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The Observer | 01. 1 0. 17 | THE NEW REVIEW 31

To g e t h e r w e

are stronger

Team skills, not star turns, are to the fore on the

fi rst UK tour by Carlos Acosta’s new company

‘Moving and

breathing as one’:

Goyo Montero’s

Imponderable from

Debut by Acosta

Danza at Sadler’s

Wells. Photograph

by Tristram Kenton

for the Guardian

Dance

Acosta Danza is the creation of Carlos
Acosta , the Cuban-born dancer who
retired from the ballet stage last year.
As a performer, he will be remembered
for the lustre of his dancing and for
the vivid humanity that he brought to
roles such as Romeo , Count Albrecht
(in Giselle ) and Crown Prince Rudolf
(in Mayerling ). Now, Acosta says, he
wants to pass on all that he has learn ed
to a new generation of dancers and has
launched his own company, based in his
native Havana.
Since its formation less than
two years ago, Acosta Danza has
performed all over the world; this is
its fi rst UK tour. Acosta’s ambition
for the ensemble is refl ected in the
big-name choreographers he has
assembled, and while the programme
of fi ve ballets stretches the dancers to
the limit of their abilities, it gives us a
good idea of their potential.
The evening opens with El cruce
sobre el Niágara (The Crossing Over
Niagara), choreographed by Marianela
Boán. The piece is based on Alonso
Alegría ’s play about the 19th-century
tightrope walker Blondin , who carries
a friend over the Niagara Falls on his
back. In Boán’s piece, the two men,
danced with tense poise by Carlos Luis
Blanco and Alejandro Silva and set to
music by Olivier Messiaen , prepare
for the dizzying feat. Physical balance
must be mastered, but there’s also a
power balance to be negotiated and
the work becomes a meditation on
human trust. The costumes could
be subtler. “Man-thongs,” my guest

work sequence in absolute harmony,

moving and breathing as one. As a

whole this is a forgettable piece, but

for those two minutes Montero sets his

cast on fi re and it’s terrifi c.

Twelve , by Jorge Crecis , is a piece

originally set on graduates from the

Place and involves a dozen dancers

throwing plastic bottles of water to

one another as Vincenzo Lamagna ’s

driving electronic score amps up the

pace. The performers dance as they

throw and catch – spinning, leaping,

whipping off high-velocity air turns

• and the split-second timing and
  the ever more complex logistics of
  the choreography force them into a
  desperate precision. Inevitably, bottles
  are dropped, but what Crecis is aiming
  for is not so much perfection as an
  absorption in the task so total as to
  lead to a loss of self.
  What we see, as spectators, is
  a team-building exercise whose
  intensity is somehow enhanced by
  its pointlessness. The piece also
  underpins Acosta’s determination

that his company should not be a

star vehicle. There are no principal

dancers, only the ensemble. Everyone

pulls together.

Acosta has retired from ballet,

but a bittersweet duet he performs

with company dancer Marta Ortega

demonstrates that he’s still very much

a performer. Mermaid , by Sidi Larbi

Cherkaoui , sees Ortega fl oundering and

weaving, clearly in an advanced state

of drunkenness. Relieving her of the

glass in her hand, Acosta attempts to

Acosta Danza: Debut
Sadler’s Wells, London EC1, and touring

LukeLuke

JenningsJennings

@LukeJennings1@LukeJennings1

Charlotte Spencer, 35, is a choreographer

whose work explores our relationship with

landscape and the environment. In 2015,

she made Walking Stories , which took

place in four London parks, as part of that

year’s Dance Umbrella. Th is year, Spencer

is presenting Is Th is a Waste Land?, an

immersive piece for up to 80 participants set

on disused land in east London.

How did you start working on this kind

of project?

I trained as a dancer at Th e Place , in London,

graduated in 2003, and spent the next few

years trying to be a performer. In 2007, I

moved to County Limerick and spent a year

with Daghdha Dance Company. In 2012, I made

a piece called Land for Siobhan Davies Dance,

which was set in Morden Hall Park in south

London. It was quite lovely, actually. And then

there was Walking Stories, an audio journey

with headphones and MP3 players, which

took place in Greenwich Park, Brockwell Park,

Springfi eld Park and Waterlow Park.

Where will Is Th is a Waste Land? take us?

Th e piece is set on disused land between

London City Airport and a former fl our

mill. I like to search out places awaiting

redevelopment. Demolished places – where

you might fi nd holes in the ground and

mounds of rubble. Th e performances are

timed to coincide with dusk. Th ere will be six

live performers and up to 80 participants,

wearing headphones. Th ey’ll be hearing

a series of instructions and a soundtrack

of various fi eld recordings. Th e choreography

occurs in the space between instruction and

interpretation.

