International Dance Festival München: DANCE X AKADEMIE, Ewa Dziarnowska, Diego Tortelli & Miria Wurm

DANCE X AKADEMIE, Kunstbau, Lenbachhaus, Munich
This resting, patience by Ewa Dziarnowska, schwere reiter, Munich
TERRANOVA | hidden link by Diego Tortelli and Miria Wurm, HochX, Munich
May 25, 2025

Dance has long had an association with the visual arts with, in recent years, museums and galleries increasingly turning towards hosting performative experiences presented live in their spaces. Against this backdrop, the International DANCE Festival Munich and the Akademie der Bildenden Künste München (Academy of Fine Arts Munich) came together in partnership with students invited to develop performative works through an open call.

With the focus on works centred around human bodies and their interrelationships, the first presentations took place at the Kunstbau, part of the Lenbachhaus City Gallery (Städtische Galerie), which occupies former residence of artist Franz von Lenbach. The Kunstbau is not part of the main house but a large underground exhibition space on the mezzanine level above the adjacent Königsplatz U-bahn station designed by the Munich architect Uwe Kiessler. Opened in 1994, it is mostly used to present large special exhibitions.

Four short studies were offered under the DANCE X AKADEMIE banner, the audience moving around the Kunstbau as required and as they wished.

First up, Walking Title by Nicolas Maximilian Hoffmann presented what he called a ‘disruption of everyday life, namely someone walking the wrong way on an escalator, the impact heightened by it being viewed through a Kunstbau window. For the few minutes it prevailed, it was strangely appealing, due in part I suspect to watching the (often non-) reactions of those on the adjacent moving staircases.

Most interesting was Moving through Lipsi (together) by Josefine Simonsen, however. ‘Lipsi’ was a dance commissioned by the East German government in 1959 in an attempt to establish a particularly East German dance tradition and assist in forming a national identity through movement. It all rather ignored the fact that lasting community and identity is only formed over time.

Having said that, the repeated step pattern certainly had a rhythm that just made you want to join in. Indeed, you could see some of those watching trying it for themselves. While the steps may have been largely repeat, repeat, repeat, the increasingly complex shifting of position of the three dancers with numerous changes of facing, created much interest.

Recall a wave, a ripple, a vanishing sand castle by choreographer Noemí Calzavara and Claudio Murabito did just that. Mostly quietly contemplative, meditative even, it was beautifully danced.

The movement vocabulary, rising and falling, ebbing and flowing, full of shifts and repetitions, was reminiscent of a gentle sea swell. Breath and voice played an important part too, the latter sounding like a distant mermaid’s call. Having initially started in close contact when they parted, the pictures created were structure slowly washed away by the movement. Interestingly, even when widely separated, at different ends of the Kunstbau, one felt that quite a connection remained, especially as they called to each other like sea creatures, that call proving powerful enough to bring them back together once more.

Recall… was interrupted by Drinking from Someone’s Back by Lea Geerkens, which explored dependency, in particular the act of drinking. Each of the five performers was equipped with a bottle worn on their back, a long tube acting as a straw for one of the others. It may have raised questions about non-existent justice and relationships for Geerkens, but it was as unengaging as it sounds, evidenced by people very quickly drifting back to Recall a wave, a ripple, a vanishing sand castle.

A second presentation of six further studies took place later in the festival at the Haus der Kunst.

Later the same afternoon, and a tram ride away, Berlin-based dancer and choreographer Ewa Dziarnowska presented This resting, patience at schwere reiter, a performance and networking venue for dance, theatre, music and, as it says, everything in between.

Dziarnowska is known for projects that explore improvisation and embodied knowledge, and that challenge linearity. That is certainly all there in This resting, patience, a work that brings her and fellow performer Leah Marojević together in an intimate, sometimes very close, shared experience. At three hours with no interval, it requires endurance from the performers and audience, although it is made clear that people are free to come and go as they wish. Quite a few did not last the course.

The floor is covered with a blue carpet, reminiscent of a conference centre or such like space. The audience sit around the edges, Dziarnowska and Marojević occasionally shifting chairs to form rows, alleyways and half-circles. So close are those watching that physical contact between performer and observer can and does happen.

It opens with simultaneous but very much separated sweeping solos to a loop of Dionne Warwick singing ‘What the World Needs Now.’ The couple seem very much in harmony with one another. Already the work’s running themes of desire and yearning, passion and pleasure, are evident. Later, there is pain too.

As Krzysztof Bagiński’s soundscape transforms, so does the movement vocabulary. The dance becomes more twisted. Poses are beautiful but equally looked pained as if there is some sort of deep longing being felt for something out of reach. Or perhaps something past. More than once, you sense that the movement has its roots in memory, although nothing appears overtly referenced.

As the music changes the dance moves through more solos, unison moments, slow sections, others where arms thrust and chests are pumped. Is the clutching of breasts and genitals really necessary, though?

As it goes on and on, the ‘patience’ of the title is the operative word. Dziarnowska may never lose sight of her theme, and given the length of This resting, patience, that’s quite an achievement, but the eyes tire, the mind wanders and time moves ever more slowly.

The show ends with a return to Dionne Warwick, Dziarnowska and Marojević moving so easily you wonder if the three hours actually happened. “Not just for some, but for everyone,” goes the song. When it comes to This resting, patience, no. Just for some, not everyone, at least not for three hours, and not for me. But that’s dance, that’s difference. And wouldn’t art be a dull place if we all liked the same thing, or everything?

That evening, it was to HochX, and something of a rarity at the 2025 International Dance Festival München, a stage work presented in a regular theatre setting. TERRANOVA | hidden link by Diego Tortelli and Miria Wurm, responsible for direction and choreography, and concept and dramaturgy, respectively, was also one of the best.

The fifty-minute work is inspired by the organic interaction systems of mycelia, ‘true fungi.’ It gets a bit complex but the pair see them as a vital interface connecting all forms of life while also possessing the power to alter both our environment and the systems of our inner bodies. In the plant world, mycelia form underground networks, enabling plants to communicate across vast distances and support one another. But they can also invade the tissue of their host, manipulating it from within. I’m far from convinced much this is visible in the work, although that it is full of choreographic interplay and dynamic tension between dancers Hélias Tur-Dorvault and Fabio Calvisi, is undeniable.

Compiled from various sources, Federico Bigonzetti’s cracked and broken soundscape fills the theatre. In skin-coloured, skin-tight costumes with sparkles on their chests, the similarly splintered movement of Tur-Dorvault and Calvisi, both bald too, make them appear alien, although they later reminded me of two clay figures.

In choreography that shifts effortlessly between classical (rond de jambe frequently occurs) and contemporary, twisted and contorted moments sit happily alongside fluid dance. One floor-based section is quite reptilian. Whatever, the clarity of movement is outstanding.

A balletic rond de jambe, a pose in which one holds his hands wither side of the other’s head, and a shoulder stand with legs making a diamond shape are all notable for their repetition. Again and again, the pair split but are always drawn back to each other as if by some unseen force. When they do meet, the partnering is top notch too.

More agitated moments that come later, matched perfectly by the music, bring a tension to the stage. The score is not one you would want to listen to in isolation, but it always matches the dance perfectly. The choreography is very musical.

TERRANOVA | hidden link ends with a droning sound, mist descending, Tur-Dorvault and Calvisi standing, arms circling. Backlit, they appear mysterious, mystical even. A fine end to fine piece, and a very sensory experience.