Mathilde Monnier, Queen Elizabeth Hall, London

I know why the Caged bird flies

Who was the more deceived? Any spectator fooled by the publicity into attending Mathilde Monnier's show on the South Bank in the expectation that it would reveal something about the legendary Merce Cunningham and John Cage, or Monnier herself if she believes her own blurbs? She apparently attended Cunningham's New York studio in the Eighties, but what she has brought away bears no visible relation to the real thing. This is an instance where what was named on the label was certainly not found in the jar.

But was Signé, signés any good on its own account? The most striking contribution to the evening came from the set designer, Annie Solleter, who somehow contrived that the seemingly elasticated material stretched tight across the stage should take on a curve.

And what did the dancers do in front of this object? One of them spent time pulling on tight white rubber gloves; incongruous with the casual T-shirts they all wore. Two guys for a long time made copulatory movements towards each other, or gazed admiringly at bulges in the other's jeans.

Most peculiar of all perhaps was the fellow who encouraged another to draw breath ("Go on. It's all around you") and then pretended to follow it inside him with a finger moving slowly bit by bit down his back until finally miming an imaginary fart.

Now and again, one or more of them did a few ballet jumps. Earlier, in part one, movement had progressed slowly – oh, so slowly – from individual floor exercises via some flat arabesques (yes, almost a Cunningham touch at last) by a pair of men to a brief final bit of circling in a ring. There was a chap with a video camera who provided some extremely blurred pictures.

Pity the poor dancers perhaps. Hardly, since the title of the work indicated that was signed by them (signés, plural) as well as Monnier (signé, singular). The participants for whom I felt sympathy were the live birds conscripted into part one; allegedly to provide music, but who can blame the one that decided to fly for peace into the audience?

Music perhaps is too strong a word. There was briefly a bit of pseudo-Satie on piano, but mostly what the dj/composer eRikm provided was a collection of noises with the aid of a table-full of electrical equipment. Perhaps the latter was supposed to suggest Cage: no way.

Monnier is based in Montpellier, France and arrived in London supported by many official French organisations, demonstrating that our cross-Channel neighbours can do things as daft as our own arts bodies. If President Jacques Chirac had been present, might he have repeated his recent walking-out activity? If so, he wouldn't have been the only spectator to leave early.