FringeReview UK 2025
Company of Elders: Mixed Bill
Company of Elders
Genre: Dance
Venue: Sadler's Wells, Lilian Baylis Studio
Festival: FringeReview UK
Low Down
Since 1989, Company of Elders, Sadler’s Wells’ resident over-60s performance company, has been demonstrating the power of lifelong creativity and proving it is never too late to start dancing. The line-up may have changed over the decades but the ethos remains and is tested in two new works by young choreographers. The benefits are evident; a tight-knit community with varied and highly watchable dancers.
The opener, They Look Like People, is described by choreographer John-William Watson as ‘an absurdly whimsical exploration of identity.’
The Real Me by Euan Garrett leads us on an investigation of 1960’s culture and mod identity.
These two short pieces each involve the whole company and, if you so wish, the audience in an end of show celebratory dance-off.
Photo by Ellie Kurttz
Review
The UK has become rich in senior dance troupes over recent years. Brighton’s Three Score Dance (inspired into creation by Company of Elders) performs indoors and site-specifically with choreographers such as Russell Maliphant. Maverick ‘Grotesque’ performance maker Liz Aggiss works with Out of Whack, based at Warwick Arts Centre. The Posh Club, produced by Duckie, kicks the notion of old people becoming invisible noisily and vibrantly off the stage.
Company of Elders was an initiator of this trend, and has been training, commissioning and performing since 1989. Coming from different backgrounds and experience these elders are committed to expressing themselves through exploration and experimentation. 2024’s mash up with youth company ZooNation shows they are not afraid to take risks.
Euan Garrett plays it pretty safe with The Real Me, inspired by his recent role in Peter Townshend’s Quadrophenia, A Mod Ballet, at Sadler’s Wells and beyond. More a cohesion of Mod-reflective moves to some top 1960’s tunes than a choreography, the dancers strike cool poses, do the stroll and dance in ragged unison amidst Amelia Hawkes’ atmospheric lighting. There’s a hint of narrative in beige raincoats and the sound of drizzle. Scarlet flashes amongst the beatnik black outfit of mini skirts, pale tights with flats and skinny ties that comprise the charity-shop chic costumes. The dancers are clearly enjoying a return to the sixties but overall the piece feels exploratory rather than fixed and lacks the Mod movement’s defining precision.
They Look Like People, made with choreographer, dancer and director John-William Watson is more successful in communicating something of the dancers’ biographies and in its overall vision. At stage front, a row of plastic chairs and partition wall (Joshua Cartmell’s set design) frames rather than limits the performance space. Watson’s story, (recorded in warm Yorkshire vowels by Beth Emmerson) craftily links the secret life of plants with that of people – how we connect, our different needs and modes of expression. Adam Vincent Clarke’s rich score narrowly avoids overpowering the voice-over.
Here are disparate but distinctive characters. Roberto Ishii sports a natty suit and orange shirt, pig-tails define Bernadette Durso and, central to the narrative, Catriona Maccoll coolly detached in headscarf and silky stripes. The dancers gradually assert their individuality through their own style of movement. Terri Erdem’s angular form and strong stage presence captivates; Hisami Okamoto brings ritualistic gesture into play. From a contemplative opening the piece becomes a celebration of things lost and found, of lives finding connection and their place in the world through memory and motion.
Concluding the evening with an invitation to join the dancers on stage, the audience (largely friends and family) share the limelight and celebrate the power of dance and self-expression. The benefits are evident; a tight-knit community with varied and highly watchable dancers. I look forward to seeing who they work with next.
