A sample of experimental writing on dance between 2017-2019, published at Viereinhalb Saetze. My writing for the Tanzschreiber platform in a more traditional format can be visited at their site; click here.
Albert Quesada & Zoltán Vakulya: OneTwoThreeOneTwo. 04.04.2019, Lillian Baylis Studio, Sadlers Wells, London.
the chords strike as i have never heard them before, the prickly guitar and aching voice of flamenco shaken up and spilled out into two bodies whirling on stage. forms and tensions are diced and split into almost this, almost that, never quite there as sounds and shapes are reexamined, refashioned, reorganised, and sometimes, simply, removed. i recognise the movements—fundaments of daily training—and yet, as i try to fix my vision, they slip away into something else: a history of heartbreak, longing, posturing are shred into ribbons of backs and bones spun across a square floor. as milky legs twist round, sweat shines down spines, his ankle cocks inward as his hand stretches out, hovering between recklessness, longing, and hesitation. gulf of beauty.
Alan Lucien Oyen / TANZTHEATER WUPPERTAL: Neues Stueck.. 01.09.2018, TANZ IM AUGUST, Volksbuehne, Berlin.
Who is harder than Pina Bausch to follow? An exciting but formidable task, surely, and, anyway, making things is hard, let’s not forget that. We can’t deny the beauty in those arms, the sheer presence she had, the ever perfect timing—we couldn’t stop watching the veterans, for everything they did, even nothing, was immense, but it was a pity to watch them do that, viz. nothing, to be just glorious in their own thick beauty and magnetic power, while dance hung sparsely as decoration, the text gave them little (in fact made it all rather foolish), and the music proved decidedly unhelpful in its unceasingly relentless nostalgia. Yiiiick. Investigating the loss of our (male) family members is not an uninteresting subject, but without any dramaturgy, without any reason for caring about that loss—happy memories, memorable lessons, moments of comfort, joy, surprise—we care not, and so sit, alone, for nearly four hours, in the dark, astonished in the wrong way.
Nick Power: BETWEEN TINY CITIES រវាងទីក្រុងតូច. 25.08.2018, TANZ IM AUGUST,
Sophiensaele, Berlin.
A crane, a dragon, two lovers, one body, a friendship, a battle, headspins, freeezing. Two dancers trace the circle, inviting and daring each other—a piece sliced into sections of imitation, coaxing, commraderie, contest, and cohesion—their legs splitting and unfolding in the air like origami folded and unfolded in real time. The sweat drips / their bodies tremble, shake, groove, flip / I feel my heart swell at all this joy, all of this release, which feels so right and yet so rare / two wrists arced just ever so differently bearing the tale of traditions, cultures, histories of dance, histories of the body, histories of the world. What I do not understand is the shield of crossed arms and static bodies that encircle them, this audience which assumes its own right to consume, absorbing and blocking energy instead of reflecting and returning the life force which these two performers give in such abundance. But the children are still unformed, unmanageable, malleable, and they laugh and pulse and grow serious, the lines of life and friendship and battle etched in their responding bodies as in the figures on stage.
Crystal Pite (with text by Jonathon Young): The Statement. 29.11.2017, Nederlands Dans Theater (NDT 1) at Haus der Berliner Festspiele, Berlin.
One act, four characters, one problem: the issue is indistinct but serious, and, as with such problems, someone is sent down from upstairs, on the record/off the record.
We are all familiar with dark ambiguities, with that bureaucratic dialogue, we hear the back and forth spoken and know it as our own, but now it is underlined with movement outrageous, dangerous, sharp, and desperate, now it is peeled back with physicality fragile, courageous, and raw.
The physicality is impossibly apt, impossibly virtuosic yet impossibly necessary, sometimes affirming our opinions, at other times denying us, surprising us, dismantling us — so much movement and yet all meaningful — the harm that banal evil wrecks upon our souls unquestionable.
Trembling, shaken, grateful applause.
An immensely important work for the possibility of dance to alter perspective –– and a startling theatrical, political, artistic, and choreographic achievement.
MIET WARLOP TRIPTYCH
Miet Warlop: Mystery Magnet. 16.09.17., Berlin Art Week, HAU2, Berlin.
It is clear that something has gone terribly wrong, but then, like a green balloon suspended in the air, we remember it’s fun. Weaponised, the cruel jeers of skinny legs prove bullies can make beauty, the most of beautiful of gases, the heart of dog — still, it’s important to take care of the things we love. A small stool, a precious companion. Slapped in the face by the perversity of the equestrian, untenable legs, things take a turn for the worse when we lose our protagonist… process is product, medium is messy, but Germany (Berlin? the art audience?) titters at the crucifixion, nervous, titillated, uneasy. Inflatable heads bellow harmonies before everything lies still as ash… who will sing to us now?
Miet Warlop: Dragging the Bone. 16.09.17., Berlin Art Week, HAU3, Berlin.
