Sylvie Guillem: 6000 Miles Away, Sadler's Wells, London
Your support helps us to tell the story
From reproductive rights to climate change to Big Tech, The Independent is on the ground when the story is developing. Whether it's investigating the financials of Elon Musk's pro-Trump PAC or producing our latest documentary, 'The A Word', which shines a light on the American women fighting for reproductive rights, we know how important it is to parse out the facts from the messaging.
At such a critical moment in US history, we need reporters on the ground. Your donation allows us to keep sending journalists to speak to both sides of the story.
The Independent is trusted by Americans across the entire political spectrum. And unlike many other quality news outlets, we choose not to lock Americans out of our reporting and analysis with paywalls. We believe quality journalism should be available to everyone, paid for by those who can afford it.
Your support makes all the difference.Some of dance's biggest names are brought together in 6000 Miles Away: superballerina Sylvie Guillem and choreographers William Forsythe, Jirí Kyliá* and Mats Ek. Guillem has an impressive commitment to new choreography, her taste often running to quiet, even grungy, contemporary work. Here, there's an intriguing contradiction between low-key dance and the splash of a major star.
The show is named for Japan, hit by disaster while Guillem was preparing this evening; an extra fundraising performance being added to the sold-out premiere run at Sadler's Wells. The title is the only reference to these events.
In 1987, William Forsythe created the lead role of In the Middle, Somewhat Elevated for the young Guillem. Still his best-known mainstream work, its explosive, slamming steps showed off her spectacular technique. The new Rearray is much calmer, but still highlights her cool intelligence.
Guillem and the Paris Opéra Ballet's Nicolas Le Riche twist through mercurial changes of direction. Movement starts in a curving arm, wriggles through the torso, then breaks off as the legs do something completely different. It's a cerebral, detached work; the dancers follow their own trains of thought, in no hurry to go anywhere in particular, the starry cast giving it extra force. Their movements are brilliantly articulate, a fluid Le Riche against the more nervy, electric Guillem.
Our star doesn't appear in 27'52", the revival of an inconsequential Jirí Kyliá* work. Kenta Kojiri and Aurélie Cayla wander and wind around each other, folding the floor cloth over themselves. On his shoulders, back to the audience, she discards her red top and dances the rest bare-breasted.
Mats Ek is another long-term collaborator. His new Bye, danced to a Beethoven piano sonata, is unexpectedly larky. On a narrow film screen, we see a glimpse of Guillem. She reaches up – and hands grasp the top of the screen as the real dancer emerges. The film is sometimes her reflection, sometimes a doorway through which others peer – including a dog – to see what she's up to.
Taking off her dowdy cardigan, she starts to dance with more scope: when she swings a leg up into a high extension, there's a purr from an audience that knows (and loves) Sylvie's six o'clock legs.
To 9 July (0844 412 4300)
Join our commenting forum
Join thought-provoking conversations, follow other Independent readers and see their replies
Comments