Ihsane dance review: Magnificent chaos
Sidi Larbi Cherkaoui’s tribute to Ihsane Jarfi mesmerises with heavy emotions and powerful choreography, blurring boundaries between a haunting funeral procession and a life-affirming parade
In Islam, ‘ihsane’ stands for a connectedness to everything, but it was also the name of a young man, Ihsane Jarfi, who was murdered in a homophobic attack in Belgium in 2012. Both of these inspirations have fed into this ambitious and soulful piece from Belgian-Moroccan choreographer Sidi Larbi Cherkaoui, which brims with colour and bursts with life. Bringing together funeral rites, ceremonial dancing, language and sublime music, it is as much a celebration of the kaleidoscope of living as it is a ritual of mourning.
Like a kaleidoscope, the piece remains in constant motion. Scenes tumble into one another and ideas fly at atomic pace. A tea ceremony becomes a banquet, which becomes the sacrifice of a lamb, which becomes a mother’s grief over the body of her son. Dancers slump into the shape of dead bodies and are covered with warm red Persian rugs, which give them the appearance of sand dunes and later clusters of rocks to be climbed on. We take part in a brief Arabic class while arms sketch calligraphic shapes; later the dancers are sheathed in body stockings, covered with writing as they curl and squiggle around one another.
The choreography is exquisite, the dancers precise. The whole piece is soaked in beauty. But it is packed with themes, too many at times: language, death, joy, heritage, the heartbreaking cruelty of Ihsane Jarfi’s murder, the dazzling warmth of Moroccan hospitality, a brief foray into Arthur C Clarke. It’s sometimes dizzying in a good way and sometimes just confusing. With the work of so many brilliant artists on stage however, from Fadia Tomb El-Hage’s voice and Jasser Haj Youssef’s compositions and viola d’amore playing, to the tactile, textured costumes by Amine Bendriouich, it is also enough to just surrender to this magnificent chaos.
Ihsane, Festival Theatre, until 20 August, 7.30pm; picture: Jess Shurte.