Fab Show: Minus One

Minus One

Les Grands Ballets Canadiens

On a cold and rainy night in Ottawa, I left my warm, comfy house and drove downtown to the National Arts Centre to see Les Grands Ballets Canadiens perform Minus One. Truthfully, I wanted to stay home in my pyjamas and read my book, but I forced myself to make the trek. I parked at City Hall and crossed the park on foot to climb the stairs to the theatre. The wind was blowing, it was drizzling and I was cold.

I entered the theatre and proceeded up the stairs to the first balcony, where I had reserved a centre seat only to find that the usher refusing to let people into the theatre. He said they were doing a last minute rehearsal, which was highly unusual.

Finally, we were allowed in and 1,800 people seated themselves in 10 minutes.

On the stage was a lone dancer, who seemed to be improvising to jazz music. He watched us and we watched him. If people applauded, he reacted; if not, he kept dancing. This was the first of many interactions with the audience. Gradually, a few more dancers came out, and then a few more still. The house lights were still up and people were still finding their seats. Eventually, the full cast was on the stage and the curtain came down, followed by the house lights.

The next ninety minutes flowed by like a river; alternately rushing and then smoothing out into calm pools and eddies, burbling merrily and then racing madly along again. I won’t spoil any surprises here, but let’s just say this is an interactive show. The choreography is lyrical, fiercely original and brilliant. The dancers, who are not anorexic wraiths, are lovely to behold and though their training is clearly classical, the feel is contemporary and expressive.

I was truly moved by the music, a mixture of old standards and modern pieces, which was beautifully interpreted by the company. My favorite piece of choreography (so hard to choose and even harder to describe) involved a line of dancers who would slowly sweep back and forth across the stage. As they walked, one member would drop out and dance alone until the line came back to pick him/her up leaving another member behind, going back and forth in a mesmerizing rhythm. During each solo performance, we could hear the voice of the dancer, introducing him/herself and sharing a personal remark.

In this way, and in many others, the troupe breached the boundary between performers and spectators, inviting us into their world, and occasionally descending into ours. I was struck by their honesty, their willingness to share, and delighted by this invitation to step onto the stage with them for an evening.

It was definitely worth the trip in the rain.