Twenty years ago Michael Clark hit the dance world as one of those once-in-a-generation artists who floor the competition with their sheer beauty. Clark's body seemed to have been programmed to create nothing but lustrous shapes, and he had the face of an angel. Akram Khan, 26-year-old dancer of Kathak and modern dance, may be built in a different mould - bigger, darker and more majestic than Clark - but he possesses the same magic on stage.
Polaroid Feet, Khan's current show, is the first I've seen in which he presents a full solo evening of Kathak, and it's a pure showcase for his gifts. Even a first-time viewer of Kathak would guess Khan to be a virtuoso. In the fast weighted turns that are special to the style, he achieves a heady contradiction of precise physical detail preserved within a blur of speed. In the intricacies of Kathak footwork, Khan's feet seem to call on more joints and muscles than is humanly possible as he refracts choreographic rhythm into the most delicate of tremors and the most thrilling of percussive stamps.
But it is Khan's upper body, and especially his face, that hold the key to his uniqueness. His torso has a strength and elasticity that allow him to arch, dip and spiral with extravagant grace; his broad arms are as opulent as a ballerina's; and while there is nothing archaic or precious about his face, its expressive range in performance is rapt, fierce and joyous by turns. His control is such that he can brake from passages of vertiginous speed into a monumental stillness that makes the stage hold its breath.
Two hours of one man dancing may seem a tough call for an audience but the programme feels varied. The first half, I guess, inspires the title Polaroid Feet, for it is the section in which Khan and his four musicians improvise mathematical variations within a 16-count cycle, which Khan then develops into instant snapshots of dance. These show off not only Khan's inventiveness but also the exemplary talents of his band. The tabla player in particular, Vishnu Sahai, is blinding, producing drumming of such complexity that it sounds like the work of several musicians.
This is followed by a narrative dance in which Khan not only articulates, with startling expressiveness, a dialogue between the gods Shiva and Parvati, but also manages to balance within his body the physical power and delicacy of each. The closing dance (choreographed by Khan's guru, Sri Pratap Pawar) is a return to pure virtuosity. At this point, after nearly two hours, Khan has reached the kind of high where, as a dancer, he has become inseparable from the dance. His body, brain and heart are all running free. Even though he's dripping, he looks as if he could continue half the night. And most of us would happily stay and watch.
Ends tonight. Box office: 020-7960 4242.
