Through a hazy auditorium amid the heartbeats of the patient Finnish spectators, I peered onto a darkened stage. From many rows back I could only just make out the silhouettes of the performers, brought ever so gradually into view by the gently burgeoning light from left of the theatre. A solitary dancer began to gracefully move out of the regimental lines that the artistic soldiers of the Tero Saarinen Company had formed at the back of the stage. The opening choreography is shrouded in silence, only broken by the gentle exhale of the melancholic figure as she manipulated the tense atmosphere with her requiem of movement.

Having not had much exposure to modern or interpretive dance, I admit that I struggled to grasp the emotive essence to which that opening piece was creatively alluding. However, this did not stop me from being in awe of the control and precision with which the artist moved, nor did it blind me to the electricity that was stifling the air as a result of this expression. When we did at last meet with an acoustic deliverance it was to the tune of rhythmic foot beats as the remainder of the group religiously encircled the soloist as she continued to physically and graphically wrestle with whatever emotional demon was attempting to possess her.

Throughout the performance the dancers of Tero Saarinen were delicately accompanied by the a cappella sea shanties sung by the vocalists from The Boston Camerata! Their haunting folk melodies beautifully complimented the wild and desolate contortions of the dancers. Throuhout the performance what resonated most acutely was the isolation that the group, and the individuals within the group, were portraying. From the devout and humble clothing, to the raw and ritualistic chanting, there was a distinct sense that the community on stage was separate and alone as they struggled desperately with some unknown affliction. Their torment is poignantly displayed on more than one occasion as the performers reach to the skies to have their out-stretched arms scalded by the deity they gesticulate towards.

At one point a female soloist, left alone on stage by her sisters, clearly expresses a physical desire to break free of her dominating sect. As she dances centre stage, two, bare-chested male dancers come eerily into view. There is something profoundly sinister about their presence as they spy on the young woman. Fearing for her safety she disappears, leaving the two men wrestling with each other in a symposium of violent motion.

Before the end we are treated to an individual effort by the man himself! Saarinen exudes a confidence in his performance that, intentionally or not, is not present in the other dancers. I tend to think that this is intentional as Saarinen embodies the spirit of the leader of the group, both on stage as well as off. Whereas the other performers tentatively use their erratic postulations to express their emotions, Tero Saarinen is much more definite and assured. This makes the desperations and insecurities of the rest of the community more pronounced, adding weight to the sense they are sad souls lost in a world of turmoil.

Having not been presented on my admission with a programme for the performance, what I particularly enjoyed was deciphering the context for the messages and emotions that were expressed on stage. My conclusions were not far off the mark. My initial impression, from the monastic robes and ritualistic order, was a definite presence of a spiritual and sectarian element of inspiration. This theory was validated as I read that the ‘American Shaker’ movement was one catalyst for creativity. I also felt that the music and atmosphere seemed to reflect the communal heritage of Finland. I imagined myself being drawn hundreds of years into the past where a cold and humble rural community struggled for survival in the harsh environment, looking to the staunch Lutheran priests who represented their only hope of spiritual salvation.

Andrew Scholfield