Michael Clark has been thrilling his truly diverse audience for 25 years now, and I’m still reeling from last night’s performance at the Barbican. Because I’ve been to nearly every show he’s produced, I’m familiar with and love Clark’s characteristic vocabulary, which is off balance, almost cubist in the way that he forces the angles of body to achieve a flattened silhouette, and always interpreting the bored, repetetive gestures of the everyday into something beautiful yet familiar. He’s a truly accessible choreographer, the audience is testament to that, a melting pot of clubland, musicians, actors and of course dance afficionados.

Michael Clark has always been about the music. Another reason for his accessibility, he’s a fan just like us and has been lucky enough to share the stage with many of his heroes: The Fall, Laibach, Wire (I remember going to see Wire live mainly because Clark was rumoured to be dancing on stage with them, only to have him crawl on and roll off again within a few minutes) and last night the Holy Trinity of David Bowie, Iggy Pop and Lou Reed were the main focus of the piece. Next to the credits for the performance in the programme the words THE END are superimposed on what looks like a hospital corridor or some institution or other….echoes of Ziggy Stardust’s final performance? I hope not, in fact the part where the dancers performed in front of a projection of David Bowie singing Heroes, in their Bowie-esque unitards with copycat leather bombers, and the choreography was beautifully literal, Nathaniel whispered ‘Pan’s People” in my ear and I thought what a perfect analogy. Whether he meant it in a derogatory way or not (I don’t think so), the performance was as much like the high-art equivalent of dancing around your bedroom and doing the motions which express the lyrics I’ve ever seen. And the hugeness of Bowie, towering over the stage, was such a beautifully simple evocation of icon and fan.

While we’re on the subject of unitards, every part of the show, which had 2 intermissions and numerous costume changes (including pastel yashmaks, gravity-defying spray on silver leggings, an entire bodysuit of sequins and the most lovingly hand-dip-dyed fade from pale flesh through firesome red I’ve ever seen on a unitard!) all created by the genius that is Stevie Stewart. As the dip-dyed colour fade was topped by a Breton tailored jacket for all the dancers, transforming the look to bold and sharp and the girls stomped on arm in arm (on point!) to Jean Genie, I thought I was in leotard heaven and couldn’t wait to tell Stevie she’d really surpassed herself this time after the show. Their collaboration began in 1984, so it’s not surprising that Stevie can interpret Clark’s artistic vision so effectively, but there’s something so perfect about their union.

I always crave more of Michael Clark himself, for the last 20-odd years, his appearance would render the other dancers almost invisible, but his time spent on stage dwindles year by year until now he makes strange dark comedy cameos in his own work. And his costumes are markedly in contrast to the other dancers, baggy tracksuit pieces which he seems to hide inside, as he walks across the stage in the background, only stopping to spit out a mouthful of water. But I like it. Last night, he did a wierd belly flop in what looked like a child’s car seat, then rolled off in his prop while the dancers got on with the business in hand.

They’re taking the show on tour and you HAVE to go. Big thanks to Stevie for sorting out our tickets at the last minute, I was LAME whilst secretly hoping she would….Michael Clark is “British dance’s true iconoclast”, to support the company’s future, make a donation here, I’m going to, I don’t know how I could survive another 25 years without him!

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