<B>MICHAEL CLARK: ORIGINAL BRITISH</B><P>WHO: MICHAEL CLARK COMPANY<BR>WHEN: WED 24 - SUN 28 OCTOBER<BR>WHERE: SADLER'S WELLS<BR>TICKETS: 020 7863 8000<P><BR>Another millennium, another comeback. And a most welcome one it is. Michael Clark returns to Umbrella 2001 for the first time since 1998. The vehicle is an internationally co-produced programme in which the British original is looking to the future without forgetting his glorious -some might say notorious - past.<P>One of Clark's pieces will be composed primarily of early work made to music by The Fall, with additional new vocal links between the songs. It will also feature Leigh Bowery costumes and sets by Trojan, designs that helped establish Clark and company as one of the defining cultural entities of the early 1980s.<P>"Something about Leigh's costumes allowed us to become characters other than ourselves," Clark remarks. "It was very enjoyable to do, but complicated, not easy." What is revisiting the work like? "Quite strange, and very interesting, some of the very decorative shapes I was working with back then. But I'm probably thinking more about what I'm saying now. I want to use old material to make something that isn't just a revival." The idea, then, is the antithesis of a cheesy, 'Greatest Hits' nostalgia trip. Rather, Clark is keen for audiences, whether new to his work or not, "to see my most recent work in the context of the earlier work."<P>Fans of Clark the dancer may be disappointed. As his 39th birthday approaches, he's aware of the physical limitations engendered by the inescapable fact of maturing. Eight dancers are being enlisted for the current project. "I'm pretty determined it won't include me," Clark says, explaining, "I would like to make something where I'm not the blueprint for how everybody else should look or dance. I'll probably be able to do a better job on the choreography and help the dancers more. It's important for me to be able to step back. In the last piece [1998's current/SEE] I was finding it difficult to be at the centre and give the dancers around me the kind of management and direction they needed. I'm very excited about the ones I have now." They are young, however, and, for the sake of balance, Clark hopes to recruit some slightly more seasoned performers.<P>Another of Clark's collaborators is the young (mid-30s) and versatile British artists Sarah Lucas. Time Out art critic Sarah Kent enthusiastically describes Lucas' work as 'smart, funny and crude. She'll use things lying about - furniture, or fruit. Her work is usually about gender, and often quite obscene. And it just keeps getting better and better.'<P>Lucas and Clark met socially and clicked. He later spent a bit of time working for her - "when I was skint," he says - on a series of objects that needed fresh cigarettes individually glued to them. "It was at a time when she was giving up smoking herself," Clark says. "I kind of thought if we had to see each other every day, a dialogue would begin." It did. In early May, Clark was still speculating on just what Lucas will come up with for him. Although she normally works on what he deems "a very human scale," for him she might create "a very large object."<P>Clark is modest in the memories of his pre-fame days. "All I'd done was a couple of pieces in a Royal [Ballet School] workshop." But the savvy David Gothard saw them and, because of his position at Riverside Studios, was able to offer Clark space there. The young man accepted the invitation, even though at the time he wondered, "What is he basing this on?" The first review Clark got in Time Out savaged his work as 'a wanky disaster.'<P>Still, Clark got noticed, and then some. In its heyday his company drew an audience eager to experience the barrier-breaking dance-based entertainment Clark was offering. "I thought I was quite ambitious in terms of what dance as an art form could be," he concurs. "Not only that it might be taken more seriously, but also that more interesting people might be making dance at the same time." Retrospectively, it seems his maverick presence was not necessarily catalytic."I was disappointed," Clark says. "I kind of disappeared for four years [in the early 90s] and came back and felt nothing had really changed." His comments about a pattern he saw developing in<BR>British dance are withering. "There are quite a lot of not very interesting people who can dance, people who thought they were good dancers and could be good choreographers too."<P>Until recently, with the flowering of a 'next generation' of dance-makers like Akram Khan, Wayne McGregor and Henri Oguike [all of whom have had associations with Dance Umbrella], few British-based artists have managed to generate the buzz that belonged to Clark. Sadler's Wells was the sight of some of his most blazing, controversial London triumphs. His Umbrella performances there this autumn will be the first since 1988. Clark would naturally prefer using live music. But, after touring current/SEE with four dancers and seven musicians, this time he says he's keen to "channel the money into the dance."<P>The revival piece apart, this summer Clark may concoct more than one totally new work. Musically he's been toying with the sound of producer Phil Spector, the man behind some of the best of America's 1960s girl groups, and also working on a piece to Satie. He's also scouting around for dance theories on which to exercise what he calls "the contrary side of my nature. I usually want to react against something, for instance if I'm told things have to be a certain way." He says he was like this as a child in his native Scotland. "My mother would say 'Stop it!' Whatever it was, I always had to do it one more time. And that's the time it would break." Clark knows in advance that he "won't necessarily agree with what I read. People have developed systems and rules. I find there's something ridiculous about that. At the same time, there might be truth in it. I enjoy that."<P>How stressed is he about the creations and touring that will be demanded of him in the coming months? "I always feel pressure. I put it on myself. I want to do my best. Not that I want it to be better than anything I've done before. I just want to feel I'm taking the work to another level."<P><P>------------------<BR>This interview was posted by Stuart Sweeney on behalf of Donald Hutera.<P>Donald Hutera writes regularly on dance and arts for The Times, Evening Standard, Time Out, Dance Europe, Dance Magazine (US) and Dance Now. He is co-author, with Allen Robertson, of The Dance Handbook.<P>This interview first appeared in either the Spring or Autumn 2001 editions of Dance Umbrella News. <BR> <BR>Join Dance Umbrella's mailing list to receive future editions of Dance Umbrella News. <BR>Call: 020 8741 5881 <BR>Email:
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