EVENING STANDARD

War may be hell, but this is heavenly

Throughout 17 years of bitter conflict in Lebanon, the Caracalla Dance Theatre of Beirut dodged bullets and sniper fire to survive intact as a leading creative force. Its speciality is a contemporary dance form that blends the grave of the Orient with the earthiness of Western modern dance. The company opened in London last night with a flourish of exuberant energy that leapt right across the footlights.

The choreographer Abdul Halim Caracalla, who founded the company more than 25 years ago, is a master of the narrative form, telling his stories through mime and a surge of movement. Previously inspired by Shakespeare for his productions, this time he has drawn on his ancestral roots.

Elissa, Queen of Carthage, is the quintessential Phoenician legend, more familiar in the West as Dido and Aeneas. Indeed, in their cornucopia of colourful costumes, all historically authentic, the performers seem to transmute into their forebears. Caracalla grafts the fluency of Eastern gestures on to mobile torsos to create a wide range of movement possibilities. Upper bodies curve lusciously, offset by flowing arms and articulate fingers. Hip-sways intensify into swivels. Dancers face the front or shift into profile, arms shooting out splayed fingers. Though having a wide vocabulary, Caracalla chooses his movements carefully to suit the characters.

As a result, Tania Haroun a sphinx-like beauty, is majestically elegant as Elissa. Her friends in the treacherous court mirror her dignity, their unwavering support flecked with concern as they scan the horizon for enemies. Savage courtiers murder her husband to provoke a power struggle, and Caracalla plays the refinement of the women off against the barbarous men by weaving strings of calm women through whooping clusters of wild killers.

With their noisy, ecstatic pagan dancers, the Berbers who greet the fugitive Elissa in Carthage provide yet another contrast. They variety of styles heightens the impact. And Caracalla’s facility for moving large crowds across the stage makes a cast of 40 look 400.

The action hurtles at speed. The director Ivan Caracalla, son of the choreographer, moves the story on cinematically, dissolving the boundaries between theatre and film. There are blackouts as the action cuts, say, from the throne room to Elissa’s chambers. The technique drives the narrative swiftly forward, sustaining interest throughout.

The epilogue of vibrant and joyous Lebanese folk dance rounds off an evening full of dynamism and rich visual texture.

Anne Sacks