The Aika Collective: two cellists, one composer, one dancer. Having recently grappled with ballet-based psychological thriller Black Swan, I have become slightly wary of anything involving dance, particularly when it is entitled ‘Contortions’. This was the final piece in the programme, a commission from young composer Hannah Varty, which explored different ways of producing sound on a cello: who would have thought of playing it lying down? Or moving around the room whilst balancing the cello spike on the back of a dancer? Poor Ilona Jäntti bore the brunt of this experimentation. She spent the rest of the performance creating sculptural contortions of her body, whilst constantly responding to the cello music as if possessed by it. In adapting her routine for the setting of Kettle’s Yard, she was forced to dispense with her usual prop - a suspended hoop - and resort to floor-based movement instead. Cello and dance: a match made in heaven?

Admittedly I found myself cringing at times - some of the translations from music to dance were painfully literal, and the relatively sparse music meant that Jäntti was often simply milling around, albeit very gracefully. In the first piece in particular (‘Cel’), the dialogue between cello and dancer seemed stilted, almost too restrained - musician (Jo Keithley) and dancer were given little opportunity to really show off. Maybe it was simply that aerial acrobatics did not translate to the floor, or maybe it was that Varty’s musical spectacle would have functioned better as a gallery exhibit rather than a traditional recital. Whilst cello worked well visually alongside the medium of dance, the whole performance would have benefitted from a more visceral sound.

Ligeti’s ‘Sonata for Cello’ - at one time censored by the Soviet Composers’ Union - was also on the menu. Very exposed, this piece commands a tricky balance between poetic folk-like melodies and grating virtuosity which Keithley, a true performer, achieved with style.

Kettle’s Yard has a thriving contemporary music scene, which should not be missed by anyone with a vague interest in the musically bizarre. Next week: harps and spiders. I’m still in debate.