In the Homecoming Year, Scotland has attempted to showcase more than just haggis and kilts. On the one hand there has been the awkward Diaspora, commissioned by the International Festival. In contrast, the Made in Scotland programme has increased the national presence at the Fringe. From Natasha Gilmore through to Dance Ihayami, Scottish companies are exhibiting the full range of styles and genres.
Ironically, the form that does not have a strong presence is traditional Scottish dance. Relegated, rather like Morris in England, to a curiosity for tourists, Highland dance has become marginalised, stuck in tradition and ripe for re-invention. Irish dancing found itself in the same situation, until Riverdance imagined it as theatrical spectacular.
However, Scottish contemporary is evolving its own identity. Caught between the British system and the Europeans (Scottish choreographers draw strongly on both), Scotland-based choreographers are dynamically fusing different traditions. There is no single Scottish contemporary style: there is no easy connection between Curious Seed, Dudendance and Lindsay John. Instead, there is a shared spirit of experimentation.
At Zoo Venues, both Natasha Gilmore and the Scottish Dance Theatre fly the Saltire. Even if the choreographers are not necessarily Scottish, they draw on Scottish resources and embody its adventurousness. Gilmore’s latest show has a political intention, looking closely at the pressures that create femininity. At the same time, it has the wry humour that marked out her last success, The Blank Album. SDT’s Luxuria explores the quest for fulfilment in an award-winning sensuous delight. Gilmore has quickly gained a reputation for easily accessible pieces that combine lightness with a serious intention. The SDT are a major force in contemporary, harvesting work from the top choreographers across Europe.
Rushing to St Stephen’s, where The Arches has taken up residence for the month, Nic Green’s Trilogy has won praise for its willingness to engage with feminism. The chatter about nudity has obscured an important feature: both Nic’s company and her volunteers all dance. They are not trained as dancers, and this is the point. Inspired by the likes of Goat Island, Nic choreographs for non-dancers, finding a link between social and theatrical movement.
While scratching the surface of the Scottish scene, even this brief survey suggests the wealth of Scottish dance. Over two thousand dancers use Dance Base every week – it has the largest programme of participatory dance in the UK – while the burlesque scene and Scratch Nights offer easy access to performance: dance is thriving, multiplying and creating new hybrids.
As Diaspora made clear, high-cost text and video screens can fail to express anything beyond the most peripheral understandings: the body itself is an effective and direct method of communication.