So the participants are both performers

and spectators?

Spectators of each other, yes. Ultimately,

it’s out of our control. Unlike in a stage

performance, the audience has agency. So

there’s a precariousness and a delicacy about

the event and we can’t know what it looks like

until it happens. Th e piece is an invitation to

the participants to have a physical experience.

Hopefully, we’ll be harnessing a wilder,

more feral part of ourselves. I have

a rule: no phones. Otherwise,

there’s nothing to say about

how you should behave in

these spaces.

Is it diffi cult gaining access?

Th ere are always complex

political issues. For

developers, there are all sorts

of reasons to keep these

empty packets of land out

of bounds. Th ere’s health

and safety, obviously.

Th ey don’t want any

kind of liability for

anyone injuring

themselves. But

there are also

issues of control.

Th ere are times,

just prior to sale,

CHARLOTTE SPENCER

CHOREOGRAPHER

Q&A

when developers like to have artists around to

give properties an edge. But most of the time

they very much don’t want them there.

Why do you think you have this affi nity

for landscape?

I grew up in near Canterbury and loved spending

time outdoors, climbing trees and scrambling

about. My mum used to tease me about holidays.

I used to say: “I’m only going if there are pointy

mountains.” We went to the Swiss-Italian Alps,

the Picos de Europa in Spain and the Pyrenees

and I got a lot of energy from those landscapes.

In 2010, I made a piece called Mountain Dialogues.

I was interested in the way we hold time in

our bodies and the way this relates to the

imperceptible movement of mountains. In any

place I work I can’t help but be informed by

the particularities, the history and how and

whether it’s been peopled.

What can those taking part expect

to experience?

Connecting to these landscapes leads to a

wildness, and a chaotic experience, that I think

is beautiful. You say to yourself: “What

the fuck is going on?” In that sense,

it’s like life.

Interview by Luke Jennings

Is Th is a Waste Land? by

Charlotte Spencer is part of

Dance Umbrella. Performances

13-15, 20-22 October, Silvertown

Quays, London E16. Details:

charlottespencerprojects.org

whispered, concerning Leandra Soto ’s

barely there designs.

Belles-Lettres is a summery abstract

work by the New York City Ballet

choreographer and dancer Justin

Peck , set to music by César Franck.

The four men and four women

of the cast, brightly costumed in

turquoise and white, address the

music’s swooping romanticism with

dash and fervour, if not always with

fi nesse. Peck’s choreography has the

sweetness and astringent edge of a

Manhattan cocktail, but these dancers

serve it up like a mojito, with turning

wrists, loose necks and shoulders

and the ghost of a hip-shimmy in

grand allegro. It’s fun, but there are

moments when the musical phrasing

starts to unravel. As a dancer, Acosta

was so perfectly centred that he

appeared to have all the time in the

world. His dramatic expressiveness

and classical line radiated from a place

of calm and it’s this eye-of-the-storm

serenity that’s missing here.

The company’s best moment,

technically speaking, occurs in

the middle of Goyo Montero ’s

Imponderable. Set to music by Owen

Belton , based on songs by Silvio

Rodriguez , this is an aptly titled and

wholly opaque work in which the

nine-strong cast spend a great deal of

time either puffi ng at one another with

smoke machines or clambering around

the darkened stage with torches.

There’s a point at which the clouds

clear, however, and the dancers jettison

the props and swing into a jazzy fl oor-

stabilise her, but Ortega keeps folding

and collapsing in his arms and, like

the mermaid of the title, slipping from

his grasp. This is not the fi rst time that

the couple have danced this particular

dance, it seems, and it probably will

not be the last. In the course of the

piece, Acosta dashes off a couple of

stylish aerial manoeuvres, reminding

us that he’s by no means out of the

game, technically speaking. It’s good

to see him again and to welcome his

promising young company.

Acosta’s company

is no star vehicle.

Th ere are no

principal dancers,

only the ensemble

ipants to have aphysical experience.

, we’ll be harnessing a wilder,

part of ourselves. I have

phones. Otherwise,

thing to s ay about

hould behave in

ces.

ult gaining access?

always complex

sues. For

rs, there are all sorts

s to ke ep these

ckets of land out

s. Th ere’s health

y, obviously.

t want any

bility for

uring

es.But

also

control.

times,

to sale,

and I got a lot of energy

In 2010, I made a piece ca

I was interested in the w

our bodies and the way t

imperceptible movemen

place I work I can’t help

the particularities, the

whether it’s been peo

What can those taking

to experience?

Connecting to these lan

wildness, and a chaotic e

is beautiful. You sa

the fuck is goin

it’s like life.

Interviewb

Is Th is a W

Charlotte S

Dance Um

1 3-15, 2 0-

Quays, Lon

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