al.chem'i.cal

Oh dear, I hate to be one of those people who comes out saying I didn't like it as much as his old stuff. In the feature in today's Guardian Robert Wilson says that collaborator Bernice Johnson Reagon introduced him to a new theatrical language, and maybe I just wasn't able fully to absorb that this evening, but I missed the boldness of geometry and the sheer strangeness of form. My impression is that the music of (previous RW collaborators) Philip Glass, Hans Peter Kuhn or Tom Waits sits more easily with Wilson's visual discipline than does the spiritual/gospel sweep of Reagon's music. They may all share repetitive patterns, but Wilson doesn't naturally exude African sensibility (his attempt at dancing during the curtain call was bold but teetered on the edge of cringe-making). Imagine a Peter Greenaway film with Luther Vandross or Grover Washington doing the score, and you might see what I mean. Don't take my word for it: perhaps I need to catch up with RW's new moves, and the Independent seemed more enthusiastic about it in their preview.