The pop sounds of the 1980s at Torinodanza

Ennio Flaiano wrote in his *Diario notturno*: ‘He has such a lack of faith in the future that he makes his plans for the past’. It was 1956, and with the foresight of a witty and polemical intellectual, the writer had, well in advance, picked up on that sense of alienation and unease which, in the current drift of society, seems all too familiar to us. When we struggle to imagine a tomorrow – especially in the midst of an economic, environmental and political crisis, with the spectre of a new world war looming – the past becomes a refuge, an Eden-like landscape capable of making us forget that every era has had its own disasters.

The nostalgia that pervades our society finds expression not only in the socio-political backlash that has turned the clock back by decades, but also in the realms of thought, art and the performing arts. In this regard, the show *Cassette vol.1* by the American choreographer Kyle Abraham, dedicated to the pop sounds of the 1980s, made its debut in recent days to round off a particularly varied and stimulating edition of the Torinodanza festival; it is also scheduled to run at the Triennale di Milano (14–15 October), at the Valli in Reggio Emilia for the Festival Aperto (18 October) and at the Teatro Grande in Brescia (21 October).

The backbone of the show is a veritable compilation of songs that have shaped the collective imagination of a generation that grew up during the cosy years of Reaganite hedonism. These were ‘carefree’ years but, as the choreographer points out, they also marked the emergence of a society open to dialogue and cultural fusion, the complexity of the African-American community, and the reawakening of imagination and street culture: ‘The show,’ explains Abraham, ‘leaves room for the ridiculous and for references to pop culture, inviting the audience to laugh at the excesses and to be moved by the humanity of lost memories.’

At the back of the stage, five white mannequins stand out, along with a payphone and a cassette player – an iconic object that also reappears on stage in the form of the Walkman, with its unmistakable sound of the tape loading and running. On the wall, a number of television screens show images from the era: from adverts to pioneering TV series, right through to news programmes in which the face of the former Hollywood actor and President of the United States, Ronald Reagan, can be recognised.

From You Make My Dreams by Daryl Hall & John Oates to Walk Like An Egyptian by the Bangles, from Let’s Work by Prince to Venus by Bananarama, right through to ‘Bette Davis Eyes’ by Kim Carnes, it is a succession of rhythms and emotions, which the eleven excellent dancers – in colourful leotards and sporting the curly rock-star wigs of the era – interpret in an unconventional manner, in the sense that we do not see them moving in the ‘disco’ style of the era, as one might expect, but rather performing a graceful vocabulary of movements that draws as much on ballet as on Trisha Brown-style post-modern dance, with a few allusions to hip hop. There is little variation in the repetition of leaps, turns and stretches, performed in unison, individually or in pairs during the romantic ‘slow’ sections, but this elegant fluidity of movement evokes a sense of well-being, joie de vivre and a longing for connection.