I am sat looking at a white plastic cup. Fifty minutes ago this cup was one of many littering the stage of Our Oceans Are Drowning, but now it is sat proudly on my coffee table. As the piece opens a discourse about climate change, I fancied that the landscape of plastic cups on stage were there to represent the polar ice caps. Perhaps I am reading too much into this, but Rosalind Masson’s interaction with them in the space seemed to create an emotional resonance that anchored her choreography.At first the movement is predominantly floor based, as Masson explores the space through isolation of her body. She combines disciplined choreography with moments of permissiveness as she allows the forces of gravity to dictate the completion of the movement. The contact with the floor, and the slow pace it is executed with, creates a wonderful soundtrack which defines the choreography with a melancholic mood. The scale of movement increases to a point where Masson’s choreography creates chaos and destroys the regulated stacks of cups. Eventually, there comes a shift in the piece and the mood lifts. She takes her time to pick each cup up and reposition it stood on its head, bestowing one of the cups to an audience member during a repetitive dance sequence. This action of restoring and rebuilding the physical space, whether they are just cups or something more, is touching. Perhaps I am being romantic about Masson’s interaction with the cups, but I found it easier to connect with those moments rather than other sections of choreography. There is a moment when media sound clips discussing climate change are introduced, accompanying choreography that combines fragmented movements and identifiable gestures, such as strumming a guitar or opening a book. I found it hard to unify the literal and the poetic.This is Not a Dance follows Our Oceans are Drowning, and is introduced by its title being chalked onto the floor by stage hands. It is billed as trying to open a discourse and challenge the stereotypical representation of a dancer. I have to say it failed miserably. Instead of challenging the stereotype, Ultimate Dancer (self titled) merely manifested it on stage, in a bizarre and aggressive performance. The humour was lost on me and I fear that having it in a double bill with a serious new piece of choreography seems to undermine it. The whole piece appears to be a joke at the dancer’s expense, rather than a parody. One moment that struck me was the way Ultimate Dancer changed the title on the floor to read ‘This is Dance’ - she spat on the floor. Again, I appreciate this is done to generate humour, but I found the action really disrespectful.Although a misjudged double bill, it is an engaging show to see, even if you feel lost along the way. After all, I kept the cup. That must mean something.
