Dance
Dance Umbrella (Natural History Museum)
That's entertainment
thannandrea Pomo
While I was standing in the middle of the Natural History Museum's entrance hall waiting for the beginning of Genesis Canyon, the opening performance of the 19th Dance Umbrella Festival, I began to wonder how many events I had attended in unorthodox locations during my more than 25 years as a dance-goer. My memory con- jured up a wealth of different places, from Maurice Mart's choreographic adaptation of Petrarch's Triumphs, performed in the Bobbli gardens in Florence, to the Momix company, who chose the Leaning Tower of Pisa for one of their most engaging cre- ations.
Sites which were not originally designat- ed for dance have been used for choreo- graphic purposes since the beginning of this century. The forerunner of such a trend was probably Isadora Duncan who, scantily clad, started to skip and hop amid the ruins of some Greek temple (or in the much safer gardens of some wealthy busi- nessman) trying to revive ancient Greek dancing and creating that genre known as `modern dance' instead. Unexpected places also became a distinctive feature of the early Sixties American Post-Modern dance movement and, as such, have recently been rediscovered by the representatives of the European 'new' dance.
Genesis Canyon could be classified as a Post-Modern work, for it contains all the characteristic elements of that particular genre, namely the interaction between a given architectural structure and the dance — where one prompts the other which, in turn, becomes the visual complement of the former — as well as the use of addi- tional theatre languages. It would be erro- neous, however, to consider the 45-minute-long performance, conceived, directed and choreographed by American- born Stephan Koplowitz, as a mere regur- gitation of .old formulas.
Unlike most of its illustrious Post-Mod- ern antecedents, Genesis Canyon stands out because of its refreshingly straightforward imagery that does not demand any cerebral investigation of form, structure or meaning from the viewer. The history, the tradition and the atmosphere of the Museum are clearly evoked by the various dance sequences and by the humorous intrusion of three singers dressed as late Victorian visitors (Sarah-Jane Morris, Barnaby Stone, Jonathan Stone), whose stunning rhythmical speech sounds bounce from wall to wall.
The action of the 40 dancers, based on an eclectic compendium of styles and tech- niques, changes according to the different areas used by the performers and shifts from symmetrical solutions, in which the architectural symmetry of the hall is mir- rored, to a more natural range of free movements, possibly an indirect reference to the museum's specimens seen as living entities. Both the beginning of the piece where the dancers' bodies cover the central staircase and then come gradually to life and its end — structured on what some might define as a sort of 'jazzy' routine are particularly eye-catching.
Rich imagery and brevity are the two winning factors of this performance, which never gets weary. Even some slightly pre- dictable choreographic sequences — such as the one performed in the upper gallery with the dancers appearing from each arch — do not spoil the fluidity of the work. The key word here is entertainment, much to the dismay of those who consider culture and sheer enjoyment as not compatible. And good entertainment it is.
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