Media coverage
Time spent near the forest, the river, and the meadows made it easier to focus on ‘sustainability in artistic practice — including ecosystem thinking, eco-somatic approaches, and queer ecology.
We must realize that sustainability without a critique of capitalism, colonialism, racism, and patriarchy is in fact only a fragile new mask of the old order. Real change begins when we learn to say: ‘No.’ When we create differently — perhaps more slowly, with care, with the awareness that every small act of resistance matters, even if it is not immediately visible.
In Dancetopia, for example, there’s a lot that flows smoothly, and a lot that doesn’t. There is conflict — as in any human collaboration — but learning to engage in conflict differently has become a key focus for me.
The topics were inspired by the curators' interest in somatic approaches, how they change the body, and also by the desire to map out the environment and contexts of dance. The main guest experts were two internationally active choreographers and dancers with long-standing practice: Anne Juren and Maria Scaroni. Their three-hour sharing of practice already promised to be one of the highlights of the event and, in the context of the Czech professional dance scene, an unprecedented and enriching meeting. In the context of the morning's practice sharing, the evening interventions I saw sparked more questions for me, for which I am grateful.
The walk concludes with the folk singing of all the performers kneeling on the lawn. The emotions reverberate long after the performance, which is truly an experience. Minar and Michalak were able to offer a completely new and imaginative reality, experiences and ideas during the course of the hour. A bonus is that, thanks to the setting of the performance in a busy part of the park, even passers-by who might not otherwise have encountered contemporary art were now and then present for a moment. Lush Blast is in all ways a very successful event. It would certainly be interesting to see how this work works in the environments of different parks or cities, how its message and meanings change with the place.
For the works presented at Dancetopia, it was characteristic that although they drew on methods from various therapeutic systems, they then approached them in a non-therapeutic or extra-therapeutic way. It was not uncommon for such works to create discomfort. The ability to be influenced by others was often present at Dancetopia, and often, the events in relation to the interaction were even prioritized over visual perception.
The formerly inanimate stone unravels and its three parts - the three performers - gain their autonomy. "Do you remember how you learned to walk?" one of the performers asks, trying to get us to take off our shoes and experience the journey to the fullest. Unlike a few brave souls, I won't do so because I'm wearing barefoot shoes, but I would otherwise consider the move. I will note, however, that suddenly the audience becomes more attentive, not only to the performers' walk, but to their own.
It was a place for meeting. A place for extraordinary conversations. A place for study. And for crossing boundaries in all conceivable – and scarcely conceivable – forms. I should note that the curators of the project brilliantly succeeded in connecting the themes of Dancetopia with the practices of the invited experts, as well as with the interventions (performances) of selected artists. The dramaturgy of Dancetopia, as its individual components gradually followed one another, interwove, and then untangled, gradually transformed into a composition of its kind, into the (meta-)work of the curators. The created space was so functional for meetings, experiences, and discussions that it was collectively filled by everyone present, without the need to enforce authorities and hierarchies. Alice Minar and her team succeeded in bringing two very well-known and fascinating personalities from the international dance and choreography scene to Prague: Anne Juren and Marie F. Scaroni.
“So what’s driving people ‘s practices right now and how can we create possibility for people to share them, like open source your practice, basically. And I think that beyond utopia, like utopic vision, would be that everyone gets funded and there is enough money for everyone, we don’t need to worry about financial or programming issues. And dystopia would be that arts collapse and there is no more possibility to have any art at all. But I think we are looking at the practical possibility what are some real strategies we cand find sustainability as a working contemporary dance theatre artists in May 2024 in Prague and Berlin. … A body is political, dance is political, so we may not explicitly touch on geopolitics but the production of dance and the support of art in general and the making of art is societal concern and the way that that happens is something that is entangled in larger issues inherently. “
Symposium Dancetopia is (for us) a completely different way of thinking. It's not about exploring a particular topic and then discussing it within an artistic team, but about providing a service to the dance community. Actually, the roles are reversed here, and that’s what fascinates me the most – the shift from the role of choreographer to that of curator. It's about the fact that dance reaches certain states, let’s say, depending on the score or (artistic) practice being followed. This state, whether kinesthetic or physical, is transmitted through the fact that we are in the same space as the dance. That’s one of the readings. Then, of course, there is still the strong visual element, associations, the topics being discussed, etc. But the state of the body – that’s what fascinates me the most. The way of entering something unfamiliar or something that somehow 'captures the given theme.'
