Whimsy, light and play define Eun-Me Ahn Dance Company’s Dragons as the company takes flight for the first time in a UK tour. With roots in South Korea, Ahn has united seven young dancers in contemporary dance training with a range of backgrounds across Asia. The result is a melting pot of cultures as curves circulating the body’s core, indicative of South-East Asian dance, meets the linear grace of East Asia and energetic release of the West. Indeed, there are moments when borders between dancing geographies blur, leaving a cocktail of mischievous movement. Despite what is a fascinating kinaesthetic exploration, the dance itself is often overshadowed by lighting designs and projections.
Dragons begins with Ahn herself, slowly traversing the stage in what appears to be a long hanbok-inspired dress, a pink gauze headdress and – the most important item – a large silver tube. Ahn twitches it in various directions, hoover-like vocalisations and shouts enunciating every wave of the tube. Snakelike, these tubes sometimes dominate the dancers’ bodies as they encase arms, extend into the larger part of the set and even cocoon the dancers whole as they shuffle about the stage. Whilst the dancers express themes of optimism and happiness, the tubes offer something of the dragon in a dynamic sense. We see them whip and ripple, at one point multiplying in the curtain hung at the very forefront of the stage for light projection.
The light projection is both Dragons’ strength and weakness. Film and graphics flow across the projection curtain, which is transparent so the dancers behind are fully visible. Undoubtedly beautiful, overlaying the dancers with animated flowers, water, a short film and even Ahn’s original seven company dancers, Dragons presents intelligent possibility. Two live dancers are seen “moving” inside bubbles, a third controls another. Seven can become fourteen, traditional form can literally merge with the modern. Although visually arresting, this bursting creativity is overwhelming at times. Ideas feel crammed into a short period of time, barely leaving space to breathe or dig deeper into the visuals presented. Water, air, dreams and playfulness take their turns on stage in disjointed episodes, creating earthy interactions with the digital world in glaringly bright pixels.
Throughout the whole performance, the personalities and youthful energy of the dancers shines through. One dancer bends her knees with her feet turned outwards, contracting her torso and circling her hips as elbows carve sharp angles, hands twitching in an echo of Indonesian dance. Hip-hop isolations and contemporary flair underline this happy collision of dance styles. Daring backflips and floating hands mark the bright pinnacle of Dragons, showcasing the dancers’ technical capabilities and emerging artistry. Whilst over-reliance on graphic lighting can throw the dance itself out of the spotlight and suggest a production at times better suited as an art installation, the movement itself is refreshing to witness. Rarely do British stages encounter a rich mix of modern South East and East Asian dance forms, and it is a point of delightful curiosity.