Lyndsey Winship 

Go with the flow: the mesmerising moves of Russell Maliphant

With a dance version of Dickens’s A Christmas Carol, a collaboration with Greek composer Vangelis and his touring show Silent Lines, the questing choreographer is busier than ever
  
  

‘Movement travels through the body like a sound wave passing through the air’ … Dana Fouras in Silent Lines.
‘Movement travels through the body like a sound wave passing through the air’ … Dana Fouras in Silent Lines. Photograph: Julian Broad

I’m lost on an industrial estate in Acton, west London, looking for Russell Maliphant. There’s an anonymous door, behind it a dusty workshop, then another door. I push through to find a dark, cocoon-like studio with the hushed atmosphere of intense creation. The bodies of five dancers are blurred by ripples of light projected over them. Maliphant sits in front, monk-like in his focus.

The seamless spirals of the movement are instantly recognisable as the serious, soft-spoken choreographer’s work. His mesmerising pieces, including Push and AfterLight, have won many prizes – Maliphant picked up the best independent company trophy at this month’s National Dance awards – but his presence in the dance world is not as loud as some of Britain’s other major players.

However, this year, Maliphant has a rush of projects coming to the stage and screen: Silent Lines, the piece being created in this Acton studio with video artist Panagiotis Tomaras; The Thread, with Greek composer Vangelis; a piece for Lyon Opera Ballet; a film of A Christmas Carol; and plans to dance again with his wife, Dana Fouras, after the success of a duet they performed last year. Plus, a raft of new dancers and a new status as company in residence at DanceEast, Ipswich. But Maliphant is bemused by the suggestion he might be having a creative renaissance. “No, I just keep chipping away all the time,” he says.

Key to understanding Maliphant’s style is that it’s all about flow. Having originally trained at the Royal Ballet School, Maliphant studied Rolfing, which focuses on manipulating the body’s connective tissue, or fascia, through massage. His choreography now falls somewhere between dance and bodywork – the umbrella term for practices like yoga, pilates and the Alexander technique – and you won’t find another choreographer who can talk in such detail about anatomy. It’s part of Maliphant’s quest for a certain quality of movement. “I think the body moves well when there is freedom,” he says. “Freedom around the joints, freedom of articulation, space within the body; movement travelling through the body like a sound wave passing through the air.” The result is dance as a pure energetic force, like watching a river run or a waterfall.

Abstraction is what Maliphant is known for (“I would rather do a Jackson Pollock than try and paint a scene”) but he’s had his head turned recently by the idea of narrative. First, when working on last year’s documentary Nureyev, and now, by the forthcoming film A Christmas Carol, where the story is told in dance, with voiceover by a cast including Andy Serkis and Carey Mulligan. “It’s all dance,” he explains. “What they do on stage you’re not going to see in a Christmas Carol play. Some of the visuals, with the lighting, take things out of the ordinary … I actually really enjoyed putting my mind to the possibilities of those characters, how they might be represented in movement.”

Maliphant admits it’s the last thing you would expect him to do, but he enjoyed being pushed into new territory. “It can be beneficial to be thrown in the deep end,” he says. “There are things I did at the beginning of my career that I would be much too afraid to do now, and that’s terrible. Like making a piece in a week. If someone said to me now, you’ve got a week to make a 15-minute piece, I’d say, I can’t do that.”

He doesn’t shirk a challenge though. For example: The Thread, which blends traditional Greek and contemporary dance, with music by film composer Vangelis and costumes by fashion designer Mary Katrantzou. When asked to create the show, Maliphant’s knowledge of Greek dance was minimal – “limited to Zorba the Greek” – but he’s since had a crash course. “The stepping patterns – of which there are infinite amounts – are a lot harder than they look,” he says. “It’s a very social dance. When you have your arms wrapped around each other in a circle, it’s a strong communal experience.”

Vangelis, in his 70s and not very mobile, was unable to go to rehearsals, so Maliphant would take videos of the dancers to him at his apartment. “It was a very satisfying experience,” he says. “He’s very knowledgeable about music, all music. And I love what he’s done with the Greek music, taking traditional instrumentation or phrases and manipulating them. The energy and dynamics of some of the traditional music is incredible,” says Maliphant. “Almost like techno in its repetition and driving energy. It’s very surprising,” he says. “It’s not Chariots of Fire.”

At 57, Maliphant himself is still dancing, and has made works for other older dancers, including 55-year-old Italian prima ballerina Alessandra Ferri, who recently admitted she can’t jump any more. Maliphant sees no disadvantage. “There is a special language in everyone’s idiosyncrasies,” he says. “You know the way you can spot someone’s walk a mile off, you know who it is even if you can’t see their face? I like to notice that and work with it.”

Maliphant has had his own problems with injuries – four knee surgeries and a plate in his left leg that sets off security alarms at airports. Is his holistic approach to the body the reason he’s still able to dance? “I don’t know if I’m lucky or stubborn, or disciplined or opportunistic,” he says, “but I’m just happy to keep going. Every morning I have the pleasure to dance with people who are inspiring, and you know,” he says, with typical understatement, “It’s a nice thing to do.”

 

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