Encontros Acarte '92: One and the others (Part Three)
You can read more about André Lepecki and his poetics as a writer on the following link: http://www.sarma.be/nieuw/critics/lepecki.htm
CREDITS
Editor Sarma: Myriam Van Imschoot
Editor Portugal: Monica Guerreiro
Research in Lisbon: Jeroen Peeters
Coördination: Steven De Belder, Jeroen Peeters, Charlotte Vandevyver, Myriam Van Imschoot
Translator: Clive Thoms
Financial Support: Portuguese Institute for the Arts
Thank you to: André Lepecki for the contribution to this anthology, BLITZ for giving consent to republish the texts on www.sarma.be, Diana Teixeira (typiste)
In the week that João Fiadeiro premieres his new piece, I’ll devote most of my article to him.
1. O que eu penso que ele pensa que eu penso (What I think that he thinks that I think), Companhia Re.Al
In the depressing dialogue that exists nowadays between critics and creators, both sides often taken the offensive. I don’t like this and I try not to do it when I write about dance. The last piece by João Fiadeiro that I reviewed was his duet for Klapstuk. I said at the time that I didn’t identify with the aesthetic material the choreographer set out to work with. Today, I hope it’s clear that it isn’t a question of taste, mine or Fiadeiro’s. It was just, to my great regret, that he wasn’t up to the task. And that’s what I think that I think that I think.
On September 11th João Fiadeiro presented the world première of his latest production, this being the first time that a representative of what has been called New Portuguese Dance has had his work shown at the Encontros Acarte. It was a surprising show, but not alas in the positive sense. Having closely followed João Fiadeiro’s career in choreography, and even having worked closely with him on two of his latest pieces, what most amazed me about this piece was how the choreographer lacked the capacity to resolve basic problems in the structure of the performance, something that Fiadeiro has long since shown himself to be capable of doing. I’m talking about a sense of timing, of interconnection between choreographic elements, the relationship between soundtrack and movement, the exposition of a concept, the plausible use of staging elements, the relevance of actions and emotions revealed by the dancers within the aesthetic premises (formal, conceptual) which the choreographer sets himself in each piece.
I had the chance to see the performance on the two days it was presented. And from both performances I am left with the same impression of a poorly sketched out idea. The piece starts with the choreographer’s trademark element, present in his work since the quartet presented at the choreographic workshop organized by the Gulbenkian Ballet in 1989 up to the duet presented at Klapstuk’91 – an introduction which serves as a kind of title page, where the thematic content to be explored is presented to the audience. But in this latest piece, Fiadeiro decided not to demarcate this introductory moment, which goes on while the audience is finding their seats, from the rest of the choreography, instead letting it gradually dissolve and fade away up to the opening moment, which is only signalled by the house lights going off: the same atmosphere in terms of sound, gestures and concepts is maintained for longer than is bearable, as the dancers explore and discover each other. This approach (i.e. the notion of fascinated exploration) appears to be the only idea which Fiadeiro has seized on as the basis for the dramatic intention of the actions over the course of the piece, and as an idea it is frankly limited and tiring: in formal terms it resulted in glances being exchanged between partners and the consequent exercises in “contact” between dancers – in which the spatial arrangement of the bodies was not particularly successful – and in races around the stage, which didn’t make much sense. I’m sorry: there are two ideas in the choreography, real and robust ideas. The blind women, moaning softly, as they were handled by their partners, at the edge of the stage, a moment which is lost and which only the music recalls one or twice. The other idea, presented to throbbing music, in which Fiadeiro displays his skill in constructing interesting and vigorous movement.
The choreography is rather squeezed in between Marta Wengorovius’ powerful sets, in which the golden floor and the objects sparsely strewn around the stage suggest a dreamlike landscape, and the imposing and excellent original score by João Lucas, who used voices and samples to create a similarly dreamlike atmosphere to which Abbondanza’s costumes added a somewhat childlike quality. The picture was completed by the dancers, heavily made up and staring at the audience in a sort of neo-expressionistic way, and the whole was repeatedly rammed down the audience’s neck.
It is hard to find any relation between the images (visual and sound) and the dance. More overall direction is needed to ensure that the various parts add up to a whole. And to avoid the shocking lack of coordination between the dancers (especially noticeable to anyone who had just seen Anne de Mey’s piece), such as that seen at the second performance in some of the unison passages.
2. Sonatas 555; Terramara; Timbila te Venas; Kathakali
Anne de Mey, a founder member of Anne Teresa de Keersmaeker’s Rosas Company, presented in Lisbon her Sonatas 555, a piece in which the premises of dance, such as the enjoyment of seeing bodies in movement (and where the idea of “grace” is hovering in the wings), are the key to creativity. With extremely rigorous work in the field of movement, and the help of excellent dancers, De Mey has managed to produce a carnal flavour which is not what you necessarily expect to the music of Scarlatti. Nine dancers, rather than the ten announced in the programme, and a sheep, just to be (gratuitously) provocative (other readings would go beyond what the show actually suggests), provided the audience at the Gulbenkian’s Main Auditorium, at the Saturday family matinee, with a neat and enjoyable summary of the two great names in contemporary Belgian choreography: Vandekeybus and Keersmaeker.
Michele Abbondanza premiered his duet Terramara with Antonella Bertoni, in the Sala Polivalente, on September 13th. With a superb stage design, the performance swung between the premises of performance art, reinforced by the installation-like sets, and the post-modern ideas of Carolyn Carlsson. With a subtle sense of humour, rarely to be found nowadays, and two good dancers (Bertonni is excellent), the disjointed succession of bodily and scenographic episodes made up a rather uneven whole, which was occasionally rather dull. The oranges scattered around the stage in the course of the piece, some of the movements and the use of wicker baskets suggested a symbolism which a psychoanalyst would find curious, but which is less interesting for those watching the piece. And so we come to the two more “ethnographic” items in the programme of the Encontros. The Chopi musicians and dancers from Mozambique, who filled the Open-air Amphitheatre with their dancing and rhythms, from September 13th to 15th, and the Indian Kathakali theatre group, which performed in the Main Auditorium on September 14th and 15th. Both performances suggest a number of questions which belong more properly to the field of anthropology: what is genuine in the contemporary arts, what is tradition when the Chopi dancers wear t-shirts which say “Texas” and neckties around their waists like ornaments, or when the Hindu actors present in one of the traditional forms of Indian theatre a piece called King Lear, by one William Shakespeare? And lastly, where are we the audience located when confronted by these genuinely spectacular displays?
A series of questions to which the Encontros, in their new form, provided no answers, as the programme did little more than throw a disconnected series of performances in the audience’s general direction (and audience which dwindles from year to year, less enthusiastic than before, which makes me think that the audience attracted by these Encontros has undergone a change), without any programmatic explanations (not a single line in the programme seeks to explain the criteria for choosing work for presentation at the festival). It seems as if the Encontros are resting on their laurels, relying on their past glories and innovations which, even when less successful pieces were presented, lent a sense of coherence to the event. The festival has been institutionalized and seeks the safety of big names, which is not always a guarantee of quality. And the lack of professionals in the audience, at most of the performances, was a clear sign of this trend.