Ultima Vez and the Sum of its Parts

Amidst the insanity that emerged from the convergence of the end of the school year with no less than four dance shows in the last week of June, I unfortunately overlooked one worth noting. My guilt is alleviated by the fact that one of the most anticipated dance events of the season, the visit of Belgian company Ultima Vez, was sold out before it even began its run. It is rare that one has the privilege to witness Wim Vandekeybus’s choreography, so the show he presented, Spiegel, was all the more attractive as it is a retrospective of two decades of the artist’s oeuvre based on six of his works.

If there is an element allowing Spiegel to become a unified work, it is danger. The strong moments most always work because they have a high level of risk involved, and this from the opening sequence. A dancer comfortably lies down on the stage, only for another to come out raising his knees as high as possible for his giant steps to gain a maximal heaviness, and threaten to crush his comrade with his feet. The tension is palpable, as the number doubles and doubles again, dancers jumping high in the air, leaving those on the floor to quickly move before feet come crashing down a few centimeters away from where their face was resting a mere second before.

There is also tension of a productive nature though, like when dancers lean against each other in a seemingly antagonist fashion, yet in these positions find a basis for balance that allows them to remain on their feet. But such moments are rare. Dancers walk on stage carrying their partners, only to dump them on the floor as if they were carcasses. Or they jump to climb on a chair hanging upside down from the ceiling, only to then fall down from it. When the dancer makes his way back up again, the tension is that much more heightened.

What might be most impressive is that Vandekeybus manages to maintain an element of surprise, like when five dancers stand on the stage and five blocks drop from the ceiling, which they catch just before they hit their head. Though it is hard to judge the material, the blocks are hard enough to be thrown across the stage and make a sound when they hit the floor. No doubt that if it were to fall on someone’s head, the experience would not be a pleasant one. So when the performers begin to throw them at each other, moving out of the way at the last second, the sequence is effectively compelling.

Despite these strong moments, there are just as many spaces in between that make it lack cohesion. One could say that this is inevitable given that it covers six different works, but Ohad Naharin managed to pull off the same feat with much greater consistency just a few weeks ago with Danz, performed by Les Grands Ballets Canadiens. With a length of 90 minutes, these sequences could have easily been cut out to leave us with a much more coherent and powerful 60-minute work. Maybe again because of its multiple sources, Spiegel also has a multitude of strong endings that keep getting ignored until the work eventually capitulates under a more disappointing one. Still, there are more than enough great moments to remind us why Vandekeybus is one of the few choreographers able to perform to a sold out crowd.

PREVIEW As part of Festival Accès Asie and of the Circulations series, Tangente presents Geneviève La’s L’heure bleue and Jung-Ah Chung’s Connection, from May 9 to 11. For more information, call 514.525.1500.