Russell Maliphant Dance Company: Landscapes review

In a revolving spotlight piercing the dark, Proietto, with a white stocking cap on his head, is propelled by the minimalist melancholy of Satie’s Gnossiennes. The delicacy and precision of his swirls, swoops and spins is captivating. As Hulls’ molten lighting design spreads out and creates a morphing pattern across the floor like shifting clouds, so Proietto’s movement expands, while still retaining a transfixing elegance tinged with sadness.

Next, Alina Cojocaru takes on the challenge of Two – an eight-minute adrenaline jolt that has been performed by Sylvie Guillem and Carlos Acosta, among others. A square spotlight marks out her contained space, a tai chi precision and intent informs her movement, as a throbbing electronica score starts to build. Cojocaru looks magnificent – you can see the rhythm being turned into a pure energy coursing through her limbs. As her movement becomes more martial, so Hulls’ lighting works its spell and her windmilling arms and twisting torso blur before our eyes.

Maliphant, 64 and astonishingly agile, with a core strength that makes you whimper, saves himself till last. In a Landscape is a 30-minute work that frames him within different arrangements of curtains, making use of shadows and light effects. We start with Maliphant behind one diaphanous, ruched sheet, captured in a series of flash frames. Another flat curtain drops and a clever game is played out, whereby Maliphant casts two shadows on the same surface and makes them interact – touching hands, leaning back to back and so on. 

But as the piece continues it starts to meander and the last section – in which Maliphant ripples a large, gauzy curtain to create beautiful light patterns across its surface – goes on far too long. Most problematic, though, for this piece is its stage. Hulls’ lighting cradled the first two, but Panagiotis Tomaras’ lighting for In Landscape’s is more untethered. In a small space, I imagine it could be enchanting; on the large Sadler’s Wells East stage the drapes look small and rather silly, like bedsheets tacked up as curtains in student digs, and it curdles the magic.

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