{"id":5876,"date":"2018-05-09T13:10:11","date_gmt":"2018-05-09T17:10:11","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/dancebeat\/?p=5876"},"modified":"2018-05-11T11:31:18","modified_gmt":"2018-05-11T15:31:18","slug":"building-community-skin-against-skin","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/dancebeat\/2018\/05\/building-community-skin-against-skin\/","title":{"rendered":"Building Community, Skin Against Skin"},"content":{"rendered":"

Meg Stuart\/Damaged Goods, working in both Brussels and Berlin, visits NYU Skirball<\/p>\n

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Members of Meg Stuart\/Damaged Goods in Stuart’s UNTIL OUR HEARTS STOP<\/em>. (L to R): Kristof Van Boven (knee only), Claire Vivianne Sobottke, Leyla Postalcioglu, Maria F. Scaroni (in blue), Jared Gradinger, and Neil Callaghan. Photo: Iris Janke<\/p><\/div>\n

The first time I try to access the website of Meg Stuart\/Damaged Goods (based in both Brussels and Berlin), the screen says only \u201ctry to explode;\u201d when I enter it again later, it tells me, \u201cyou have to embrace accident.\u201d I think I\u2019ll try the second now and save the first until later.<\/p>\n

Seeing Stuart\u2019s 2015 UNTIL OUR HEARTS STOP <\/em>at NYU Skirball last week, I regretted again not having seen more of her remarkable, mind-bending choreography, and that every work I had <\/em>seen (except for those she made while getting a BFA from NYU-Tisch in the 1980s) was for only two or three people: Forgeries, Love and Other Matters<\/em> (2006), BLESSED<\/em>, and Maybe Forever<\/em> (both 2007). She has worked on over thirty pieces since she formed her company in 1994.<\/p>\n

Sitting in Skirball, it\u2019s hard to tell what\u2019s being improvised and what came out of improvisation and was then set. Everything the nine performers do looks either as if it\u2019s being decided upon that moment or as if it\u2019s gotten slightly out of hand. The stage (lit by Jurgen Kolb and Gilles Roosen) appears to have been recreated to look like the company\u2019s Brussels studio during rehearsals. Purple flooring surrounds a diagonally-set square as shining as a pond. A couch sits on one side, a piano on the other. At the back, there\u2019s a freestanding fake door, a tall red curtain, and a staircase. Behind vertical slats, you can barely glimpse the lights on what might be a Christmas tree; sometimes its bulbs are colored, sometimes white.<\/p>\n

So what is this place? A studio, a playground, a theater, a physical therapy office, or all four? In it, games happen; so do magic tricks, so does massage. Dancers invade the audience at one point. A couple of people we\u2019ve never seen before briefly appear onstage as if by sorcery and are introduced to us (they\u2019re smoking). Wherever we are, in addition to Skirball, it\u2019s an interesting place and, at times, a shocking and\/or dangerous one.<\/p>\n

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The cast of UNTIL OUR HEARTS STOP<\/em> (L to R): Jared Gradinger and Maria F. Scaroni lifting Claire Vivianne Sobottke, Leyla Postalcioglu, Kristof Van Boven, Neil Callaghan. Photo: Iris Janke<\/p><\/div>\n

In the beginning, we can\u2019t be sure who\u2019s male and who\u2019s female, who\u2019s a dancer and\u2014 except for Samuel Halscheidt, tuning his guitar on one side\u2014who\u2019s a musician The boyish person with a mop of black hair, wearing a loose-cut green top, turns out to be Leyla Postalcioglu; the one with a very short haircut is Maria F. Scaroni. So, with Claire Vivianne Sobottke, that makes three women. The three men dancing are Neil Callaghan, Jared Gradinger, and Kristof Van Boven, but a fourth lying with his face on the shiny floor, as if it were a pond, turns out to be Marc Lohr, the drummer, and one of the bearded guys, Stephen Rusconi, eventually goes to the piano, where the three are to play music\u2014fiercely, delicately atmospheric, often silenced\u2014originally created by Paul Lemp.<\/p>\n