"I must admit, however, that I am a degree more sympathetic to the approach of Alica Minar and her colleagues, which is more rooted in street and folk theatre. We don't necessarily need to connect ourselves to the land (although I don't think anyone would stop us from doing so), but rather to the emotions and expression of the performers in the landscape. As an audience, we transform ourselves into a procession led by a "rat woman" with a loudspeaker instead of a whistle to a place where the performers blend into the landscape or embody figures with animal-like powers and unbridled strength as they tell of the predatory nature of the landscape. ... A number of humorous details emerge and awaken associations in the viewer, whether it's the stage design elements made from sugar or Alica's play on the chainsaw chain as a magnificent necklace. The play with the lights in the final scene at a rest stop above the river, as dusk arrived, is a poetic image that deserves to be preserved (and to be transformed again into some no-longer-performative social event)."
"Alice Minar's piece, Woods Won't Vaporize, also creates a kind of landscape - in which we enter an imaginary forest, where the dancers are both the inhabitants and the landscape itself. In her choreography, Alice Minar highlights her fascination with extensions of the human body, through costumes that in some way inhibit or prevent the movements of the performers and force the dancers to search for new physical expression, through playing with scenographic objects and through an atmosphere marked by lighting design that easily transports the viewer from a forest thicket to the frosty plains of Alaska. (We can agree that the forests aren't going to disappear, the question is: what about the people...)."
"At the moment I tend to think about topics in a more positive way. I feel an inner need to direct my attention to the softer, friendlier and warmer aspects of life, which awaken a sense of openness and acceptance in me. The contrast I created in the past by focusing on serious topics and bringing humor to them is now reversed. My focus is leaning more toward topics that create a sense of belonging or connection, but within them something serious is being addressed. ... Even after the production is done, one has to communicate to oneself and to the team what it is they have actually created and how to replicate it again. With solo work, I don't talk to myself, but I still have to communicate with the people that make up the team around me, so dialogue is still central. I can't actually create on my own, I need someone to be there to at least either watch or talk to me."
"I never wanted to limit myself to what I see in my immediate surroundings. I always wanted to get out there. I wanted to see art with my own eyes, to be present to what was happening on the international scene. Which is also what drove me towards post-dance-motivated ideas even before getting into the Post Dance book (Moderna Dansteatern, Stockholm). All put together, it has become a long-lasting passion that strongly influences the way I create. ... I guess I'm always looking for the source, the reason why I move or why someone should watch me move. When someone comes to my workshop to experience something with me, it's different. Necessity, in my opinion, is the quality with which a choreographer defines why anyone should care about what is happening on stage. It's about creating a relationship between the observer (witness) and the mover (mover). When I perform, it's not purely about my experience of the dance, but about the relationship between the stage and the audience."
"The dancers act as a tight-knit team, in sync with the choreographer and her vision, as well as other elements of the production such as music, set design and costumes. ... Having the opportunity to experience WOODS WON'T VAPORIZE in two different settings, I get the sense that Alica Minar's choreography is consciously loose in its construction, which changes according to the place where it is danced. While tree roots are very stable bases, where they grow is a combination of chance and necessity that only untamed nature understands. Alica Minar's production has similar qualities." WOODS WON’T VAPORIZE 25.06.2023 REVIEW
"Humanoid movements are broken by animal instincts and reactions. Their actions on the ground initially suggest the generation of energy from the soil, from the roots, which in turn has a double meaning, one concrete, since trees have roots, the other abstract, since we also use the word roots in a figurative sense, for phenomena and relationships that nourish us mentally, not with sap. Such imaginary sap circulates through the group of dancers." "I appreciate Vi Huyen Tran's musical landscape and Raquel Rosildete's evocative lighting design, which creates various atmospheric changes, a misty landscape, a desert or an aurora borealis."
"Objects have a rich world to offer. I feel that even if I have a certain necessity for my body to move, the objects have a legacy that makes them easier to enter. The objects and the body are like partners for me, there's not one more important than the other, they coexist together and through their meeting, we can express certain things, which are maybe spiritual, physical or emotional. … This strangeness and this weirdness are part of the extravagance and aesthetic that I'm working with and that I try to offer. This bizarreness of certain situations in life creates humor. I think that if you have a difficult topic, it's easier and more accessible to enter it playfully and weirdly. It gives you more freedom."
