Universal Hall, Findhorn, 18 May 2012

DARKNESS falls in the Universal Hall, then the glass pentagon set into the centre of the floor begins to glow to the otherworldly sound of Huun Huur Tu’s Mongolian throat singing intertwined with wordless, ethereal Bulgarian voices.

MOVEMENT, shapes are dimly discernible in the gloom. Then an arm, a leg, a face, underlit, unspeakably eerie, appear over the pentagon as the voices become more urgent, more passionate. This is surely what it must have felt like, being at a ritual in a cave back in the Stone Age. The Rite of Spring doesn’t come close.

Kirstie Simpson

We’re used to improvisation in jazz and traditional music, whether on stage or in post-show sessions. We’re used to improv and standup comedy and rap. But in dance, everything is choreographed, rehearsed, and polished with nothing left to chance. It’s very rare to see improvised dance, and rarer still to see it done with the finesse, artistry and bubbling joie de vivre that Kirstie Simson and Michael Schumacher bring.

From its hieratic beginnings through sections which recall other great partnerships – from Laurel and Hardy to Morecambe and Wise – and an eclectic sound mix of hang drum, Japanese sax solos, cello, finishing with Tom Waits, it’s an enthralling evening shot through with humour and a refreshing refusal to take itself too seriously. In the middle of an exhilarating solo Simson pauses, raises her head and says in explanation, “We’ve been teaching all week”. Everyone laughs, understanding – now – how trammelled they must have felt.

The audience includes a good number of small children whose delighted, laughter-filled responses to the dancing add greatly to the collective pleasure. If you think improvised dance involves a great deal of arm-waving and inversely-proportioned artistic content, you need to see Simson and Schumacher perform. It’ll change the way you experience dance.

© Jennie Macfie, 2012

Links

• Bodysurf Scotland
• Katrina MacPherson film about Kirstie Simson
• Jennie Macfie