UNTIL OUR HEARTS STOP<\/em> makes you aware of the many ways in which skin encounters skin (these performers have studied various mind\/body disciplines, including releasing techniques). They begin slowly: one goes down on his hands and knees, and someone sits on his back; another sits, and a colleague stands on her thighs. Twosomes become threesomes. Three dancers, say, form themselves into a compact ball. These explorations gradually involve more people and become more and more complex, risky, barely counterbalanced. Two men scrabble fiercely and get pulled apart, not without effort on the part of those who want to separate them.<\/p>\n

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Meg Stuart’s UNTIL OUR HEARTS STOP<\/em>. (Clockwise from bottom): Kristof Van Boven, Jared Gradinger, Claire Vivianne Scaroni, Leyla Postalcioglu, and Neil Callaghan. At back: Samuel Halscheidt (L) and Mark Lohr. Photo: Maarten Vanden Abeele<\/p><\/div>\n

In one scene, the dancers have gradually assembled on the couch; they\u2019re already crammed together when Callahan, having taken off all his clothes, comes over, sits on someone\u2019s lap, and somehow forces his way between two of them. He\u2019d like to sing and sort of does. Pianist Rusconi touches the keys. But those on the couch begin to slide down; clothes come off. They sniff a foot, rub a cheek against a chest, push a face between someone\u2019s thighs. This is not exactly erotic; it\u2019s more like sleepy puppies at play.<\/p>\n

At a later moment, one of the men plays therapist, stroking the chests of two colleagues and then slapping them HARD. Later still, off to the side, Gradinger gradually piles lumps of clay (or something like it) onto Van Boven\u2019s head, completely covering it, and leads him to another spot, where he falls forward onto his face; Gradinger then picks up a hunk of the stuff and drops that on his head too. The audience groans. Not to worry folks. Van Boven is okay! Magic! (I\u2019m not sure how to interpret this act in addition to acknowledging it as a trick. Sealing off someone\u2019s senses? A seemingly sadomasochistic test performed as if it were a form of healing?). Part of the time, I\u2019m looking elsewhere, maybe at two of the women (Scaroni and Postalcioglu, I think), who sit on their heels, grasp hands, and twist until they kiss, then reverse directions and kiss again; they keep doing this slowly and carefully, as if it were a special exercise in which they\u2019ve been coached.<\/p>\n

UNTIL OUR HEARTS STOP<\/em> is a good title for this piece. It lasts for two intermissionless hours, and the extraordinary performers perform extraordinary acts and get little rest. Clothes are shed (even by drummer Lohr) and put back on or exchanged for fresh ones. Occasionally I discern an influence on Stuart by Pina Bausch. Vignettes appear, are developed, and disappear. Actions, however startling, may be repeated without comment or response.<\/p>\n

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Near the end of Meg Stuart’s UNTIL OUR HEARTS STOP<\/em>, Neil Callaghan (L) and Jared Gradinger spar. Far left: Leyla Postalcioglu.Photo: Maarten Vanden Abeele<\/p><\/div>\n

As in certain of Bauch\u2019s pieces, Stuart at one point breaks that fabled fourth wall between spectators and performers, but more intimately. The house lights come on, and a performer walks up the aisle offering water. In the row just behind me, Gradinger, chatting companionably, ties two amused members of the audience together. Van Boven tosses what he says are the keys to his Paris apartment in our direction; someone gleefully catches them. Callaghan entices a very young woman from the audience into the \u201cdoor\u201d that turns out to be a magician\u2019s box. He turns it, opens it: she has disappeared! He wheels the box to the sidelines. Nothing much is made of this, and a while later, his \u201caccomplice\u201d reappears in good shape from downstage right. No \u201ctada!\u201d though. The Skirball audience seems very happy with all this.<\/p>\n

