Analogue, Rambert

Scene from Jill Johnson's Analogue. Rambert dancer Cali Hollister (in a white t-shirt) moves forwards, her arms crossed. There are three dancers behind her. In the background are several stone arches.

Rambert dancer Cali Hollister in Jill Johnson's Analogue © Camilla Greenwell

Who would you like to remember today?

If you could help one person today, who would it be?

These were the questions posed to us as we entered Stone Nest, immersing us straight into the world of Analogue, Rambert’s new work by Jill Johnson. Created to be displayed in more intimate venues such as this ex-church, the dancers are on full display from the second you enter while they warm up, before commencing this 50-minute non-narrative work in the centre of a 360 audience.

With such fine choreography, this level of intimacy is appreciated.

Johnson’s work develops from the arms, as they reach out, nearly caress, and ricochet back from various positions. The level of intricate detail is immaculate, right down to finger positions and the crook of a head. No such dancer achieves her vision more than Naya Lovell, whose muscular control is spellbinding - softly staccato and yet fluid, every fibre of muscle under her spell. Meanwhile, feet add breath to David Poe’s meditative electronic score as they sweep the group along, the church’s cavernous ceiling echoing the sound to a haunting degree.

That’s not to say that Analogue shies away from the big and the bold. Johnson’s experience as a choreographer and ex-Harvard faculty shines in her understanding of dynamics, constantly bouncing between the large (running in increasingly hurried circles; synchronous, sweeping arabesques) and the small (sensual duets and captivating solos).

Scene from Jill Johnson's Analogue. Rambert dancer Dylan Tedaldi (in a white t-shirt) kneels on the floor and looks up.

Rambert dancer Dylan Tedaldi in Jill Johnson's Analogue © Camilla Greenwell

With so much going on you would be right to think it was a tad overwhelming.

This was a work that packed a punch. The content was huge in its scope while very much sitting within the bounds of its lore. There was no climactic moment that it finished on, no development of the style. Just movement explored for movement’s sake. Which is fine. But when you reach the third round of solos, mixed duets and synchronous groups, it all starts to feel, dare I say it, a bit repetitive, even if the choreography was not. Depth and interest was added by the lighting, fantastically designed by Richard Williamson who creatively used a mix of toned lights and the work’s only set piece (an overhanging lightbox) to add to the atmosphere: dancers bathed in an orange glow like a savannah sunset was a particularly memorable scene.

But did the work answer the questions it set out to?

Did this overwhelming scope of dance leave me pondering those I’ve lost and wanting to call up those I know are in need? When you pick apart the piece, attempts at this philosophical narrative start to emerge. The orange glow of light could be reminiscent of the heavens opening, while the initial duet of two women leaning on each other for support, but never touching, and later imagery of soloists breaking away from the group can be interpreted as reflecting the struggling many. Furthermore, looking back, there was an overarching theme of connection. However, any attempt at a deeper message was lost to the overall abstract nature of a complex piece I look forward to seeing develop over time.

 

★★★★

Analogue by Jill Johnson, performed by Rambert

Stone Nest, London / 9 May 2024

Press invite

 

Find your next dance show

All dance shows happening across the UK, all in one place. Only on Like Nobody’s Watching.

UK Dance Calendar

 

Check out these related reviews

🪩 Brought to you by Like Nobody’s Watching. Read about our mission

Beatrice

Hi I’m Beatrice, creator of Like Nobody’s Watching and all around ballet nerd.

Like Nobody’s Watching’s aim is to raise the profile of dance in the UK and encourage more people to engage with this incredible and fascinating art form, one step at a time.

Previous
Previous

Swan Lake in-the-round, English National Ballet