Rush

Dancers run purposefully, head down, across the stage, only to stop, turn around, and run back the other way. Others stand as obstacles; they get frustrated and angry. Sound familiar?

Pair Dance’s Rush is an abstract representation of the stressful yet monotonous, bustling yet empty daily commute. The choreography expresses this feeling incredibly well, progressing from pure, purposeful running to antagonistic partnering, dynamic, agitated solos and a section where the four dancers move perfectly in unison, executing a series of frantic kicks and jumps, before pausing, exhaling heavily in frustration, and starting again.

The original score by Richard Leonard, featuring dramatic violins, the incessant throbbing of an engine and the sound of wheels on a track, interspersed with people grunting, cursing, and moaning, compounds the tension built by the choreography, and elevates Rush from a solid dance performance to the momentary creation of an atmospheric, enveloping world. It forces our daily routines into sharp focus, making us examine what we are doing, and why, and if it’s really worth it.

What really puts the icing on the cake — or the fourth star on the page — is that, underneath the ostensible stress and clumsiness, the dancers are centred, assured and in complete control of their bodies, allowing them to express whatever they want with the utmost conviction. The only slight criticism of the piece is that the frustration and antagonism between fellow passengers is exaggerated: most commutes aren’t that bad. However, a bit of artistic license is allowed, as the exaggeration makes for a more dramatic, exciting performance.