August 2008 Archives

Venue: The Hut, Pleasance Court (33)
Times: 11.45am everyday ending 28/08/08
Company: Fat Content - www.fatcontent.org

A charming, curious experience. Two nurses with a penchant for eggs and a soldier with a 'magic sack'.

     Set roughly in the early 20th century, peppered with Sinatra, TCP and macaroni cheese, The Man I Cure is an exercise in imaginative, endearing story telling. Quite what the story is at any one time may not be wholly apparent, but this should prove no displeasure, as the manner in which the show moves along is comparable to an excitable drunk recalling a particular anecdote in a language you are vaguely familiar with.

    Such is the result of the unique combination of dance, text and symbolism: whilst minute-long shin-digs, hard-boiled ovaries and an oblique reference to Missy Elliot definitely disorientated, I never felt a moment of token confusion. On the contrary, the performances were enjoyable due to a faith that their really was some coded communication being attempted, alike to Morse. Particular moments of poignant tenderness exacerbated this feeling.

    See this if you want to meet some quite enchanting fictions. As we've all been known to say, 'Come for the complementary macaroni and milk, stay for the company'.


-Quiche Lorraine

Venue: C soco (348)
Times: 10:55pm everyday ending 25/08/08
Company: [SEL] Live with Rose Lewenstein

A bare, minimalist site-specific exploration of consumerism within sexual politics.

     Strippers & Gentlemen straddles awkwardly atop its representation of a lap-dancing club. A cold experience, laced with particular moments of warmth and self-expression, S&G is successful in fulfilling commonly held notions of humans within the sex industry. But if [SEL] Live and Rose Lewenstein's intentions were to educate us further than what is generally assumed, there was an issue of provocation.

     What will be remembered of this show, and why will people see it; the promise of "sensory overload in [a] previously untouched space" (from the blurb), the opportunity to "Come, remain anonymous and witness the unfamiliar territory of this gentleman's club" or for the rare moments of genuine feeling and empathy?

     This was a well orchestrated production which manipulated its audience well. Sound and light worked in tandem to excite and distance in equal measure, as did the CCTV-like projections of grey streets, traffic, and a live video feed of the club itself. In the middle of all this the promenade performances tended towards mechanical lifelessness. The skill was there, in the choreography and movement, but the presentation of the dancers and their interactions was, I assume, intentionally cold. There was little time for real emotion in this previously untouched space. When it came, it was precious.

     It fell to the text, which generated a rare tenderness considering its Brechtian leanings, to support this production with backbone of actual substance within an atmosphere of temporary technical satisfaction.

- Quiche Lorraine