They Got Rhythm

Good Morning, Mr Gershwin – Compagnie Montalvo-Hervieu/ France

St James Theatre, 17-20 March 2010

Why wouldn’t you use words to express yourself? Perhaps because you are underwater, acting a mime, haven’t learned to speak yet, are lost for words being struck dumb through emotion; perhaps you and your community have never been given a voice. Compagnie Montalvo-Hervieu explore all of these options and more as they dance their way through a passionate tribute to George Gershwin.

The backdrop to their frenetic movements is a series of projected images of people underwater; they run in slow motion and primary colours, or they swim naked above sandcastles which are later destroyed by rain. The French are much less prudish about full-frontal nudity than we, but even so, there are a disproportionate number of perfect breasts and waxed  (female) genitals. Swimming naked is a liberating expression of humanity in its purest form with a feeling of freedom and weightlessness, which may also be the essence of dance, but the visuals can become distracting.

Just as Gershwin flitted between many forms, incorporating high culture and tradition, so the dancers sweep boldly through artistic genres. We are treated to an evening of mime, tap, ballet and hip-hop where we are equally likely to see a break-dance dance off to a graceful movement en-pointe; a group gyrating like jerky mannequins or finger-clicking gymnasts performing the splits as though on acid.

Barriers between art-forms are swept aside and boundaries blend. The high energy and bright palette of a vibrant Broadway musical are obvious in numbers such as Strike up the Band. Clockwork musical figures wind up to I Got Rhythm while a shadow silhouette dance provides Let’s Call the Whole Thing Off with elements of comedy. A tap-dancing crab; a bathing belle with a beach ball, and a gargling diva all bring new interpretations to familiar melodies and have the audience laughing and humming along.

The mood alters dramatically with a soulful gospel section from Porgy and Bess. The black dancers of the company huddle around a shack while the projection behind depicts a cyclone with malevolent waves threatening to crush and destroy their tiny haven. This is the best use of the screen; once again when it switches to scenes of public lynching, children crying, race riots and violent protests it paradoxically loses its impetus.

Summertime is intensely harrowing amidst these surroundings. Although the music is known for its powerful harmonies, the dancers perform isolated solos, drawing attention to the racially-charged times in which Mr Gershwin lived. If dance is a form of expression, then Good Morning, Mr. Gershwin is the ultimate emotional outlet.