Anaphase
The Israeli Bathseva Dance Company and its artistic director Ohad Naharin are, one might say, the darlings of both the audience and the critics. If truth be told, the company’s potential is exceptional and Naharin’s inspired moments can lead to impressive results, like the female soloist at the upper right end of the stage towards the end of “Anaphase”: it was a maelstrom of alternating motifs and small gestures. Similarly powerful was the beginning of the choreography, where all the dancers were seated in semicircle on chairs, executing the same movements in repetition whilst they were disrobing. The last dancer in the semicircle was the only one not following faithfully the others. The scene reminded one of an ironic comment on the different viewpoints in Israeli politics: the distance between the tradition and the practice of conciliation, as well as the anguish over the success or failure of this process.
Despite its dynamic introduction and the powerful last scene, the choreography was rather boring and aimed at impressing. It contained a few “charming” moments which appealed to the audience, such as when the dancers appeared to break the barrier between the stage and the seated spectators, by selecting some from the audience to join the dancers in a ballroom dance mélange (done already by Pina Bausch in “Carnations”). When the lights were switched on, the audience were asked to stand up and according to some cards read by a dancer in Hebrew and translated in French simultaneously, part of the punters sat down (those whose birthday is today must stand up, for example). Other unnecessary gimmicks included Naharin on stage, singing with the lyrics were shown in cards which became mixed up after a while; thus the meaning of the story became lost somewhere between the ironic take on love, the syrupy ‘60s music and Naharin’s wooden delivery.
I had waited for the performance with anticipation, despite my view that Naharin has been over hyped as a choreographer. My fears were confirmed by a naïve spectacle though he used jokes which could have been entertaining. However, the creator should have conceived them as such in the first place, which Naharin failed to do. Therefore, in the Auditorium in Lyon, what really survived was the commercial side of an overestimated company.