Review: NOBODADDY - TEAĊ DAṀSA, Sadler’s Wells

Teaċ Daṁsa return to Sadler’s Wells with Michael Keegan-Dolan's latest work: NOBODADDY (Tríd an bpoll gan bun). The title is a dark character that features in the poems of William Blake, but the blurb confirms that Dolan's reading is one of “an ode to the peacemakers and the bringers of good things” - so in that sense what's the point? As the two aspects appear to cancel each other out.

What's the point was a question I kept asking myself during the 105 minute work at numerous intervals. There's a difference between eclectic and lost; this is the latter. Likewise intentional and performative; also the latter. 

I enjoy avant-garde work, but what NOBODADDY communicates is so random it's difficult to find a groove or identity to latch onto. That's apart from select moments of dance - some which are so evocative one wishes Dolan would lose all the other stuff ASAP and give us basically two hours of what he does best IMHO.

The dance interludes I mention are elevated by seven musicians including the renowned folk singer, Sam Amidon. The collection of instruments, voices and musical genre never stop giving, but it's the haunting, traditional Irish melodies that hit home the most.

During these we see Dolan's language speak the loudest. It's an Irish, Jazz, Contemporary dance fusion that feels like one of the most organic lexicons currently on the dance scene. Pedestrian foundations include rigorous use of rise and fall, playful dynamics, arcs and paddles and connected unison. It's so enjoyable that when it's happening things feel okay…but when it leaves the annoyance returns.

The work opens with a bizarre story/scene about personal injury compensation, which seems to have no relevance to anything happening at a later date, so initiates the what's-the-point conundrum early on. As the work continued I took issue with numerous production choices.

The use of bubble machines, both handheld and more substantial; it takes more than that to create actual atmosphere. Individuals being humiliated by having what looks like milk poured over them. A dancer in underwear moisturising himself with butter and a banana skin thrown into the audience after the fruit was consumed. These choices don't feel genuine, rather “we must do this in order to be original”, which is dangerous territory in my book.

I also struggled with the use of heavy-handed emotion. At numerous points different cast members seemed to weep on demand. And I'm talking properly distressed. No lead up, no comedown, so one is left wondering why? Personally I find this approach problematic as it feels like a mockery of emotion - more faux than deep.

Teaċ Daṁsa pride themselves on their collective ethos, but NOBODADDY suggests the absolute opposite through it's choreographic structure. The evident pyramid scheme feels undemocratic at times, and sees some star dancers everywhere at once. The troupe also works in isolation for weeks on end during the creative period, and I wonder if lack of external perspective is an issue here.

Minus the heavenly, genuine dance interludes, the majority of the work feels self-indulgent, and could do with some serious rethinking. Part music concert, play and dance piece, NOBODADDY could be praised for its exploration of genre cohesion, but the end result isn't currently producing the desired goods I'm afraid.

NOBODADDY runs at Sadler's Wells until 30 November 

Image credit: Emilija Jefremova

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