The Aluminum Show, Pleasance Courtyard

Lynne Walker
Monday 04 August 2008 19:00 EDT
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Usually found in the kitchen, humble aluminium is the star of this show (if spelt the American way). Devised by the Tel Aviv dancer Ilan Azriel, with fantastic designs and special effects by Yuval Kedem, the show's whimsical use of the metal offers unalloyed pleasure.

The action takes place on what looks like a lunar landscape, above which are suspended long silver coils, the ground strewn with slinky metallic serpents. The opening safety announcement is mimed by six metal-clad performers resembling extragalactic creatures. As the metalwork stirs, the materials take on a life of their own, morphing from pipe-shaped strands into ghostly dancing forms.

There's a chorus of metal hoses, each vocal part marked out by an individual strand, and a gigantic metal man created on a choreographed assembly line. This shiny world is peopled by acrobatic dancers who toss and tumble with silver cushions, work magic with deft puppetry, and breathe surreal life into the aluminium. Like the metal itself, the energetic, impressively co-ordinated performers seem lightweight and malleable in their sexless costumes.

The music moulds itself to the visuals, from heavy metal to electronic minimalism. After sheets of fountains and flames, and cannons firing silver rockets, lining the roasting tin will never be the same again.

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