December 2, 2011
At Swim Two Boys is a dynamic and mesmerising piece of dance theatre, by turns joyous and tragic. The choreography not only tells the story of the play - a romance between two boys in 1916 Ireland - but also creates two distinct characters, one bold and playful, the other shy and thoughtful. Both dancers, Daniel Connor and Murilo D’Imperio Leite, are superb, and their graceful movements are beautiful to watch. Through movement alone, and without dialogue, Connor and Leite convey the nuances of their characters’ developing relationship and of their gradual loss of innocence impressively well.
The choreography really is arrestingly beautiful, and the dancers sometimes seem to be floating through the air as if it were water. (The play is set at the seashore, with the characters’ swimming acting as a metaphor for their relationship as a whole, so the motif of floating is a logical one.) The directors have taken this setting a step further: the stage is covered with a thin layer of water, and the backdrop is a wall with water flowing down it. The splashes punctuate the choreography and add intensity to the dancers’ more abrupt moves, and the sprays of water illuminated by the set’s bright lighting add another visual layer to the performance. In fact, the water alone makes the performance worth seeing; it’s an original, innovative device and very well executed.
The music plays a key role in the piece as well. The variety in the genre of the music, reminiscent at times of everything from jazz to heavy metal, is well-suited to the story. Its many shifts accelerate the pace and clearly demarcate the different scenes, and the musician playing a drum or an accordion on stage is nicely integrated into the performance. The lighting, too, is nicely designed: it is both warm and strong, the sharp shadows on the performers’ faces adding drama and emotional intensity to the story.
Most important, At Swim Two Boys is the most emotionally satisfying dance performance I have ever seen. I found myself smiling back at the performers as they grinned at the audience during their dance, feeling truly happy to be watching their representation of joy. The climax brought all the fear and sorrow needed for a feeling of catharsis, and as the lights faded to black, leaving only the sound of trickling water, the play came full circle, echoing the opening scene. Feeling fulfilled, stimulated, and happy, I left the theatre with only one regret - that the performance had ended.
The choreography really is arrestingly beautiful, and the dancers sometimes seem to be floating through the air as if it were water. (The play is set at the seashore, with the characters’ swimming acting as a metaphor for their relationship as a whole, so the motif of floating is a logical one.) The directors have taken this setting a step further: the stage is covered with a thin layer of water, and the backdrop is a wall with water flowing down it. The splashes punctuate the choreography and add intensity to the dancers’ more abrupt moves, and the sprays of water illuminated by the set’s bright lighting add another visual layer to the performance. In fact, the water alone makes the performance worth seeing; it’s an original, innovative device and very well executed.
The music plays a key role in the piece as well. The variety in the genre of the music, reminiscent at times of everything from jazz to heavy metal, is well-suited to the story. Its many shifts accelerate the pace and clearly demarcate the different scenes, and the musician playing a drum or an accordion on stage is nicely integrated into the performance. The lighting, too, is nicely designed: it is both warm and strong, the sharp shadows on the performers’ faces adding drama and emotional intensity to the story.
Most important, At Swim Two Boys is the most emotionally satisfying dance performance I have ever seen. I found myself smiling back at the performers as they grinned at the audience during their dance, feeling truly happy to be watching their representation of joy. The climax brought all the fear and sorrow needed for a feeling of catharsis, and as the lights faded to black, leaving only the sound of trickling water, the play came full circle, echoing the opening scene. Feeling fulfilled, stimulated, and happy, I left the theatre with only one regret - that the performance had ended.