Review: Destruction Song II

A dizzying experience

Beauty and blackness in a seamless union – it’s a sheer pleasure to watch Destruction Song. Kenneth Kvarnström’s new work, which premiered at Norrlandsopera last November, and which is now starting its Swedish tour, keeps the viewer in its grip at every moment. From the first ear-sickening shock when two dancers disguised as black enter a world of soot and reflective metal prisms, to a delicate end in silence when a black shadow reappears behind Sofia Karlsson’s lonely figure. The viewer just wants to stay in their chair and let the impressions come in.

Kenneth Kvarnström’s return as a choreographer for his own company is one of the best things that has happened in the Swedish dance world if you want to experience the rebirth of thoroughly constructed dance works. The structure of the choreography, the interaction with the space created by Jens Sethzman, the music of Jukka Rintamäki, Helena Hörstedt’s costumes (the same team as in OreloB for the Gothenburg Opera) and, last but not least, the dancers’ ability to absorb every movement. Very good. Unparalleled.

The choreographer has found in his dancers Sofia Karlsson, Johanna Klint and Janne Marja-aho a brilliantly sensitive trio: strange and soft as a rubber band in carved solos, duets and trios.

Kvarnström’s handprint can be seen in the decorative details and seamless movement waves that create a heavy softness in all movements, backward steps and explosively fast feet. At the same time, her choreography has matured; Like mercury, fast flow and quick stops become meaningful and interpretive. Time and death have left their mark on the mist-filled darkness where dancers appear and disappear.

Destruction Song has four parts, and an epilogue. The work begins with a dystopian cacophony of sounds created by the versatile composer Jukka Rintamäki. Two evil faceless characters seem to have survived the disaster. But their soft and constant movements relieve the pressure. Hands turn into slender and sharp nails in the darkness. The next solo danced by Janne Marja-aho, which focuses on the back, breathes loss and loneliness. The music has a metallic resonance.

In two scenes, a white hole in the back wall breaks up the blackness. The silhouettes of the dancers begin to come alive, the heart rate and tempo accelerate. They playfully, almost in an oriental way, embroider shapes. The chain of twisting bodies seems unbroken even when the dancers lose their grip on each other. The perpetual motion of the joy of dancing.

In contrast, some scenes are almost sleepily meditative or ambiguously set in motion by tenderness and control, such as a duet with an echo of a disappearing bass sound. As Sofia Karlsson drags Janne Marja-aho’s surrendered and weak figure to the last dance, the emotional melody played on the acoustic guitar is filled with melancholy in a strangely beautiful farewell.

Destruction Song is sensual and melancholic, it goes straight to the heart. I can only congratulate Kenneth Kvarnström on the Theatre Critics’ Dance Award in 2008