Review: Louise Lecavalier in Danses Vagabondes – death by a thousand cuts

Canadian dance legend Louise Lecavalier runs backwards onto the stage at Sadler’s Wells East, kicks her shoes off behind her and launches into a frenetic, mesmeric blur of dance. She is a slight, hooded figure with long plaits framing her face, and she wears a black coat whose tails are flicked impatiently behind her as she cuts across the space. She is agitated, darting and scurrying around the stage, gesturing wildly, pleadingly, crossly, generously. But her focus is unflinching. Could there be method in her madness? 

Lecavalier brings an international profile and long legacy in dance to the stage. She has been the much-celebrated muse of Édouard Lock, performing for years in his groundbreaking company La La La Human Steps; she famously performed with (and befriended) David Bowie as part of his collaboration with Lock on the Sound+Vision Tour in 1990. Principally known as a formidable performer, Lecavalier began making her own work in 2010, and this is a notable return to the London stage and to the annual Elixir Festival. Danses Vagabonde is a new work, inspired by Carlo Rovelli’s Écrits Vagabonds, and, like Rovelli’s essays, it searches impatiently and impertinently for freedom, never really settling or finding an anchor, instead testing ideas with restlessness and agility. 

Initially at least, and certainly to contemporary dance newcomers, it might be easy to dismiss Lecavalier as an eccentric, lonely figure. Solo, clownish at times, her physical prowess isn’t obvious, and her movements aren’t in any way virtuosic. Rather, she’s a bewildering blur of motion – sometimes playful, using her costume and a large square screen behind her to entertain herself, and sometimes earnest, perpetually searching but never settling. Her rapid-fire movements skim swiftly across the surface of meaning, and an electronic soundscape gives her a slightly bewildered raver quality.

It’s by virtue of stealth that the icon gradually emerges. Having thrown down a high-energy gauntlet as she hit the space, Lecavalier defies expectations by sustaining a dense, relentless stream of movement that frames and re-frames the human body, never faltering, never backing down. In fact, she doubles down, with an astonishing and increasingly intensive vigour that draws on what appears to be a bottomless reserve of stamina. This solo is a feat of endurance that opens a deep seam of creativity, where nothing is throwaway, and every task, gesture, and expression is delivered with unflinching focus at high speed. Glimpses of ballet, of torment, joy and grace fly past and, as the dynamic builds, Lecavalier’s hood and long coat are shed, revealing the warrior woman within. Any sense of pity or doubt falls away as this force of nature, dressed now in red trousers and a completely sheer top, long silver tresses aflow, demonstrates steely, unrelenting strength.

As the screen behind her suddenly erupts into a scarlet flower in resplendent red, Lecavalier’s jumps get higher and wilder, and there’s a series of grand battements that are not only an impressive testament to the performers’ physical prowess but also feel like the release of years of frustration. Perhaps being a muse is less pleasant than it might seem? 

There’s no ‘killer blow’ in Lecavalier’s Danses Vagabondes – no great, orgasmic petit mort. She’s an icon, remember? She owes you nothing. Yet somehow she gives you everything, in her own inimitable style… and it’s death by a thousand cuts.

Lydia Wharf

Lydia wharf is an independent producer working in contemporary dance theatre, tending to specialise in practices of care, access and inclusion.

She works directly with a range of artists and companies, most recently BirdGang Ltd, Dance Umbrella, Julie Cunningham & Company and Stuart Waters. Lydia has a long, twisty relationship with dance, as performer, writer, advocate and producer.