DANCE REVIEW: The Show Must Go On

We'd been sitting in darkness for about 10 minutes listening to a DJ's pop tunes when we realised there was no need to be a quiet, serious audience. And this proved to be the lesson in Jerome Bel's "The Show Must Go On" at Singapore's Esplanade Theatre Studio.

Finally, nine men and nine women came onstage, dressed in casual street clothes, and stood there for a moment staring at us.

Then the song "I Like to Move It, Move It" began and the people onstage went crazy. One of the women kept jerking the backdrop curtain, one of the men took off his T-shirt and swung it around above his head.

An older man was groping himself inside his trousers; an overweight man played with his belly; an attractive woman furiously stripped to her bra and panties and then dressed again.

"This is ridiculous fun," said the professional dancer who was sitting next to me.

The song ended and everyone collapsed, exhausted.

Then the tune "Ballerina Girl" began and all the men left, raising a laugh from the audience. The women onstage did some port de bras and other signature ballet moves in humorously clumsy fashion, evoking more laughter.

By then, the viewers had sussed the intention. By giving his utterly normal-looking performers a string of ungainly movements, Jerome Bel was painting a picture of the common man, untrained and insignificant.

While "I'll Be Watching You" was playing, we were given another reminder that we too were "being watched". The troupe walked off one by one, then returned with portable CD players and iPods.

Monsieur Son et Lumi่re - the show's DJ, lighting designer and director - summoned their attention like an orchestra conductor, and the piece began. Each performer was listening to a different song and sang the refrains. It was an observation about the moments when we're focused only on ourselves.

Bel challenges both audience exp-ectations and the traditions of dance. The supreme grace of classical move- ment becomes less important than the joyous mental leaps we take when we're listening to our favourite songs.

There is genuine beauty in the pedestrian - the "just dance the way you want" approach - and it touched audience members' hearts as the performers walked around randomly embracing one another while Nick Cave's song "Into My Arms" was playing.

Bel's ordinary but genuine comedy makes you wonder how he comes up with such provocative ideas. In a post-show discussion he had to explain one scene that went over most people's heads.

Jerome Bel

"In the previous song I had them drowning, and then they were saved by the 'Yellow Submarine'. Didn't you see the yellow lights behind the curtain?"

The audience wasn't altogether alienated by the performing techniques, and reacted in such an unconventional way that Bel was shocked.

"There's a boundary between the audience and the performers," he said. "You, the audience, have a duty to watch, so you watch."

Australian newspaper The Age reported that many in the audience for the show at the Melbourne International Arts Festival got up and danced when there was nothing happening onstage.

At the performance in Singapore, where it was part of Da:ns 2007, there were more Asian than non-Asian viewers, and the audience seemed too bashful to get on its feet. There were some, however, who hummed "The Sounds of Silence" when the DJ turned down the music.

This kind of contemporary performance requires the audience's participation, not a retreat into the distance. Lights went on and off, people came and went, music resounded and then fell silent, and yet real life continued.

To understand a painting, you must first see it with the artist's eyes and consider what he was thinking at the time it was done. Then you can examine the work from your own viewpoint.

In the case of Bel's work, we are to create our own "Show", and indeed it "Must Go On".

For more on this provocateur of the contemporary arts, visit www.JeromeBel.fr.

written by Montakarn Suvanatap; published in The Nation on October 27, 2007

all photos are courtesy of The Esplanade Co. Ltd.