
“Rice” may seem an unusual title, and indeed topic, for a work of dance theatre. Yet even without the most perfunctory of research, it becomes clear that rice serves as an enormously culturally significant symbol. Rice, performed by Cloud Gate Dance Theatre of Taiwan, and choreographed by Lin Hwai-min, is inspired by the landscape and story of Chihshang in the East Rift Valley of Taiwan. This story is of the region, famous for rice, and its struggle against chemical fertiliser to become once again the ‘Land of Emperor Rice’ through organic farming. It is also, however, a story of nature and life, quite independent from humankind: a story perhaps of one grain of rice coming into existence. Composed of evocative, shifting dances from a large company of performers, set against a stunning background of video images and an eclectic score of ancient Hakka Chinese folk songs, subtle sounds of nature and Western opera, these stories are strongly and beautifully felt.
Rice begins at the beginning – with Soil. Starting with a single dancer, Yang I-chun, it is not a light, graceful dance, but one that is reminiscent of both animal and human agricultural labour. The exertion of the dancers feels real; indeed, as part of the preparation for the performance, they themselves went to this region and learned how to harvest the crop. This is indicative of the attention to detail and discipline of this company, seen throughout the performance. In this first section we initially see a move that is to be repeated throughout the performance in various forms: a stamp of a foot. Obviously appropriate here because of the grounded nature of the dance, it comes to signify a stubborn determined claim to existence – to life, growth and regrowth.
In a shift in tone typical of this performance, we go from Soil to Wind. In simple but sharply evocative movements, the dancers transform almost magically from a sprouting seed to a bird, to a beast of burden to a gust of wind. Through these changing images a complex picture and narrative is built, further enriched by sound and projection. The projected video images, filmed over a two-year period on location by videographer Chang Hao-Jan, and designed by Ethan Wang, change size and shape to dynamically support the action of the dance. In one section, Pollen II, a sexually-charged meditation of fertilisation and connection, the projection shrinks to a small, lurid green rectangle of moving plant matter on the wall and floor, in which the dance takes place. During Fire, an enormous video of said phenomenon spreads, as sections of the black dance floor are slowly rolled back to reveal white underneath.
The three elements of video, sound and dance are predominantly extremely effective. There are brief moments when the beautiful imagery and sounds become distracting, and some where they become a little too meditative, even soporific. But these are quickly interrupted and undercut by a new, powerful gesture, or a shockingly eclectic choice of music, such as Richard Strauss’s ‘Im Abendrot’. The combined effect is a richly textured, sensorially overwhelming piece with a strong narrative arc from birth and growth to destruction and recovery.
Rice played Sadler’s Wells. For more information, see the Sadler’s Wells website.