28/04/15 Dog Kennel Hill Project, Eve

'Choreography of an Argument Round a Table' by Dog Kennel Hill Project
The Yard Theatre, London
28 April 2015


Dog kennel hill dog kennel hill dog hill kennel hill dog dog kennel kennel dog hill kennel I can’t, It’s too much.

Naked not for naked sake, but also just for naked sake, making it ok. It is a scary place to exist, where choices are exposed, and bodies, and formulas, and personality, but sort of not scary at all. It’s the kind of piece that makes me backtrack after every statement, perhaps because I’m a bit intimidated by the craft in conjunction with the tone. The deliberately hyper compositional structure mixed with erratic behaviour meant it could exude absurd mayhem whilst offering repeated times of recognition, to our amazement; an air of something similar to a crafted miracle. So in control of their own roles and interactions, but so out of control… Why can’t I commit to a sentence? Everything was supposed to happen and completely unpredicted, crazy but absolutely in control, humble and aloof, totally perplexing and also understandable. I think I’m in awe of their wizarding contradictions.

As the piece degenerated, everything became unhinged, which saw the structure become more dense. I found myself wondering how they kept it alive with unpredictability. Maybe it wasn’t as rigid as we thought, maybe they had particular rules for certain meeting points, but could act how they felt until that moment; a malleable structure that anyone had the power to spontaneously shift, something of refined compositional finesse.

Although it sounds this way, figuring out the strategy of the structure wasn’t actually how I spent my time. It was quickly accepted that this was how the rhythmic undercurrent would be played, which created the basis for their world to exist. This brought a weighty energy to contextual (slash) non contextual happenings that appeared ‘slung’ into the mix; which they were, wonderfully tossed. I imagine, ‘yes, let’s have a melancholic piano moment where a duet can live out a sensitive, sorry pigeon life’. Or, ‘I’m going to squirt you with water until you look decrepit and I’m bored of doing so’… None of these are quotes, just imaginary ones. Having said that, I truly feel the squirt duet was a precious moment of realness in the dance world, a ‘restoring the faith’ situation, among with Henrietta’s tragic break down. Her being beside herself, at the piece itself, partly her own creation, was absolute genius. Her despair was ours. I mean it was a political mess of the best kind.

I was charmed to see their struggles of hiding amusement at one another’s behaviour and reactions, they were living in the moment, the extremely choreographed moment but as themselves. I think this is what choreographic ownership looks like. In retrospect, maybe I fancied them all slightly.

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