There’s an irony, of course, in a piece about English identity that’s made by an Israeli choreographer, with a cast from Taiwan, Iceland, Belgium and elsewhere, just two Britons among them. Shechter II is the younger branch of Hofesh Shechter’s company, all recent graduates (superlatively talented, needless to say). Having newly taken up residence here they’re getting a crash course in English cultural studies. Will it make them want to get the first flight home?
Shechter, to be fair, moved to the UK 20 years ago, so he’s had plenty of time to observe the contradictions of the country with his critical eye. His dance language may still be strongly influenced by his time with Batsheva Dance Company in Israel, but you can’t say he hasn’t fully absorbed the subject at hand.
The eight dancers appear dressed in school uniforms, with blazers and ties, and rousing Elgar blasting through the speakers. This is the green and pleasant land of private-school self-assurance, but, by the end, these same students look utterly lost. In between, there’s a catalogue of images and sounds – sometimes so fleeting you’re not sure if you imagined it: punk rock rebellion and raving, the royal wave, heavy rain, clay pigeon shooting, football hooligans, Hogarthian depravity, the war wounded, Purcell and Tallis, the clattering of a china teacup (more like a whole tea shop crashing down, actually. There goes the empire …)
