The best of Michael Parmenter's study of intense love and its release only in death, inspired by the opera and his recent travels in Bayreuth, comes early in the piece.
The opening scene, in which Tane Mete, as Isolde, stands in draped white gown with a dramatic sail furled diagonally across
the stage for long, long moments, while Parmenter, as Tristan, appears as a dark and distant figure approaching and passing, approaching and passing, builds a tangible tension and throbbing expectation.
The latter is met to some degree in the passionate duet that follows, a marathon of strength and lovely lightness, lyrical with lifts and flips and endless intertwinings.
The shaft of light that appears slowly from above to pinpoint the lovers' clasped hands as they lie exhausted from their physical excesses is a masterly stroke of design.
But even in this absorbing beginning there are brief moments of unintentional camp that are disturbing.
You can take the man out of drag, but at least in Mete's case, you can't completely remove the drag from the man.
And there are long moments to follow that are a distinct drag in a different way.
The endless slow walking and endless moments of complete inaction makes Butoh look like a hoedown.
There are even lengthy passages of loud-to-distortion Wagner, obviously an overwhelming experience for Parmenter, with a totally empty stage, that cut swathes of the audience adrift.
Some, with particularly placid eardrums, went to sleep.
Tristan's death scene, much of it a stationary display of tortured back muscles, followed by some melodramatic writhing in, over and under the elastic-tethered sail, fails to capture the tragic passion it intends, even though the final duet with Isolde manhandling Tristan's lifeless form is shocking and clever.
Parmenter is a clever man, choreographer and miraculously still a dancer of note. But this Tristan and Isolde fails to fire.
Weather, an earlier work by Parmenter and performed with striking dancer Sara-Jayne Howard, is first up on the programme - and a winner. Howard brings a vibrant power and presence to this piece of non-stop and exacting, pure dance that has poor Parmenter sweating to keep up with her.
Performance
*Review: Tristan and Isolde
*Where: Maidment Theatre
*Reviewer: Bernadette Rae
The best of Michael Parmenter's study of intense love and its release only in death, inspired by the opera and his recent travels in Bayreuth, comes early in the piece.
The opening scene, in which Tane Mete, as Isolde, stands in draped white gown with a dramatic sail furled diagonally across
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