Morris illustrates music in ways I find obvious. When it springs in the air, the dancers do too. When it make little trills and roulades, they skitter in circles and twirl their wrists. He most appeals to me when his ideas don’t depend wholly on the musical structure.
The men in Double begin a large circular pattern, holding hands, dipping and rising, a dance you’d expect women to do. This leads to a long, beautiful development of broken connections and partial linkages. A man in the center of a new circle bourrées on his toes, falls, tries to break out. Bowie suddenly produces the eight women, in long white skirts, and incites the men to more girlish gestures and mincing walks, more circles, more mysterious and ambiguous adventures.
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