Dance review: NDT2, Edinburgh Festival Theatre

AS THE curtain rises on Nederlands Dans Theater 2, it doesn’t take long to realise you’re in the presence of greatness.

Not just the incredible dancers, but the choreography that stretches them (often literally), the astute lighting design that illuminates them, and the clever sets that surround them. Choreography with emotional intelligence and captivating theatricality is NDT2’s calling card, and this programme was no exception. Paul Lightfoot and Sol León’s Studio 2 was inspired by the room of the same name where all NDT2’s pieces are made.

Shadowy figures rise from behind a steeply raked stage, looking like something out of Close Encounters, while a giant moving mirror reminds us that these people spend hour upon hour in rehearsal, looking for imperfections in their own reflection. Jirí Kylián’s Gods and Dogs seemed deceptively simple by comparison, opening with a single candle burning front and centre. All this changed when the image of a wolf-like hound appeared above the dancers, moving ever closer with a vague sense of menace, while a curtain comprised of hundreds of silver strands shimmered like a mesmerising waterfall behind the action.

Just when we thought things couldn’t get any better, Alexander Ekman’s Cacti came along. Witty, visually stunning and performed with a quite remarkable sense of timing, Cacti decries the art world’s ability to take itself too seriously.

Featuring 16 dancers on large white plinths, who move in perfect unison before bursting into moments of individuality, Cacti is a piece we’ll remember for a long time to come.

Rating: *****