Instrument 1

 

The novelty of men dancing as a unit has been thoroughly explored over the last decade: from Matthew Bourne’s famous Swan Lake through to the adventures in motion of Company Chameleon. Instrument 1 escapes from cliché by emphasising the solo marranzano, a traditional Sicilian mouth harp, and weaving an ironic femininity into the male preening and posing.

The sinister opening – shrouded figures emerge through darkness and smoke – quickly gives way to a humorous step dance, with the men aping the gestures of elderly religious women, descending into a Monty Pythonesque hilarity. When they end up naked, pouting as they leave the stage, the transformation from male to female is completed. The remainder of the hour is spent in high octane masculine display, driven on by the distorted marrazano.

The simple costumes - beige dresses recall a religious order, where piety has been replaced by machismo. Teasing the audience, sometimes swirling like Sufis, sometimes bickering and fighting, the seven dancers seem to exist in a training ground for an obscure purpose, either athletic or holy. But the relentless energy, and the physical excellence of the cast, take this beyond any narrative, rather reflecting on the stereotypes of the Italian macho.

The resonance of the solo instrument – associated with the Mafia – lends a murderous intensity to the faster scenes, bleeping and squealing through the speakers like blues harmonica chasing break-neck techno.
The earthy stomp of the first act recalls ancient dances, and the balance between absurd humour and ritual is never resolved in either’s favour. More than a display of mere prowess, Instrument 1 pokes at the hidden codes beneath the macho facade.