“An elegant and transparent solo piece of dance”
Antigone, interrupted is somatic poetry, cathartic ritual, political embodiment.
Lately I’ve been coming back to Jonathan Burrows’s handbook and something I read really caught my eye: Simple things sometimes accumulate in virtuosistic ways.
That’s the beauty of simplicity: with few tools we treasure infinite assets. Antigone, interrupted is an elegant and transparent solo piece of dance where the Greek tragedy is revisited through contemporary storytelling.
It is great to see a collaboration that actually depicts Scotland’s reality: heterogeneous, European, international. Under the direction of Joan Clevillé (Catalan), the body of Solene Weinachter (French) orbits around the myth while her voice lies behind, to gently comment about it with the audience. Sortir-de-soi- the Anagnorisis of the character/performer of Antigone.
French philosophy comes to mind. Solene’s movement seems to deconstruct the levels of the body, unravelling the corps sans organes (the body without organs) of Deleuze, closely linked with the Théâtre de la Cruauté ( Theatre of Cruelty) of Artaud- how the State exercises violence against the bodies, and punishes them (Foucault). Modern Day Catalonia’s situation (just to name one) comes to mind. Young bodies and old bodies getting hit, bodies stretching, bodies longing from freedom. This longing, along with Antigone’s moral fight, is sketched in Solene’s movement when she plays with disruption, intermittence, reassembly, estrangement, awkwardness. The conversation with Creon using her feet while talking is a defiance of power (mockery of modern politician’s gesticulation?). In any case, the way Solene interprets Creon and the Chorus is a clear political parody.
Discovering the revolutionary body, Antigone, interrupted is also an analysis of desire. Desire blooms out of an absence. Freedom and desire are like Eros and Thanatos: they are interdependent. The dynamic and pulse of the choreography is anxious, violent, organic- the character is in Agon, in agony. The body recognises its own existence: it’s corrupted, it’s dirty, it sweats, it squirms, it struggles, it’s exposed, it’s naked, it’s covered, it falls, it rises.
The ritual side of Greek drama (post-modern performance always wants to come back to that moment) is honored on this show. The clever configuration of the audience, oval and on-stage, improves audience’s immersion, like a storytelling session or a foliada around the hearth. Sharing time, just breathing, we meet the Catharsis. Word and movement are completely melted. It’s not just related with time or silence- Solene’s dance outlines her words and her voice structures her movement. Literal body language. Solene Weinachter has, like a friend would say, a Daimon that is shown on her multifaceted skills. The dramaturgy is clearly made for her comedy and naturalness. Despite being a tragedy, we couldn’t stop laughing throughout the show. Through dance, power and old-fashioned narratives can be subverted. Maybe the birth of tragedy was that.
Reviewer: Helena Salguiero (Seen 20 Feb)