Dance review: Scottish Royal Ballet Digital Season

We all sense the passing of time, and its impact upon our physical being '“ but perhaps more than most, dancers feel that change more keenly. So it seems apposite that Scottish Ballet's first ever digital season, while rejoicing in the wonders of technological advancement, never loses sight of the human body, and its relationship with time.

Under the Skin

Scottish Royal Ballet Digital Season ****

A collection of short films and “inside looks”, the aim of Under the Skin is to bring audiences closer to the action by, ironically, keeping us away. These works exist online, not in a theatre, and are an astute move by artistic director, Christopher Hampson. Not only does the season leave a piece of Scottish Ballet at home, while the company delivers its US tour, but it extends its reach globally and, given the ephemeral nature of dance, helps create an archive legacy.

Released throughout April (with more still to come), the season opened with What Dreams We Have, a short film by Scottish photographer and filmmaker, David Eustace. At just over three minutes long, the piece packs a huge amount of meaning into its brief stay, along with some striking visuals juxtaposing beauty and brutalism.

Floating like an ethereal being through an abundant forest, principal dancer Sophie Martin finds herself in the disused space of St Peter’s Seminary in Cardross. There, her exchange with pianist Michael Wildman – who fills the cold, grey surroundings with the delicate sounds of Arvo Pärt – takes the mood from fairytale to surrealism. Handing him that weighty symbol of youth and fertility, an egg, Martin dances the briefest of heart-felt solos before, once again finding herself in an altered state.

Well versed in capturing the essence of people through his portrait photography, Eustace zones in on Martin, picking out fragments of her body here and there as she moves. It’s a fascinating piece, made especially poignant by the inclusion of Paul Laurence Dunbar’s 19th century poem, Dreams, about the transitory nature of fame and beauty.

Many of the same qualities can be found in Haud Close Tae Me, another short film set to a specially commissioned poem by Jackie Kay. A celebration of our endless capacity to embrace what comes next, regardless of age, Kay’s words are like a third dancer in this deeply moving duet between Scottish Ballet dancer Mia Thompson and member of the Scottish Ballet Elders group Jill Ferguson (a woman and her younger self, we assume). A directorial triumph for Eve McConnachie, Scottish Ballet’s in-house filmmaker, the piece is rich with emotive close-ups – the twist of a hand, glimpse of a cheek, flutter of an eyelash or drag of a pointe shoe across the floor.

Less of an artistic endeavour, but equally illuminating, is Company Class – a 77- minute work-out for those inclined to join in, but even those watching from a chair may find themselves straightening their backs in solidarity. Because, of course, for the dancers this is where the real time goes – hard work and repetition in the studio, honing their technique, building their strength ready to show us their mettle on stage.