Ghosting Part 2: Cabaret
I’ve seen several hybrid works from mature choreographers recently, and I am noticing a recurring theme: Dancers are destined to grow old and go batty. Everyone is abandoning their art form in favour of minimalist movement, irony and satire. It kind of makes you feel a bit ripped-off when you’re paying eight grand a year to learn to ‘dance’.
Yet still, I find myself grinning with pleasure at Curham’s manic and incessant toe-tapping, foot-shuffling incantation of “one-two-three-four-five-six-seven-eight, and-one…” into a muffled mic. Yeah, I know exactly what that is. Number Eight and I are tight buddies from wayyyy back.
The show is most definitely entertaining. Curham performs with an incredible intensity. The space regularly changes and the audience is free to shift position for a better view. There are even chairs with wheels attached exactly for this purpose.
Headphones are hung over the chairs to provide a secondary audio experience. There is a lot of digital media used, and the movement seems to politely shove over to make room for it. YouTube makes an appearance; a young American girl’s video diary describes “spicy crotch”-scented perfume; as footage of people being shot in the head is played over and over in slow motion (in a section titled “Born Free”. Honestly).
A lot of it doesn’t immediately make sense but it doesn’t necessarily need to. It’s rather lovely to be engulfed by what appears to be arbitrary madness (but is in fact intricately crafted and well-considered choreography). Yes, I used the c-word. Naughty.
Ghosting Part 2: Cabaret appeals to a relatively narrow audience. It’s not at all conventional. but it is engaging. And if I’m going to end up as a batty old dancer anyway, I might as well indulge in these mad creations while I can.