Review: Chambre Blanche

Walls of white curtains, a white table, a black stool. It is in this simple, but luminous space that Michèle Noiret’s Chambre Blanche takes place. It is the Belgian choreographer’s first show in Montreal, and hopefully not her last.

Michèle Noiret’s Chambre Blanche, photo by Sergine Laloux

At first, the music is barely audible. The four female dancers appear one at a time, as quietly as the music, drawn to the table. Though the table retains its shape, the interaction that each dancer has with it shifts its appearance; it could just as well be a kitchen table as a work desk.

This first half of the show takes place in the utmost calm, and this even when all four dancers congregate onstage. They whisper secrets to each other. The breathing we can hear over the speakers, usually a grating cliché, here feels completely legitimate. The movement itself is like breathing, constant and peaceful, and once in a while a gasp, like a sudden breath in the night. This first section brings down the heartbeat and provides a great sensation of serenity.

And abruptly we fall in darkness. The music soars and a flash of light reveals a sole dancer in a schizophrenic fit. A line has been drawn and we are entering a different phase. The number of stools onstage rises with each entrance from a dancer, and brief moments of synchronization appear, a movement here and there, shared by two dancers, an occurrence that increases in frequency and length as the dance progresses.

The second half is a bit of a roller-coaster; a section builds up to a crescendo, and just when we think it’s the last big drop, another section begins like the clicking sound of the mechanism that is slowly but surely carrying us towards another drop. Like when Noiret slowly pushes the table around the space, always standing on the tip of her toes, making the table look as if it were floating above the floor. These sections are greatly enhanced by Todor Todoroff and Stevie Wishart’s original music.

And all this works not because Noiret and her dancers do a lot, but because they do just enough. Critics often use the word “breathtaking” to positively describe a show, yet we’d have to create an opposite but just as equally positive word to describe Chambre Blanche: “breathgiving.” It is near perfect. The only criticism I could muster up is that, given the preponderance of strong moments in the second half, it probably should have ended on one of them. I understand the feeling of release that the playful final section offers, but it doesn’t feel as satisfying as all those that precede it. A minor fault in the face of the overwhelming qualities that permeate the rest of the work. Chambre Blanche is without a doubt the best dance show of this first half of the FTA.

Dear Michèle Noiret, don’t make me beg you to come back to visit us. Even though I would.

Chambre Blanche continues at Agora de la danse until Friday, May 30, at 8pm. Tickets are 38$ (28$ for those who are under 26 years old) and can be purchased by calling 514.844.3822 or 514.790.1245. For more information on this and other FTA shows, visit www.fta.qc.ca

La Marea Last night, after the show, I walked down to Émery Street to catch La Marea, Argentine director Mariano Pensotti’s street theatre. The event is free and definitely worth checking out. It is composed of nine 10-minute slices of life (performed on a loop from 9 to 11pm) where the public has access to the character’s thoughts, feelings, and background stories through French and English surtitles. Though many choose to stay in one spot and watch a scene from beginning to end, I would actually recommend strolling slowly from one end of the street to the other. Instead of trying to construct the narrative of individuals, La Marea becomes a social narrative, as if the wanderer can read the character’s minds rather than their stories. The scene with red surtitles might be worth watching from beginning to end, as it has a nice temporality about it. Tonight, Wednesday, May 18, is the last performance, so make sure to catch it.