Dance review: Joshua Beamish/MOVETHECOMPANY provides pandemic relief in Proximity
The B.C. choreographer-dancer’s virtual program of short works is full of hope and possibility
Proximity: A collection of short works, a Joshua Beamish/MOVETHECOMPANY production. Co-presented by the Dance Centre and the PuSh International Performing Arts Festival as part of the Dance Centre’s Global Dance Connections Series. Streams until March 11
RESTLESSNESS, HOPEFULNESS, FATIGUE, and discovery: they aren’t keywords from a year of COVID-19 but some of the ideas that B.C. choreographer-dancer Joshua Beamish of MOVETHE COMPANY evokes in Proximity: A collection of short works.
From a beautifully shot film of Beamish dancing along railway tracks to a solo that starts out with him making his way out of fishing nets, the program illustrates his versatility and command of movement. Ever since his earliest days, he has been a bright light on the dance scene, and this mixed bill shows why he has deservedly reached a level of international esteem in his career. And if the grind of pandemic life is bringing you down, Proximity is a refreshing relief from it all.
The virtual show opens with Falling Upward, a gorgeous film version of the work Beamish choreographed and performs, which had its world premiere at the Sechelt Arts Festival this past October. With Scott Fowler behind the camera, Beamish makes his way along a railroad, slicing the air with his arms. He springs over abandoned tracks overgrown with bushes, passes through a graffitied tunnel, and even moves through a shallow stream—all with impeccable rhythm and infectious energy that echo composer Stefan Nazarevich’s original electronic score, Cloud Fractal. Even when he accelerates and you think he might spin out of control, Beamish is always in control, reigning in any off-kilter momentum. In an old loading bay, he lunges deeply and slumps against a wall, only to rebound. The piece takes on a contemplative tone when the camera focuses skyward, swirling to the clouds, or zooms in on Beamish’s graceful hands. Falling Upward pulses with purpose.
Renée Sigouin performs the world premiere of Beamish’s Lost Touch, which has a deep sense of yearning. It begins with the lithe dancer staring straight forward intently, holding one arm out in front, reaching, the other crooked behind her back. She turns and turns within lighting director James Proudfoot’s circles of light splashed the stage floor, at the centre of a floral disc. It’s set to the lush, layered, insanely beautiful Don’t You Forget About Me by Totally Enormous Extinct Dinosaurs, with harmonies that speak to heartbreak. The music stops and starts; at times Sigouin is hunched over, fists on floor, or on her back, spent. A lasting image is when she looks to the heavens, clasps her hands and brings them to her chest, as if lifting herself up. If nothing lasts forever, the same goes for sadness. Speaking Beamish’s taut vocabulary, Sigouin leaves us feeling hopeful.
Beamish’s rigorous choreography is rooted in classical technique, as seen in Proximity, a duet he performs with Sigouin. (Commissioned by Fall for Dance North, Toronto, it was originally performed and created with Rena Narumi for its October 2020 world premiere.) They don’t mirror each other exactly, but they are fully in sync, a couple that’s deeply connected but entirely their own selves. The movement is clean and precise, sometimes rounded and swift. Set to S.T.A.Y. by Hans Zimmer, the piece is a reflection on togetherness and how we can be together but apart, apart but together.
Beamish also performs two solos that were choreographed for him in the program that’s just shy of an hour. Netherlands-based Belgian-Colombian choreographer Annabelle Lopez Ochoa’s Redemption (which premiered at the 2020 Sechelt Arts Festival) is the most balletic work of them all, opening with the sounds of haunting chants, Beamish backlit. There are moments of sadness, fatigue, and despair—but these are just flashes in a poetic work that celebrates the human spirit.
Ablaze amongst the fragments of your sky, by Ballet BC artist Kirsten Wicklund, has a dramatic opening. Beamish, dressed in nothing more than boxer briefs and socks, squirms under heavy-duty fish netting. Wicklund did the marine-themed sound design, drawing from the Sea Organ Sound Installation by Nikola Basic and recorded by Miles Copeland, which brings to mind steel and rocking boats of a nighttime harbour.
Beamish makes his way out of the rope, the piece as much a study of solitude as an ode to the joy of discovery. He travels laterally with high knees like a kid sneaking through a forest, moves on all fours close to the floor, and puffs up his chest peacocklikc. If Beamish is an everyman here, he brings newness to movement, freshness to physicality, and possibility to our everyday existence.