The new dance performance by Blanca Li, “Goddesses and Demonesses” (“Déesses et Démones”), world premiered this past Tuesday at Théâtre des Champs-Elysées in Paris.This isn’t the first time that Blanca Li draws inspiration from Greek art and mythological figures. In 1998 she created the ballet “Le Songe du Minotaure” for 8 dancers at the Biennale de Lyon, staging them in a Dionysian atmosphere as Greek statues in motion. Having castrated the Gods a priori, “Goddesses and Demonesses,” delves deeper into Greek myths, celebrating in its upheaval of powerfully opposing female forces. Together with the Russian star dancer of the Bolshoi Ballet, Maria Alexandrova, Li attempts to infuse classical themes with contemporary aesthetic.The two begun rehearsing last October between Paris and Moscow, binding and at the same time contrasting their dance techniques, stylistic differences and personalities, to bring forth a ninety minute performance comprised of solo and pas de deux acts, embodying the femme fatale archetype in an attempt to empower and to ennoble women.Pierre Attrait’s stage set of giant venetian blinds allows for the light behind them – designed by Caty Olive - to cast shadowy stripes onto the floor and onto Alexandrova during her graphic, fluid, and sensual solo dance. Possessed by lust, she perches on what Susan Leigh Foster calls, “the phallic pointe” and contorts her flexible body in a seductive portrayal of feminine desire. Li then enters barefoot in a black dress designed by Sophie Théallet, stalking across stage, striking demonic arm gestures mixed with knee lifts commonly portrayed in ancient Greek iconography. Her silhouette is then projected and doubled, followed by a blackout which unveils Alexandrova who, dressed in a white ball gown reminiscent of Madame Grès, brings light to the darkness cast by Li. The two enact a series of simple steps and jumps, bending their torsos sideways and arching their arms, as if pulled by opposite forces yet move in intermittent synchronicity. They then strike individualized poses amid their silhouettes projected in B&W, which complement their yin and yang duality. One more projection of a Medusa with animated snakes in place of hair acts as prelude for the next scene.Li downstage left in a white dress, sat on a piano stool with her back to the audience, makes lyrical moves with her arms above her head and around her torso. Her counterpart, a black clad Alexandrova, follows the same sequence but sits facing the audience atop a stool on the other side of the stage. One recognizes here, clear remnants of choreographer and étoile dancer of the Paris Opera Ballet, Marie-Agnès Gillot’s choreographic contributions to “Goddesses and Demonesses” prior to her sudden departure from the production. She recently performed this piece alongside Marianne Faithful, at Silencio and Maison Jean-Paul Gaultier.The two dancers wear Swarovski crystal-studded, iguana masks courtesy of accessories designer Erik Halley. Perhaps to imply horror, invoking Athena who wore Medusa’s head as a symbol of the “mother’s” genitals, these masks are as spiky as vagina dentata. Projections of silhouettes of animated phallic snakes grow above the stage. After Freud’s equation of decapitation with castration, in Lacanian discourse this would be symbolic of a woman’s power despite her lack of the phallus, which also becomes a possession.After this turns into a cabaret chair dance, they take off their shiny masks and their sparkles turn into an animated projection of particulate stardust on a backdrop – that could have been an advertisement for Swarovski – serving as accompaniment to a duet based on alternating, easy partner lifts, that has no fluidity and no music coordination whatsoever.The rather cheesy, expository voiceover referring to demonic aspects of women intervenes twice, and is part of the “psychoacoustic setting” by Tao Gutierrez, Li’s brother, which struggles to conjure atmosphere, mood made impossible by jarring transitions from one track to another – ranging from Camille Saint-Saëns, to Chopin and Isaac Albéniz - especially during Alexandrova’s following solo.For Alexandrova, who has been cast as Odile/Odette in the “Swan Lake” more than twenty times, it wasn’t difficult embodying two opposing roles all in one go. She enters the stage in a white dress, gliding across on the tips of her toes, undulating her arms in a Pavlovian manner. When the music suddenly goes witchy and scratchy, her previously harmonic gestures become prickly and fast, she transforms into a human-spin top with her dress inflating during her tours châinés en pointe. Her balletic prowess evidently enriches Li’s contemporary technique that is short on artistry.When she parts, blossoms in various colors project onto the backdrop and enlarge then gradually move forward reaching a tromp l’oeil effect - Georgia O’Keefe’s female genitalia-flower paintings spring into mind. Li enters the stage in a vibrant red dress designed by Stella McCartney and swirls before sinking down to the floor to take on a series of liquid arm positions. Her spiritual connection to the blossoms shows as these anthropomorphize in the projected video animation: their petals turn into dresses, and their bud forms the upper torso of the dancers.In bloom and wild, a moment of kaleidoscopic blossoming commands the stage as this Edenic place is mirrored on the reflective flooring, embracing the totemic, seated Li. Alexandrova then enters in an identical dress but in yellow, her entire body erect and swirling ethereally. Echoing Loïe Fuller’s “Dance of the Lily,” this femme-fleur multimedia act is stunning to look at, and foreshadows the skirt dance in the following scene.Li enters with a long, silk red dress emulating a bullfighter as she strikes poses with her Spanish flair to then manipulate it à la Loïe Fuller – her “Serpentine Dance,” (1896) that was well-put by McCarren as “an uncanny resemblance to an uterus,” inspired numerous dancers over the years to create their own versions. Li continues to mutate sculpturally as she drapes the fabric over her head and shoulders, until she lets herself fall down to the floor. Holding a lit torch, Alexandrova parades in the dark and then, that mind-blowing moment comes, when a beautifully drawn projection blows its flame out, as if by magic.Totally hypnotizing is when the two dancers, now wearing black tulle long dresses, re-enter the stage and seem to be cast by Pandora’s daughter Purrha (Fire); they become one with the fumy atmosphere, whirling and spinning around until they dematerialize beneath the vaporous cloud.For the last dance, Li in a red dress and Alexandrova in a royal blue, both with undressed dark hair down to their waist, enter a trance dance as seen in the promo video “Feathers,” that Li directed for John Nollet’s natural hair collection in 2014. Like madwomen, with their wandering wombs leading their hysteric convulsions and passionate attitudes, they sway with vibratory movements, headbanging and rolling along the floor.In some ways, “Goddesses and Demonesses” recalls Hussein Chalayan’s debut “dance” production earlier this past autumn. Its Salomania and exhibitionary quality was well received by the audience, who were perhaps seduced and spellbound by the glamour of haute couture dresses - ranging from Azzedine Alaïa, Jean-Paul Gaultier, Stella McCartney and Sophie Théallet - Charles Carcopino’s otherworldly projections, and John Nollet’s hair styling - evolving from chingon, to long braids, and to natural extensions. It seems that the rather dry choreography went unnoticed: posing, walking, swirling, and whirling – and da capo. And I am left wondering whether this was meant to be something in-between, a fashion shoot, a beauty product advertisement and an extended catwalk.The production runs through to January 3, 2016, at Théâtre des Champs-Elysées, Paris.
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REVIEW: Phallic Snakes, Whirling Veils and Wandering Wombs in Blanca Li’s “Goddesses and Demonesses”
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