At Aerowaves’ Spring Forward Festival 2022, Fatima Ndoye presented her curatorial project, Génération A – The Lab, to the Startup Forum, an initiative for budding dance presenters. One year later in Senegal, the lab took place, an artistic meeting between three European and three African artists or companies. As of September 2023, the French Ministry of Foreign Affairs banned all further cultural collaboration with artists from Niger, Burkina Faso and Mali, a result of ongoing tension in these former French colonies – an injunction met with alarm by co-artistic directors Ndoye and Alioune Diagne, although it turned out that prior arrangements were honoured. The Génération A emerged from an invitation by Théâtre Paris-Villette and culminates in a festival dedicated to African contemporary dance. It is by some miracle, then, that as I write this, the third edition of the festival unfolds, as intended, over 5 days in Paris.
But ahead of Paris came a pit-stop in London, and a double bill. Xarito begins with Gaël Ndecky, centre stage with head bowed. Soulful, looping vocal hums invite his body into carefully rippled movement, fingers splayed wide like fans. El Hadji Malick Ndiaye enters; the nature of their relationship is unclear beyond the clothes they share. ‘Xarito’ is the Wolof word for friendship, but I don’t learn this until afterwards.
Both artists are b-boys, and run dance company Urban Art SN, in Senegal. Breakdancing, including the ubiquitous back spin with cartwheeling legs, is abruptly spliced with more contemporary movement. In fact, abruptness is a quality that bookends many phrases in Xarito. movement breaking pensive pauses with expansive, athletic bursts. Breakdance, though fluid in its own way, often lands awkwardly, a series of tricks, albeit impressive, that briefly puncture a drawn-out atmosphere.
A striking element of Xarito is its fearlessness with patient silences, emphasising sustained tableaux. Ndiaye is stacked, back-to-back upon Ndecky, legs hovering mid-run, and Ndecky walks with this burden. Ndiaye then drags his friend, slumped corpse-like across his back. One stands on the stomach of the other as the audience wince. It is cumbersome, this load they acquire and relinquish in turn. Friendship is integral to their endurance of this burden but exists in tandem with conflict. Xarito draws on Senegalese wrestling dances, the ritualistic performances preceding the intense West African combat sport. Combat, clamber and attack they do, before resuming grounded, restless unison; loyalty outweighs conflict.
Facesoul’s healing vocals have found commercial appeal, recently featuring in 2024 blockbuster Monkey Man, which proves hard to separate from the organic dance of Xarito, especially when it succumbs to the structure and sensations of the music. When looping vocals cease, it is a relief to see the movement stand alone, and the artists remain immersed and invested, even without music to bolster them.
