A spool of tape falls to the floor of an empty stage; the lights fade. As fragments of a Sibelius waltz fill the air, bodies appear from behind a curtain of black sparkling fabric. Covered head to toe in the same cloth, they look like sticky, slimy creatures, slithering across the floor, writhing in a heap.
Slowly they form an interlinked line, like a corrugated chain or a twisting backbone. In remarkable unison, and in perfect time to the music, they each raise a leg, with feet pointed or flexed, the movement flowing from one end of the line to the other. Hands, shoulders, heads all ripple and sway as the phalanx of bodies moves in an endlessly inventive pattern.
Finally, the individual figures break away, crawl under the curtain once more and emerge, now with heads, hands and feet bare, to explore a new set of movements both repetitious and unexpected. They seem to be finding themselves, creating new ways to gesture and to share. It’s rare in dance to feel totally intrigued by what might happen next, but Marcos Morau’s Waltz – the opening work in National Dance Company Wales’ Pulse double bill – holds a real element of surprise.
The Spanish choreographer set up La Veronal, an organisation that seeks to extend the boundaries of what dance might be. Waltz, his second piece for NDCW, reveals that sense of adventure, the willingness to explore the communicative possibilities of movement. With a soundtrack that samples Thom Yorke and Caterina Barbieri as well as Sibelius’s Waltz Triste, it creates its own world. The shimmering bodysuits and Bernat Jansà’s chilly lighting add to the uncanny effect. It is fascinating, intense and compelling.
NDCW is 40 this year, and celebrates this with a gala on 12 May. The company has changed a lot in that time, yet what is now impressive is how confident it looks inhabiting a contemporary world and how easily it – and its hyper-articulated and controlled dancers – can move from genre to genre.
The second piece, Say Something, by Sarah Golding and Yukiko Masui, also takes communication as its theme, yet operates within a completely different, principally hip-hop dance vocabulary. To the accompaniment of beatboxers Dean Yhnell (in person) and MC Zani (on tape), the dancers move in a loose-limbed group, feeling the beat through their bodies.
Against Joshie Harriette’s brightly hued lighting, and dressed in street casual clothes in greys with bands of pink and lime green, they might be a group of friends out clubbing. Yet as the work progresses, and the groupings change, you notice that although their movements are often similar, the emotions they’re expressing are diverse.
At one point, in a square of orange light, they gather around an overhead microphone. Their voices are muffled but the individuality of each dancer begins to emerge. As Say Something reaches a close, one returns to the microphone, snapping his fingers, beating his hands. It’s a lovely close to a work that, although slightly overextended, is full of verve and life.
What a confident way to celebrate a 40th anniversary on the part of artistic director Matthew Robinson and the entire artistic team. Llongyfarchiadau (congratulations) all round.
