A human journey: Dance Theatre Heidelberg in Reality and the Cosmos

Theater Heidelberg
July 6, 2023

In Reality and the Cosmos, artistic director of Dance Theatre Heidelberg, Iván Pérez, plays with ideas and visions of the cosmos. It’s a theme emphasised by Japanese visual artist Yoko Seyama’s silvery stage design that includes huge transparent balls and a silver photographer’s umbrella, which looks not unlike a telescope, against a glittering back wall that recalls stars twinkling in a clear night sky.

But while the work is full of references to the greater universe and how it’s sense of order developed from initial chaos, it is also very much rooted in the actuality of people as human beings. It is also a journey, not from place to place, but through the development of identity and who we are.

Over four sections and with wonderful onstage contributions from the musicians of the Heidelberg Philharmonic Orchestra, Pérez shows how we introduce ourselves to and establish the space we inhabit. Reality and the Cosmos shows us slowly coming together as we take possession of and feel more comfortable in that space. It shows us being creative and finding individuality. It shows us fully as one, dependent on and supporting each other.

Despite each section being different, with different music, there is a strong sense of continuity, helped by little recurring moments in the choreography. Sofie Durnez’s costumes go through a change too, again, different but with a clear and developing theme, shifting from sculpted black outfits to brighter, whiter, more everyday tops and pants.

The dancers and musicians introduce themselves by very slowly edging their way into the gloomy space between the girders of the lowered lighting grid. The slow tai-chi-like movement, the silence and the mist rolling in from upstage make it feel like time has been suspended.

When the musicians start to play the melancholic Prelude from Bach’s Cello Suite No. 5, connections start to appear as the dancers’ world, like the cosmos millions of years ago, starts to form from its individual parts. For a while, it feels somewhat spiritual but I will admit that my attention started to wane.

Not for long, though, because the scene, music and dance all wake up for the outstanding second section.

The ensemble now plays composer Terry Riley’s minimalist classic, In C, which consists of 53 short phrases that each musician may play as many times as they like (they may also omit phrases) before moving on to the next. The only ‘rule’ is that they must never go back to a previous one. Each performance is thus unique.

The night sky becomes day and shines with colours. Bodies increasingly attract. The dance feels hopeful. Thamiris Carvalho stands out, not only because she’s often at the centre of things but for her great fluidity and articulation in the upper body, and the way fast movement switches seamlessly into graceful slow suspensions. A unison duet with Marc Galvez, full of circles, of the whole body and of limbs orbiting the body’s core, grabs the attention wonderfully.

The dancers show great inner strength from the off but now the outward physicality ramps up. There may still be no physical contact, but connections start to appear elsewhere too as the work takes on a lovely flow, lightness and freedom. Innocence, even. Eyes meet. Faces light up. It becomes more playful. Time and again, different dancers lead the group as they run and swirl like matter in space, the others drawn to them and following.

The sounds of Beethoven’s famous Allegro from his Symphony No. 5 (arranged for seven brass players by Clément Schuppert and Nico Samitz) bring us back to earth. Reality strikes as the stage turns gold. A series of solos, some of which inhabit the stage alone, some sharing the space, show us bodies trying to deal with the forces that surround them. Time and again the movement suggests fighting, kicking, pushing away. Fighting gravity, perhaps.

The final section, to Estonian composer Lepo Sumera’s Piece from the Year 1981, sees those giant transparent globes and silver umbrella brought into play. A large spotlight focuses the attention. The piano music’s simple ideas, repeated but with small melodic and rhythmic changes, twinkles like the stars. Slightly longer scales and chords sound like a shower of shooting stars or a comet streaking across the sky.

Slowness returns. Dancers meet in new ways as, for the first time, there is touch. A duet and then a trio are very tactile. There’s not only togetherness and support but, one senses, a very human need for them. They have arrived. They have found their true, their real selves.

The final word is left to the lighting grid, which, after the cast has drifted away, rolls up and down like a never-ending wave. Or is it breathing? Life, the cosmos, goes on.