring contact without the contact and improvised movement/interactions with two musicians playing live on stage. In truth, the pure impro section didn't really take off, but the beginning and end of For Steve featured the dancers close together, gently stroking and echoing each other's moves, with low side lighting creating a mesmerising, otherworldly look. Accomplished dancing and shades of James Cousins' work - more of that, please.

Bruce Marriott