Review: hardcore humppa
Power dancing in the hectic nature of the present
The choreographer of Helsinki Dance Company’s premiere work is Harri Kuorelahti, who has danced in the group for 16 years, and one of the hallmarks of which is the physically demanding movement language. Hardcore humppa is really not some fairy waltz, but muscle-demanding toil.
The topic of hardcore humpa is not particularly new, as it deals with the hectic modern world and people’s almost built-in compulsion to perform, which is often brought up in the arts: more, more, faster, rigged and pushed to the limit like everyone else.
Such a stylish treatment of the subject, on the other hand, is rarely seen. Especially Antti Rehtijärvi’s scenography, the stage design, is nicely executed.
The lighting mainly relies on dark tinting and shadowiness, but sometimes the rows of fluorescent lamps on the floor level of the sites merge with a brilliant arc on the back wall, creating a fine continuum of light lines.
Light glow
Above all, the stage image is dominated by a frame made of lace-like white gauze hanging from the central ceiling, which is like a large lampshade. Sometimes it shines a white light, but sometimes a live image of the performers’ faces is projected onto it.
The faces shown as negative images glow with whiteness, where the eyes are seen as black holes, as passageways somewhere deep, into the soul or into the depths.
The stage image is coloured black, white and grey, which is also mainly repeated in the costumes of the performers. During the performance, however, you start to miss a crack in the shades of clothing, glowing red or yellow.
Because the effect of the round and glowing light surface is sometimes so great that the dancers are left in a supporting role, and the gaze is fixed on the frame, the ears listen to the music and actress Leena Rapola’s speech.
Power dancing
In general, during the performance, you always start to miss some counterforce, a counterpoint impulse that would break the structures.
For example, the phrase brought up by Leena Rapola, which during the performance crystallizes the typical life cycle of a person from birth to death, is in itself funny and insightful, but in the end relatively familiar, to be expected and not surprising.
During the performance, which lasts just over an hour, three female and three male dancers and an actor express both the grip of the modern world on people and the effort to get away from it. Let’s look for a way to moments of presence, to silently listen to the body and the now.
These opposites, presence and running in a treadmill, are nicely brought out in the movement, which includes solos, duets and dancing in a group also in unison.
The breathing of the miked dancers becomes part of the soundscape, but the breath also enhances the experience of movement. Wild throws or frantic running start to look new when you also hear the effect of movement on the dancer’s breathing.
Each of the dancers does great role work and dances wonderfully, Leena Rapola brings a lightening atmosphere to the otherwise gloomy subject at times.
The music of accordionist Kimmo Pohjonen has an effect like the work itself. It is breathtaking, violent, intense, but also sensitively present.