AT 45, Nina Ananiashvili dances the peasant girl Giselle with all the verve of a prima ballerina half her age. It is a breathtaking performance and one made all the more so by the conflict with Russia that started to unfold in her company's homeland
as the dancers took to the stage.
As a prima ballerina of the Bolshoi who took over the
STATE BALLET OF GEORGIA four years ago, Ananiashvili is the big draw in a production that is otherwise solidly and sometimes stolidly traditional. The backdrop is a cloying romantic mountain scene while the stage is framed by foliage. Twee, in other words.
None of that matters, though, when Ananiashvili is on stage. In the first act she is marvellously light-footed, suffusing great drama into her solos while never sacrificing technical precision. The scene of her madness is riveting – Ananiashvili shakes her hair free and whirls around in distress, arms undulating, before becoming limp as a rag. I couldn't take my eyes off her.
Her second-act transformation into the otherworldly spirit in white tulle is just as mesmerising. The corps de ballet are tight and elegant in their bouncing arabesques, but perhaps it is dancing beside this legendary prima that makes the company sometimes look out of step. Still, watching Ananiashvili in the role that made her is a privilege.
The company's mixed bill is, well, a mixed affair, beginning with two Balanchine works. Chaconne is a courtly ballet of group dances and pas de deux. The lines are flowing and soft, but the dancing is a little flat and lacks grace in the lifts. The second work, Duo Concertant, is infinitely better. Two dancers watch a piano player and violinist on stage before launching into a pendulous pas de deux, all slinky Balanchine hips and sinewy extension, to Stravinsky's restless music.
Ananiashvili dances flawlessly in Bizet Variations, an otherwise overly romantic and stylised ballet in which the timing is patchy. But it is the final work, Yuri Possokhov's Sagalobeli, that really stands out. Inspired by Georgian folk dance and music, it's a sumptuous piece combining a male duet with a rope, heel steps mixed with pointe work, and powerful, sensual group dances for men and women.
At the Fringe, the Zoo venues are picking up where Aurora Nova, the sorely missed home of international dance and physical theatre, left off. Nowhere is this more apparent than in
POLARIS, a heart-wrenching and poignant piece of low-fi physical theatre by Czech company Adriatik.
Two frostbitten, shaking explorers are on a mission in the Antarctic and their tragic tale is told through a series of short, stark vignettes. It is a 50-minute show of epic proportions. As the men advance through snowstorms and high winds (beautifully evoked by a scratched record), their spirit dissolves and the threat of madness nudges closer. Along the way, they morph into seals dancing the tango, swooping birds of passage, and clapping, waddling penguins.
I won't spoil the ending, but the astonishing final scene, which features two hands miming fish to Lou Reed's 'Vanishing Act', brought a tear to my eye. So often we associate mime with slapstick and clowning, but here are two brilliant performers proving that physical theatre can be eloquent, moving and deadly serious.
A lot of dance this year feels obscured by multimedia add-ons and big-scale production. Tom Dale's
RISE is a treat, then, thanks to its focus on beautifully choreographed, well-executed dance. Dale is an award-winning choreographer who trained at Laban and has danced with Matthew Bourne. He has created a thrilling work in which he and four other dancers in hoodies merge street dance, contemporary ballet, and the brio of clubbing to a brooding soundtrack of experimental beats. The pace may get lost but the dancers give it their all, whirling, spinning, and leaping in the near-dark in some of the most dynamic and occasionally menacing choreography you're likely to see on the Fringe.
CHILDREN OF CAMBODIA arrives in Edinburgh courtesy of Peter Gabriel and it was a huge hit at Womad earlier this year. I can see why, with its young, talented performers celebrating a culture almost threatened to extinction by years of dictatorship and destitution.
This is the next generation and in a series of routines – ancient temple dances of Angkor Wat, clashing coconut shells, dances based on cardamom picking and catching fish with bamboo cages – they look delighted to be here at the Fringe, proudly showing the renaissance of their heritage. With the scent of incense in the air, the dancers in beautifully ornate ceremonial dress, and traditional live music and chants, it's a feelgood vibe.
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