TILT - An Inspired Conversation

photos © Michael Slobodian / Choreography Jorma Elo Dancers / Alexander Burton, Racheal Prince, Daniel Marshalsay & Artists of the Company

Last night my friend and I attended Ballet BC’s Tilt, a three piece performance comprised of two world premieres (Jorma Elo’s I and I am You and Emily Molnar’s 16 + and a Room) and a remount of Johan Inger’s Walking Mad. It’s only gracing our city for three nights. Go see it if you can. Check out the trailer at http://www.balletbc.com/movies/2013_14_tilt.html

D: As far as I’m concerned Ballet BC is the strongest performing arts company in Vancouver. I know the Queen Elizabeth Theatre is a large venue, but I can’t believe opening night wasn’t full to bursting. At least you could tell the audience who was present really appreciated it.

C: Yes, you don’t often usually hear audiences at ballets laughing or reacting. I love that about Tilt, you don’t need to be a prima ballerina to enjoy it.

D: It pulls you in right? It’s accessible. And captivating. I was so riveted I kept forgetting to take notes!

C: That’s what it’s supposed to do! I just want to watch it again. I didn’t want any of them to end, they were perfectly timed, designed to leave you wanting more. The first piece I and I am You was so FAST for a ballet. I am just amazed by these choreographers, the images are so complex.

D: I was thinking something similar. I felt like I was watching a choreographer’s dreamscape.

C: There was so much movement, but never repetitive.

D: No, but there were echoes of movements to highlight things, multiple actions at once, in counterpoint, a ripple of cause and effect between movement and contact. I didn’t really get the imagery of the first one, but it was so fluid I was swept away. It felt playful, explorative, a discovery and celebration of the body. It was creature-like, alien.

C: And the way they manipulate you to look at a certain body part, the choreography focusses you. It draws your eye. And the lighting was so effective, the shadows on the muscles. . .

D: In the second piece, 16 + and a Room, with that slow pulsing light: in the darkness the stage turns into a mirror, like they were dancing on a lake. If the dancers were creatures in the first piece, they were machinery in the second. They fit into each other like cogs. That idea of being a part of something larger was enhanced with a crowd of dancers flowing on and off stage. It implied that we were just seeing a small part of a much bigger picture.

C: Precise yes. I felt the second piece was athletic and controlled. The way their bodies can express things without saying anything. It really moved me, I cried in every piece.

D: I only cried in the last piece, Walking Mad. But it takes a lot to get me to cry. All the pieces were emotional for me. It’s so visceral, without needing to know exactly what’s going on, your heart understands. One minute you’re joyful and the next you’re overcome with sorrow. It’s so pure.

C: I think the last piece was the strongest. The dancers were the most together, most solid.

D: It was my favourite too, but I think because it had more of a narrative than the others. I connect better to a story. If there isn’t one I always end up making one up, just a theme based on the imagery to help my brain make sense of it all.

C: The set was really powerful, the images it created. The first time a door opened. . .

D: Doorways are so provocative. The staging was so imaginative and practical! Flexible. That one wall became so many things.

C: And the way they used silence. I don’t know if it was intentional. You could hear her breath it sounded like crying. She was so emotional.

D: I think it was intentional because you could only hear her when it was appropriate. I love the way they do that. I know Ballet BC works with different choreographers, but there are certain elements that are consistent across the board. Their emotive bodies, the way they use silence and breath. The relationships they build are so powerful. This evening my mouth was just agape in wonderment.

By Danielle Benzon