The intercom speaks, and I learn some lessons first: humour, it turns out, is the old word for human (did you know!?), so that when we say the « human race » we might as well say « humour race » or « humour resources », for that matter, or acknowledge, as we must, that « we are all just humour after all ». Equipped with this fundamental but largely forgotten knowledge, I learn a few more things: the power of light, the inexhaustible power of creation, and the ability of clay to teach us about the ability of time. The fascination with watching is extreme, even gripping: as clay hardens, worlds are born and smashed and born again. And yet, perhaps the miniskirt, in all its gypsum force, teaches us the bluntest lesson about the laughable constructions we create amongst one another. Height, flexibility, core strength –– time, impossibility, darkness!
Miet Warlop: Fruits of Labor. 16.09.17., Berlin Art Week, HAU1, Berlin.
Sound stretches and doubles over me, inflates my ears, plumps my heart, lanky boys swoop and slide on stage, notes are embellished with our most cherished musical tropes: haircuts, glittering women, the look of the lucky ingenue! A rock cord is played… forever… but the question persists: what is trapped inside a song? An investigation is necessary, precarious, methodologies from incarnation to forensics are deployed as the stage and its players are mobilized, deconstructed, repositioned, and decorated — it’s such great fun! The lick of hot lights and the thrill of my heart lead to different discoveries as the crowd leaps to its feet, terrified, happy, and touched. Mind refastened on the object of the concert.
COLLECTIVE ONE:THIRD: Fate of the Galaxies. 20.07.2017, SOUN D ANCE Festival, Dock 11, Berlin
One of the joys of watching, or taking part in, improvisation is the multitude of potentials each movement has; not all can be followed up, choices must, of course, be made, but the action of choice-making, so explicitly clear in improvisation, is in itself beautifully wrought with paths taken and those left unexplored. Such was palpably evident in the work of six dancers — Edith Buttingsrud Pedersen, Annukka Hirvonen, Sarah Jegelka, Justyna Kalbarczyk, Stefanie Petracca, and Roberta Ricci — who, together with electric guitarist Hannes Buder and lighting artist Emese Csornai, opened the SOUN D ANCE festival with a view to how instant composition can serve as a „laboratory of real life“ for those of diverse countries and cultural backgrounds. Through series of duets, trios, and group work (seldom featuring, perhaps quite meaningfully so, the solo) the eight artists infused the atmosphere with both typical motifs (wandering hands, diagonal balances, tinklings on the cords of the guitar) and unexpected suggestions (relational pulls between bodies, a sound emerging from genuine watching, the rare but surprising pedestrian gesture), building to a generous final offering which balanced the individual dancers‘ own inclinations and internal developments with the work of Buder and Csornai — and while the music of Buder at times led, at times illustrated, and at times was inspired by the movement of bodies on stage, it seemed rather an old sadness to see six beautiful female bodies dance to, or even with, one male voice. Yet the artists were accomplished: so enriching was their ability to bear an idea through from inception to maturity, that traces from seed to blossom were really possible. Yet not devoid of the fizz of uncertainty that makes improvisation so special.
Doris Uhlich + Michael Turinsky: Ravemachine. 21.05.2017, Sophiensaele, Berlin.
Closing Sophiensaele’s four day festival Every Body, which investigates the individual and communicative potentials of ’non-normative‘ bodies, Doris Uhlich and Michael Turinsky present their thumping and explosive duet Ravemachine. „My machine / my machine is yours / your machine / your machine is mine“, utters Turinsky in the first phase of silence, inaugurating one of the piece’s most interesting themes (namely, in which ways do machines erase and enforce our differences?), and introducing the binaries, which will be swapped all performance, between two bodies and two machines: wheelchair and DJ set. With Uhlich as DJ, the crushing beats create the activation energy which brings Turinsky off his chair, into space, and, eventually, into his duet with Uhlich — all of this takes time: careful yet pulsing transformations allow us to feel both the uncanny familiarity and the miraculous strangeness of the human body. While Turinsky’s focus and presence are relentless and concrete, throughout much of the performance Uhlich’s is nonchalant: after having watched her saunter across the stage and mimic movements with an exaggerated casualness, the smooth, endless circles in which she swivels once in the wheelchair — moving not from her spot but creating more drama and meaning than all of her long, purposeful, two-legged strides — remind us that the most obvious/efficient/normative way to do things is not always the most enriching nor the most beautiful. A celebration and an investigation that left as many questions…
Joshua Rutter: task/force. 18.11.17. SODA WORKS FESTIVAL 10, Uferstudios, Berlin.
Please select the answer that best completes the following sentences:
(1) A ball can be defined as such by…
(a) its size
(b) its shape
(c) its response to the label ‘ball’
(d) its role in creative processes
(2) The power of chalk lies in…
(a) its accessibility and low cost
(b) its impermanence
(c) its ability to depict Buddhist truths about time
(d) its potential for humour
(e) all of the above
(3) To make a home one needs…
(a) plywood
(b) a housing permit
(c) a good sense of geometry
(d) (a) and (b)
(e) (a) and (c)
(f) (b) and (c)
(4) The piece is best considered in light of…
(a) elementary physics
(b) parallel universes
(c) attempts to embody computational processes
(d) a Saturday morning in the garage
(e) (a) and (b)
(f) (a) and (c)
(g) (b) and (d)
(h) all of the above