Richard Chappell Dance presents a mixed bill—both in terms of content and enjoyment—celebrating the relationship between dance and music, narrative and the world around us.
Performances from early career choreographers Juan Sánchez Plaza and Cornwall-based Aisha Namaani and a piece by Plymouth’s Rhythm City Dance keep it very local, while one of two extracts from RCD’s acclaimed creations was inspired by Chappell’s own childhood on the South Devon coast.
First up is Kadus Smith’s lively street dance Memories from Rhythm City performed by nine talented city youngsters to “June” by Pip Millet. Short but energetic and sweet.
Namaani performs her own interesting piece No Idea What I’m Doing. Dramatic and blue, with a chair, present and knee pads, the lithe, energetic Namaani explores what adulthood might be. With a puppet-master-like medley ranging from choral work to the spoken word, Namaani clowns and postures while displaying carefully honed skill and fluidity.
Next is Chappell’s Land Empathy, commissioned by Theatre Royal Plymouth, which is a dark, atmospheric and brooding piece aiming to foster climate consciousness. Dramaturg Neus Gil Cortes speaks of urgency for the future while grieving the past but all the while somewhat loses focus as played on a dark, smoky stage. Marla King is superbly intense and lissom in both solos and pas de deux with a rather hesitant and stilted Plaza.
The indefatigable King is up again after the interval with Chappell’s second piece, Silence Between Waves, this time synchronised with a very competent Imogen Alvares. The pair emulate the flow and ebb of the waves, the wide-open coastal spaces—enough to be able to play socially distanced football and give a sense of freedom we are told by definitely not local Devon voices—and connections.
Plaza’s own light-and-shade somewhat bonkers piece The Renegade Master closes the night—and just as well given the debris left behind. Opening with voiceover platitudes and clichés urging us to imagine a world where borders are dissolved and cities are alive with glee, where kindness is a currency etc etc, it all gets a tad turgid as a large grotesque patchwork slug slithers ponderously on stage.
The mood starts to change as the voiceover drops familiar one-liners and the slug hatches into a Donald Trump caricature raving and screeching, gesticulating and shedding dollar bills.
At the ‘only two genders’ pronouncement, Plaza and the bouncy Isabel Alvarez Pinazo are galvanised into defiant rainbow banner-waving, lurex unitard-wearing twerking and flashing neon jacket-led audience invasion urging hand-holding and an invitation to an on-stage disco.
An odd cohesion but uplifting.