Review: MOS, IOANNA PARASKEVOPOULOU, Barbican Centre

Foley artists don’t often get moments to shine - step forward Athens based dancer and choreographer Ioanna Paraskevopoulou with her work MOS presented by Dance Umbrella.

The art of foley is the “reproduction of everyday sound effects that are added post-production to enhance audio quality”. And while the craft is of course a valuable skill…do we care enough to see it form the basis of a dance work?

Paraskevopoulou performs the work alongside her collaborator and co-dancer Georgios Kotsifakis and promises “energetic dance” as a by-product of the audio creative journey.

The experience is mixed, ranging from inventive to torturous; is that considered a win? Performing at the Barbican definitely is.

The end of the work is much stronger than the beginning so I'll start there. This successful section centres around tap dancing. Paraskevopoulou and Kotsifakis both perform an intermediate level tap routine, and with the help of a loop station create their own, layered soundtrack that they subsequently dance and keep adding to.

After a too lengthy period of the above, the individual, wooden stage platforms are turned over to reveal foam ones. They then proceed to execute the same steps, only this time without the real sound, and with the pre-recorded soundtrack instead. It's a clever moment, and highlights Paraskevopoulou's interest in audio and manipulation…but that's where the success ends.

The first half of the piece is as expected - foley. And I didn't find it hugely interesting to engage with, not helped by the confused structure and identity of the piece overall.

Initially the visual inspiration is shown from a screen on the stage which makes sense for the audience. We see Paraskevopoulou and Kotsifakis swishing in water for Esther Williams and coconut shells being galloped for Spaghetti Westerns etc. I'm not in denial of the level of skill and thought that's gone into everything, but nothing feels revelatory.

Then for some reason the visual stimuli location changes to the back of the auditorium. Paraskevopoulou and Kotsifakis continue seamlessly, but the audience find themselves in a bizarre position: do we turn around to watch the visual and listen to the audio, or ignore the screened film and observe the physical sound? The theoretical quandary sounds intelligent as I write it down, but the reality is less engaging, verging on the chaotic. Neither feeling triumphant, and in due course becomes annoying.

As confirmed, the tap experiment definitely improves the overall experience, but I still left the Pit on the frustrated side. Paraskevopoulou and Kotsifakis are clearly intelligent, experimental makers, but my advice is to spend a little more time contemplating the product as well as the process. Do they want to be observed or heard? And if they want to be both, a structural rethink is needed. I'd also lose, or seriously adapt the 'dummies guide to postmodern dance' style text that's pumped out sporadically throughout the work. I'm sure it's meant to be ironic and nonchalant, but comes across as patronising.

Whenever contemplating sound and sensory manipulation I can't help but relive the seminal experience of seeing Partita 2 (2013) by Anne Teresa de Keersmaeker with Boris Charmatz. The work takes the crux of the lived experience and communicates it through a simple, accessible theoretical structure: sound, movement, symbiosis. Less paraphernalia, more content to get your teeth into.

de Keersmaeker has been making work for 41 years, and I'm sure she'd still consider herself a student of the craft. Now that's what I'm talking about.

MOS runs at the Barbican Centre as part of Dance Umbrella until 14 October 

Photo Credit: Pinelopi Gerasimou

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