Do these performers \u201cdance?\u201d You may well ask. If you mean, do they congregate and throw themselves into some steps they all know? Rarely. Does the moment in which two of them spin while holding each other by a hand in his\/her mouth count? The point is that these people are engaged in extremely physical acts a great deal of the time.<\/p>\n

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UNTIL OUR HEARTS STOP.<\/em> At back (L to R): Samuel Halscheidt, Stefan Rusconi, Marc Lohr. Foreground: Jared Gradinger. Photo: Maarten Vanden Abeele<\/p><\/div>\n

Most of them get a chance to rest when Van Boven descends the staircase at the back and, dressed in tails, stations himself near the piano and a handy microphone. There he gives a brilliant performance of a man ill at ease in whatever situation this is supposed to be. Soft, intermittent whistles from the back of the house worry him. Sometimes he barely whispers into the mic. He leans on the piano; one foot occasionally kicks backward as if of its own accord. Pianist Rusconi listens sympathetically. I wish I could tell you some of what Van Boven revealed to us; often, it got us laughing. He did mention Trump.<\/p>\n

I start to tire (long day, short night), and, for me, the piece begins to lag. Gradinger and Callaghan appear in silver-sequined attire and fight in slow motion without hitting each other. Postalcioglu comes onstage in heels and a silk dress, blindfolded and groping. After a while, Gradinger, having donned a robe, lights pots of incense that he\u2019s carrying on a tray. So much to take in, remember, try to connect, ponder. . . .<\/p>\n

The nearly last moments really evoke Bausch. Sobottke takes the mic and begins talking to us. She likes us. Wouldn\u2019t it be nice if someone would volunteer to take the whole company out to dinner now? No takers? Well, could anyone just convey her to her hotel? That could be fun. She talks faster and faster, escalating her offer into further improbability, while the piece winds down around her.<\/p>\n

By the end, everyone, including her, is onstage, wearing the sweatshirts and pants in which they began the evening. Perhaps the whole hypnotic show was a dream in which an array of performative acts slid around together. Maybe the dreamers woke up sometimes, maybe not. Anyway, we clap long and loud for what they\u2019ve shown us and for all that they\u2019ve made us contemplate. I think, after all, that I won\u2019t try to explode. Maybe tomorrow.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Meg Stuart\/Damaged Goods, working in both Brussels and Berlin, visits NYU Skirball The first time I try to access the website of Meg Stuart\/Damaged Goods (based in both Brussels and Berlin), the screen says only \u201ctry to explode;\u201d when I enter it again later, it tells me, \u201cyou have to embrace accident.\u201d I think I\u2019ll […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":5881,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_genesis_hide_title":false,"_genesis_hide_breadcrumbs":false,"_genesis_hide_singular_image":false,"_genesis_hide_footer_widgets":false,"_genesis_custom_body_class":"","_genesis_custom_post_class":"","_genesis_layout":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[2893,35,199],"tags":[3035,3039,3037,3036,3042,3040,244,3033,3038,3034,3041,3043],"class_list":{"0":"post-5876","1":"post","2":"type-post","3":"status-publish","4":"format-standard","5":"has-post-thumbnail","7":"category-company-from-abroad","8":"category-new-dance-from-abroad","9":"category-postmodern-views","10":"tag-claire-vivianne-sobottke","11":"tag-jared-gradinger","12":"tag-kristof-van-boven","13":"tag-leyla-postalcioglu","14":"tag-marc-lohr","15":"tag-maria-f-scaroni","16":"tag-meg-stuart","17":"tag-meg-stuart-damaged-goods","18":"tag-neil-callaghan","19":"tag-nyu-skirball","20":"tag-samuel-halscheidt","21":"tag-stefan-rusconi","22":"entry"},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/dancebeat\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5876","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/dancebeat\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/dancebeat\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/dancebeat\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/dancebeat\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=5876"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/dancebeat\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5876\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":5893,"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/dancebeat\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5876\/revisions\/5893"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/dancebeat\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/5881"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/dancebeat\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=5876"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/dancebeat\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=5876"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/dancebeat\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=5876"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}