"As a whole, DEVOURER stands out for its impressive use of temporality. The choreography, sound and light form a solid structure in which surprising yet completely fluid changes of atmosphere occur. There is never a moment of exhaustion with the action on stage leading to boredom. On the contrary, DEVOURER holds the audience’s attention and entertains from start to finish."
"For me, it was a very strong critique of how far we are willing to go, and also how we are consumed by "having" instead of "being". The parallel with the black hole was perfect, and terrifying, because after a certain point there is no return. Being absorbed or overwhelmed is also a strong psychoanalytic theme relating to human relationships. But the performance was playful, not moralistic or heavy-handed." "We still tend to apply the easily exploitable demand for originality and novelty that contemporary dance tries to fulfill through an original movement vocabulary. Post-dance doesn't have that in its program at all. Last night's performance managed to show all the ideas bubbling up within post-dance very well."
"The choreography in this piece succeeds at connecting body, sound, visuals, text and objects and the playful potential between body and object sensitively approaches visual art, also bringing to mind elements of illustration and animation. The gravity-laden, self-absorbed, materialistic figure of the voracious eater and manipulator, Devourer, is nonetheless sympathetic. Emotions are expressed in a manic, exaggerated way, and the symbiosis of movement, sound and visual sensations allows the audience to relax." "In its imaginative improvisations, Devourer admits everything, makes no secret of anything, exaggerates his lust and greed, and transforms his selfish egocentrism into sensitivity, curiosity, and humor. While the audience may laugh with sadness in their hearts, the clown character offers the potential to release from accumulated emotional overload. Therefore, Devourer delivers a powerful aesthetic experience of release and joy."
"Her insistent Devourer is unencumbered by complex issues and allows herself to play, a refreshing experience among the existentially weighty projects of our time." "She devours ball after ball with the very realistic sounds of a feasting beast, moving through space with dance-like grace and flexibility. Even a covered face can have an expression, or rather the whole body carries it at that moment. And the body of the devourer enjoys its collector's passion. It is a seemingly simple-minded game, but thoughtfully developed and punctuated. The interaction with the audience seated closest to the open stage emerges quite naturally, a bit like playing with a semi-wild animal."
"Somewhat humorous and mysterious riddles together with ambient music by Etienne Haan, played from small speakers placed in various locations as well as from the spectators' mobile phones, gradually transported all audience members into a performative collision in which animated suits of amphibious creatures pointed out who, between water and earth, is the master of this world. And although one can rightly doubt the long-term sustainability of these kinds of formats, nothing can be argued against the usefulness and creative originality of this production."
"In the shade of a willow tree, however, the girls then enacted a scene in which they transformed themselves, with the help of a slight costume change, into a kind of amphibian society. The purifying function of water was evoked in a scene where an acrobat spun on a rope as if in a maelstrom, which carries away all evil. Now the part where the audience was "forced" to interact was over and they found safety in the quiet role of the spectator. Their space was no longer disturbed, only the public space... The whole event, however, maintained its tension and gradation. What seemed at first like randomness and a "let's see what it does to people" fantasy gradually turned out to be a prepared and controlled process, and the spectators were actually guided, though not transformed. The sound of water and the green gooeyness eventually stuck to the audience's souls thoroughly."
"Explosion is mainly a feast for the eyes, with all sorts of scenic paraphernalia that the four dancers move around like boxes, creating a space that looks like a futuristic doll's room and at the same time a carefully assembled collage and a work of art in itself. The performance is characterised by an optimistic pastel colour palette. ... The movement of the four dancers is vibrant, rhythmic and includes many jumps. With the help of props, the performers create situational humour; for example, they take turns jumping on fatboys, each time catapulting the other off. At times their movement again makes it seem as if the foursome is in trench warfare, fleeing from an unseen danger. Explosion has no narrative ambition, but it never ceases to fascinate aesthetically."
It is important to note that the choreographer works with energy very sensitively, slow movements alternate with accelerated ones. There is no visual-dance chaos that would exhaust the viewer. I would liken the dance production to a trip to Wonderland, where we find pleasure in the visual images. Explosion is a good example of how to playfully approach a subject that at first glance assumes mostly negative connotations.