The Rooster and Partial Memory are two distinct works of dance that benefit hugely from their juxtaposition. The first is an ensemble piece by the El-Funoun Palestinian Dance Troupe, conducted through dabke folk dance and laden with sociopolitical metaphor. The second is a powerful memoir by troupe member Ata Khattab.
In some of the best dance productions, there can come a point where the thematic trappings of the show fade into the background and the audience is simply left marvelling at the physicality on display. At certain moments in The Rooster, these heights are achieved, if not sustained for the duration – though it's an open question whether such a feat is even possible.
The Rooster exists on the opposite end of the spectrum from dance as lavish, big-budget, gilded lily entertainment. Apart from the dancers' skill, which they possess in abundance, the show does much with extraordinarily little: a smoke machine, some golden beams of light and a mastery of stagecraft accomplish what money and theatrical ephemera never could. Occasionally, the subtle symbolism and largely dialogue-free narrative of The Rooster might give the audience's interpretative abilities too much credit, but that's surely better than the heavy-handed alternative.
While The Rooster is impressive, Partial Memory is heartbreaking. Pessimism suggests that the mere acknowledgement of the Israeli occupation and its attendant tragedies will stir controversy, but Partial Memory is hardly agitprop. It is a lament for a father who should not have been lost, with everything that implies.