JUSQUA VIMY choreography by Laurence Lemieux (Citadel + Compagnie). At the Citadel (304 Parliament). Runs to November 25. $20-$25. 416-364-8011, citadelcie.com. See listing. Rating: NNN
The Battle of Vimy Ridge has near-mythic significance for many Canadians, including those descended from the soldiers who fought there (myself included). Inspired by this years 100th anniversary of the battle, Citadel + Cies artistic director Laurence Lemieux has crafted a sorrowful tribute to the young men who left humble homes in Regent Park and Cabbagetown to fight.
We meet eight of those soldiers in the opening moments. Clad in khaki uniforms, each stands briefly at attention while a projected montage of archival materials address and next of kin details, military wills, casualty reports, notes of commendation gives us a glimpse of individual lives.
From here the dancers form an ad hoc troop, crossing the stage at a walk, then at a run, in increasingly fraught formations. There are fleeting partnerships as they meet in a quick waltz half-turn or catch each other stumbling. Battle is depicted, but not graphically, in small gestures of terror or self-protection as bombs burst on projections that engulf the dancers. They die many times over the course of the dance, and rise to attention before falling once more.
Jusqua Vimy doesnt feature much of a narrative, rather it has been crafted as an impressionistic elegy to those who sacrifice everything to war, including people on the home front. Kaitlin Standeven is a recurring ghostly presence in period dress, appearing briefly to cross the stage, read a letter and embody worry but without visible emotion. Towards the end Standeven appears carrying a military greatcoat, which she unfolds and puts on for a simple, mournful dance of lunges and slowly whirling movement among the strewn bodies.
A final formation has the men lying quietly at rest amid the projected green landscapes of peacetime. The sounds of daily life birdcalls, kids playing fill the air. Life goes on.
Among the works masterful elements are Jeremy Mimnaghs poetic wall projections and John Gzowskis layered score, in which found sound is balanced against delicate singing and explosive orchestrations, adding weight to this elegant, unarguably heartfelt, dance.
But while the shows restraint and refinement is welcome, it is also at odds with the barbaric and brutal realities of war. For me, at least, there is uncomfortable tension around this idea of beautiful art-making and ugly authenticity.
