The New York dance company Welcome to Campire presents this new experimental show playing for a strictly limited run at London’s Space Theatre. Guillermo Nazara shares his views on the show, to let us know all the details about this stirring tale of romance and doom.
Nothing has more power to create and to destroy than the power of love. As brutal as it may sound (so you haven’t read my reviews yet, huh?), we can easily relate to that statement. Love holds us, raises us and even make us fly. But the same grip can suddenly drag us all the way down in one second and break us like we’ve never felt broken before. The infamous COVID times made many of us reflect about so many aspects of our lives – one of the most common being the relationships we were in. In a sort of futuristic reminder, the New York company Welcome to Campire has brought The Pigeon and The Mouse, a post-apocalyptic tale of passion amidst a pandemic that threatens to end the world (I assume it happened when Matt Hancock wasn’t looking… or after we knew…).
There are many elements to make of this a great story – and more specifically, a great dance piece. Combining spoken scenes with contemporary classic ballet sections, the works explores the bleak journey of two lovers with an uncertain fate. Bringing out plasticity and sensuality into its visual narrative, the montage manages to transcend at some levels through a suggestive (sometimes symbolic) approach. However, despite its attempt to unleash the crudeness of its plot, it still feels pretty much constrained.
Though featuring an overall interesting, evocative choreography, the performance looks as if played with excessive safety – too many times trying to hold grip in a montage where control should be lost for the sake of freedom. The chemistry between the two dancers (Tony Bordonaro and Ingrid Kapteyn) is no doubt palpable and sometimes electricfying, but some others there seems to be some undesired distance. And inspite of their almost technical impeccability and commitment to the material, there’s a glass wall that’s yet to be cracked so their true rapport can flourish.
A similar remark can be made about the show’s general conceptualisation. Its premise is nowhere far from exciting, but its delivery misses the point on several moments. Though there’s an intention for character and story development, their arc and construction seem to rely on an incomplete, unfounded structure – and though there is a line to follow through, there are a few major ingredients missing to make it compelling, understandable and, above all, better connected to its audience. Both dance and dialogue excerpts don’t blend too well and the pacing is severely affected by some unpolished scenes – ultimately, resulting in a recount that’s a bit too confusing and, sadly, sterile.
Drawing out the purest (and usually, darkest) reflection of ourselves is a task that ironically takes a lot of honing and reshaping – but that’s often how the most natural forms of art actually come through. The Mouse and the Pigeon knows what it wants to tell and has the tools to put it into action. But it needs to reassemble them so it can finally be set in motion. The ideas are there, but its heart is yet to be given its beat so, as the title suggests, it can run wild and fly high. Rest in reason. Move in passion.
Thumbnail picture credit to Thomas Rowell; inside picture credit to Natalie Deryn.
The Pigeon and The Mouse plays at London’s Space Theatre until 11 September. Tickets are available on the following link.