Miranda

Tonight Company Chordelia bring their blend of modern ballet and theatre to a new work: Miranda. The piece was conceived by founder and Artistic Director Kally Lloyd-Jones, who also dances the title role. Beautifully staged, there is much to admire here, but a lack of choreographic flare left the piece somewhat flat.

Miranda is a lonely drunk, haunted by her former child-self. The puppet-master of the tale, linking the adult and child Mirandas is Pierrot (Kimberley Lawrie). Like a possessed doll she haunts both characters, shadowing them and articulating their inner demons, acting as both comforter and ghostly companion. Lawrie's beguiling steps were choreographically the most interesting aspect of the piece, as she mirrors Miranda's mournful ballet steps with a modern, tempered and even flow. Lawrie's stage presence as mimetic comfort blanket is graceful and strange.

The Child (Kirsty Pollock) was the most enjoyable to watch of the three performers. Unpredictable and exuberant as a scared, angst ridden little girl, her playful spirit was charming, especially so beside Lawrie's distant and ominous presence. Lloyd-Jones' Miranda, leaning distinctly toward a balletic tone, seemed a slightly hackneyed heroine, too full of regret and sorrow. While the role was danced well, what should be a deeply personal and expressive choreography is often over reliant on a lazy dramatisation of the washed up drunk. This is coupled with a tried and tested choreography which leaves one somewhat cold.

A touching duet between the older and younger Mirandas, mirroring and mourning one another with Pierrot skulking behind, enlivened the piece for several minutes. Beyond moments like this, the choreography of the piece lapses into predictability. While the dancing lacked spark, Janis Hart (design), Grahame Gardner (lighting design) and Lynda Cochrane (composer) deserve recognition. Beautiful lighting, a gorgeous set and a subtle, expressive score all helped to support the piece. Musically Cochrane's piano, which was set on stage, the keys moving of their own accord, was an eerie highlight.

Fleeting references to Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake cleverly helped to contextualise the loose fallen-heroine narrative, without being overbearing. There were moments when the soundtrack became heavy handed however; loud amplified breathing through blackouts, which trampled on careful subtlety.

Overall Miranda is slightly disappointing. There's merit in the performances, the set, the music, yet somehow the piece as a whole refuses to gel. There's a lack of vigour and emotional resonance in places, and a serious over-egging of atmospheric texture in others.