Neighbours, Brigel Gjoka/Rauf Yasit review ★★★★★

Dance Reflections by Van Cleef & Arpels started as it means to go on: with a work that probes the ever-evolving possibilities of dance, inspired by the radical break with tradition set in motion in 1970s America.

One of those who opened new horizons to dance with his meticulous breaking apart and reassembling of steps and concepts was the choreographer William Forsythe, an American who spent many years working in Europe, and Forsythe was key to Neighbours, the piece that opened the jewellery house’s festival of contemporary choreography.

Neighbours' creators, abstract b-boy Rauf 'Rubberlegz' Yasit and contemporary dancer Brigel Gjoka, come from distinct dance traditions and cultures, respectively Kurdish and Albanian. In collaboration with Forsythe, with whom they worked some three years ago in A Quiet Evening of Dance, they decided to blend their specialities to create a new choreographic language.

To a large extent they succeeded, their one-hour show a fascinating concoction that defies your expectations at every turn. In the first part they work in silence, with only the sound of their breath and occasional mouth clicks punctuating their movement. There are no distractions for the audience, we are enjoyed to focus on the movement to the exclusion of everything else. Luckily, that’s not difficult – their dance is rich in detail and quite hypnotic.

Hands flex and stretch and each dancer looks as if he’s just discovering their possibilities. Their arms interlace before them, in a sequence reminiscent of Forsythe’s short duet, Prologue.

When they break apart, they each bring into the movement hints of their specialities, Rauf 'Rubberlegz' Yasit’s appearing to discover the body’s relationship to the floor as expressed in break-dancing, Brigel Gjoka’s body suggesting the isolations of contemporary dance.

In Part Two they are joined by Ruşan Filiztek, the Paris-based Kurdish artist, whose music blends influences from Turkish, Armenian and Greek traditions. His instruments are a long-necked lute with its melancholy notes, a tambour, the beat of which accompanies a highly rhythmic section, and a small computer.

Up to now the dancing had been entirely abstract, the dancers’ knowing, playful glances at the audience appearing to say, ‘see what we can do?’ Now, though, lulled by the music with its Eastern overtones, the dance becomes charged with cultural references appearing to channel an ancestral power.

Elements from folk dance take over. They jog in a line crossing their feet; they twirl red handkerchiefs. The finale is a fast, very rhythmic section almost like an apotheosis.

Neighbours is fascinating as an attempt at novelty, but, of course, it's unlikely its specific choreographic language can be taught and passed on. That, however, is for the future.