SCH.NEE – Nunzio Impellizzeri
Kulturmarkt, Zurich, October 29, 2022
Dance: Federica Aventaggiato, Lionel Ah-Sou, Claudio Costantino, Clémentine Dumas, Loar Labat Berrio, Katharina Ludwig
Impressions - Tanznachtisch by TanzLOBBY IG Tanz Zurich
Text: Mary Staub
(https://tanzlobby.ch/)
Dancegoers cluster, forming a loose line in the Kulturmarkt foyer as they await entry to Nunzio Impellizzeri’s 60-minute piece “Sch.nee”. Just six people at a time are allowed into the theater. The rest must slow down and wait. Once inside, a black curtain stops entrants short, causing them to pause once more. A dancer gently draws the fabric aside and shows the audience members across the stage and towards their seats. In crossing, they brush up against several dancers who are stretching, posing and warming up on the stage and in between audience seats. The audience watches further groups of six dancegoers enter the theater, cross the stage and find their seats. And another six. And six more. The audience observes as six dancers continue to make shapes, reach and loosen up throughout the theater. At times one of them invites a audience member to partner in a simple stretch or movement sequence. The separation between dancer and dancegoer is thus reduced, a bridge established. Meanwhile, the transition from outside world to performance world expands—an extended in-between—until all audience members are seated and one world flows into the other.
In “Sch.nee” Italian-born, Zurich-based Nunzio Impellizzeri explores the roles of sound and silence in our increasingly hyper-stimulated society. What is silence in this context? (How) does silence exist? (How) can we deal with silence? What role does silence play in a society where they who scream loudest are those who get farthest ahead? Once sound is gone, what fills that space?
As the lights come up, six dancers are sitting in a line, facing the audience from the stage, holding their gaze intently. As the dancers slowly stand and begin moving, their eye contact initially remains strong—the bridge between dancer and dancegoer thus reinforced. The dancers wear vibrant two-toned basics: shorts, t-shirts, hot pants, a unitard, a leotard—glowing red with brilliant turquoise; hot pink with radiant lime; bright orange and strong yellow. In these fiery two-tones, the dancers reach, pose and cut precise, moving shapes into space, sometimes alone, sometimes in pairs, sometimes in nuggets of uniformity, moving as a sextet through the room, first slowly then faster. They dip and turn in deep arabesques. In barrel turns they eat up space with captivating precision. They lunge, lunge further, and even further, until they can lunge no further and are drawn across the room. An electronic percussive soundscape supports the scenes. From a soft rumble it builds into a mildly pulsating, increasingly rhythmic, throbbing electronic sound that penetrates the dancers. Crescendoing. They beat, stomp, drill, jump. They pulse the beat of the music; the beat pulses them, driving their bodies, clashing their bodies against one another. Everything intensifies—sound, speed, rhythm, colors. Many in the audience pick up the beat, mirroring the dancers’ pulse, the music’s thrum, the rhythm of the bodies onstage.
And suddenly there is silence. And suddenly there is stillness.
And in this silence, we hear the bodies breathe.
And in this stillness, we see and feel more clearly how the bodies moved before.
And when the lights go out, and there is darkness, in this absence of light and sound, it becomes apparent how loudly those colors screamed, how intensely the music throbbed, how precisely, sharply, astutely those bodies carved shapes, sculptures and movement into space. In this silence the noise is visceral.
In “Sch.nee”, such extended silent blackouts form porous boundaries between individual sections, each one creating a distinct world that trickles into this stillness. In this calm in-between space, the previously created world is more deeply heard, seen and felt, magnified by the absence and inviting audiences to reflect.
One section of “Sch.nee” seems an underwater world. A creature slithers across the floor, like a sea slug with a brightly lit eye fixed atop its head, creating a surreal image and magical atmosphere. (A dancer wearing an old-school diving mask, lit up from within.) In this world, the dancers’ movements are smoothed, the sound is softened, and the colors are less loud, as though diluted by water. They wear mostly nude-colored netted costumes, undulate lightly and gently move through this world of soft contours. At times, they gape fishlike, as though breathing bubbles or producing soundless speech.
Throughout “Sch.nee”, the dancers pause briefly now and then, gazing fixedly into the audience, inviting the audience further into their world. They raise their fingers to delicately frame the corners of their nose and mouth. ‘Sshhhhh’. The title “Sch.nee” comprises the silencing sound of ‘sshhhh’ and the silent element of ‘snow’, or ‘Schnee’ in German, and the negation ‘no’, or ‘nee’ in German. (Perhaps ‘sshhhhhs.no’ in English would be equivalent.)
In a final section, the dancers appear in mostly white, the earlier colors whited out (by snow?). Their movement is weighted yet sinuous, as though moving through a snowscape. The soundscape is muted, meditative, mesmerizing. Snow absorbs sound. Each dancer suddenly holds a bulging white ball (a snowball?) in their mouth—an unnerving image of being gagged into silence. Yet, the dancers’ gaze remains soft, gentle, at peace with this sound of silence. Almost imperceptibly, the dancers merge into group formations, creating brief living sculptures, before melting away to mould into a new formation elsewhere. One dancer is lifted and carried and held and softly swayed and tumbled in crucifix pose. The sculptures develop and dissolve fluidly with a meditative gracefulness.
After “Sch.nee”, during Tanznachtisch (an audience talk-back led by members of TanzLOBBY), a small group of audience members shared their impressions from the piece as Nunzio Impellizzeri and manager Manfred Dachs initially listened and later answered questions. What resonated strongly with the audience were the contrasting qualities of sound, movement, costumes, lighting and overall worlds that were created in different sections. These contrasting worlds formed a unity, just as the opposites of sound and silence are part of a whole. Also, innumerable sculptural images remained vivid—white balls protruding from mouths; gaping fish-like mouths; underwater creatures; an eerie light; vibrant colors; the dancers’ gaze; the silencing ‘sssshhhhhh’. The audience received these moving images openly, as gifts brought to life by the dancers through “Sch.nee”.
Similarly, the initial transition from outside world to performance world, slowed down and with a connection to the dancers, was warmly received. Several audience members indicated being more involved with the individual dancers throughout the piece as a result, viscerally following one dancer or another at different times. At the same time, they found themselves yearning to follow the whole—the melting together of sound, light, colors, collective dancers into distinct world. The experiences, images and worlds brought to life so viscerally by these dancers throughout the 60 minutes of “Sch.nee” were experienced as gifts to be taken along and savored at home.
A gift that keeps giving in the silence of our homes.
SCH.NEE
Artistic direction, conception, choreography Nunzio Impellizzeri
Original music Tarek Schmidt
Dance Federica Aventaggiato, Lionel Ah-Sou, Claudio Costantino, Clémentine Dumas, Loar Labat Berrio, Katharina Ludwig
Light and costume design Nunzio Impellizzeri
Costumes Theama for Dance; Rehearsal direction Irene Andreetto; Outside Eye Silvia Scipilliti; Technical director Viktoras Zemeckas; Production management Manfred Dachs
No comments:
Post a Comment