I mean really dancin

Saw Emio Greco at the Barbican last night. Those who know me will know that I end up seeing quite a bit of dance, without dance necessarily being my thing. Occupational hazard of going out with a choreographer. As a result of this, I have become something of an armchair expert on dance and choreography. I know when to chuckle, when to yawn, when to groan with frustration at a tired iteration of a contemporary dance cliché.

Now a lot of contemporary dancers purport to eschew technical excellence and virtuosity as empty and pointless, insisting that this enables them instead to concentrate on what they are trying to say choreographically. The danger with this approach is that, to the uninitiated, their work can end up looking like a fat bloke trying to draw your attention to the fact that you’ve forgotten to turn your headlights on. You can’t help suspecting that they are eschewing virtuosity because they haven’t got the chops.

Not this guy Greco. He was one of the best technically I have ever seen. Incredibly fast and fluid. Reminded me at times of proper dancers like Michael Jackson or Fred Astaire. There was just a presence and an impact to everything he did that I think has often been missing in the contemporary dance I have seen. We met up with some philosophers in the bar afterwards (really!) and the view was canvassed that this work was too self–indulgent. I disagree. If contemporary dance is to have any relevance for people other than those who are educated to a post–graduate level in it, this sort of stuff is precisely where it needs to be at.