sarma

Oil and water do not mix. But not so for Taipei Dance Circle.

Bathed in signature baby oil, the glistening dancers and stage floor in Black Tide blended into an intriguing and protean seascape.

The title of the dance comes from the warm current sweeping through the Asia-Pacific, which sustains a rich marine ecosystem.

Sliding the lubricated floor with superb control, ten near-naked dancers created a ceaseless flow of shapes and images that evoked ocean life and rhythm.

Conceived in five discrete parts, Black Tide was a visual and thematic ride in motion, fluidity and constant change.

The curtains first raised to discover reposed bodies (were they plankton?) stirring in gentle awakening.

These bodies soon multiplied in numbers and evolved into action: Undulating, jerking, tucking in, rolling, falling, skating and frolicking. The spirit was as reckless as it was crafted.

Under precarious gravity, the intense bodies sought a centre – both physical and spiritual, athletic yet meditative.

In the last section, the final image of all the dancers struggling to stand upright and alone points to dependency as necessity in the balance of natural ecology.

Sensual, abstract and sublime, with understated fun in its first half, Black Tide rose gradually into dramatic colour and playful relationships through the 50-minute performance.

The taut-skinned dancers with smooth-oiled heads gleamed irresistibly in all surface seduction, honed by choreographer Liou Shaw-Lu into virtuosic strength and discipline.

Characteristically, the dancers flipped to and fro and treaded on their sides to suggest travelling waves.

They also piggy-backed one another, perching in poses suggesting a sense of waiting.

They mapped islands and created ripples, whirlpools, trees and sea vessels, amongst many aquatic entities and activities, subterranean or otherwise.

When a hive of arms and legs came together, one might just have sighted an octopus, jellyfish or some miasmic creature.

No matter if the spectator’s perception was drain-deep or ocean-wide, the basic spectacle in Black Tide of shifting balance and counter-balance was thoroughly engaging.

The dancers’ actions ebbed and flowed to a varied – but not always inspiring – score of strident pipa-plucking, bell-tinkering, piano, cello and jazzy sounds.

More, too, was desired than the alternating turquoise and purple lights to enliven the cultural wealth, changing mood and temperatures of Black Tide.

Still, by the end of the show, the generous dancers convinced its easy audience with their sheer range of centrifugal acrobatics and monastic concentration.

It seems, true to its house-style, Taipei Dance Circle cheated on friction – and won again.