Reviewed by Frank McKone
January 10
Two main elements make this show a success, justifying the standing ovation Babel received on Tuesday.
First, the quality of the dance work by individuals and by the group in ensemble was outstanding, indeed quite frighteningly good, including especially the occasion when it seemed that a speeding performer had crashed into the constantly moving metallic frame set. It was a Pirandello moment – remember Six Characters in Search of an Author – and worked beautifully.
Alongside the movement was percussion, instrumental work and singing which would have made the evening exciting on their own.
The second main element was one of surprise for me. Over several Sydney Festivals I have seen “important” continental European works which failed by being essentially pretentious, sometimes overloaded with grand ideas, sometimes self-consciously post-modern in style but with little new to say. When I read how Babel came about I thought uh-oh, another “Let’s get everyone together from all over the world and show how we can overcome the babble of languages and conflicting cultures.” A good multicultural theme for Sydney, of course, but ripe for overloading.
But this show works, with “18 performers from 13 countries, with 15 languages, seven religious backgrounds and numerous performance modes between them” as dramaturge Lou Cope writes, because the basic structure – bringing disparate people together – is kept simple and in the end is grounded in the experience of the group itself rather than trying to make too much of the implications for the world. These ideas are played out – and even given as lectures – but what comes through to the audience is not that conflict will be resolved in a fantasy “real” world of politics and commercialism. We see a group of highly talented and individual people working together across all their differences as dancers, to produce a powerful ending which just made people stand up and cheer.
What a contrast this was with a determinedly modern piece some years ago repetitively showing us boring images of social failure for two and a quarter hours. Those audience members who had not walked out finally got to experience one more self-regurgitating movement sequence which, for no apparent reason, just stopped, and the lights just went out, with absolutely no emotional response possible except to be glad that it stopped.
Mind you Babel did need to stop after 1 hour 40 minutes. Some of the ideas in some episodes were too shallow, needing development or cutting; some images – though meant to be satirical – were too cliché; and there was a sense that, just as a jazz band has to give every member a solo, all 18 performers had to have their day on display. But then, their talent and skills would have made it hard to cut.
So, whatever God did to the Tower of Babel, the result for Sydney has been well worth the trip.
© Frank McKone, Canberra
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