Review: Julie Cunningham & Company in CROW and Pigeons – an impressive double bill, authentic, rigorous, conscientious and brave

Matthew Paluch sees Julie Cunningham & Company in CROW and Pigeons: the work has very little equal competition in the UK dance scene.
| Title | CROW / Pigeons |
| Company | Julie Cunningham & Company |
| Venue | Sadler’s Wells East, London |
| Date | 27 March 2025 |
| Reviewer | Matthew Paluch |
The Julie Cunningham & Company double bill of CROW / Pigeons is a major player in this year’s Dance Reflections by Van Cleef & Arpels Festival. Cunningham is already known as a choreographic talent, and these two commissions only reaffirm the fact.
Opening is CROW, described by Cunningham as an experimental work, and that it is. There’s no official start and finish, and in fact Cunningham, Harry Alexander and musician JD Samson (Le Tigre) are already on stage as we enter the auditorium. About 10 minutes before the official start time, Cunningham and Alexander begin their movement journey with mischievous walks and prances around the space. Part catwalk divas; part discombobulated crows.
The work is multimedia in nature with designs by Julie Verhoeven including feathered cleaning signage, a backdrop screen with psychedelic projections and costuming that’s a concoction of Tudor, Punk and Rave sensibilities.
The movement ebbs and flows rather than conforms as Cunningham wanted to actively move away from “meticulous, technical” choreography. That said, within the experiment one sees content executed with articulation and a phrasing style of its own. Both Cunningham and Alexander have passages where they break down connected movement into endless isolated gestures; I saw my youth and Transformers. JD Samson’s electronic soundscore also allows for adagio phrases, and here we see the duo explore as if lost in space, yet totally aware.
CROW isn’t about instant gratification, it’s an opportunity to observe a creative exploring new territory, and that’s important stuff.
Where CROW feels like an experimental happening, Pigeons communicates like a fully realised work. Some might say the choreographic version of Kate Bush’s Aerial Tal. Cunningham looked at the behaviour of the birds and Julius Eastman’s 30-minute composition, Gay Guerilla (1979) for inspiration, and they definitely found it.
Pigeons is exactly my kind of thing – where the choreographic journey informs the movement, rather than the other way around. It’s evident that the bigger picture is the point, and from here, detailed minutiae can develop.
The movement language is understated but razor-sharp in style, and constant transfers of weight are executed with impactful dynamic. We also see moments of suspension appear and disappear, but it’s the spatial relationships and patterning that fundamentally define the work’s success.
It’s geometry in motion and must have taken Cunningham months of focused thought and planning to achieve. The cast of five migrate around the space with magnetic, rigid connection until it dissolves with no warning. They travel like a solar system in flight, circling themselves and each other as they explore the expanse with seemingly no boundaries.
Cunningham talks of disruption in relation to the piece, yet within the work one observes correlation and harmony. And though all the cast are invested, I can’t take my eyes off Cunningham. Their movement quality is an ideal combination of neutrality and decisiveness, and it simply never bores.
This was an impressive double bill no doubt, and makes one already excited for what Cunningham will do next. As far as the work is concerned – it’s authentic, rigorous, conscientious and brave, and has very little equal competition in the UK dance scene currently. OKURRR.





