A lyrical quality pervades this new piece, written by Sophie Lewis, a series of four short scenes linked by love. They are intensely beautifully choreographed, excellent use being made of a long stretch of muslin which now entraps a character, now releases her, manipulated with grace and precision by the ensemble. This ensemble, a group of actors making up the shifting cast, moves with great fluidity and it is their hypnotic and suggestive motion which is the principle delight of theses pieces.
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This constant half- dance, at times supports the action, and at times is the sole focus; at the start of one piece, What Time Is Dinner?, the ensemble are crushed together under the muslin (see right), the limbs contorted under the clothe, struggling to be free. The tension is reminiscent of Michelangelo’s unfinished figures for Julius II’s tomb, the flesh struggling valiantly to escape the cloying bonds of the marble. Indeed it is in these moments of dance that are strength of Spring Quartet; the speech appear clumsy, characters spilling out great tirades which froth into insignificance next to the graceful, yet eloquent simplicity of the dance.
In Woman Painting, for example, we are given a greater insight into the relationship between the female painter (Ianthe Roach, pictured bottom left) and her lover (Danielle Paffard) by the simple action of Roach laying her hand against the wall of muslin, than in all the sound and fury of Paffard’s assertions of love. Here Paffard fails to capture anything of the confused bravado of a man in love, which confuses the piece; if you have a female actor playing a male character, it is crucial to ensure they don’t act like a woman.
Paffard also leaves much to be desired as the sinister goddess Kali, bent on destroying Snayle and Sasha’s relationship in What Time Is Dinner?, spewing out an incoherent torrent of words.
The only actor who allows himself the time to revel in his words as happily as the other performers revel in the dance is Neil Makhija (pictured top left) as Snayle, his rich voice and sensuous smile suggesting a danger lurking with the doomed relationship itself.
This is a beautiful and challenging piece of work, but if the performers allowed themselves more silence, it would be truly wonderful.
