Over two years and three Deborah Warner seasons at the tiny Ustinov Studio in Bath, the Danish choreographer Kim Brandstrup has been conjuring a mini-masterpiece based on a trilogy of Greek myths, full of intelligence and deep beauty.
Each short dance work is inspired by Ovid. But as in the earlier Minotaur and Metamorphoses, about Cupid and Psyche, in Echo and Narcissus Brandstrup doesn’t just tell the familiar story of the youth destined to fall in love with his own reflection and the nymph who loves him but is cursed only to be able to repeat the words of others. He gives it a twist, lending a possibility of hope and redemption to the story.
Justin Nardella provides a set with a glistening pool of water at the front and mirrored pillars at the side; lit by Chris Wilkinson, it becomes a liminal place of shadows, of half-formed desire. Jonathan Goddard’s blind Tiresias appears like a dream, groping towards Narcissus with sloping grace, covering his eyes when he foresees the boy’s fate.
Narcissus succumbs slowly, somewhere between sleep and wakefulness, transfixed by his own loveliness as he executes slow, supple backflips and corkscrewing turns. When Laurel Dalley Smith’s Echo appears, she slips under Tiresias’s arm as if defying fate, gently touching the sleeping boy, rolling his head in her hands as they softly tumble in each other’s arms.
Her attempts to pull him into reaction are contrasted with his obsession with self, represented by a figure who appears from the gloom (Archie White), mirroring his movements, as elusive and soft as ripples on water. It is transfixing to watch; glorious movement that communicates such sad longing.
Currently, the piece is shown as a programme with Brandstrup’s haunting film Leda and the Swan and Britten’s Six Metamorphoses After Ovid for oboe, beautifully played in all its dramatic variety by Judy Proctor. But his three danced transformations need now to be seen at one event. Together they amount to a remarkable achievement and an exquisite evening of dance.
• Echo and Narcissus is at Ustinov Studio, Bath, until 6 July
