A triple bill with two premieres should not, ideally, leave you feeling sick with nostalgia. Merce Cunningham's Rainforest dates back to the heyday of Andy Warhol, whose helium-filled silver pillows form a trippy space-age ecosystem for Rambert's ferally alert dancers to stretch, nuzzle and stalk through. It's an arcadian vision to cling to for the rest of the evening.
Disillusionment sets in with Seven for a secret, never to be told, artistic director Mark Baldwin's wonderless evocation of childhood. Set to Ravel's L'enfant et les sortileges as sliced and diced by Stephen McNeff, Seven is a choreographic slaughter of the innocents.
Ditching both the story and the structure of the opera, Baldwin sets out to illustrate the music, something he unfortunately tries to do using crayons. When the score skips, the dancers skip, when it slows they lie down and, gruesomely, when it essays a jazz lick they flap their hands and caper like a minstrel show. Watching Seven... I had the feeling that its creator was even less interested in it than I was.
Javier de Frutos's Elysian Fields at least has the courage of its convictions, even if these should include assault, battery and rape.
Inspired by A Streetcar Named Desire, it gruntingly brings to life that Tennessee Williams world where the strong are driven to crush the weak, because weakness feels like a mockery of something in themselves they cannot face.
Until November 19 (0844 412 4300, sadlerswells.com)
Triple Bill/Rambert Dance Company
Sadler’s Wells
EC1
