'Labyrinth' is the name of Sidi Larbi Cherkaoui's choreography. Mazes intrigue because you can get lost in them and then insist on finding the exit. Along the way, a person then has all kinds of revealing experiences about himself. But Cherkaoui does not get to this passage. He immediately starts with symbolism. A dancer holds a wide band hanging down from the stage house. The band eludes her and flops back up. You could see in it an umbilical cord cut loose, but also the beginning of a dream, which breaks the daily structure and makes you descend into yourself. At the end of the performance, the dancer returns to this position: she has the band in her hands again and holds it firmly.
Between these two moments, we see one wandering scene after another in 'Labyrinth', without ever leading to self-reflection. The viewer has to make do with superficial indications of general human problems: how do I function in the group, can I take my freedom, what holds me back? Earlier work by Cherkaoui was instead distinguished by surprising combinations and authentic statements, as for instance in 'Rien de rien'.
'Labyrinth' pales in comparison. The show gets no further than fairy-tale twists and exotic pictures. It lacks an elaborate story. Drama is suggested, but soon the suggestion dissolves into nothingness. What remains are the recurring large groups of dancers, storming across the stage in long robes and wallowing like a wondrous sort of derwishes, afflicted with a classic fifth position. Whether these are priests or boys from the hood, the scenes babble on without any bumps or outcome. The play seems to revolve around the girl growing up with the band.
Different scenarios are developing, with large groups of men always setting the background. Men in the role of the classic corps-de-ballet, the patriarchy performed in the flesh. It seems a nice inversion, but the reference is not elaborated and remains as a given in the air. As does the reference to female pride in a flamenco scene on pointe or the male dance around a tree of life against blue horizon, with which the play ends. They remain loose, if suggestive images, sometimes supported by beautifully irregular group work.
Ultimately, due to the lack of connection or persistence of theme, 'Labyrinth' lapses back into mere aesthetic gestures in every scene. These cannot disguise the lack of drama or the expression of a deeper vision.
The second part of the new programme of The National Ballet is equally aesthetic. 'Timelapse/Mnemosyne' is by David Dawson, who was once associated with the National Ballet as a dancer and also in 2005 as resident choreographer. Masks, red gloves and multiplying film footage of dance scenes suggest elaborate symbolism.
Again, it sticks to allusions and lacks a deeper logic or a wrought unity. Indeed, Dawson seeks the spectacle. True, the projected images and texts allude to the theme of memory and the devastating effects of time. But appeals like "Reconsider everything" do little in the extremely clean stage setting, reminiscent of a museum or showroom. Indeed, the dance is mostly about effect. A rhythmic, vigorously swinging trio receives generous interim applause from the audience, but there is no connection to the rest of the choreography. They are beautiful ballet movements, in free-spirited classical style, but there does not seem to be more than a desire to please the audience behind them.
The Dutch National Ballet with 'Labyrinth' by Cherkaoui and 'Timelapse/Mnemosyne' by Dawson. Seen: 17 June Music Theatre Amsterdam.N still to be seen: 19 June (2pm), 21 to 25 June (8.15pm)
Fransien van der Putt and Maarten Baanders
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