Where else would you see sand drawings following each other with astonishing fluency, a couple struggling to make contact through thin drapery, a woman with the most beautiful arms (yes, really) in the world clacking castanets with astonishing virtuosity and dancing to music ranging from european jazz / new age piano to straight flamenco guitar and Arab percussion and singing that went from flamenco to pure arabian.
The arms give it away. It has to be Maria Pages. I caught Dunas at Sadlers' Wells on Friday, and was entranced, amazed and reminded that Ms Pages is one of the sexiest women alive. Oh and Sidi Larbi Cherkaoui can dance a fight between two of his shadows. Luke Jennings' review in the Guardian is a neat description. He's missing the point when he says that Ms Pages doesn't seem to change her style to match the settings and work of Sidi Cherkaoui: she doesn't need to. Some artists don't, not many, but she is one of them. Miles didn't change much in his playing against the changing music his sidemen made either. I can tell you, the audience I saw it with were entranced.
I'm off to see the Dutch National Ballet next Friday. I'm sure they will be wonderful, but they won't be magic and they won't weave everything Pages and Cherkaoui did so seamlessly and entrancingly.
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